Category Archives: children

Christmas Memories

When I saw the quote from Laura Ingalls Wilder about childhood memories, it got me thinking about Christmas during my childhood. Every child should be able to experience the magic of the season—Santa Claus bringing gifts, Christmas programs at church and school, baking Christmas cookies—traditions that become so ingrained that they carry them into adulthood to pass on to their own children.

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time...Laura Ingalls Wilder
The quote that inspired this blog

Some say the holidays have changed over the years, and I know to a certain degree that is true, but some things remain the same. Let’s start with the most essential part of decorating: the Christmas tree. In my childhood, we went to the Christmas tree farm. After tromping through snow and checking out several trees, we finally selected one that met my mother’s approval. My dad would cut it down, haul it back to the car, tie it to the roof, and we drove home.

The debate over which tree to select always involved a discussion wherein my mother didn’t think it was tall enough or full enough, and my dad claimed it was too large and wouldn’t fit. We wouldn’t know for a while because we usually purchased it early in the month. The tree went into a bucket of water in the garage to keep it from drying out until a week before Christmas. That is when it was carried into the house and placed in the stand. Dad usually had to cut more off the base for it to clear the ceiling. One year, my mother kept thinking all the trees were too skinny. The one we brought home was so big around it took a massive chunk out of the living room.

Author at Christmas, age one
The author and her mother at
Christmas, age one

My mother always insisted the tree sit in the living room for 24 hours to let the branches drop before we began decorating. The large, hot lights were strung on before we hung ornaments. Ornament placement was a procedure taught by my mother. Stand back from the tree and look for a spot needing an ornament. Once all the ornaments were on the tree, the garland and tinsel were applied. The trees of my childhood had a lot of sparkle, but the ornaments couldn’t be easily seen through all the add-ons.

Eventually, we went to an artificial tree, which allowed us to put it up earlier, and there wasn’t a rush to get it down after the holiday due to dry, dropping needles. That brought a switch to the small, cool bulbs, and we eliminated garland and tinsel. Now, our ornaments were easily seen, which, over time, I grew to prefer. Photos of trees with tinsel still make me smile with memories of days gone by.

Author as a toddler with her father on Christmas

When Hallmark began their yearly dated ornaments, my mother started a tradition of purchasing a dated ornament each year for my sister and me. When I married, I had a wonderful collection of ornaments for my tree. I continued the tradition with my own children and now my grandchildren. Although I sold most of my ornaments in an estate sale when I left my home to live and travel full time in a motorhome, I have been buying some ornaments, plus making photo ornaments of places I visit. Someday, when I stop traveling, I will once again have a Christmas tree and decorate it with my travel memories.

My mother did not enjoy baking, but every year, she made sugar cookies cut into shapes for my sister and me to decorate. As a child, I loved the red cinnamon candies, so I used them for the bell clappers, reindeer noses, and plenty when decorating Christmas trees. When my kids were little, we also decorated sugar cookies, and they were also heavy-handed with red cinnamon dots. To this day, I love sugar cookies, especially at Christmas time.

Author at Christmas, five years old
Author on Christmas, age five.
Notice the tinsel on the Christmas tree

While I don’t have a lot of other Christmas tradition memories, we always went “up north,” meaning to Traverse City, Michigan, to visit both sets of grandparents during the holidays. We stayed with my maternal grandparents and would go to the tree lot to purchase and decorate a tree for their house. One year, my dad laid the tree we bought between the snowmobiles on the trailer. As he was driving, he suddenly realized the tree was missing! We never found it as we returned to the tree lot; the guy running the lot gave us our next tree for free. I remember my dad saying he hoped whoever picked it up couldn’t afford one.

When it comes to childhood memories, who can forget the splendor of seeing the tree on Christmas morning with all the gifts below it and stockings full of goodies. The beauty of the gifts sparkling under the lights, the anticipation of what is inside each wrapped package that Santa brought. That is the magic of Christmas, the memories of childhood.

As an adult, it is the anticipation of seeing your child’s face when they experience the season’s magic and the pleasure of knowing you made it possible. That is because Santa lives in every one of us; we create the magic.

Let me here about some of your magical Christmas memories in the comment box below.

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Filed under celebration, children, Family, Holidays, kids, Life is a Melting Pot, memoir, winter

Summer Visit With Grandkids

My grandkids are 17, 11, and 8, and with me only seeing them once a year, I enjoy taking them on individual outings, plus a few family activities. Our stay in Michigan was longer this year, so I was on the go with various outings. Keep reading if you’re looking for things to do with kids in the Clare/Harrison, Michigan, area!

We started our visit by meeting my daughter, Caroline, husband, Rob, and the kids for dinner at Budd Lake Bar & Restaurant. After dinner, they came over to Hidden Hills Family Campground to visit. Kids’ interests are ever-changing, so I had lists of possible activities. I was surprised at some of the things they passed over and others they selected.

Corbin is 11 and spends most of his time playing video games. He is also harder to appease with activity selections. I wasn’t surprised when he picked Valley Lanes Family Entertainment Center for two of his outings. This complex contains bowling, putt-putt, an escape room, a pool, a laser maze challenge, bumper cars, an arcade, a pinball alley, and laser tag. They also have an on-site restaurant where we enjoyed lunch during both visits.

On our first trip there, we spent quite a bit of time in the arcade. Corbin was surprised I could “ride” a motorcycle so well, not realizing I had ridden the real thing before his birth. I enjoyed watching Corbin play a large selection of games that did not exist when I was hitting the arcades as a teen or when my kids were young. We enjoyed playing air hockey and skee ball, two throwbacks to my day. I spent a lot of time in arcades in the 1970s, so this was a fun outing.

Corbin also elected to go bowling, and we rolled three games on each trip. I hadn’t bowled in years and didn’t do well, but we had fun. When I was a teen, all scorekeeping was by pencil and paper. Now it is automated, including a variety of game selections and cartoons that cheer you on or laugh at your blunders. Quite a change!

On our second trip, Corbin decided to do the laser maze. They had a video screen outside the room, so I could watch his progress, which required navigating over and under laser beams to reach a specific spot in the back, hitting a button, and then navigating the maze again to the front and hitting the ending button. It displays your time and the number of lasers you broke. I chuckled when he said he would make a good burglar, as he only broke six lasers. I said I wouldn’t rely on that; it only takes one to set off alarms that call the cops.

Corbin’s other selected outing was to a water park. Since he had been to the one in Mt. Pleasant a few times, I took him to Zehnders Splash Village in Frankenmuth.  Water slides aren’t my thing, but I enjoyed watching Corbin play in the pools, relax in the hot tub, float the lazy river, shoot down a water slide, and other activities. Our tickets were for five hours in the park. Afterward, we enjoyed lunch in the hotel restaurant before leaving.

Corbin is interesting. He appears to be a self-absorbed video gamer, but when he talks, you can tell there is much more going on in his brain than people realize. He uses intellectual phrasing when presenting his opinion and absorbs a lot of information on a variety of subjects.

Austin is 17 and likes history and museums. We enjoyed three different locations on a wide range of topics. The first was to the Ziibiwing Center of Anishinabek Culture and Lifestyle. The museum has 15 areas in their permanent exhibit area about the Saginaw Chippewa Indians. It was interesting to learn about the Chippewa way of life and the oppressive things done to their culture over the centuries. Austin expressed disgust at the horrible ways Native American people were treated in the past.

Austin suggested the Michigan Heroes Museum in Frankenmuth. This very interesting and unique spot opened in 1987, focusing on Michigan’s military and space heroes. It covers ten wars dating back to the Civil War, ending with Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan and Operation Iraqi Freedom in Iraq. There are more than 900 Michigan veterans featured in exhibits.

The information is beautifully displayed in individual showcases about each person and includes some of their personal items. Three permanent galleries are dedicated to Michigan Astronauts and Space Pioneers, Service Cross Recipients, and the nation’s largest collection of Medals of Honor. When viewing a showcase that deals depicts how the Nazis destroyed the lives of innocent people, Austin commented on the horrible way the Nazis behaved. His comments made it apparent he had likely studied this subject in school.

Austin’s third outing was to the Longway Planetarium and Sloan Museum of Discovery. We were early for our planetarium show and mentioned it when I was purchasing a book in their gift shop. It was pouring rain outside, so the cashier gave us complimentary tickets to the show before ours. It was a different topic than the one we had purchased, and it was interesting. Sloan Museum is a hands-on learning experience. Austin is aging out of the museum but enjoyed the activities and suggested we go to the Real Bodies special exhibit. 

Presented by Hurley Medical Center, Real Bodies contains real human specimens preserved to show how the human body works. This is more than skeletons; it includes muscles, lungs, heart, and more in beautiful exhibits. I highly recommend this exhibit, but only cell phone photography is allowed.

In touring the museums with Austin, it was interesting how much information he has absorbed about history from school or the reading he enjoys doing on his own. I was also surprised at his interest in the military, as I had not been aware of that.

ALEXANDRIA (Alex) is 8 and a girly girl, talkative and opinionated tomboy. This is why she has such a wide range of activities. We went to Day Escape and Spa for mani-pedis, her first. The salon enjoyed Alex because she was inquisitive and knew what she wanted. They said many of the young girls that come in won’t respond to their questions. Alex was stepping forward, voicing her desires. We walked into the pedicure room, and her tech asked if she wanted to select from a shelf that had mermaid polish on it. Alex looked at the display and said, uh, no, and turned to a large display of available polish. She pointed to three different colors she wanted; she made a different selection for her fingernails.

I was surprised when Alexandria selected the Antique Toy and Firehouse Museum for one of her outings. I had put that on Corbin’s list of possibilities because he has always liked vehicles, but he passed on the option. The museum has more than 60 motorized firetrucks, the largest collection in the world, and includes the FDNY Super Pumper, considered the T-Rex of fire engines. They also have over 12,000 antique and collectible toys.

Alex wore a dress and heels, catching the eye of museum docent Dave by asking him a question. Dave toured us through the museum, letting her into a gated area where antique toys were on shelves, encouraged her to climb up into all the firetrucks, which were labeled “do not climb, and told her when she was done looking around, she was going to drive a real firetruck—which she did!  Alex drove a 38-foot firetruck with me in the passenger seat; Alex sat on Dave’s lap in the driver’s seat. We went around a rural block twice, with her turning the steering wheel and blowing the air horn when she saw people. I asked Dave how often they take kids out like that, and he said never; Alex is the only one. Definitely a once in a once-in-a-lifetime, memorable experience.

Alex selected Valley Lanes for one of her outings. Given the age difference between her and Corbin, the selection of games she made was different, and we had a lot of fun. Alex wanted to play miniature golf, which was an interesting 18 holes. I attempted to keep score, but I’m not sure if all the swings one of us took got counted.

I also took each of the kids for their own day of lunch and shopping for a few school outfits. Austin was in and out of the dressing room on his own, and other than showing me one outfit, he pretty much just told me whether they fit or not. It was hard shopping for Corbin as he has definite likes and dislikes, and the majority of clothes in his size were in his dislike category. Alexandria is very opinionated about what she likes. The only problem is her taste is in the older-looking girls’ section, but she is tiny and still wears little girl sizes for most things. She enjoyed trying on clothes, and it was like a modeling show as she posed for me to photograph each outfit.

