Beetles and Bushes

... and flowers too!  A memory just surfaced about a pesky critter that I worked very hard to eliminate from my home environment when I was quite young.

On one of my rideabouts I saw that a neighbor had stalks growing next to her mailbox and they were about to bloom!  Well I knew this flower well as the entire base of a next door neighbor in the 1940's was full of them.

Pop used to give me and my brother glass jars filled with kerosene and our mission was to grab and drown as many of the beetles as we could find! It was basically meant to be used for those that were invading the barberry bushes in front of our home, but we also got many from the flowers of neighbors. Pop would strain the dead ones away and give us back our refilled jars containing the same toxic liquid and off we went again on our hunt for more!  

I'm plagued here as well because the eat my ferns and the thimbleberries that grow along the road's bank nearby. 

Sentimental Pumpkin

For many years I enjoyed going to the orchard, picking out some gourds and pumpkins and decorating the cabin porch. Now I only put one out there, next to "Henry the Hen", the small orange one.

You see, it is ceramic. It was my mother's. It was given to her at the skilled nursing facility where she spent the last years of her life after a fall, shattering her thigh bone. It was filled with an arrangement of colorful real flowers of the season. Every resident at the facility received one. She decorated hers! After she died, I took it as my own and love how her decoration has lasted and I cherish this special pumpkin! It makes me laugh as it must have made her do the same after her artwork was completed! I find it funny that some things really matter!

This is a happy pumpkin and is loved!

Thoughts

Today I came across a writing that a longtime friend wrote before she died and it hit a nerve. That is because I'm always looking back and, in fact did just that today! I truly miss hanging out my laundry. Actually I miss doing it myself. I even once worked in a personal care boarding home for several years and did all the laundry for 30 residents! As a young mother I was overly proud to have the whitest diapers on the line showing to all who passed by. My mother was the same. It was a very satisfying task and I was always willing to assist with it. Soooooo, I pulled out some fairly recent photos to remember how good it felt to have clean laundry on the line. As my shoulder lost motion over the years I just had to give it up. That hurt! I know there are more photos not scanned but those images are well remembered.

2009

 2010

2011

(Broke shoulder 2012)

2013

2014

2014

2015

2016

2016

2017

2018

2020

Now many birds use the line as a perch. 

It is all frayed.

********************************************************************************

PAST VS. PRESENT

The past is the past for a reason.
That is where it is supposed to stay,
But some cannot let it go.
In their heads it eats away

Until all their focus becomes
The person they used to be and
Mistakes that happened in their life.
Oh, if only they could see

That you cannot change what happened, 
No matter how hard you try,
No matter how much you think about it,
No matter how much you cry.

What happens in your lifetime 
Happens for reasons unknown,
So you have to let the cards unfold 
Let your story be shown.

Don't get wrapped up in the negative.
Be happy with what you have been given.
Live for today not tomorrow.
Get up, get out, and start living,

Because the past is the past for a reason.
It's been, and now it is gone,
So stop trying to think of ways to fix it.
It's done, it's unchangeable, move on......

    by Jan Grace 10-28-17

Autumn

The Mister and Beatrice are in good company with Dusty Miller and Pink Seedum.

James is hoping to survive his 12th winter.

This dandelion just won't give up!

Yep! Autumn is on its way...

"Yellow the bracken, golden the sheaves.

Rosy the apples, crimson the leaves.

Mist on the hillside, clouds grey and white,

Autumn, Good Morning, Summer, Good Night!"

~Florence Hoatson

Foodie

Sometimes I have been called a “Foodie.” Now that can be a complement or it can be an insult. Yes, I have cooked and baked and canned and dehydrated ever since I was young. I watched my grandma and my mother and learned from them. After all, when I was growing up, putting food on the table was the main occupation of a housewife along with raising children and keeping the home in order. There was a lot of “farmer” in my family and times were hard so frugality was necessary. Have you ever had to eat something you didn’t like or even hated? I have. To this day I cannot eat sweet potatoes. They gag me. 

Whenever a rabbit or chicken was butchered (I might add right in our back yard) my mother would call us to come see how it was done, pointing out and naming each part and what it was for. Whenever the produce from the garden was brought in, the correct and proper handling of it was explained and wasting even the tiniest beet leaf was frowned upon. The compost bucket was important. There was no trash as such, just recyclable trimmings. 

