The Old Morris Chair

Does anyone out there remember the old Morris Chair?  The last time I visited my father before his death, he was sitting in his special chair, a Morris Chair.  The year was 1953, in the summer.  I was living in Maryland on the Delmarva Peninsula and had gone home to Kentucky to see my father.  He had suffered a stroke and I went to see if I could be of any help to my mother in caring for him.  He was 71 and had given up working at his job as a tax and bookkeeping service.  The night before he had stayed up to watch the coronation of Queen Elizabeth on television.

On the particular day I remember, he was sitting in his favorite chair, in his bedroom and he was using his right hand to lift his left hand.  His left arm and hand were resting on the wooden arm of the Morris chair.  He was attempting to make his left hand move and saying "Come on Lefty, come on".  Not much was known about strokes at that time, so no rehabilitation was ordered.  He lived for six months in that condition.  In the present time he may have been rehabilitated through any of several means.  As it was, he struggled with his inability to use his left side and eventually died from complications of  pneumonia around Thanksgiving of that year.

My father knew he could not continue to live like that and he had discussed it with my mother.  He told her he did not  want to die as "the children might need me".  With eight children, he dearly loved each one of us and began each day in prayer for every one  of us.  I suppose I associate my father with that Morris chair as it was his chair and we had it in our home for a long time.  I think it was the forerunner of the Lazy Boy of today.

This memory was pulled to the fore this morning when I was looking at the favorite chair of my late husband, a Lawson chair.  It was originally red leather and we probably bought it in the 1950's.  Now it is upholstered in a masculine pattern of blues and blacks and maroons which my son-in-law had selected around twenty years ago.  Because it was my husbands favorite chair, it has sentimental value for me, plus it is a comfortable chair for resting.

You may have a favorite chair now or one that you wish you still had.  I am in that category also.  We once bought a Lincoln chair and it may have been the forerunner of the Morris as it  looked similar but was set on a rocker base.  I had the audacity to undertake the task of reupholstering it myself with  no skills in that area.   It was covered with old red velvet and looking rather ratty. I was brave enough to try as we only paid $10 for it from an "antique" dealer.  I do not  believe for one minute that it had any value as an antique, but it had rockers and I wanted a rocker for the baby we expected.  Since we were on a limited budget it seemed like a good idea.  We did not keep the Lincoln chair however.  It was old and musty and somewhere along the way we gave it away or junked it.  It really had no sentimental value for me and that is why I did not feel compelled to keep it.

I think most men have a favorite chair in their homes, or it seems that they should have a place to relax after a day of work.  Archie Bunker had his and beware  anyone who sat in his chair.  For my father, he used his chair to sit while he read the evening newspaper.  That is almost a thing of the past.  So many people get their news via television or on line.  I think that favorite chair for most men is now where they sit to watch television in the evening.  It may be an unnamed symbol of authority. He who sits here has earned the right to enjoy this space and not be disturbed.

I had almost forgotten about the old Morris chair so I checked it out on Wikipedia and learned that it was originally a prototype of Ephraim Colman in rural Sussex but was marketed by William Morris company, as early as the 1880's.  The main feature of it was the reclining back which was hinged to be raised and lowered as desired.  I understand a type of Morris chair is still available for purchase.  All that I knew about it at the time was that it was Daddy's chair and if anyone was in it when he entered the room, they vacated it  immediately.  It was relinquished not out of fear, but out of respect for him.  He was always respectful of others and it was returned in kind. 

So, the old Morris chair has special memories and meaning for me, as it reminds me of the head of our family, my father.

The Thing About Family.......

Growing up in a family which celebrates Christmas and the values of that Christian family helps to keep you centered in your life.  I could compare it to the point on a child's toy - a spinning top.  The balance of the top is in the point on which it spins.  If that is toppled the top goes out of control, yet when it is  righted again, it continues spinning.   Our spiritual life keeps us spinning.  Since we are imperfect beings our balance sometimes wavers, but being embedded into our conscience, it rights itself and we regain our momentum to continue our ingrained spinning.

The strongest earthly source of energy to keep us spinning is  our family.  The stronger the family ties, the smoother the spinning, and the weaker the ties, the more likely it is that the energy runs out.  As the reader may surmise, I am an advocate for strong family ties.