In addition to my individual outings with the kids, we had a couple family outings. These were harder to fit in because Caroline works 6-7 days a week. We did manage to coordinate an outing with all three kids to Bronner’s Christmas Wonderland in Frankenmuth. Bronners is the world’s largest year-round Christmas store, covering 2.2 acres plus 27 acres of landscaped grounds. If you are ever in Frankenmuth, Michigan, this is a must-see.

We also went on the Bavarian Belle Riverboat cruise. This is a one-hour cruise down the Cass River on a stern-driven paddlewheel riverboat and includes narration about the history of Frankenmuth. After the cruise, we shopped our way back through River Plaza to the car.

Another family outing was to the Children’s Zoo in Saginaw. Opened in 1929, this small zoo covers only 10 acres but has some interesting displays and over 150 animals. It’s a perfect spot for those who want to visit a zoo that doesn’t require a full day and miles of walking. We finished up with a late lunch at Saginaw Old Town Junction, where the kids wanted to sit upstairs with an overlook of the floor below. The food was good, and I shouldn’t have been surprised when Austin ate a half-pound hamburger with fries and then finished his sister’s fries. I forgot how much teen boys can consume!

We enjoyed visiting the Clare Historical Museum complex, which includes a museum, historic log home, blacksmith shop, and historical school. It was amazing how small the homes were where people raised many children. Entire homes were smaller than the family room in many of today’s houses. Ringing the school bell was comical, as Alexandria is so lightweight that the cord pulled her up off the floor as it rang. This is an off-the-beaten-path museum that is interesting and well worth the trip.

The final get-together with the family was a buffet meal at Ponderosa Steak House in Clare, which ended way too soon. It was a fun summer, and I always look forward to spending time with the kids.

I don’t miss the Michigan winters—I winter in Yuma, Arizona—but I miss the days when I lived a mile from the kids and had them at my house frequently. They grow up quickly!

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Filed under Activities, children, Discoveries, education, events, Family, grandchildren, kids, Life is a Melting Pot, Michigan, play, summer, tourism, travel, vacation

What Makes a Reader?

A recent conversation with three children ages seven, eight, and 16 made me wonder what makes some people like reading when others don’t. I used to think it was parental influence, but that doesn’t hold true because kids from the same family can have different preferences.

I considered whether children who struggled in school with the language arts became non-readers and those who grasped those subjects easily became avid readers. That also isn’t true. I know people who were strong language arts students but are non-readers and people who struggled in school but enjoy reading.  

With no scientific studies to support or deny my theory, I decided it must be related to a person’s desire to escape reality—readers of fiction and fantasy or a thirst for knowledge—non-fiction and historical readers. Some memorial readers have compassion for learning about the struggles and accomplishments of others. 

In coming to this theory, I looked mainly at my reading habits and then considered those of others. I realized that what a person absorbs from reading impacts how they think, sometimes for a lifetime.

We read books to find out who we are. What other people, real or imaginary, do and thin and feel...is an essential guide to our understanding of what we ourselves are and may become.  Ursula K. LeGuin

The Pew Research Center interviewed people who had read a book in the prior 12-month period. Their interviews revealed that 26% enjoy learning, gaining knowledge, and discovering information. The pleasure of escaping reality and becoming immersed in another world was the reason 15% gave.

Other reasons, in lesser amounts, include relaxation, the variety of topics they can find, spiritual enrichment, the mental challenge of reading, and the physical properties of a book—the feel and smell. I can relate to the last one because I like the look and feel of a book in my hands rather than reading on a device.

The Pew Research findings are comparable to my theory. An article on ReadingWise, What Impact Can Reading Have on Personality? comports with my view that reading books can impact personality. People, especially children, gather life experiences through the books they select. They learn about other cultures, personalities, social classes, gender, etc. This learning can make them more empathetic toward people who are different from them.

Not only does reading impact the child, teen, or young adult’s personality and social skills, but it can also influence what they select as their career, activities they participate in as an adult, and how they view home life. Some books I read as a child, teen, and young adult influenced the genres I read now, what is important to me as an adult, some career choices, and how I view some controversial topics.

Nancy Drew Mysteries by Carolyn Keene were written for female readers between the third and sixth grades. As a child, I read this series, borrowing from the local library and devouring several a week. As an 18-year-old teen detective in the 1930s, Nancy’s ability to sleuth out the answer to different occurrences at a time when women didn’t hold careers in such “dangerous” situations was intriguing. Her independence and bravery probably inspired many females to surpass the gender-expected roles.

I enjoyed reading these books, trying to figure out the mystery along with Nancy, and it created in me a lifetime love of mysteries and crime stories. It also inspired my love of conducting research.

Making a tremendous impact on my viewpoint regarding abortion is My Darling, My Hamburger by Paul Zindel. Published in 1969, the young adult novel covers four teenage friends, romance, the decision to engage in sex, contraception, loneliness, and communication. When Liz becomes pregnant, her boyfriend speaks to his father and then gives her $300 to get what at that time was called a back-door abortion. Abortions were illegal, so the medical care was less than pristine, with procedures done on the sly. This often led to complications or death.

In the book, Liz starts bleeding profusely during the car ride home from her abortion. The entire scenario impacts not only the girl who endured this horrific illegal abortion but also destroyed the friendship group.

Reading this book as a young teen impacted my viewpoint on abortion for life. As an adult, I have always been pro-life but also pro-choice. I believe that a person, especially under circumstances such as sexual abuse of a child or an adult rape, deserves the right to decide whether to abort during the first trimester of the pregnancy.

The only thing that has changed in my mind over time is due to advancements in medical technology. I do not condone aborting a pregnancy when the child can sustain life outside the womb.

True Crime and/or True Detective magazines were in our home, belonging to my parents. As a child, I loved devouring these magazines full of true crime stories. While they were probably not the best reading material for someone so young, they influenced my preference for true crime and legal books.

Agatha Christie is a well-known mystery writer, and as I outgrew the Nancy Drew books, books by this author became a favorite selection. During this same time, I also enjoyed Alfred Hitchcock’s writingsI primarily read fiction during my early-mid teen years, and these were my primary focus.

Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad is a title I remember ordering from Scholastic and reading in elementary school. This non-fiction book influenced my future love of non-fiction and interest in reading about the oppression of enslaved people and blacks.

Black Like Me is a non-fiction/memoir written in 1961 by journalist John Howard Griffin. Griffin, a white man, had his skin temporarily darkened and traveled to the Deep South to learn what it was like to live under the terms of segregation. It was amazing how he was treated very differently when living as a black man vs. how he was treated after allowing his skin to lighten and was again regarded as white. It is a real eye-opener on how badly people judge others based on the color of their skin.

Sybil was published in 1973, and I read it around age 13 following its release. This is the true story of a female being treated for dissociative identity disorder. Sybil had 16 separate personalities, likely developed as a coping mechanism due to severe physical and sexual abuse by her parents. This book influenced my opposition to child abuse, and in high school, I did a term paper on abuse.

F. Lee Bailey wrote The Defense Never Rests in 1971, and I read it as a young teen shortly after publication. F. Lee Bailey was a well-known criminal defense attorney, representing clients such as Albert DeSalvo (the Boston Strangler) and Patty Hearst. In the book, he discusses many of the cases he defended. This book impacted my interest in the law and helping criminal defendants.  

It is not enough to simply teach children to read; we have to give them something worth reading. Something that will stretch their imaginations - that will help them make sense of their own lives and encourage them to reach out toward people whose lives are quite different from their own.  Katherine Paterson.

There are many others, but these immediately came to mind when I thought about books from my youth. Those I remember after over fifty years most likely influenced my outlook on life. What is their impact on my life?

I was a community opinion columnist for The Times Herald in Port Huron for several years, expressing my opinion on controversial issues. I am currently working on a book about CPS taking my granddaughters and adopting them out to strangers rather than my husband and me. I have given testimony before legislative committees regarding the problems with the Michigan sex offender registry, and I went back to school in my 50s and became a paralegal. I am now considering becoming a CASA (Court Appointed Special Advocate), which means advocating for children who are in foster care.

My reading is almost 100% memoir and non-fiction. I live and travel full-time in an RV and buy books from the areas I visit. Learning about the history of places I visit is enjoyable.

What do you read? Did what you read as a child and teen influence your life choices? Share your thoughts below.

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Filed under assumptions, career, children, decisions, Discoveries, education, exploration, impressions, Life is a Melting Pot

Looking Forward Means Looking Back

One of the downfalls of living and traveling full-time in an RV is only seeing my grandchildren once a year. While planning my 2023 travels and time in Michigan, I find my mind reminiscing back to the fun I had last summer with my grandchildren, Austin, Corbin, and Alexandria.

My 2022 visit was a fast-moving nine-day visit. I decided that because of the difference in their ages and interests and not having much time with them, it would be fun to do a couple of things together in the nine days I was there. I also wanted special one-on-one time so each child got their own day.

I took the three of them to a small, local railroad museum. The museum was interesting but didn’t hold their attention for long, so I suggested ice cream. I was surprised to learn Corbin doesn’t like ice cream, so he got a pop to drink instead. I thought it was cool when an Amish horse and buggy came down the street as we ate our ice cream at a picnic table.

When I commented on the horse and buggy, Corbin (age 12) informed me that the Amish do not believe in modern technology. To them seeing this is common, everyday stuff. I realized how much when I was on my way back to my campground and saw a horse and carriage tied up to a hitching post in front of Dollar General.

Alexandria (Alex)

Alexandria was the first to go solo, and her bubbly, social butterfly 7-year-old personality is always fun to watch. She is a girly girl, and that shines through when shopping for clothes. We went to the dressing room with six outfits to try on, and I told her we would buy two for school. That was a fantasy in my mind but turned out not reality.

After the try-on session, there was nothing Alex couldn’t wear, so I asked her which she wanted. She said she needed the grey flowered fleece pants and top because they are soft and warm. The yellow-flowered dress and leggings are necessary because it is bright and sunny. The third dress and leggings she wanted because it was cute. Oh, and by the way, Grandma, I need shoes. We were at Kohls and did go to the shoe department, but they didn’t have any in her size.

Here’s a comical side note—Alex recently informed her mom that she needed new shoes because when she went shopping with me, I wouldn’t buy her any! It has been seven months since I took her shopping. She never said anything to me about not getting them. Still, my daughter’s comment has me clued in about not making any mistakes this time because they will not be forgotten!

Alex selected McDonald’s for lunch, and she talked continuously through the entire meal. I had to tell her to stop talking and eat so we could get to the museum. The Mid-Michigan Children’s Museum is a fun, hands-on museum for kids 10 and under and has eleven galleries created around the school curriculum.

With everything from car driving, medical and dental areas, scientific activities, wall climbing, water activities, art center,  large tinker toy building, play kitchen area, play farm area, and more, she was on the go constantly. She took home artwork she made and a toy from the gift shop. We were there for about four hours and closed the place down.