So, yes, food and preparation have always been important to me. Hey, I just remembered Dad bringing home a little box of honeycomb with honey. On his travels doing the state milk tester’s job, he often stopped at stands, with assorted items that we didn’t have nearby. What a special treat! With a teaspoon, you just scooped out a chunk, sucked all the honey out of it and chewed the wax until your jaws ached. Have you ever done that? Sometimes several big and fully ripe sunflowers would show up in the garage. We knew we could pluck a seed, give it a pinch and get to the innards of that treat! It took many for a really good kernel flavor to be savored. We didn’t buy berries, we hunted for them down the road and into the woods a bit. We suffered scratches but oh what jelly they made! The paraffin pot was special and was in use almost all summer long. Do you know how to test to see if your bubbling caramel is ready for you to add the peanuts for brittle?

Today I do little baking from scratch - especially breads. Little baker pot breads are the exception. I’ve grown too fussy to have the flour mess and too lazy too. Cookies are an exception. I have never bought a cookie that can compare with a homemade one. I’m not one for fancy decorations or presentations. Just keeping it simple. 

As for protein, my favorite is the fish category. Any fresh fish, shellfish, or fish product will always come before red meats. BUT! I LOVE LIVER. Next favorite is chicken. There isn’t a single vegetable other than the one mentioned above, that I don’t like. I like them better cooked than raw. All cheeses, yoghurt, eggs and milk are automatically included for protein. (and ice cream) Starch is a weakness. I love noodles, pasta of all shapes and content. Bread favorites are rye (without seeds) whole wheat, sourdough, Italian and pumpernickel. I’ll eat potatoes prepared any way, but not chips! Too salty. I love rice. 

In other words, I’m a Foodie! When in doubt, give me soup! Or fruit - I forgot fruit. Red grapefruit is my favorite.

Oops, I forgot! I do not like hot spicy anything.

Time Flies

Oh for sure it does! Sixty Five YEARS ago, a child was born and today is her birthday. I definitely remember the day I first saw her. The funny part of the story is that the night before, some of her dad's friends and his brother - in the middle of the night - came secretively to the little log cabin at the top of a hill where we lived, to frighten us. They climbed up on the roof and made lots of noise! A PRANK! Well after all of the hullabaloo was over, they left and we went back to our pullout sofa bed - for a little while. Then cramps began and soon after I was in a hospital giving birth. They kept mothers for about a week in those days and I couldn't wait to get the belly and breast bindings removed and go back home. She was the best baby! Her bed was the bottom drawer of a dresser until we got a car carrier that worked well. A baby shower from my workers provided all of the necessary clothes and needs JUST the day before when I took my maternity leave. The landlord lived at the bottom of the hill and after a baby carriage was purchased, I did all of the laundry there. Before the next winter we had rented a small town cottage which was closer to our parents. The next year she had a brother. 

Age 2 months

Marriage 1981

Daughter's Wedding

Son's Wedding

Granddaughter and Grandson

Granddaughter

And, there is a new grandson on the way, expected in August. There is also her pending retirement! Yes, times flies.

I've posted about this before. Repeating myself seems to be common now. If you care to know more read here: New Mother Memory

Nature and Natural

For the last three days I have been brushing down an abundance of  grasses and twigs from a rear carport beam and another area over a power box. It used to be that the persistent female robins would make nests on BOTH the front porch beams and in the carport - even on the horizontal hanging ladder. This year I think the swinging-hanging-moving craft creations protect the front porch. All of the beams in that area used to have water filled plastic soda bottles lined up as deterrents. No more.

Today I have water-filled plastic containers placed as obstacles. No nesting materials there-yet!

                             please tap on image to view larger

Way back in 2007 I wrote a "Memory Story" about wild critters and my interaction with some. This story reminded me of WHY I do not allow robins to nest in the carport. A reason is at the end of this ramble.

NATURE RULES!!!!!!!!

Memory Story

Something you didn't know about me - I have raised and returned to their own habitat, baby squirrels, baby rabbits, baby raccoons, baby groundhogs, baby possums, baby crows, baby owls and more. In fact, the baby squirrels and baby rabbits were put in a clothes basket with my momma cat and she nursed and groomed them along with her own kittens. When they became too playful in the house, I set them free. The squirrels took a long time to adjust to the wild and came, precariously, from the tree to the house on the clothesline, begging for fig newtons (their favorite cookie). Then one day they were gone for good.

