Old Navy Proverb

My second husband had been a Navy pilot in World War II. A bit of wisdom that he brought with him from his Navy days was an expression that no doubt was impressed upon the young flyer's during that time. It was, "plan your work and work your plan". My daughter and I applied that adage to a project we collaborated on this past week-end.

I wanted to commemorate my second grandson's graduation from high school and his entry into college by presenting him with a quilt. My daughter has a talent for color and design and has made many beautiful quilts. When I approached her with the idea she just took it and her mind went to work. We conferred via email on various ideas and also consulted him as to favorite colors, etc. As we had some thoughts from him as well as ideas from her, it all began to take form. She presented me with her idea of how to use blue and stripes as he said those two were appealing to him.

Then she had to get some time off from her work so she talked to the three lawyers she works for and they all agreed on two successive days, a Thursday and Friday. Those two days were last week. Adding on Saturday and Sunday we had four whole days to devote to this project. Setting all other things aside we committed to this time and on the appointed day she appeared at my house loaded with boxes of cut pieces , sewing machine, additional cloth and other necessities of life.

We got right to work, sewing and cutting additional pieces needed for the pattern. As each long piece was sewn together we placed it on the bed and went on to the next one, then some adjustments had to be made as to how they would be placed pleasingly along side each other. It would not look good to have two of the same patterns too close together. Once that was established I did the ironing and made sure all of the seams were pressed in the same direction. Next came the borders for each long piece, after they were sewn on, the outside border was added. In the final analysis we had a fine, extra long quilt, which looked masculine and pleasing to the eye.

Not one to stop with the ordinary, my daughter, always thinking outside of the box came up with the idea of putting some of the design on the backing of the quilt. After trying out several backing materials we could not feel satisfied with any one piece of cloth. So, off we went to the fabric store. Wandering through all of the fabrics I came upon a bolt of backing material 120 inches wide and a beautiful red cotton. I called to her to come and look at this find. She held her fabric samples up to this and out came her favorite descriptive word for something that "works". She said "that makes it POP doesn't it?". And indeed it did. We had been thinking of something in blue and did a complete turn around with the red.

Getting back home and to work, at her direction I helped sew some different sized blocks to go on the red backing. They were just a suggestion of what was on the front but when she had finished the back could be the front it was so beautiful. Feeling very satisfied with our creative endeavor we carefully folded the front and then the back of this reversible quilt. The final sandwiching of the quilt will take place when our machine quilter has it in her hands. She has agreed to do this and when we can make another plan to take it to her we can say we have made our reversible quilt.

So, we planned our work and then we worked our plan. Actually, we worked it better than we had originally planned. My daughter who always thinks outside of the box took the plans to a higher level with the reversible back. I think her nephew, my grandson, will be pleased to own a reversible quilt made by two women who love him and have watched him grow into a responsible, creative young man in his own right.

Debts

The year was around 1956. The setting; my sister and I both had married and were living in separate parts of the country and both had one daughter. The daughters were a few months apart in age, my sister and I were a few years apart in age. The occasion; my husband had to be in Lansing, Michigan for one week. The event; my sister lived in Toledo, Ohio my husband took my daughter and me with him on this trip. He left us with my sister as he went on to complete his business in Lansing.

It had been a long drive as we lived on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. My memories of that trip are vague. Looking back I believe I was in a depressed state of mind as I slept most of the time. My sister gave me the front upstairs bedroom with windows looking out onto the street below. She took my daughter under her wing and me also. I had lost weight and before I went back to Maryland I had gained five pounds from her pampering. She lovingly fed us, cared for us and infused life and hope back into me.

I think my husband had taken us on this trip as he knew I needed to be with family. The family in which I grew up had always been supportive and loving. Living so far from those who love and care for you, no doubt was the basis for my depression. I do recall that before that year was out and I was back in Maryland, I did go through a period of not being able to eat, of actually gagging when I tried to swallow food. I spent a lot of time crying. I remember sitting on the side of the bed, my husband sitting beside me with his arms around me as I sobbed. Inside I was crying out "help me", but the words would not come out.

No doubt my husband had consulted our neighbor who had a doctor and I found myself in his office trying to answer his question "what is wrong". My reply was "nothing is wrong" and I sincerely did not know of anything that was wrong. He said he could not help me if I did not tell him what was wrong. We were at a stalemate as I had no answer. So, he prescribed "a pill" to be taken each day.

After about three days I was standing at the sink washing dishes and something went off in my head like a light bulb. And it suddenly dawned on me what was wrong !!