Austin

Austin was 16, so his school shopping was in the young men’s department. I and several other mothers and grandmothers hung around the doorway of the men’s fitting room, checking on how the clothing looked on the teens trying on clothes for school. Heaven help the adult male who wants to try things on during school shopping season.

Austin got a couple of outfits for school, then selected McDonald’s for lunch. He is quieter, so conversation is at a minimum with him. After lunch, we went to the Castle Museum of Saginaw County History.

The museum has three levels of exhibits and displays, covering the Saginaw Sports Hall of Fame, lumbering, and automotive. There are some hands-on exhibits and many displays with informational cards to read. I’m sure there are things we missed or skimmed over when we were there. Their gift items are minimal, and Austin wasn’t interested in any of the items they had.

Corbin

Corbin, at age 12, loves astronomy, so I purchased tickets for a program at the Delta College Planetarium. We arrived a little early and explored the exhibits they had while waiting for the program to start. The program was interesting and designed for kids exploring space, but informative and interesting. The gift area had pencils and pencil toppers in an assortment of designs, so Corbin picked three sets for himself, then selected some for Austin and Alex.

After the program, we walked across the street to Wenonah Park, which displayed several flags. I was impressed that Corbin could list their origins; I didn’t know them. After spending a few minutes at the park, Corbin suggested we head to lunch—I guess he was hungry.

Corbin suggested Taco Bell, saying he thought I could use a break from McDonald’s. He was right, but I would have gladly gone if he suggested going there. As Corbin ate six cheese rollups, he got a huge thumbs up from me by saying, “People like us who aren’t fat can eat here.” I don’t meet the “not fat” classification, but it’s nice that Corbin views me that way.

After lunch, we went to Kohl’s, where we got him a couple of outfits for school. He was easy; he knew what he liked and wanted to wear.  The only dispute was when they didn’t have a character shirt in the right size, and he tried to convince me one that fit like a second skin was fine. I told him there was no way I was buying it in that size and that he would need to find something else.

Saying Goodbye

Paul and I met my cousin and her husband in Cadillac for lunch. Another day my daughter, Caroline, accompanied us on a trip to Traverse City, where we visited my grandparent’s farm, which is now Market 72, a public venue for events. We then met my other cousin and uncle for lunch.

The above is the farm of my paternal grandparents, Louise and Dominick King, built by my great-grandfather in 1918 on M-72 in Traverse City. You see the front and back of the house, the view of the barns from the back porch, and Caroline standing under weeping willow trees between the sideyard and one of the farming fields.

As my time came to an end, Paul and I went to dinner at Texas Roadhouse with my daughter, son-in-law, and three kids. The dinner was over too quickly. It was the last time I would see them for another year. I was moving the RV downstate to stay in Port Huron before heading south to Arizona. I took a few family photos of them and departed with sadness.

Austin, Rob, Caroline, Corbin, and Alexandria

Blake’s Family Day

After I left the Clare area and was in Port Huron, Caroline called and asked if I would like to attend Family Day at Blakes’s Big Red Apple in Macomb. My son-in-law has been working the Halloween weekends there for several years, so they always attend the employee family day. 

This was a fun outing, with a haunted hayride, a zombie paintball hayride (my son-in-law is a zombie), a 3-story haunted barn, a petting zoo, a pedal car track, and other activities. Of course, no trip to an apple orchard would be complete without purchasing apple cider, donuts, and caramel apples.

Alex leads the way, with Corbin and Austin following behind on the pedal vehicles. Corbin and Alex enjoy the bounce pads. Austin, Alexandria, and Corbin stand by the “How Tall This Fall?” display at Blake’s Big Red Apple.

And with that, my yearly visit with my grandchildren was officially over. Now I look forward to 2023 when I have booked a longer stay of six weeks in their area. I am looking forward to spending more time with them.

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Filed under children, Discoveries, events, Family, grandchildren, kids, Life is a Melting Pot, memoir, Michigan, play, summer, travel

Not Smart Enough

Imagine back to when you were in the 8th grade, about 14 years old. You must make a decision that impacts the balance of your time in school. You can take a vocational program, which you attend to grade 12, or a university prep program, which you attend to grade 13.

Once you make your decision, you cannot change to the other program. Now, consider being that 8th grade boy and before you make that decision your school principal informs you that you aren’t “smart enough” for college, so you better go vocational.

That is the way school in Owen Sound, Ontario, Canada was in the mid-late 1950s when Paul Cannon attended. He followed the advice of his principal. The question is, after hearing the principal’s assessment of his abilities, what did Paul do with his life?

The Teen Years

Paul was not afraid of water, and unbeknownst to his mother he and his friends would climb Inglis Falls in the summer. This was the largest of the four waterfalls in town and has a 59-foot cascade. I’ve seen in the fall with a slow flow of water. It is huge! 

Inglis Falls in Owens Sound, Ontario, Canada
Inglis Falls in Owens Sound, Ontario
Photo by Grace Grogan

When Paul was about 14-15 years old he became certified as both a swim instructor and a lifeguard. He worked as a lifeguard at the community pool and taught swimming to adults and children both there and at the YMCA.

Paul was interested in science and technology, and around age 16 he and three friends learned about an Army surplus store in Toronto selling non-working ham radios for parts. The store had ten radios, and they purchased them all. The intent was to build two or three operating ham radios from the parts, and they did!

Paul and his friends had fun communicating on the radios for about a year. None of the teens had taken the required test to become licensed ham radio operators so were broadcasting illegally. An officer tracked them down and removed the tubes, rendering the radios inoperable.  Years later as an adult Paul took the test and became a licensed ham operator.

Paul always had an interest in aviation and was a cadet in the Civil Air Patrol (CAP) in Canada growing up. The group’s intent was to introduce 12-19 year old students to flight. As a CAP cadet, Paul received education regarding citizenship, leadership, physical fitness and general aviation. In Canada today one out of every five pilots is an ex-air cadet and 67% of commercial airline pilots began as air cadets.

Bush Pilot

When Paul was 16-17 years old he got a summer job working for a bush pilot in a nearby town. That first summer Paul performed miscellaneous jobs and ran errands. When the summer ended the owner told Paul if he returned the following year the owner would teach Paul to fly.

Paul returned and became a bush pilot, flying a Beaver pontoon plane. Bush pilots fly in remote areas, and Paul’s job was to deliver supplies to cabins in the wilderness. You have probably seen this in movies where a plane lands on a body of water, docking near a cabin to leave supplies.

All pilots must learn how to read the weather, and because pontoon pilots land on water, they must also evaluate the water’s surface before touching down. Accommodations must be made for wind direction, the direction and speed of the current, and any obstacles that may affect their landing. Once on the water the pilot must follow all marine rules.

On one flight Paul was landing to leave supplies at a not-yet occupied cabin when the engine on his plane blew. Oil splattered the windshield and the plane stopped before he was near shore. Pontoon planes must carry a paddle for this type of situation. Paul shut down all systems on the plane, then climbed out to sit on one of the pontoons, straddling it like a horse. Paul then paddled his way to shore. If you think rowing a boat is difficult, try an airplane! 

There was no radio communication, so Paul unloaded the supplies into the cabin and hunkered down for the night. His boss had expected him back before dark, so when Paul didn’t return the owner went out the next morning, flying Paul’s route. When he spotted Paul’s plane, he touched down so see what was going on. Paul already had the cowling off the plane, but neither Paul nor his boss had the tools or knowledge to repair the engine.   

Beaver Pontoon Airplane
Beaver Pontoon Airplane
Photo by Grace Grogan

The owner said he would be back, and when he landed the second time he was accompanied by a mechanic and tools. The owner left Paul and the mechanic to work on the engine. The two spent another night at the cabin before repairs were complete. The plane Paul flew only had one seat, the pilot’s. Once the repairs were complete, the mechanic strapped himself onto the top of a cargo box in the plane and rode back with Paul.

Bush pilots are required to carry a bush pilot’s rifle because situations such as the one above or an unanticipated stop in the wilderness can put you in danger. If Paul was flying his route and saw severe weather ahead, he would land the plane and beach it. Using ropes he would tie the plane to trees to secure it during the storm. When performing these tasks, he always had to be on the lookout for bear.

Paul continued working as a bush pilot for a year after graduating high school, then left for Toronto to attend college.

Radio College           

Radio College of Toronto, Ontario trained students in electronic engineering technology and had a focus on tubes and digital electronics. Electronics technology was the wave of the future in the early 1960s.

While Paul was attending college, he lived in a boarding house with 17 other men. They were housed two to a room, with no locks on the room doors. The home was run by a single woman who ran a tight ship. She made all beds every day and washed the sheets once a week.

Board included breakfast and dinner Monday thru Friday. Paul quickly learned that when sharing a table with a large group of men there were no second helpings. You better get a sufficient amount the first time a dish went around the table. Lunch and weekends boarders were on their own for meals, but could use the kitchen and food she had as long as they cleaned up afterwards. This was a very different type of living than Paul had growing up as an only child.

One evening Paul and his roommate heard a knock on their door, which immediately flew open and in rushed the landlady. She didn’t say anything but hurried over and threw open the window, reached into her pocket to grab a pair of scissors and reached out. The next thing Paul heard was glass breaking on the sidewalk below. Apparently one of the borders owed the landlady money, and she suspected he might try to slip out. By cutting the string to the bundle of belongings the border was lowering from his third-story window, the landlady made it clear she knew what he was up to. No one knows if she collected the money owed her or just enjoyed a bit of revenge.

Paul rode the streetcar to and from college, and sometimes hitch hiked his way back to Owen Sound on weekends to visit his parents. If living in a boarding house and using public transportation bus wasn’t enough of a challenge, Paul was doing this on crutches. Paul played B-Team Hockey and did competition ski jumping. Unfortunately, he landed a jump wrong, breaking his ankle.

Paul quickly learned that in a time of need, crutches make a great weapon. One day Paul got off the streetcar and some guy, thinking he had one-up on Paul, knocked Paul’s books out of his hands. Paul may have been a bit disabled, but not unarmed. He swung one of his crutches around and clobbered the guy. A police officer saw the exchange, came over to pick up Paul’s books and make sure he was okay. When Paul left the scene his attacker was in the back of a police vehicle.

Using city transportation when dating was something Paul learned could be difficult. On one date Paul took a girl out, then escorted her home, staying to visit until about midnight. Big mistake!  When he got to the bus stop he had missed the last bus in that area, so he walked down to the next line, just in time to miss the last subway of the night. He ended up walking all night to get back to the boarding house. Thank goodness it happened on a Friday night, and he was able to sleep when he arrived there the next morning.

Work and Electronics

After graduating from Radio College, Paul took a position installing and repairing x-ray machines throughout Canada. This took him into every Canadian province, a position that nurtured his love of travel and photography. His goal was to emigrate into the United States, work his way west and eventually end up in Australia. He didn’t make it past Michigan.

Immigration into the United States took about a year. Paul needed to find a job that would hold the position for six months while he completed the immigration process. He was about 23 when he got his first job in Michigan doing the same thing as in Canada. Paul was living the bachelor’s life, driving a convertible and working in hospitals throughout the tri-state area of Michigan, Ohio, and Indiana, where there was plenty of female staff to date.

