Just Stuff and Nonsense and a Smile

My mom always said that doing dishes together made for a great time of good conversation and general fellowship and sociability.
This was when she was trying to get one of us to volunteer to do the dishes after a big meal, preferably a Holiday Meal. Most all of our Sunday dinners were essentially a holiday meal. We always had parishioners of some sort invited over, with tons of dishes and our “good china” always—the sort with which you had to be extra careful .

Let me hasten to say that I am a strong proponent of dishwashers, the electric kind, but even they entail “doing the dishes “ and especially the pots and pans. I hate putting away the food and as my children will tell you, I save quantities of containers for this purpose. When Julie was last home she threw out maybe 50 butter containers ready for my leftovers. "When are you going to ever need 50 at one time" she asked.

I came across this picture of Jacob, my grandson when he was but a wee child doing the dishes at the cottage at Green Lake. Just think, he is getting married in April! Now doesn’t that give you a jolt as to how fast time flies in this life.

And then we have a picture of my husband Bill doing the dishes. I must have been dying because he never did them that I can recall.


This next picture is an early morning-after a Saturday night dinner dance. Mismatched pj’s and Julie loves this shot.



And this is one of Julie herself washing wine glasses I think with Jon looking on.

Isn’t this a fascinating post tho? Sorry. It was all I could think of this week.

WHAT IS JOY?

WHAT IS JOY?

Today I had a great time of joy in my life. My two-year old granddaughter and her daddy came to visit and Matilda (Miranda) spent most of the time with her ever present smile on her face, exploring my house, the piano, all the doors and where they led , throwing every pillow on the floor, etc.

She finally came to sit on my lap and watch a little TV. What a joy to play with my fingers through her golden hair and to write on her back. She sat so still. She loved it. My son smiled as he remembered I always used to do that to him when he was little. What utter joy as I felt her weight on my lap and her straight little back in front of me.

Pure joy. What is it and where do we find it? How often do we truly experience joy? If one thinks about it, one can find certain occasions when we have felt really joyous. I can think of a few offhand. When the family is on the way to the lake in the summer and you can hardly wait for that first glimpse of the water as you round the curve and then you are there and you run down to the dock and say hello to the lake and feel pure joy at being there.

When Julie had to wear her scoliosis brace all through jr. hi and high school, it was so painful at first and she had to wear it 23 out of 24 hours. And I talked to her and told her to keep going and doing things as much as she could. That I had had a student that just let the kids carry her books for her and all she did was sit and get whiter and whiter. We went to a Christmas program at the junior high one night and she was in a skit. There was a pause for the longest time when it was over. She came running into the gym from the hall, noticed the awkward silence, smiled widely and to everyone’s delight yelled “Merry Christmas” all the way to her seat in the band. They had to wait for her trombone! I knew then she would make it and she had made up her mind and did it all herself. That was joy..

When I was young and madly in love with my college sweetheart who had gone back to New York for the summer and returned in September—that night when he came to my house I was living in where I was teaching—that was joy.

When Bill finally got a position here in Green Bay after a two year separation, he in Iowa and the two youngest boys and me in Michigan—that was joy. You should hear my son tell about his reaction!

There is a difference in being happy generally speaking and having certain events stand out as being joyous. The first year we were married, Bill taught 100 miles away from me and came home every week-end. That was happiness. Honeymoon prolonged into a whole school year.

So what is your joy? Do you think of joyous moments when you are down? Do you find that you can think of a lot of them –small and big moments that you had forgotten?

Hold them close to your heart.

FANCIFUL BALLET DANCER

I have a dancer all dressed in red in my backyard. No matter that it is 5 degrees out not counting wind-chill, she merrily twirls and kicks and dances her heart away. It is fun to watch her and she never tires; tho she takes breaks now and then.