We were living a long way from my home where most of my siblings and my parents still lived. I had never known separation from them until this time. Phone calls were a rare thing then and visits even more rare. Opening up to friends to discuss decisions was foreign to me and counseling was not as common as it is now in 2010. I was struggling to cope without close companionship, except for my husband. Something deep inside of me caused me to think I should be able to rely on my own resources without any outside help and come up with perfect answers. I had relied upon my family for emotional support and now it was not there.

A week with my sister was certainly a step in the right direction. I owe her a big debt for supplying that need at that time. Also the neighbor who was there to give some guidance is due a heartfelt thank you. The doctor who prescribed "the pill" and set me on a path of recovery was another critical player in this story. Having a supportive husband who was willing to walk over hot coals with me was ultimately key to getting me back on track. To them all I am in debt and can only repay it by passing it on, without judgement or criticism to whomever is in need and falls within my sphere of influence. It is a big order, I give it my best try.

January 2010

My email buddy up in the northern clime, who is also the other living grandmother in my family, has a keen sense of humor and a zest for life. She sent me an email today which says it all. It was labeled as a short poem. It is.
Crap, it's cold.
the end
We have not had this much cold weather for 25 years, or so the weather prognosticators tells us.
I believe them, for about 25 years ago my husband had a doberman pincher which he kept up at the lake as he was planning for our home to be built there. That winter he came up to check on the dog and things in general. He came home in a very somber mood. He discovered that the doberman had given birth to a litter of puppies. The mother was fine but her puppies had all frozen. She had a dog house, but the extreme weather was just too much for her babies. I do not know how it could have been avoided but surely there was a way.

I believe that was the same winter that I spent a week at home because of the ice that kept me and my students from attending school. I spent part of the time making games, etc. for my classroom. Most of the time was spent close by up at the North Decatur Presbyterian church because they had electricity and we did not. I became better acquainted with some of the members there, as we passed the time playing bridge. I recall that everyone who was out of electricity took food from their refrigerators up to the church. We combined our food and cooked our suppers there. One of those good friends I still see occasionally. She and her husband came by to visit with me the day after this past Christmas.

My son-in-law, who is no wimp, told me he went shopping and bought long johns, a special cap with ear flaps and warmer gloves. This for when he took his two dogs out walking (and also his neighbors dog as the man had broken his ankle).

His idea inspired me to go shopping for additional warm under clothing. Since they always shrink after some washings I purchased the male version so they would be nice and loose after shrinking. One year I had a pair of bright pink under pants which I wore on Sundays, not that they were exposed for public viewing but they were cut off above the knees and would be hidden under a skirt. They served me well for several winters.

Most all of the folks in this area had some kind of problem related to the freezing temperatures, if not in their homes, then in their cars. I was spared car trouble as I had the 15,000 mile check up just the other day but the propane tank here ran out of gas. I was not the only one who was calling the provider for help. They were deluged with phone calls. In my defense the provider was supposed to automatically fill this tank, but did not. However it gave me an excuse to be a bit of a pioneer and do some things I had not done before, like turn on the valve at the tank after it was filled again. Also to fire up the pilot light on the gas logs, not a difficult task once I moved all of the logs out of the way in order to see the thermocouple.

My hair dresser had no hot water when I got to her shop today. She had to go next door to the gas station and borrow jugs of warm water. While I was there they discovered the problem. Water pipes were frozen outside so a heater had to be pulled under the building.

We all may feel a bit like pioneers from our collective experiences, but really thankful to have survived thus far. Some families have experienced tragedies from this most unusual cold weather pattern. So, when I snuggle up under my electric blanket, in my new long johns, I will sleep protected and happy with the knowledge that spring must follow all of this.

Rules, Part 1

Applying rules to living can save a lot of time, trouble and heartache. The rules I apply to my living are rooted in the Judo-Christian faith. They come easy to me as I learned them from the knee of my mother and the patience of my father. When there are six children before you and one after you, you are planted in place number seven. You have the older ones to lead you and the younger to grow up along side of you.

When you fall asleep in worship with your head on your mother's lap and drift off with the sweet scent of ivory flakes in the air it gives you a sense of cleanliness and sweetness. When you are praised for going to the pump outside and drawing water for your sick brother, it gives you a sense of being worthy of your place as number seven.

I cannot imagine what it would be like to grow up in a family where contention rules the day, and the night. So, I was blessed to be in this family and in this time in history. I was too young to remember the great depression of the twenties and early thirties. I only learned that I had lived through it much later. I do remember parents who worked hard and loved much.