Many people do not realize that immigrants must register for the draft six months after they become permanent U.S. residents. Paul registered during the Vietnam era and knew how to fly the same type of plane being used in the war. Each year he was obligated to check in at the military office, and each time he met new criteria for a waiver so was never drafted.

Career Change

Paul was talking with an electrician and learned they made more money than Paul  was in the electronics field. Paul purchased code books and studied to become an electrician. Though not licensed, he got a job working for Morgan Electric. When a client requested a special electrical job, Paul volunteered for the assignment. The client was impressed with Paul’s work and offered him a job working for their company.

Paul made the job change. Always looking to advance, Paul later applied and got a job in skilled trades as an electrician at the Ford River Rouge plant. Unfortunately the plant did layoffs before Paul had 90 days in.

Needing work and the economy being bad, Paul took a job working on an ambulance. It was on-the-job training, they were not paramedics. The crew would perform basic first aid and transport patients to hospitals. This was during the 1967 Detroit riots and runs were often into dangerous areas. It wasn’t all bad though.

One run was to Governor Romney’s home. The governor’s wife had fallen and injured herself, requiring an ambulance transport. Paul also delivered two babies during his time on the ambulance. One laboring woman looked at him and said, “it’s my first” and he responded, “mine too.” 

When Paul’s father notified him Pittsburgh Glass Works was opening a plant in Owen Sound and needed skilled trades workers, Paul applied and was the first electrician hired. He moved back to Owen Sound and lived there for two years. The glass plant job gave him experience in trouble shooting factory machinery, which would pay off later.

When the economy improved Paul moved back to Michigan and took a position at Allied Chemical in Mount Clemens. An electrical inspector saw his work and volunteered to sponsor Paul for taking his journeyman’s test. You cannot take this test until you have verification of 10 years of experience working as an electrician and a sponsor. Paul passed the test and immediately began studying for his master’s license.

You must work as a journeyman for a minimum of two years before taking your master’s exam. When Paul reached the qualification period he took the test and became a master electrician. Paul then started his own electrical contracting business, Trojan Electric. This electrical contract work was in addition to his full-time employment. His business was lucrative enough to necessitate employing a work crew.

While working at Allied Chemical in Mt. Clemens, Paul saw an ad for skilled trades at the Ford Motor Company Paint Plant. Paul applied and went into Ford as a re-hire. He remained at Ford as an electrician in skilled trades for the balance of his working life, retiring out of the Ford Utica Trim plant.

Back to Flying

After Paul immigrated into the United States, he checked into getting his pilot’s license. The bush pilot Paul worked for never had him keep a pilot’s logbook, so there was no record of his time in the air. Paul had to start over. Lessons were easy because he knew how to fly, he just had to master landing on solid ground.

Pilots must learn navigation and weather patterns, plus cloud types and cloud levels for flight. Paul can look down the road when driving and recognize rain that is coming down but not reaching the ground. He can also see it ahead and predict the time the vehicle will drive into it. Navigational training allows him to know the direction he is driving based on the sun.

Paul purchased his own plane, a Cessna 177 RG (RG means retractable gear) and served as an adult member on the Civil Air Patrol (CAP). The Civil Air Patrol is an Auxiliary of the U.S. Air Force that was founded in 1941 to mobilize civilian aviation resources for the national defense.

Cessna 177 RC
Cessna 177 RG
Photo obtained off Internet

Paul underwent training in CAP to fly both counter drug operations and search and rescue. He enjoyed his time working on missions, which often ran one to two weeks at a time. He also volunteered his time working with CAP cadets, taking them up in his plane for a ride or assisting at special cadet outings. The CAP has the same officer ranks as the Air Force, and by the time Paul retired from service he had achieved the rank of Major.

Paul’s love of aeronautics led him to volunteer his time at the air show held each year in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. He worked in the sound center manning the sound control for the music and announcers during the air show. This required balancing the voice and music, plus timing the music for the air acrobatics of the plane.

Paul learned to be prepared for the unexpected. A woman was narrating her husband’s performance when his plane crashed. Her reaction was a blood-curdling scream into the microphone. Paul immediately cut the sound.

Paul enjoyed his time at the air show, meeting celebrities and working with pilots to time their music to their performance. It was a week of both work and fun, affording him full access to the air show grounds.

In His Free Time

When Paul was ready to move out of the city, he purchased five acres of property in St. Clair, Michigan and built a home. Paul was the contractor for the job. He ran all electrical wiring in the home and finished the interior. This included building the staircase leading to the second floor and installing all kitchen cabinets and countertops. He did this while working full-time at Ford Motor Company and running Trojan Electric.

In addition to volunteering his time with CAP, Paul participated in a computer club and remains a member of the Blue Water Shutterbugs Camera Club. Paul served as treasurer in both clubs. His photographs are sold on Alamy and Fine Art America, and for several years he sold them in fine art shows. Paul spent several years teaching photography, originally in a classroom setting, then one-on-one. He customized lessons to fit his student’s needs, including how to operate a camera, how to take better photographs, and how to process photos in Photoshop.

Paul Cannon now lives and travels throughout the United States and Canada in a 35-foot motorhome, towing a Jeep Rubicon. I am lucky to be living and traveling with him on his latest adventures. We enjoy visiting new places and navigating off-road trails. We produce videos of our adventures and share them on our YouTube Channel, Rolling Thru North America, Travel With US!

Not Smart Enough?

Can you imagine if Paul had only been “smart enough” for college what he might have done with his life? Maybe it is a good thing he did not attend a 4-year college. Paul may have not been ‘smart enough” in his principal’s eyes, but what he has accomplished in his 78 years of life has been diverse and interesting.

Writer’s Note:  This was originally written entirely from memory based on information I garnered from Paul over the past six years. After publication Paul read the above and advised me of some minor corrections needing to be made. Those changes have been made and the writing is now accurate.

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Hindsight is 2020

While the age-old saying about hindsight being 20/20 is often used, the roll-over of the new year gives it an entirely new meaning. Regardless of what you personally think of the past year, there are likely some choices you would have made differently. This is true for any year, but especially given the horrific one we had.

Are there thing I would have changed?  Not many. I would not have remained in Yuma throughout the summer; day after day of 115 degree heat is too much! The choices we made kept us healthy, except for a couple rounds of illness I had in the middle of the summer so it was not a bad choice either.

I regret not getting back to Michigan to see my kids and grandchildren. Michigan was a roller coaster ride of what the Governor was going to keep open or shut down from week to week, so we decided not to risk it. We are looking forward to our upcoming travel plans.

While death, disruption, loss of income, and depression are what many will likely recall when they think back on the past year, there are also some positives that should come to the forefront:

  • More time together with your spouse/partner/significant-other or any other name you call the person you reside with
  • More time to do gardening, crafts, hobbies
  • Homemade food, especially baked goods became a normal day of life for many
  • Kids enjoyed being home with their parents and having more family time
  • Truly learning what your kids are studying in school if they were doing remote learning
  • Less air pollution from traffic meant cleaner air to breathe
  • Many people learned how easy and convenient it is to work from home
  • Companies may now decide to lower their overhead by having more people work from home on a regular basis
  • Everyone has become more tech savvy thanks to Zoom, Jitsi Meet, and Google Meet
  • Those who reside too far away to attend club meetings were brought “into the loop” through online meetings
  • Vacation doesn’t mean you have to travel far

As for me, I’ve spent my time writing, processing photos and videos, and have taken a real liking to adult coloring books.

Whatever the things are that stay-at-home orders and Covid-19 brought to you, remember hindsight is 2020 and you can now envision a bright future in 2021.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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Memories of Grandma-Part 1

We all have memories from our childhood of what a grandma is. The type of grandmother I am is nothing like what my grandmothers were. Grandmas like them no longer exist.

My grandmothers were of the era where women stayed home, and when at home wore a full apron. They were excellent cooks and always made sure they fed everyone who visited.  When you walked in the door, they were always happy to see you.

That is where the similarities in my two grandmother’s end. They were each special in their own way, but so very different.

My Maternal Grandmother

Grace DeVries Hilts was born May 3, 1899 and grew up one of 10 children. Her parents and some of her siblings were born in the Netherlands. Grandma was born in Jamestown, Michigan. Her mother died shortly after childbirth and her father married the family housekeeper.

Grandma did not get along with her stepmother and married the first man who asked her. She was 18 years old on August 11, 1917 when she took her wedding vows to Ralph Hilts in Hershey Michigan.

I have fond memories of my grandfather, but his stature in life was far below what my grandmother’s had been. I’m sure the early years of their marriage were most likely difficult.

Grandpa was a hardworking man and together they built a life, raising two boys and later my mother. When my mother was born her brothers were already 19 and 23.  

My grandmother was 61 years old when I was born and she became my babysitter. Both my parents were employed full time in Traverse City, and because of the distance from their home in town to the farm, I essentially lived with my grandparents the first 2-3 years of my life.

My parents would drop me off at the farm on Sunday night, visit me on Wednesday evening, and pick me up on Friday night. Because of the time I spent at their home, I developed a very close bond with my grandparents, especially my grandmother.

Memories of things that were part of my life as a toddler have stayed with me for life.

Front Porch Sitting

My love of large front porches probably started with Grandma. I remember sitting on the large farm house porch as the sun was going down. We would watch children playing across the street, but we never talked to them, and they never came over.

The people across the street lived in a large barn and were referred to as “the cherry pickers.” I now realize they were Mexican migrant workers. They would arrive in Traverse City every summer to harvest the cherries.

We also sat on that porch during the day, and Grandma would give me the glass saltshaker off the kitchen table. She told me that if I could sneak up on a bird and get salt on its tail that it would not be able to fly.

Oh, how I tried to get salt on those tails, but I never accomplished that task. I wonder how much salt I put on Grandma’s front lawn. Thinking back Grandma must have found it quite entertaining to watch me try to tiptoe up on a bird, knowing perfectly well that the bird was far more keen then my young mind realized.

Doing Laundry

My grandmother had a ringer washer. Once the clothes had been washed and rinsed, each item had to be run through a ringer to squeeze the water out before being hung on the clothes line to dry.

My most vibrant memory of that machine is when my younger sister stuck her arm in the ringer, and it sucked her arm in and got stuck. Carol screamed and my mother slammed her hand down on a quick release, popping the ringer open. I’m not sure who was more scared, my sister who was stuck or me watching the entire scenario.

When the clothes were washed and rung out, they were carried out to hang on the wash line. I had my own little laundry basket and clothes pins.

A low wash line was strung for me at the end between two poles. That is where I had the task of hanging small items such as wash clothes. A very important task for a two year old.

Down on the Farm

It was a farm and chores had to be done. I remember going into the hen house with my grandmother and taking the eggs out from under the chickens.

I also remember she let me carry the egg basket back into the house – that was gutsy!  I guess when the eggs are available daily if I broke a few it was no big deal. 

We also fed the chickens. I’m not sure what Grandma gave them, but I remember it was in a pan and she would throw it over the top of what to me seemed like a super high fence. For years I wondered how she did that, but now realize it probably wasn’t as high my memory makes it out to be.