I once looked after oriole peeps in a hanging basket that I pinned on the clothesline, too. It had fallen from a tree when they were very young and I found it on the ground.  I would reel it out to the tree and the mother would feed them. I would reel it in to the house so I could see how they were doing. One day they weren't there. I don't know if they flew or were eaten by hawks. The basket was empty except for many little white mites!

I learned early on that if I let the small kittens outdoors the hawks would swoop one up - drop it to kill it - swoop down, get it and fly away. I saw this happen! At first, I thought the kittens had wandered into the woods and got themselves lost, but I could never hear their cries nor find them. It was very upsetting to me.

I killed the crow with "kindness!" Jester was doing nicely in a large home made cage. We had a vacation planned to go to the seashore for the weekend and I put a whole ear of field corn in the cage to last him until we returned. Well......when we came home, he was dead, clutching the perch, with the empty corn cob laying nearby. His crop was huge. We figured he pigged out! Of course he didn't have enough grit in his crop to grind up that much hard corn in one sitting!  Lesson learned.

The raccoons were kept in the horse trailer. I bottle fed them. They were very noisy and loving. When the male became a bit aggressive, I set them free. did you know that they don't actually wash their food? I always had a dishpan of fresh water for them and they would dunk their kibbles before eating. It became apparent that they might not have enough saliva-production to eat. It might also be a habit to better feel their food before tasting it. It is just what they do.

The owls were in auto accidents. Stunned and a bit brain damaged, they were fed bits of hamburger meat until well. It was my brother who found them lying on the road.

If you wonder how I obtained all of these babies, be assured they were all orphans to begin with!  That's another story.

Three years ago, when Ed was recuperating from his heart surgery in May and June, I watched, from my kitchen window in the cabin, a robin build her nest in the carport. I soon saw 4 little eggs. Then, I saw 4 little heads peeking up with mouths opened wide. I saw Momma bird feed those 4 little bare-naked babies. I watched their fuzz turn to feathers. One day I saw a big crow take the last one away in his ugly bill. Boy did that make me angry! Too late for any of them to be saved. I know we shouldn't interfere with nature, but DARN!

GMR April 2007

Keeping Warm

Well, I'll bet a bunch that you never would think of someone writing about a red rubber bottle! It just popped into my mind and I have to get the memory out. OUT! I say, "OUT!!"

First, I would like to say that I love my electric blanket that our daughter gave to me a couple of years ago. I never thought I would use one. When we moved into the cabin in 1997 there were two here and I gave them away because I was afraid of them catching fire. They were old. I started using my new one and now really count on it to keep my feet and legs warm in the winter months. No more wearing long johns and socks to bed! Even when I would stand in front of the fireplace gas insert to warm up and make a 'dash' to the bed, the heat would be gone and I'd have a hard time getting to sleep. Not now. 

As a child of the 40's and 50's the bedding covers were older quilts, lined with wool batting. They were tattered and heavy, we were young, I don't remember being cold. BUT! When we were sick, the hot water bottle was called into action as a belly warmer, foot warmer, neck warmer and more. I think it was common custom to find the red rubber bottle with all of the extra 'parts' hanging on hooks on the back of bathroom doors. At least several were in that exact same place when I used friend's bathrooms! It was common. Never once did I wonder what the extra tubes were for. Now I know. I have no idea if ours were ever used. I just remember the comfort of that red rubber bottle, filled with hot water and covered in a flannel slip-on made a difference. I see they are still sold. Do you have one? I don't. 

 

Remembering Church Choir

“Calvary Song” As remembered by me when in Methodist Junior Choir, always sung as part of Easter. I remember both the words and the melody but cannot find it anywhere on the Internet.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

The pilgrims strolled through the city gates ‘ere the night was falling fast.

They go to watch on calvary hill ‘till the twilight hours are past.

Tho’ dark be the way with eyes of hope,

They gaze on the cross above,

And lo, from each heart, the shadows depart,

As they gaze on his face above,

As they gaze on his face above.

.............................

Rest, rest to the weary, peace, peace to the soul,

Tho’ life may be dreary, earth is not thy goal.

Oh come to me children, lift, lift up thine eyes

I will not forsake thee, 

I will not forsake thee,

I will not forsake thee,

Though all else shall flee, though all else shall flee.