My father worked six days a week in an office in the southeastern mountains of Kentucky. He was a frail, tall thin man with dignified carriage and presence. Never to enjoy robust health, I never heard him complain about his limitations regarding health issues. I did hear him rail against corruption and small mindedness. What he lacked in strength of body my mother made up for in steady good health. She was never confined to a hospital until six months before her death when she experienced a heart attack. Recovering from that she died six months later during the night in her sleep after an evening with her family. She had fairly danced across the floor in a new red dress that one of her daughters had made for her. She was eighty two years old and slowed down a bit due to inoperable cataracts.

Getting back to rules, we had them of course. Otherwise how could a family of ten mesh smoothly and cooperatively. There were plenty of bumps along the way. One rule I learned the hard way. When you return home from worship you remove your Sunday shoes when you first get home. New shoes for a five year old were a big temptation. Dancing along the pathway in shiny new shoes is just a natural thing to do, or so I thought. When I felt the sting of a switch on my legs I learned a valuable lesson. Obey your mother. To this day I remove my shoes when I return from worship. New shoes were not easily come by in the year 1931 and were meant to be tended carefully.

There were plenty of opportunities for play in those years in spite of lean financial situations. In the dead of winter a new tricycle at Christmas can be ridden all about the house with one's younger brother. And if no indoor transportation were available, a row of chairs make a very satisfactory train for make believe travel. On other days when it is very, very cold it can be quite entertaining to write on the frosty windows from the inside-with your fingers ! Apparently there were no rules for that sort of thing. Rules mostly applied to behavior and interacting with others both your peers and adults.

There were many ways to help pass the time in my early childhood of learning rules. Helping out with chores in my family, even for a young child was mandatory. I well remember how itchy my hands became when it was my job to cut okra from the garden. And oh, the excitement of running from the barn to the house to find my mother and tell her that my father needed the bill book. Since he had a hobby of keeping milk cows and selling milk he had to write bills. Being his helper was a great honor.

Having cows around in the fields could be a problem, as I learned one day. My older siblings had a tennis court out near a pasture where the cows were kept. I had been out to watch the players and on my way back to the house I was ambling along unaware that Mickey, a cow with horns and a dislike for children came bearing down on me. My oldest brother however, had been keeping an eye out for me and he dashed out and used his tennis racket to render a hefty swing onto the rump of Mickey. had he not noticed, I am not sure what would have happened, but I do not think it would have been pleasant. Looking out for the younger ones was expected of the older children when when they were at play.

Sometimes sad and regrettable things can occur when you have animals around. One of my brothers was not at all happy with a rule for him which was to milk the cows on Sunday morning before departing to church. He had acquired a little puppy which was in a playful mood on that fateful day. The puppy was running and nipping at my brother's heels. My brother, not being in a playful mood lifted his boot to scoot the puppy away. At that point the puppy just dropped over dead. Acting in anger can have tragic results and can be a hard lesson to learn.

Living in the country with neighbors all along the road we were allowed to go rather freely to our neighbors to visit. My favorite thing was to visit a lady who had a wood burning stove and she had fresh sweet butter (possibly from my father's dairy). She would butter a slice of white bread and put it in the over to toast. Oh, what a wonderful treat. I named this treat "milky way" as it was so delicious.

Another neighbor who was a friend of all of us was an extremely tall, thin man who was nick named "high pockets". I suppose he did not mind for we were never told not to refer to him by this name.

Having free range in this rural mountainous area had many benefits. We could go about freely in the woods and play or explore. Playing could be pretending to be Tarzan and swinging on large wild grape vines. Natural wonders were to be seen in the woods too. Once I stumbled upon a rabbit's nest and saw the tiny hairless rabbits with their eyes still closed. I squatted down and watched in wonder as they slept and wiggled about in their nest of leaves. I instinctively knew not to disturb them so I left them as I saw them for their mother to return and care for them.

Many years later I was privileged to observe a similar scene. In summer here I keep my front south windows covered with honeycomb blinds. It keeps the house cooler on hot summer days. One day I raised them a bit and left them there not realizing a mother rabbit had her nest there under the branches of a cottoneaster shrub. Later when I returned I witnessed her standing over the nest while the babies nursed. That was as priceless as the time I saw younger babies when I was only five or six years old in the mountains of Kentucky.

At another time I hope to share some of my experiences with rules for living.