Grandma had a few rows of raspberry bushes, and I could go out and pick all the raspberries I wanted to eat. To this day I love fresh raspberries. I wonder if I got my love of other fresh fruit and vegetables from my time with my grandparents.

At night we would call the cows. I can still here her saying “Come Bessy, Come Bessy, Come Bessy Come.”  The next thing you would see is the cows walking over the hill and heading to the fence where we stood.

  • With Grandma Pre-Christmas 1961
  • Grandma with my Mother and cousins
  • Grandma and Grandpa
  • My maternal and paternal grandparents on my parent's wedding day
  • My grandma in 1982 - 83 years old
  • Grandma, I am standing and my sister is on the pony
  • My high school graduation in 1978 with my two grandmothers
  • Grandma in November 1964 - 65 years old
  • Grandma and her son/my uncle, Lee Hilts
  • With Grandma on my wedding day, September 12, 1981 - she was 82

Going to Get the Paper

While memories of my grandfather are not as strong, there was one daily activity I loved, and that was going to get the paper. He had to drive to a small store or gas station to pick it up.

This was before seat belts and car seats were used. I remember sitting in the center of the front seat, and as we drove he would let me push all the buttons on the radio. Then when we got to the store, I could look inside a chest freezer and pick out an ice cream or Popsicle. A simple routine that holds fond memories.

I also liked walking the garden with him when he would pick the tomato worms off the plants and drop them into a can. I don’t know what was in the can, but it couldn’t have been good because they died.

Another memory of my grandfather is being in his garage with him. He kept beer out there, tucked behind his toolboxes. He would pull one out and pop it open to drink it.

Thinking back that is the only place I ever saw him drink anything alcoholic. Beer was never kept in the house. My grandmother did not drink at all, so I don’t know if she opposed having it in the house or if he simply did that out of respect for her.

The Move From the Farm

As they aged my grandparents sold the farm. Even though we weren’t there often, they had kept a pony for my sister and I to ride when we visited. That would be no more.

They moved into two-story home on a smaller piece of property when I was a child. It was next to a cherry orchard. It was from there that I first saw the automatic cherry pickers.

I still remember the disappointment I felt seeing that machine violently shake the tree so the cherry’s would fall. I felt bad that the Mexican cherry pickers would no longer be climbing the trees with their buckets to harvest the crops.

While living in that house my grandfather passed away. I was in 9th grade when he died, and Grandma would move again. She moved to a house next to my aunt and uncle’s home.

Grandma didn’t drive, so I’m sure this made things more convenient for her, plus it was a ranch style, so easier to navigate. It did have one wonderful feature, a mini orchard behind it filled with an assortment of sour cherry, sweet cherry, plum and peach trees. A fruit lovers paradise!

Habits I learned and Things I Didn’t Learn

My mother always said I have traits of my grandmother that I probably acquired while living with her. One of those was the fact that I don’t easily share my feelings. I keep things to myself.  I think over the years I have become more open, but I still walk a cautious line in that area.

I used to do a lot of embroidery, and I now have my grandmother’s embroidery basket. I remember my mother saying I make my stitches just like Grandma, tiny and precise.

One thing I didn’t learn and wish I had is how to tat. Grandma put tatting on the edge of everything she embroidered. Dresser scarves and pillow cases all were edged with tatting.

When it came to cooking, Grandma made the best beef and noodles. I never learned how. I remember my mother making it one time and I told her they weren’t as good as Grandma’s. She never made them again. I wish I knew how Grandma made them.

If I Could Go Back

If I could go back and spend just one more day with Grandma, what a wonderful day it would be. I would get up and not get dressed, just so I could hear her say one more time “get your duds on.” 

I would enjoy watching her cook breakfast. I don’t know how she could prepare a full serving plate of over-easy eggs, never breaking a yoke going into the pan or onto the plate.

I would sit in the kitchen and observe her laying an antique curling iron over the stove burner to warm it up before curling her hair so we could go to town. Of course she would change into her “going to town dress” because a house dress wasn’t proper. Once we got home she would immediately change out of that dress and back into her house dress, placing a full apron over it.

I would enjoy the orange slice candies out of the candy dish on the coffee table. They are still one of my favorite candies. I would also grab a couple Windmill Cookies from the depression glass cookie jar that sat on the end of the kitchen table.

My foot would quietly work the peddle on her sewing machine up and down, amazed that she used to sew clothing on that old treadle machine. My mother said when I was little Grandma could look at me, take a piece of fabric and freehand cut a dress, sew it, and it would fit me perfectly.

I would sit and watch the goldfish inside the glass fishbowl that sits in a wobbly, antique metal fishbowl stand next to her chair. She enjoyed sitting and watching them.

At the end of the day Grandma and I would sit on the front porch as the sun goes down. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning, red sky at night, sailor’s delight.

I would watch Grandma standing in the drive waving as I backed down the drive, one last time.

Grandma died on February 11, 1988, one month after my son was born. I have always regretted not making the drive north so she could see her great-grandson prior to her death. Grandma’s health had been deteriorating following a stroke. My mother said she thought Grandma held just on long enough to know that I and my son, Patrick, were fine.

I hope you enjoyed reading about memories of my maternal grandmother. Watch for my upcoming Memories of Grandma–Part 2, which is about the memories I have of my paternal Grandma, Louse Elizabeth Lautner King.

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MERRY CHRISTMAS

Well, we arrived seven days late, had to cancel a planned 5-day stop between South Padre Island and here, but have finally arrived in sunny Tucson, Arizona.  In a way it doesn’t feel like Christmas.  There is no snow on the ground, the average temperature is around 65 during the day and upper 30’s at night.  I have a meager supply of Christmas decorations which I was finally able to put out upon our arrival, but it just doesn’t have the Christmas feel I am used to.

One thing we will remember in the future, when traveling and doing a quick overnight in a Walmart parking lot, the lot is very busy and very full on the last Saturday before Christmas!  The one we stayed at in El Paso, Texas had a Texas Roadhouse restaurant within walking distance, so we did have a good, but very noisy dinner.  Shop-till-you-drop shoppers get hungry!

The positive side is the KOA campground we are in has citrus trees on every site and while staying here you are welcome to walk around and pick whatever fruit you can use.  Yesterday I went out and picked a couple grapefruit, four oranges and about five lemons (I’m going to make old-fashioned lemonade).  Boy is fruit fresh off the tree way better than store-bought!

Cactus with Christmas Hats

Photo found on internet

As Murphy’s Law would have it, we arrived Sunday in a city that has 360 days of sun per year.  Today, Christmas Eve, it rained a good portion of the day and is forecast to rain again this evening, and then again tomorrow.  Thursday should be partly sunny, and then rain is predicted for Friday and Saturday.  Go figure I would get four of the five days of yearly rain almost immediately upon arrival.  On a positive note, the remaining 98 days I will be in the this state should be bright and sunny.

My Christmas Eve has been quiet, as will Christmas Day tomorrow.  I will miss having my kids and grandchildren coming to the house to open gifts.  The noise, chaos, and mess as gifts are opened and paper strewn around are what makes the holiday.   The positive is that I do not have to deal with snow, ice, or bitter cold.  Everything has a negative and a positive.

Whether you are experiencing Christmas in a winter wonderland or a tropical paradise, I wish you and your loved ones a very Merry Christmas.

 

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Christmas is Magic

A few weeks ago I decorated my Christmas tree with an assortment of carefully selected ornaments, those that had special significance or appeal.  This will be my last “real” Christmas tree, at least for a few years.  Most of my ornaments will be given away or sold.  My snowman collection, which I have been accumulating for years, and many other things that say “holiday tradition” to me will be forsaken for a new adventure.

I have made the decision to downsize out of my house and into a motor home.  When one goes from a house to an RV, most of your possessions must go, and that includes the majority of my holiday decorations, including my Christmas tree.  Some will be given to my adult children, others will go into an estate sale for others to enjoy.  popcorn and paper garland

When you decorate your tree each year, do you have ornaments that hold special meaning?  Are there traditions you have carried on from your childhood?  Long before Elf-On-A-Shelf became a fad, my mother always had an elf on her Christmas tree for good luck.  When I got married I had to have an elf, and when my daughter found out I was downsizing she said “are you taking your elf?”  This is the way that family traditions are handed down.

American Christmas traditions began around 1830 when an image from England of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert celebrating the holiday around a table-top tree was re-printed in American publications.   The photo was widely published and by 1900 one in five  Americans had a Christmas tree.  The first trees were decorated with things such as nuts, popcorn strings, homemade trinkets, oranges and lemons.  Newspapers and magazines encouraged Americans to purchase more elaborate decorations, and by 1870 ornaments were being imported from Germany.

German immigrants brought to America the tradition of putting lights, sweets, and toys on the branches of the tree.    My tree has some glass-blown ornaments, Hallmark dated ornaments, birds, elves, glass balls, and ornaments from my youth.   There are ornaments that were purchased as souvenirs, such as the Hot Air Balloon Fiesta, Washington DC, and the Calgary Stampede.  There are memorial ornaments for my father, nephew, and husband.  One year I was given an ornament that depicts two favorite things of mine…books and coffee.  There is a special, sentimental feeling each year as these are brought back out and placed on the tree.

Minolta DSCAlong with tree decorating traditions, most of us grew up with the magic of Santa Clause.  Saint Nicholas was a Christian holy person believed to have lived in the third century, who became known as a protector of children.  The bearded, jolly Santa dressed in red that first appeared in Clement Moore’s A Visit from Saint Nicholas in 1820.   Thomas Nast was an artist who’s first major depiction of Santa Claus in Harper’s Weekly in 1886 created the image we envision today.  Nast contributed 33 Christmas drawings to Harper’s Weekly between 1863 to 1886, and Santa is seen or referenced in all but one.   It is Nast who was instrumental in standardizing a national image of a jolly, kind and portly Santa dressed in a red, fur-trimmed suit delivering toys from his North Pole workshop.

Santa lives on today because he exemplifies dreams, hope, wishes and beliefs.  In a world filled with stress, violence, poverty, and hunger, Christmas brings out the good in everyone.  The thought that if you just believe, good things will happen.  Christmas is magic, and if you don’t believe that, watch a child’s eyes on Christmas morning.

 

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Don’t Overlook Life’s Small Joys

Quotes have a way of making you think, of getting you to take a step back and analyze things.  If you have been a reader of my blog for a while then you know that quotes frequently pop up as a topic for my blogs.  When life is especially stressful applying the thoughts in this simple quote I found can bring peace to an overly processed world.

Watch a sunrise once a year…..there is something absolutely beautiful about getting out of bed and watching the sun peak over the horizon in the morning.  This is especially true if you are near a body of water.  It is a refreshingly positive way to start the day.  Sunsets are beautiful as well, but if it has been a while since you’ve watched the sun rise, set the alarm and partake in the experience.   Refreshing!