She is a big red bow which my son attached to the big willow for a Christmas decoration. I have left it there and it is a source of enjoyment to see my imaginative little girl dancing away in the breeze. It is amazing that one’s eye can transform an inanimate object to a real live person – a ballet dancer full of grace and beauty.

Some of you might think this is about as entertaining as watching the grass grow. But this has been a long cold snowy hard winter and it doesn’t take much for some of us to find something of interest.

I must share with you the funniest thing I have read today. I was reading Ladybirdworld about comments and her discussion of long versus short howdoyoudos. One person said that he thought of copying the Bible and pasting it as a comment if what she wanted was length. (With tongue in cheek, of course)

It was a great discussion of this topic. Do you write for yourself or for others? Do you enjoy comments or not? Do you leave comments or not and are they relevant to the post you are commenting on

Well, I was on my way somewhere today and even had gone so far that the car was warmed up but when I got out walking to my destination, my COPD kicked in and I turned around and came home. I fully planned on just stopping for a second and go to my next destination but the house felt so warm and cozy after that blast of arctic air that I haven’t moved in that direction yet. But I am going. I am. I have to go down to see my husband today!!!! Just 30 miles back and forth. I can do that. I’m going.

BLOGGING! WHY DO WE DO THAT?

Rather than go out and haul the recyclables back in ( must be the wrong week as they pick it up every other) I decided to write a post. I got up this morning and as is my habit, I checked in on the computer to see if anyone had written me. Julie did but all other was either delete material or spam. I didn't get downstairs to eat my breakfast until one o'clock.

Which speaks to what I wanted to say today. I decided to spend some time reading and commenting on other blogs. I always get bogged down doing this as I find such fascinating blogs out there.

There are artists with fantastic paintings on display, people who have found really wonderful poets and quote some of their poetry, and people who live in other countries who show how and where they live. Hey, there is a whole world out there and one could spend all one's time on the computer in the blog world!

Not to mention all the other avenues there are. I have been following the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the Art Museum in Chicago and the one in London and in the Netherlands for a long time. But I love to hear from those who live close to the animals on the farm with pictures of their young and the beauty of them as well. And how the meadow looked in the mist. And read about people's feelings and thoughts.

Just wanted to tell everyone how much blogging means to me.

YOUNG AT HEART CHORUS

Last night I happened upon a program on PBS after Bill Moyer which featured a chorus of “Old Geezers” calling themselves the “ Young at Heart Chorus”. The members of this chorus began from an Old People’s Rest Home from somewhere in Massachusetts back in the 1980’s and have become famous and sought after entertainment all over the world. In this program, all members were over 80 years old. One lady who began the program was 91. You want to know what they sing?Elevator music? Old folk songs? Opera? Nope, they sang famous rock and roll songs with a lively kick and beat. Beatle songs, Jim Croce songs, and of course “May you always be young at heart.” And they were good. If one came to hear them expecting weak and wavering voices, they were greeted with whoops and a marvelous rendition of intricate passages of these old famous favorite songs.

The program followed them along a year of rehearsal until the final concert on stage with the huge auditorium filled with old and young—all delighted at what they saw and heard. Most all of it were fun songs but there was one was sad one. This gentleman had promised this one man who had a lead part in one song to sing it for him if he died as he was in his fourth bout of chemo. He did die and this man—very obese with a breathing tube attached to his nose and hardly able to walk to the chair sat and sang a lovely song in his memory with such emotion and such a beautiful bass voice ending with “I will fix you” The audience stood up and gave him such an ovation crying right along with him.

The interviews with various members in between were revealing. All thought singing kept them alive longer than many of them were expected to. Several had had last rites and they joked about not seeing the white light. Their main purpose in life had become getting to the rehearsals and the joy they experienced when the audience loved them. They loved to perform.

My message here is not only to tell you about this wonderful chorus, but to emphasize their message which is to live each day and have a purpose to live for up until the very end. Be active and engaged in life. Don't just wait to die. For me, it was a very powerful message, but I think it should be for all no matter how old. It is a good lesson.