Unexpected Pleasures

My daughter and I are plotting to make a quilt for my middle grandson, her nephew, who will be going off to college in the fall of 2010. We have conferred with him and her creative juices are bubbling away. She has an eye for design and color which I could never realize for myself. We were both thinking along the same design lines to make a quilt similar to the one she gave me two Christmases ago.



This got me remembering when she gave me this eye popping lap quilt. I was bowled over with the beauty and design. It was a real "WOW" surprise, something I had not expected. That line of thinking took me down memory lane to other occasions when I was taken aback with delight !



When as a teacher I entered the "Teachers Fair" representing my school, I was so naive I did not know it was competitive until I got there and was all set up and judges came around. I thought I was just sharing some teaching techniques with other teachers. So, when my name was called as winner I did not realize there was even a prize. I was more like stunned and then the pleasure set in. In my defense this was the first Teachers Fair for our county.



About twenty years ago on Mothers Day my son and son-in-law came up to the lake house with a load of cross ties, chain saws and plenty of energy ! They set about building steps up a hill which before had been a dog trot. When the day was over they had created a most enchanting pathway up the hill. It still delights me when I enter the property, come down the gravel road and the hillside comes into view. It looks so charming and inviting. It is one of those things which left me with one giant warm fuzzy !!!



A different sort of warm fuzzy came my way when I was in my early twenties. Acute appendicitis sent me into the local hospital for surgery. I had told my husband to not let my mother know about this until it was all over as I did not want to worry her needlessly. When I woke up in the hospital bed after the surgery I looked over and there sat my mother waiting for me to wake up. It was one big emotional joy ride for me and of course I began to cry and whimper at seeing her there. It still makes me tear up to think of it.



Last summer some of the posts in the second row of vines in my vineyard had fallen down and I had resolved to try to get them repaired. Before I could get around to it I was leaving the property to go into town and a new acquaintance had brought some helpers and they were working in the hot sun replacing posts and setting it all right again. There must have been twelve posts that they replaced. I had already told this gentleman that he could have all the grapes he wanted for his wine making project. I had no idea he would repay me by doing this work. It was six hours of hard work in the hot sun, and to be surprised after the fact was very gratifying.



My neighbors have surprised me with little things which were unexpected pleasures, like the bow hunter winding in my dock when he noticed it needed to be done. My neighbor across the way appeared with a large bag of figs which I was happy to receive as my tree had produced very little that summer.



My friend Bob who helped me around the place doing things I could never do myself, would often come up to my house with his right hand behind him and say " I have a little surprise for you". It was usually some edible treat like strawberries or an early tomato from his garden. He also came up with some creative ideas for ways to improve the appearance of the property. He is gone now but I still have some lovely creations he made with large flat rocks. Two are in the curve of the road and help to define the curve as well as protect my flower beds behind them.

In front of my house, and below the road, he made a long wall divided by steps made from huge flat rocks. Above the wall is now planted perennials which present themselves in due season and when they bloom are framed by Bob and natures handiwork, giving me pleasure over and over again.



One act of kindness which has enriched my life in more ways than I could ever tell, was being given a computer by my daughter and her husband. They just brought it up and got it all installed and began to educate me on using it. I can remember Al Gore talking about the information highway but I had no idea what he meant. Now I know and it has changed the way I live and even carry on business. When my son brought up a printer, installed it and showed me how to use it, I was able to expand my everyday use of the computer in so many ways. I do not know how people live who do not have a computer !! Just as I cannot imagine how my mother coped without being able to drive a car.



It is comforting to be able to relive these moments and enjoy the changes brought about by the many unexpected surprises which have threaded their way into my life. In Streetcar Named Desire, Blanche Dubois makes the comment, "I depend upon the kindness of strangers". In my life I can say I am enriched beyond measure by the kindness of family and friends.

Winding Down

Many surprises came my way this Christmas season. It started off with the arrival of a live Christmas tree with accompanying lights and birds for decoration. My daughter has sent three of these to me before and all three were planted out front and are thriving, not growing fast but are healthy and happy where they are planted. They are Alpine Spruce and have a conical shape with small needles and a nice " fragrance".





My next surprise was to go out my entrance and see that my mailbox had been decorated. I do not usually decorate it so I began to wonder who had done this. My neighbor had been seen walking down the road with greenery in her arms so the secret was out and I knew it was our new neighbor from California. I called her and indeed she was the Christmas elf . The call ended with an invitation to her home to have Christmas Eve dinner with her, her husband and visiting daughter. It proved to be a very interesting meal with foods I had not eaten before. They are steeped in Norwegian tradition and I got to see her amazing Santa collection gathered from all over the world. I had expected to be staying at home so that was a fun surprise.