Put marshmallows in your hot chocolate……this seems so ordinary.  So “take off the chill” normal happening in fall or winter.  Then it occurred to me that as I got older I would make a cup of instant hot chocolate, but somewhere along the line I stopped dropping in the marshmallows.  Forgo the whipped cream that has become commonplace, or worse the “naked” chocolate without any fattening additives, and go back to your youth.  Enjoy a few marshmallows melting in your hot chocolate.  Yummy!

Lie on your back and look at the stars…..remember being a child, laying on the ground and looking up at the stars, amazed at the pure beauty and wonder of them.  What a peaceful way to enjoy the nighttime sky.  So many of us live in the city hustle and bustle where there are always lights and we forget to look up at the beauty of the night sky.   As you are walking into your house after dark take the time to look up and enjoy glimmer of the moon and stars above you.  Heavenly!

Never buy a coffee table you can’t put your feet on…..being that I haven’t owned a coffee table in about thirty-seven years, I can’t say too much in this area.  I think this message has more to do with being comfortable your own home.   My parents always had a coffee table which held things like coasters, display pieces such as an antique photo viewer, or large coffee table books, but never a person’s feet!   As I prepare to downsize and move I am considering re-purposing my mother’s Lane cedar chest (the old fashioned hope chest) into a coffee table.  It would be convenient for storing afghans in the living room and could serve dual purpose as a coffee table.  Of course having owned reclining couches for several years, the idea of a coffee table may be defunct if I continue with that type of furniture.  At the same time the idea of a traditional couch with a table in front has its appeal.  Comfy!

Never pass up a chance to jump on a trampoline…..to me this says experience life, be adventurous.  While some of us may be able to climb onto and jump on a trampoline, others may not have the physical ability to do so.  Don’t let small limitations hold you back from what you can do.   Go forth and try new things, take risks.  Live life to the fullest and never pass up the opportunity to try something new.  Exhilarating!

Don’t overlook life’s small joys while searching for big ones…..this is something way too many of us do, especially when young and career oriented, which often overlaps with the time-filled days of raising children.  We get our mind set on not just keeping up with, but also exceeding “the Jones’s,” and in doing so miss out on a lot of life’s simple pleasures.   If you find yourself caught up in the rush-rush lifestyle a good way to rejuvenate is to take a walk with a child, or better yet spend an afternoon with one.  They will take you on an adventure of all the things you have forgotten to enjoy.  The pleasure of blowing bubbles, watching a butterfly, gathering stones from a beach, stomping in mud puddles, gathering fall leaves, the smell of flowers, the rustle of the wind in the trees, the joy of watching birds, or even playing with your shadow.  Relaxing!

I hope each of you reading this will take the time to do not only these things, but others that will bring you peace of mind and relaxation from the every day stresses of life.

Watch a Sunrise Once a Year

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Dirt on My Shirt

Anyone who has raised a boy can relate to the Dirt on My Shirt poem that I stumbled across recently.  When I saw it memories of my son and my grandsons came to mind.  It is like they are immune to the idea of cleanliness.  If it looks like fun, dig right in.

Dirt on My ShirtI have very rarely seen my grandson, Corbin, with a clean face.  I think it is magnetic and attracts dirt, all he has to do is walk across a room and it zeros in on him.  Thinking back to when my son was growing up, there were all kinds of messes and things going on that bring to life the saying “boys will be boys.”

Here are some of my “boys will be boys” memories….

  • Walking into my backyard and Patrick and his friend had dug a huge hole in the ground.  Why?  Just for fun!
  • Patrick telling me about taking a boat down the canal using a battery-operated fan for a motor.  I thought he was kidding until I was at a meeting and a mother who lived on the canal commented on these boys running a boat down the canal using a fan for a motor…she thought it was pretty ingenious!
  • My grandson, Corbin, telling me he didn’t have to wash his hands as he flipped them back and forth saying “see they are clean” and “I’ll wash them on Thursday.”
  • Socks that are filthy because why bother putting on shoes, you’re only going into the yard.
  • Cleaning out pockets filled with stones, grass, dirt, and miscellaneous other items.
  • At 2-1/2 to 3 years Patrick had a 2-foot ramp he would use to jump his 2-wheeler.  My mother-in-law, who had raised three boys, didn’t give it a thought.  My parents, who had raised two girls almost had heart failure when they saw him do the jump at 2-1/2 years.
  • My grandson, Austin at 2-3 years old running onto a water park and standing in the running sprinklers fully clothed in shoes, turtle neck top and overalls.1933939_1214548853295_8053577_n
  • Creek findings in my garage:  craw-fish, baby muskrat, fish, snails, snakes, turtles (Patrick, now 30-years old, has a large turtle in a tank in my garage right now) all brought home and kept in fish tanks in my garage.
  • Having all the screws in my dining room chairs removed by Patrick’s bare hands.
  • My grandson, Austin sliding ice cubes from his Koolaid around on the table; when asked what he was doing he said “washing the table.”
  • Hearing a crash and discovering my 2 year old son on top of my refrigerator.
  • Greasy/dirty clothes from fixing things…snow blowers, lawn mowers, anything that doesn’t work.

The list could go on forever, and thinking back on those memories makes me smile.   After all, I can still look at Patrick, now 30 years old, and he will have dirt on his shirt, dirt on his hands, and dirt on his face due to something he has been working on.  Oh, and he still leaves dirt on the refrigerator handle when grabbing something to drink.

Share with me your
“Boys Will Be Boys” memories

 

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Filed under Activities, backyard, children, Cleaning, Discoveries, Family, grandchildren, home, kids, Life is a Melting Pot, memoir, nature, reality, spring, summer

Babies Don’t Keep

I recently stumbled across a poem I have loved since the first time I saw it…Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow, for babies grow old we’ve learned to our sorrow, so quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep, I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

There is nothing quite so relaxing as a baby snuggled up against your shoulder, their head tucked against your neck, as you rock them to sleep.   I rocked my kids to sleep all the time, to the extent that training them to go to bed without being rocked to sleep first was difficult.  However I would not forgo all those hours I spent in a rocking chair with them cuddled against me for anything.

In today’s rush-rush society rocking babies to sleep is something that has fallen out of practice.  You hear of people putting babies into a crib with a bottle to fall asleep.  Mothers who nurse feed the baby and then immediately lay them down.  There isn’t that extended cuddle time when you are holding and rocking the baby without a reason other than just to cuddle.  It is sad to think there are two generations missing out on this special time….the generation of parents and the generation of babies.  Cleaning and Scrubbing 2

Modern lifestyles are lived in the fast lane.  We have babies, then rush them into preschool as early as age three.  By the time they reach kindergarten children have been attending day care or preschool for 2-3 years, maybe more.  Many children are enrolled at the elementary age into sports or other activities.  By the time the child reaches high school they have a schedule of school, homework, sports, and other extracurricular activities, then comes graduation and college.

Time goes fast.  If you are a mother of young children, cherish those moments.  Take the time to sit in a rocking chair with your baby on your shoulder or your toddler on your lap.  Read them a story, let them fall asleep, enjoy that quite cuddle time, then carry them to bed.   Before long they won’t want to sit and cuddle and you will miss those times.  Enjoy them.  Cherish them.  Because as every mother soon learns, babies don’t keep.

 

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First Day of Freedom

Imagine six years of life where your movements are controlled, where you have no privacy, where you can make phone calls out but no one can call you, your mail is read prior to you receiving it, where you can never go visit, but must wait for people to visit you.   That is the life my son led from the time he was 24 years old until he was 30.

When he received notice in December that he had received parole he began counting down the days.  March 20th seemed like it was in the distant future for him.  For me it went fast.  I was trying to get things done prior to his release, and of course I made the six hour drive to pick him up.

Patrick was released from Newberry Correctional Facility in Michigan’s upper peninsula at 8:00 am March 20, 2018.  Although he is on a tether for the first six months of his two year parole, and he must abide by curfews that in the beginning are tight, it is considerably better than the spot he was at.  So how did Patrick spend his first day of freedom?

I picked him up at the correctional facility, we loaded his belongings into the car and than took our last two prison photos, a “selfie” of the two of us, and then one of him in front of the facility.  Every time I (and my now deceased husband) visited we paid to have photos taken of us together and one of Patrick alone, so this was our last prison photo shoot.

Our first stop was a gas station/McDonald’s combination where he got a McGriddle sandwich — also one of my favorites.  When he asked if he could have bacon added to the sandwich the girl responded “you can have whatever you want” and Patrick responded “those are words I’m not used to hearing.”

I had purchased him a cell phone, but phones have advanced considerably in the past six years.  He was on the phone talking as we were crossing the Mackinac Bridge and I heard him say that the water looked really cool with the ice on it and “if I wasn’t on the phone talking to you I could take a picture.”  He got instructions on how to stay on the phone and take a photo at the same time.

Two years ago my husband/Patrick’s father passed away, and I had obtained permission from the parole agent to make a few stops, Great Lakes National Cemetery in Holly being one, where Patrick saw his father’s grave-site for the first time.

We then headed to Fort Gratiot, he did not have to check in with the parole agent until the next morning, and we had permission to go shopping at Kohls to get him some clothes and then out to dinner.  We ended up spending about three hours in Kohls.

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Patrick tries on a hat at Kohs

Patrick helped me pick out short outfits for my grandchildren’s Easter baskets, then we shopped for clothing for him.  He had changed sizes while incarcerated and had to try on a few things.  A pair of tennis shoes, four pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, one shirt (couldn’t find many he liked), some boxers, and socks and we felt he had a nice start.  I had already purchased him a nice pair of fleece pants, hoodie, polo, and a v-neck t-shirt prior to picking him up.  During our shopping Patrick had to exit the building and stand in an open area of the parking lot so the satellite could take a picture of him/his location.  He was told that happens frequently in large department stores or malls if in for a while.

Next stop was Red Lobster.  Lobster Fest is going on, and we had the same meal — two different kinds of lobster and green beans with mushrooms, and of course salad and biscuits.  The place was quiet, the service was good, the food was fantastic.

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Dinner at Red Lobster

We were on our way home when my daughter called and said her boyfriend had the truck torn apart and needed to pick up a hose to complete it, could I swing by, pick him up and take him around the corner to the auto store.  I went by her house, dropped off Patrick, picked up Rob and took him to the auto shop, then went back around and dropped off Rob and picked up Patrick and we came home and unloaded the car.

The evening was finished off with Caroline (my daughter) and her three kids coming over for a while, and then Patrick and I watched a bit of TV.  It was a wonderful day for me, and I’m sure a great first day of freedom for him as well.

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Does nature know when school starts?

Summer has been rolling along nicely here in Michigan.  The temperatures have been a bit up and down, but for this state that is normal.  For the most part though it was summer weather, summer wear — flip flops, shorts, tank tops, and sunblock.

Then it became the last week of August.  The temperature turned cooler, people were in a variety of clothing styles, an indication they weren’t quite sure what the weather was going to dole out and were making their best guess.  You would see someone in shorts, then someone in pants, a tank top then a sweatshirt, sandals then boots.  Why?  Because even though it wasn’t “cold” it felt that way to some.

Does nature know kids are going back to school and that temperatures must drop to get children in the mood for school?  Is this a system of reminding parents that if they haven’t purchased that exhaustive list of school supplies they need to handle it now?  How did the school schedule get established in the September to June rotation so that children are attending during the coldest months of the season?