If you want to learn more about this group, google Young at Heart Chorus.

FOOTBALL HEART ATTACK

In Arizona men are laughing and little children shout;
But there is not joy in Green Bay for the mighty Packers lost out.

Yeah, the town is kind of silent here today with people sighing and shaking their heads in disbelief. We should have been the winners of that wonderful game. At least they are saying it was probably the best play off game in history and it was so nerve wracking seesawing back and forth. I knew it would be the team who had the ball last but I thought it was going to be us when their kicker missed the field goal. That was unbelievable! And then to have it end so quickly one could hardly take it in. Arizona played well and their quarterback could score at will so I guess our defense wasn't so hot. Why did they keep to the zone? Oh well, what do I know?

We finally got out of the really cold stuff today but even 25 felt cold. It was sort of damp and that made it feel really colder than it was. It is supposed to get up to 30 something by Wednesday. Hooray. I am sick of winter already.

Talk to you all later. After all, it is just a game, a season, a hope, and for this town a raison d'etre.

GRADUATION BUT AT WHAT COST

“Felix, Felix, get up! Get up!

After working six years to get through college, my last quarter almost turned into a nightmare. Some of you who read my post about when I was kicked out of college at the end of my junior year will remember that I was denied going to summer school. That had more repercussions later.

Very close to the end of the school year, the registrar suddenly discovered that in order to graduate, I was one credit short. The only class that I hadn’t taken that was available to me was a lifesaving swimming class for one credit. Great, I thought. I can do that.

This class was being held at the YMCA because our college did not have a swimming pool .I didn’t have a swim suit and could not afford to buy one. My sister in Chicago sent me hers and it was a bikini. Bikinis were not in general use at the time and it was pink and orange and black (Sis never did have good taste in clothes;) ) and the top was not very secure but it was all I had to use.

Too late, I found out that I was going to be the only female in the class. The day came for our first class and I walked down to the Y and went alone into the ladies room to change into my suit. I stayed in that room for 45 minutes pacing the floor not wanting to walk into that den of wolves in a bikini. A whole football team made up of mostly beefy linebackers!

But you gotta do what you gotta do and I had to graduate. So I finally entered the swimming pool area. There were a few whistles and grins but I sauntered in with the most poise I could muster. And the class went on.

The first lesson involved learning to float. We had been divided into partners and we were supposed to float to one another. Of course, I drew Felix P. , middle offensive lineman, who was at least 360 pounds. Well, I floated to Felix all right and he drew me up out of the water when I reached him just fine. Then Felix floated to me –and I tugged and I tugged and I could not budge him and that is when I kept hitting him on the shoulder and yelling, “Felix, Felix, get up!”

The class progressed and it became more of a class in elemental swimming as most of us were not proficient enough to work with lifesaving techniques. Moe floated right to the bottom no matter how hard he tried to stay afloat. I knew how to dog paddle and the old side stroke, but I was really good at the butterfly stroke. How come, I don’t know but the coach would ask me to demonstrate it for the class. Now, why do you suppose he did that?

We did have to learn how to dive off the high board. Or should I say we all had to try to dive off the high board. When it came my turn, I was terrified but all the guys were very supportive and were encouraging me to “come on, just do it” and so I put my arms and head down and hit the water below with my head and was nearly knocked out cold. They had to pull me out. I served the food in the dining hall that night feeling really woozy!.

I hated that class and I would tell the coach every two weeks or so I had my period and thus would be excused for that day. (This was before the age of tampons, folks. At least those of us who thought we would lose the string and that thing up there forever.) He was a rather timid soul and did not argue with me. (Course he had turned beet red when I came up one time from under the water and the bra top hadn’t held)

When the class came to an end we had to do all the stuff we had learned including diving off the high board ----me with the same result.

I passed with a C and was graduated . Finally!

Not with a bang, but a whimper.