Normally during Christmas season I have only one day with my family but this year we had two days, with a lot of games and laughing and good memory building. The visit I had not expected occurred the day after Christmas when two friends from my early days in Atlanta came by to see me . I had a tea pot which had been her aunt Martha's. My friend had let me take it home in 1978. I had always felt it should be with her as a memory of her aunt so on this day I gave it back to her to take home. I had enjoyed it all this time and at some point the lid had been cracked but it was a precious family treasure all the same.





Now that the visiting is over, things need to get back to normal, an adjustment in thinking has to take place. Some are going back to their jobs, others taking trips planned for during school break.
We get back to a normal routine pretty fast just by responding to the things going on around us, whether it is children, spouses, or every day events. The unwinding takes a few days and probably does not get us back on target until after we say good-bye to the old year and take up the new one. It will not be as easy to write 2010 on checks, etc., as it was to write 09 for 2009.



There will be seed catalogs coming in and income tax reminders and in my case still some bulbs to be planted. The new year will shake down and settle down and my Daphne will be blooming and greeting me with the most heavenly fragrance ever. The red Camellia is already starting to bloom and the new Yuletide sasanqua is settling into the new spot on the west side of my house. Before I know it the 100 daffodils I planted down near the foot bridge will pop up and make a glorious yellow mass to move and sway with the breezes. It all sounds so attractive to me that I am already eager to get into it all and try some new things for the spring and work my way into the summer. I need to plant a lot more cucumbers to use for the bread and butter pickles which has made a lot of friends for me. Christmas will soon be another fading memory but I hope I never forget the fun we had again this year.

Christmas Past

This Christmas Eve I was awakened by Christmas music on my radio. As I listened, I began to remember the events of this time in my own life and that of my parents and siblings.

My parents and especially my father wanted Christmas to be a happy time for their children. I think this stems from the fact that as they grew up their Christmas memories were not as they would have liked to remember. I do recall that as a child my father had wanted a little red wagon, and he never got it. Why, I am not sure. It may have been financial constraints in a large family or the fact that in the late 1800's the custom of gifting was not the main focus in families struggling to survive.

I recall special gifts at Christmas when a young child, as the time my brother and I both received tricycles and we rode them around inside the house. I believe we both had mumps at the same time as we had the tricycles. That was my earliest memory of gifts for me. I do not recall any talk or events surrounding "Santa Claus". It was simply a Christmas gift from our parents.

On a different Christmas my father had an oak doll bed made for me. It is one sturdy piece of furniture. I used it as a child and then my daughter used it when she was young. When her first child was expected I passed it on to her, but alas little boys do not care for doll beds. At this time the doll bed sits in my north bedroom awaiting some repairs on one of the legs. I could not pass it on to either of my three grandsons, so it is waiting for a great granddaughter to one day join the family.

On a different occasion my father had for me a gold necklace with a heart, anchor and cross attached to it. I have spoken of that before. Unfortunately I do not have all of it, only the tiny cross which rests in my jewelry box.

One Christmas my father surprised my mother with a new car. That one is a little strange as she did not drive !! On another Christmas -perhaps to make up for that time - he presented her with a beautiful cherry secretary. That was certainly more appropriate for her and she put it to good use. As far as I know it is still in the family perhaps with one of the grandchildren. I do know that my sister (the artist) at one point painted it yellow ! She liked to use color and even painted her maple bed a gray color. I know where that is as I sleep on it each night !

When I was very young I was given some money to spend for family members for gifts. I was limited to 10 cents per gift. The only gift I remember buying was monogrammed handkerchiefs for my father. I remember that as I really goofed up. Perhaps because we called him "DAD", I got handkerchiefs with a "D" monogrammed on them. Needless to say, my shopping was not supervised. My face is still red ! I had only heard him called Dad or Mr. Matthis as in my family my mother did not call him by his first name. She had other pet names for him. One was "Mister Blister". I don't know where that came from.

The thing I remember best is that when we were all older we celebrated Christmas as a family on Christmas Eve. That is when we had a huge meal and all of the extended family would be there and gifts were opened. Even if you had a date for that evening it had to wait until the main party was over. The reason for the celebration on the night before was so the grandchildren could be at home or with their other grandparents on Christmas Day. That custom is a natural progression as I see it happening today with other families.

Wherever you are and however you celebrate, in a large family or a small family, it is a special time so hold it close to your heart for it becomes a part of you forever.