^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^

Some of the words may be incorrect and I believe there was another verse. The memory has lingered in my head for all of these years since 1952. Then music was played on a huge pipe organ and the choir master was Mr. Welch. We sang with great inspiration. He was a motivator and dedicated leader.

I’m not even sure it was considered a hymn. Maybe the Organist/Choir Master wrote it!

UPDATE:

My friend found the original for me!

click on the link below

The Calvary song link

Had to Write It

Sometimes I wish my mind would shut down and stop dragging out the pieces of "Before." Well, it won't but if I write it down it will help some. I know that - so here goes....

Ya know, I got to thinking about how much my schooldays have formed me and the memory of grammar school is becoming more and more vivid as I age. I wonder why that is? Would you believe that I remember most of my teachers and their names and their traits through grades K-4? Let’s start with my first day at school.

It was quite a walk to get there, up the road, through the woods, across a street, and up a flight of concrete steps to the actual brick school. There was a crossing guard in front of the school for us “walkers.” On my first day I didn’t want to go at all. My mother walked with me and promised a lunch of her homemade split pea soup when we got home after school. That did it! My dress was a homemade pink one with little white puff balls making the pattern. My shoes were freshly polished, not new, but polished white buckle type. I already knew how to buckle them myself and was proud of this feat. 

My kindergarten teacher was Miss DeVega. We learned to read by using the Dick And Jane and Spot books. They weren’t ours but were passed out each day. When we read our assigned page well as a class accomplishment on a day, we were treated to a song called the “Whistler and His Dog” that she played on an old horn-type phonograph. We all as a class, loved that song and the reward. It made us feel happy and cheerful. There was also a dog statue on the table beside the player.

Betsy wet her pants almost every day. She was the only one who did that. John’s clothes were almost always scruffy, and another little girl seemed to have something strange about her actions and speech, but we learned how to get along together quite well that first year. I was very observant and the next year things stood out more. I took it all in. 

In first grade I walked back and forth to school no matter the weather with three other girls from my neighborhood. Sometimes we skipped and sometimes we ran. I remember the teacher being strict. Our lessons were conducted on the large chalkboard. It was a privilege to be asked the slap out the chalk from the eraser just before the end of the day. We went outside and beat them on the brick wall of the school. One time the teacher dropped a piece of chalk on the schoolroom floor. I was in the front row and she asked me to pick it up. That didn’t set right with me so I got up and smashed it with my foot. Shocked everyone. Then I was asked to clean it up and when I was done I was punished by having to put my head down on my arms on the desktop. Do you know why I smashed it? My reasoning was that if you drop something you pick it up. If you break something you clean it up. It didn’t seem fair at the time but I didn’t mind at all cleaning it up! She didn’t even say “please.”

I even parted my own hair!

In second grade we were all very close and knew a lot about each other. We learned to knit 5" x 5" squares “for the soldiers” to make blankets to send overseas to keep them warm. All of us did that and we rolled torn sheet strips to make bandages. Every week our dime cardboard savings books were passed to each of us and our dime, if we had one that week, was put in to learn how to save and the books were returned to the teacher. Cursive handwriting began. Coloring time was done as a reward after accomplishments in reading and writing. Crayons were shared by all.

Third grade was a rough time for teachers, kids and parents. There were air raid drills and we were marched in line to the school basements and had to sit on the floors with our heads down and arms around our legs and be silent. The basement pipes were covered in white asbestos and it was musty smelling there. Polio struck a few students. We even went to the iron lung ward at the hospital to visit classmates who were victims. It was scary to hear this noisy machine breathing for someone with only their head sticking at at one end. Not all children stricken by polio had to be in the iron lung. Daniel was fitted with a leg and back brace and played with us on the playground and we were very careful to not knock him off balance. But! I was becoming a scrapper when teased or challenged in the recess periods. I somehow had learned that fisticuffs was an activity I excelled in and that, if I pressed my thumb behind an opponent’s ear, they would faint and I was the winner. I think I learned to defend myself because I grew up with many boys in the neighborhood and they did a lot of scrapping. I remember a boy named Tracy actually kicked the teacher when he didn’t want to do something she asked and he tore her stockings! The entire class was shocked and she just grabbed him and marched him to the principal’s office for punishment. The boy behind me pulled my braids. I learned to ignore him.