I have learned that our traditional September to June school schedule was established at a time when the United States was a farm-based society and children had to help with spring planting and fall harvesting of crops.  The September to June schedule with three months off in the summer best suited the needs of children being able to help in the fields during the main production period with as little interference as possible in their education.

Even though we are no longer a farm-based society and industrialization has ended the time of children needing to be taken out of school to help with farm duties, the schedule has held pretty close to the traditional rotation for decades.  My statement thank teachers

A number of states have tried to increase the hours of a school day, lengthen the period of time that students attend, and some have attempted a year-round school schedule.  What many places have found is that increasing the number of hours a student attends also increases operating costs for the school district and many can not afford the increase.

The level of learning, length of time a student spends in school, methods for teaching, and every other aspect of education in this country is constantly being evaluated and changes made.   The length of the school year is normally determined by a specific number of days or hours of instruction. One hundred eighty days (180) is the minimum required by many states, five states require more than 180 days, and five states require less than 175 days.  Here in Michigan students are required to attend a minimum 180 days.

So what this all means is that it is now September and for the next 9-10 months there are certain times of day when we may be delayed by a school bus.  We will see children carrying backpacks loaded down with books, lunches, and a number of other necessities for school.   The rotation of school sports, PTO meetings, parent-teacher conferences, homework, report cards, and school breaks is now in session.  Whether nature knows it or not, the school year has begun.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Activities, children, education, exploration, Family, farm, kids, Life is a Melting Pot, Michigan, nature, parents, school, summer, time, Weather

A Child’s Viewpoint

I recently had the pleasure of watching my grandchildren for a day.  Time with a 2-1/2 year old, 6 year old and 11 year old always brings a few laughs and simple pleasures.

The simple days, when at six years of age it is a tragedy when your younger sister won’t share her goldfish crackers.  Really?  She only has a couple dozen out of an entire bag, not like there aren’t more to put into a separate bowl for him.   The world is once again at peace, all thanks to a few crackers shaped like fish.

Why is it at 2-1/2 years of age you are capable of stripping all clothing off a doll more than a dozen times a day, but can never get them back on.  Of course once the doll is naked it must be dressed, but Grandma must do that.  The doll is dressed, life is good, until thirty minutes later when that doll is once again, for some unknown reason, naked.  And the hours pass by….

Planning for my future residence, Corbin (age 6) “It would be neat if you had a really big house with a space ship on top.”

Why, I ask, would I want a house with a space ship on the top of it.  The answer, according to Corbin, is simple.  “Because it would be cool!”

Okay, so there you go.  My retirement home floor plans are being laid out now.

When you don’t know how to respond to certain announcements, such as Austin (age 11), “Gunther is dead.”

Austin has autism, so comprehension is sometimes difficult, and he had just been dropped off after spending the weekend at his dad’s house, so with the same seriousness in which he expressed this loss I asked “who is Gunther?”

I received a very straight-faced, serious answer, “He is a Zombie.”

Sorry, I had nothing after that.  I guess the death of a zombie, or the creation of a zombie due to death, has a greater impact on some than it does on me.

Prior to the kids coming over and knowing I would have just Corbin and Alexandria for lunch I checked with my daughter to see what the best food choices would be and planned accordingly.    I had purchased the family size Velveeta Shells and Cheese, and let’s face it, as a general rule Mac & Cheese is a kid favorite.  Apparently sometimes this is not the case.

As he sits down to eat Corbin looks at the food and says “I don’t like macaroni and cheese.”

I responded that yes he does, his mother told me he eats it all the time.

Corbin — “Not today, I’m six and sometimes we don’t like things.”

Imagine that!  I thought six year olds were always logical and cooperative.  Guess I got that wrong.

Blowing bubbles, that wonderful outside activity that all children love to do.  The problem is Alexandria (2-1/2) simply doesn’t understand that it would be preferable if I moved the wand away from my body before she attempted to blow the bubbles right back at me.  Of course that is a toss-up with the other option of letting her hold the wand herself and trying to convince her that if she didn’t put her mouth on the wand to blow, she wouldn’t get the icky tasting soap on her tongue.  The results aren’t in on whether more bubble soap made it into the air as bubbles or if more ended up on our bodies due to Alex’s still to be perfected bubble-blowing technique.

Then there is the issue of cleanliness.  When I informed Corbin that he is supposed to flush and wash his hands after using the bathroom he said “you know, I washed my hands yesterday.”

Good to know, can we do it today as well please.  Of course this goes along with the request he wash his hands and him turning them back and forth saying “they aren’t dirty.”

Girls in that regard are so much easier.  I can say “Alex your face is dirty, let’s wash it.” and she comes and stands beside me waiting to get cleaned up.

A day with children is always entertaining, enlightening, and just plain fun.  Blocks, cars, trains, slides, bubbles, a messed up floor filled with toys.  Cracker crumbs, candy, spilled water, and more.  As the day wears on electronic pads filled with games are great for keeping children from killing each other off and/or driving an adult insane.

 

 

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Filed under Activities, children, Coping, Discoveries, exploration, Family, grandchildren, home, kids, Life is a Melting Pot, play, summer, time

Childhood Cravings

I was grocery shopping recently and had a craving for a childhood snack — graham crackers with frosting on them.  I purchased the box of crackers and grabbed what I thought was standard chocolate frosting.  Imagine my delight when I popped open that little container and discovered chocolate mint — double yum!

That got me to thinking about some of the simple things from my childhood that kids today don’t have the opportunity to experience.   Back when I was a child life was more simple.  Summer was spent playing outside.  There weren’t any arranged play-dates set up by parents, we weren’t in day care centers, and our parents did not have us participating in scheduled activities.  childhood - chinese jump rope

We got up in the morning and walked or rode our bike to a friend’s house, rang the doorbell and asked if they could come out and play.  When was the last time a child did that?  Today’s children probably wouldn’t know how.   We didn’t have video games, cell phones, ipads, or any of the other technology that kids today rely on.  So what did we do with our time?  We had fun!

A field behind the house could be trampled down into “rooms” in which we could roll out our baby carriages and play house.  We would lay on our backs and look at the clouds, making determinations on what they looked like.  We played Ring-Around-The-Rosie, Duck-Duck-Goose, Mother May I, Red Rover Red Rover, Tag, Kick-the-Can, and hide-and-go-seek.

We only had three TV channels, and cartoons were a Saturday morning specialty.  Every kid sat in front of the TV watching their favorites.  Between Saturdays we had our comic books to read.   My girlfriend and I would put our comic books into the saddle baskets of our bikes, then read our comic books as we rode our bikes down the street no-handed….and we weren’t even wearing helmets!

childhood - jacksWe would sit on the porch playing jacks.  At one time I was able to handle pick-ups of 20 jacks at a time.  We played a lot.  Do kids play jacks anymore?  Are they even available to purchase?  Ours were tiny metal jacks with a small red ball.    What about hula hoops and pogo sticks?  With a swing of the hips your hula hoop could be forced up to the neck or down to the knees and back to the waste.  Regular jump rope, Chinese jump rope, and hop scotch kept us busy.

I lived in a small town.  We would ride our bikes downtown and go to the library and the dime store.  I did a lot of reading.  Nancy Drew was my favorite, and so was Alfred Hitchcock and Agatha Christie as I got older.   We bought pop in glass bottles out of a vending machine.  Everyone chewed Bazooka bubble gum, and we all loved the little tiny comics that came inside.  Gum wrappers were used to make chains…what we did with those chains I don’t remember.

We looked for 4-leaf clovers.  Flower petals were pulled off one-by-one saying “he loves me, he loves me not.”  Dandelions were held under the chin to see if your chin shone yellow, but I don’t remember why.  If we found a dandelion gone to seed, a “wisher,” we were thrilled….but our father wasn’t if he saw us blowing those seeds out into the lawn.

childhood - pogo stickBack then most people did not have air conditioning.  Windows were open, fans were used.  One strong childhood summer memory does not involve me but my father.  He would mow the lawn and then afterward watch the ball game on TV.  One of my favorite scents and sounds of summer is the combination of fresh mowed grass and a baseball ball game on the TV or radio.

What are some of your childhood memories?  No matter how old or young you are, if you are an adult I am sure things have changed since your childhood.   Do you have childhood cravings?  Do you wish your children and/or grandchildren could experience life as it once was, not as it is now?

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Benefits of Hitting a Brick Wall

When I started this blog my intent was to begin building a reader base and to also write a book about the events that surrounded my husband and I attempting to foster and adopt our granddaughters.  We were denied contact, denied the ability to foster, DHS fought the recommendation in our favor on adopting the oldest child, and the girls were eventually adopted out to strangers, not family.  I wrote about it in Attempted Adoption: An Emotional Whirlwind three years ago.

I also began a memoir at the same time about the events surrounding that time in our life.  I got the first draft of the first four chapters written and then my life turned into a turmoil and I sat it aside.  I have had it tumbling around in my brain and do want to get back into the writing.

At the time I was working on those first four chapters I knew something didn’t seem right but I couldn’t figure out what it was.  I have just completed reading  The Truth of Memoir by Kerry Cohen and now know what was wrong.   I was writing when I was still angry at what happened.  If you write from an angry/frustrated viewpoint you do not treat the people in your book fairly.  I wanted to get back at Child Protective Services, Department of Human Services, Michigan Children’s Institute, the guardian ad litem, the judge…everyone who had a part in denying us our grandchildren.  There were other people who also frustrated me, such as my son’s ex-wife who was addicted to pain killers, which played a roll in the children being taken, and my son who was caught doing home invasions and went to prison for a lengthy enough period of time that his parental rights would be terminated.

When I started the book I felt it important to tell our story, to help people realize that this is a corrupt system and it is a nationwide problem.  At the same time I was out to make those I felt treated us unfairly look bad.  While their behavior may have been deplorable, I still need to treat them with fairness in the book, meaning I need to stress that it is my viewpoint.  I also need to make allowances for the fact that these people were doing their job, and recognize that it can be a pretty horrid job to be involved in.  While emotion is important to a memoir, so is understanding and fairness.

Memoir - not about blame or hurtSo what do I do now?  I pick up where I left off and keep on writing.  When I have completed the first draft I will go back and re-work, edit, and tweak every chapter.  From a legal standpoint I have to determine for which persons I will use real names and which people will have their name changed.  As I work my way through the writing and editing process I may on occasion share a small section here as a post.

My brick wall was life, but in the end it was a good wall to hit when it came to my writing.  I have had time to process the events now.  While I may not agree with the process and outcome, I can now deal more fairly with each person in my memoir.  The benefit of hitting that wall is that my writing will now be better because of it.

 

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Filed under Adoption, celebration, Child Protective Services, children, Coping, CPS, Department of Human Services, DHS, education, Family, Foster Care, Life is a Melting Pot, memoir

The Power of Touch

The other night as I lay in bed for hours unable to fall asleep, my mind began circling and the result is the topic of this blog.  The power of touch is necessary to the well-being of the human soul, it can bring comfort, love, relaxation, excitement, security and more.

Touch - the first languageWhen a child is born touch brings it comfort.  You hold it, rock it, feed it.  You do those things when it is happy, you do those things when it is stressed.  The baby learns love thought the power of touch.  To an adult, there is nothing as unique and cozy as a small infant cuddled up against your neck sleeping.

As the infant grows into a toddler and young child touch makes them feel safe, secure, and loved.  They cuddle in your lap, hold your hand when walking in public places, hug you when you are leaving or have arrived, climb into your bed when they awaken at night.  The power of touch is important to the child’s emotional well-being and growth.

As the child becomes a teen their desire for touch moves away from the parents and more toward members of the opposite sex in their own age group.  Teens are often seen showing public displays of affection — hand holding, kissing, hugging, and more as hormones rage.  Touch is powerful.  touch - every day reach out and touch someone

As teens become adults outward public displays of affection calm down, but the need for them does not.  It just becomes more mature, more private.  Human touch provides a sense of security, love, and connection, especially when shared with a spouse or significant other.

Years ago I read that if you are having trouble sleeping you should touch your spouse or significant other.  Something as simple as placing a hand against their body will help you relax and fall asleep.  I found that it worked beautifully.  Although my husband and I quite often slept wrapped up around each other,  he would normally be asleep before I was in bed.  If I was having trouble falling asleep I would reach out and put my hand on him and usually within a few minutes I was able to doze off.  If he sensed me coming into bed he would roll over and cuddle up with me.  If one of us was sick the other would wrap up around the sick one, bringing body warmth and comfort.  Human touch heals and relaxes.

touch - cuddling relieves depressionThat is why I was writing this post in my head as I lay in bed awake a few nights ago.  My husband passed away fifteen months ago.  I couldn’t sleep and I was laying in a lonely bed.   I missed having someone there to cuddle up to, to touch, to help me relax so I could doze off.

It is important as time passes on and things in your life change that you remember to fulfill those things that are necessary to your physical and emotional well-being.  The power of human touch is important.  If it has disappeared from your life revitalize it through whatever means you deem appropriate.   The power of touch heals, empowers, and fulfills the emotional and physical needs to provide an overall sense of well-being.

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The Dog Ate My Homework

It was spring, sunshine streaming down, making everything warm, drawing me outside.  The smell of freshly cut grass made me stop, pause and breath deeply, enjoying the clean scent.   Someone had their windows open, I could hear a baseball game blasting on a TV.

My left arm wrapped around my textbook, American Government.  The page of questions to answer, sheets of loose-leaf paper and a pencil lay on top of the book.  At least I could enjoy the beautiful weather while I did my homework.

I saunter through the grass, enjoying the feel of it on my bare feet.  I pick a spot under the weeping cherry tree, its branches full of pink blossoms flow back and forth in the breeze.

I let go of the book and supplies in my arm and they drop to the ground, disturbing the green grass around them.  Not having been mowed yet, the blades of grass bend and curve around the folder and paper.

I cross my ankles and plop down beside my homework, landing in the grass in a cross-legged “Indian style” position.

I flip open the book and begin answering the questions…Name and define the branches of government.  What are the fundamental goals of political parties?  What is the Due Process Clause?  On and on through twenty questions.

I throw my pencil on top of my answers, lay back on the grass and stare at the sky.  The warm sun envelopes me and I slowly relax, closing my eyes.    I feel the breeze grow stronger, I hear the papers in the grass beside me rustle.  I open my eyes and sit up just as a gust of wind whips by, grabbing the sheet with my homework and whipping it up into the breeze.

I spring to my feet but I’m not quick enough.  A dog goes running by and before I can move he catches my homework paper in his teeth as if it were a toy and continues running!  homework-in-dog-mouth

That little homework thief runs like mad, zig zagging down the road, through lawns, around bushes, dodging my attempts to catch him.  Panting, I stop to catch my breath and so does he, just far enough down the road that he can make another get-away when needed.   He watches me as if to say “ha-ha, beat you!”

I take a step toward the dog and he immediately takes off again.  Entering the park he continues at a full run until he gets to the edge of the river.  Dropping my homework at his feet, the dog stands guard over it, tongue hanging out as he pants.

The wind swirls around us, the paper flutters then lifts and before the homework thief could snatch it back I watch it fly out over the river, floating on the breeze.  The speed of the wind slows, the paper drops toward the water, then by luck it lands on a log floating down the river.

As long as the homework stays on the log and I can figure out a way to catch it and retrieve the paper it will be saved.   I walk along the water’s edge, keeping my eye on the log, watching it carry my homework farther and farther down river.

I hear a humm, and it is getting closer, louder.  Oh no!  This is not going to be good.  No, not that!   Hmmmmmmm, and sure enough, two jet skis come flying up river full throttle, zipping back and forth, creating a huge wake.  The water sloshes back and forth, rocking everything in its path.

The log that is transporting my homework rocks back and forth under the pressure of the rolling river water.  The log spins, twists, and my homework flies off the log and floats down into the cresting waves.  Soaked with water, it spins and twists in the beating waves, slowly sinking into the water until it is no longer visible.  Gone forever, wrecked and sunken at the bottom of the river.

So, that is why I don’t have my homework.  It was caught in the wind, stolen by a dog, carried to the river’s edge, blown out over the water and onto a log that got caught in the tossing and turning wake of jet skis and then sunk to its death in the bottom of the river.

The teacher looked at me in disbelief.  Eyebrows raised, lips pursed, and a grin slowly kept across her face.

“That story is so farfetched it has to be true.”

Now what do you think, did this really happen or do I have a very vivid imagination?


Homework: Bring Your Kitty To School.  'My dog ate my homework.'

Author’s Note:  I received a writer’s prompt in my email, which is something designed to get your creative juices flowing.  Usually they don’t inspire me because I am normally a non-fiction writer, but this one intrigued me and I thought “why not?”  After all, it is a well-known excuse and the challenge was to come up with an elaborate story as to what happened to your homework because the teacher didn’t believe the typical “my dog ate my homework” excuse.  A fun break from my normal type of post.

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Abusive Men are Bullies

I have never suffered from domestic violence, so I can not begin to imagine how those who have gone through it truly  feel.  However I have encountered numerous women and at least one man who have suffered domestic violence in the form of spousal abuse.  I can not understand what makes them stay for years in such a relationship, all I know is that they have a very hard time breaking free of the overbearing, controlling relationship they have been in far too long.domestic-violence-emotional

I recently had dealings with the abusive ex-husband of a client.  It gave me a bit of insight into the man’s conduct, and perhaps some of the reasoning behind their abusive conduct.  It was a bit of an enlightening experience.  I also had the opportunity to see him and his own mother together and realized he was controlled by his mother, and as a result he most likely needed to feel in control of something and satisfied that need by bullying women.

The second thing I noticed is an abusive man does not handle it well when they are unable to bully and intimidate a woman.   The abuser tried to do this with me on the phone 2-3 times and I refused to comply with his demands.  He was not our client.  He was not who I worked for.  So what happened?  When he couldn’t bully me on the phone he showed up at our office.

The first time he remained fairly calm.  He didn’t like my answers, he didn’t like that I would not comply with his demands, and he stormed out of the office.  The second time he was there with his mother, and after a verbal exchange during which I had the person I work for on the phone and relayed his instructions, they stormed out of the office.  But that wasn’t the end.

About thirty minutes later the abuser came back in alone.  By this time another man was in the building but was not visible to the front office.  The abuser was again trying to bully me, making demands, and didn’t like it when I refused to back down.  He was escalating.  He was getting louder and louder, and was puffing his body up to look bigger, more threatening.  I told him to leave.  He did not.

The abuser continued to escalate and the other man in the building heard it and came out to see what was going on.  The abuser was told that he needed to leave, but instead took a step toward my “rescuer.”  At that point he was told “You need to leave NOW.”   The abuser turned and exited the building.

domestic-violence-battered-woman-syndromAfter he left I looked at my rescuer and said “I was holding my own okay” and he agreed that I was, but didn’t like the fact that the man was standing in the lobby yelling at me.  He also felt threatened by the abuser’s body language, and wasn’t sure whether it would escalate into something more.

So what did I learn?  That the abuser is nothing more than a bully.  He didn’t like the fact that I was unwilling to cower and do what he demanded.  He was trying to scare me.  I refused to crumble and he didn’t know how to handle that.  The second thing is he is a bully and a coward.  He tries to control by instilling fear, and when he is unable to intimidate he doesn’t know what to do.  When he took a step toward another man and that person didn’t back away, he realized he had no control and and things were not going to be in his favor so he turned and left.

Since that day I have been jumbling around in my brain the fact that women live with people like that on a daily basis, for years.  Afraid to make a wrong move.  They are beaten and then told it was their own fault for doing something to make the man mad.  They are afraid to make a move, to have their husband/boyfriend find out they have gone somewhere or done something without his permission.  They are controlled by fear.

That is no way to live.  It is a serious problem.  Songs are written about it.  Movies have been done on it.  Years ago a book and movie “The Burning Bed” brought abuse into the public eye.  Songs continue to be written.  Independence Day by Martina McBride and more recently Gunpowder and Lead by Miranda Lambert are only a couple.  While I don’t condone killing someone, the lyrics to those songs convey the desperation and fear in abused women.

If you know someone who is being abused, or believe is being abused, they may deny or lie about it taking place.  There are shelters they can contact to help them when they are ready to leave.  The statistics are daunting.

domestic-violence-2emotionalWhat I learned in a quick internet search is that every nine seconds in the United States a woman is assaulted or beaten; and around the world at least one in every three women has been beaten, coerced into sex or otherwise abused in her lifetime.  Children often witness the abuse, which can lead to a revolving cycle, both as men becoming abusers because they believe it to be “normal” and women being abused, because they believe that is the way all women are treated.

Domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women, more than car accidents, muggings and rapes combined.  Domestic violence occurs not just between husband and wife, but also in dating relationships, even in the teenage years.  Nearly one in five teenage girls say they have had a boyfriend threaten violence if the girl broke off the relationship.

The problem is, often women don’t recognize the early signs of abuse.  It can be verbal — demeaning comments, criticism, making the person feel they lack value.  Once a person’s self-esteem has been crushed, they are more easily controlled.

It can be controlling, always demanding to know where that person is, presented as “concern” for their well-being.  There is a difference between casual concern over a person’s well being, a courteous exchange of schedules/plans versus having to know where a person is every minute of the day, what they are doing and who they are with.

Whether is is you who is being abused or someone you know, remember:
1.  It is not your fault that they are abusive, it is their’s.
2.  Children who witness abuse are more likely to grow up to be an abuser or a victim.
3.  There doesn’t have to be bruises for it to be abuse.
4.  There are shelters that can take you and your children in when escaping an
abusive spouse
5.  Abusers are bullies, and bullies don’t abuse people who refuse to cower,
because most bullies are themselves cowards.

Some people are only subjected to verbal abuse, some to physical abuse, some to both.  There is a domestic violence hotline that can be accessed around the clock at 1−800−799−7233. There are local shelters that can take you in and keep you safe.    No one should live in fear in their own home.

 

 

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