We all mellowed out in 4th grade. Learning was fun! Large geography maps were pulled down from the ceiling and a wooden pointer stick was used to learn about the world and the country. An accomplishment that we ALL learned was to be able to point out each state and name it on another pull down map that had no labels. Lifetime friendships were formed and Valentine’s Day was a big deal. The teacher showed us a technique to relax and go to sleep easier at night. I still use it. 

By now we kids all knew who Roosevelt, Churchill, McArthur, Hirohito, Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin and others were and what they did but we DID NOT learn about them in school. We learned from our parents and our friends.

From there I went to a Junior High School and it was the best school a kid should ever have. Fifth through ninth grade - art of all kinds, woodshop, band, choir, orchestra, dance, home economics, typing, shorthand,  gym, track, volleyball, this school had it all besides English, History, Geography, Math, and the teachers were the wonders of the best lifetime education a kid could receive.  

Back when.....

I was a child of age 3 through 19 living at home in the 40's and 50's and still remember the SAME washing machine in the basement for doing laundry. This flashback memory came to me due to my complaining about how difficult it is now to complete this chore at age 83. I need to shut up. Here's how it went as my recollection remains strong.

The dirty clothes and bedding were carried to the basement from the 2nd floor bathroom hamper in a wicker basket. If there were too many for the basket, some were bundled into a bedsheet. They were sorted into piles on the cellar floor - whites, colors, darks, linens. The EASY washer tub was uncovered, the three belled plunger apparatus was removed and the copper-lined tub was then filled with hot water. The water taps were attached to the concrete double sink tubs. A rubber hose brought water into the washer from the taps. The first load of whites or linens (bedding, tablecloths, towels) was put in the tub and the plunger was reattached to the center post. A switch was activated and the washing began. I don't know if it had a timer, but I think it did. I clearly remember the sound it made. "Cluck! Squish! Squash! Squish! Clunk! Squish!"

My mother used her own homemade lye soap that she shaved into flakes before switching over to Ivory Flakes or Duz Soap Powder in later years. When the washing ceased, the dripping wet clothes were put into the spinner tub mechanism on the side of the washer. They were spun with the water going down a tray into the right side concrete sink in front of the machine. When removed from the spinner they were then put into the left side of the double sink to wait for rinsing later, after all other loads were washed. All loads were usually washed in the same water which was hot at the start and then cooled down throughout the process, sometimes with more water added. After washing, the washer tub was drained and re-filled with clean water to rinse. The process started over again, except after being spun out, the large wicker basket was filled and carried up the cellar stairs and out the back door, down the driveway to finally reach the multiple tree-to-tree clotheslines in the backyard. This could be 4 or 5 trips! There were "special" long tree branch sticks with slotted ends kept nearby to be used as clothes poles which supported the lines when they were full and heavy. Of course a handy clothespin bag moved along the rope lines as items were pegged. In the winter months the laundry was hung on ropes strung around beam supports and fastened to the cellar wall and ceiling boards. We grew to be a family of six; seven when you counted Grandma who lived with us during the last years of her life.

All images below are from the internet

If you really think about it, the laundry process wasn't nearly finished. Our dining room table was used for folding and stacking. Our stairway to the upstairs was used for piles to be placed on the left side of several steps to be brought up and put in dressers or closets as necessary. If you went up, you brought a pile with you. Some things were sprinkled with water from a bottle with a sprinkler insert in the neck and then rolled up to rehydrate just enough for proper ironing.

In that home, the ironing board was in the kitchen in its own very special wall cabinet behind the table. The table had to be moved and the cupboard opened up with the board coming down into place! Can you visualize it? The image below is similar, showing how it looked when in use. 

Soooooo, I'm not complaining anymore because all we have to do is load two baskets into the back of the car, drive 5 miles to the laundromat, wash, dry (usually) fold, bring back home, unload from car and put away. Sometimes I can still hang on clothesline on sunny days. If you have never had the privilege of sleeping between sun dried sheets or worn clothing with the natural fresh air fragrances, you have really missed out. 

Now I wonder how the city and apartment dwelling folk in my young days got their laundry chores done! I KNOW it was more difficult before my time. This was hard enough for my mother and others back when... 

( Yes, I did have automatic washers and driers in my homes from 1955 to 1997. Laundry used to be one of my favorite homemaker chores! There is absolutely no room for any of those appliances in here. There are only two of us now and it isn't a major concern - yet.)