Families begin with a vow of fidelity, a promise to love and stay together, no matter what forces may try to break the bond. If the people taking the vow understand what that means and  say it sincerely they are more likely to keep their vows and make a strong family.  It is this strong bond of family that is foremost in my mind today. Much has been written about what makes a family strong.  One thing that glues us together is tradition of gathering for special events, year after year, and Christmas is one of those events we celebrate.  Being alone on Christmas day after having years of being together as a family can be a very lonely time.  We have to relive the past times to keep from feeling alone by phone calls, or texts or emails or inviting someone into our homes to enjoy the warmth of friendship.

Happily, I had half of my family here to spend the night and then on Christmas day we enjoyed our time together with meals, games, gift giving and also with those phone calls to the ones celebrating elsewhere.  Families do grow and begin to include new family members as children marry and have their own families.  Families grow and change but our inner source of energy remains because we have been centered with special experiences which are unique to our family.

Each family has a different story to tell, some may be similar but at the core of our being is the love of the family that energizes us and keeps us spinning through life.  I hope your Christmas events included those happy times with family to keep you renewed and energized, if not, try to find someone to be your family and start building some memories to keep you centered through both happy and difficult times.

In the Aftermath

It seems reasonable to say that every American and most of the world has heard of the carnage of Sandy Hook.  No one who has knowledge of this unfathomable event can go unchanged.  Everyone can relate to it at some level.  We cannot imagine how those parents will continue to live out their lives after this horror has been inflicted upon them.

Some changes will come about as our conscience demands it.  To live in a free society we must come to terms with more controls to protect the general public.  Those who never do harm to others will have to accept new measures to assure that those who would do harm are hindered in their efforts.

Looking back to the years when I was in the classroom with six year children to guide, educate and supervise to keep safe, I remember the tactics used in our schools then.  Back in the 1950's no thought was given to major disruptions.  Our concerns centered on snow and icy roads, playground safety, transportation to and from schools, weather and supervising the washing of hands before eating.

In my first classroom we had no running water.  I was adamant about the children washing their hands before eating.  Most of the children brought their lunches in brown paper bags or they walked home for lunch.  Some of their homes were in sight of the school, which was on a mountain top.  Each day we had a ritual.  I had brought a round metal pan to school and a large pitcher.  I stood beside the pan and poured water over the little hands after they had soaped with a bar of ivory soap.  In a modern version of this procedure, I stood outside the bathroom and if I suspected little hands had not been washed I asked that they be lifted so I could smell for soap.  Sometimes a little boy who was suspect at the time would just turn and go back into the bathroom not waiting for me to check his hands.  He knew the procedure and what he had to do.

When I was in a school with an intercom system we would receive a coded message from the office if there was a need for it.  Our school was near a prison so we would occasionally have a prisoner on the loose.  If we were outdoors someone would come out to tell us to come in.  The most we had to fear was an irate parent who would storm in the building and head straight for the room of the intended target.  This coded message was for every teacher to step out into the hallway and just stand by his/her door.  This was a silent message that witnesses were all around and although I never saw an incident to prove the effectiveness of the method, it was said to work very well.

Later on, a sign was placed near the entrance stating that visitors must sign in at the school office.  I think much more stringent measures are already  at play in our schools.  Since I last had a classroom in 1991, our world has become much smaller with instant viewing of events around the globe.  We are much more informed and vigilant and less safe than we were thirty years ago.

During World War II, President Delano Roosevelt said that "All we have to fear is fear itself".  I am not so sure that will hold true for 2012.  It is all too real that there is much to fear today.  There are some real measures that we can take to reduce the possibility of danger, but in reality, we cannot be sure that we will be safe.  To over react to try to defend ourselves can have ugly consequences.  Unfortunately we have seen the consequences of this over reaction played out in this latest unspeakable tragedy.  No one wants to put it into words, but it is a true.

Expecting Chester

Things happen in life which are totally unexpected, but which are so appropriate at the time.  We were sitting around our dining table, eight of our family including two guests, enjoying our Thanksgiving dinner.  The subject of cats came up and my son made the astonishing statement that "when cats look at humans they do not see a human face, rather a cat image".  This was hotly challenged by all at the table, but he did not back down as no one had proof either way.

When I announced that I was looking for a guard cat to keep the squirrels away from my plants, I set off a series of plans which ensured that I would indeed be the recipient of a manly, no nonsense one eared cat which had earned the reputation of  school yard bully.  His owner proclaimed he could protect my place from cats, dogs, deer and any other approaching animal.

That was exactly what I was looking for.  I want a pet that can stay outside, find his own food and stave off marauding woods critters, which I now have in abundance.  I can only imagine I will need to entice him with some treats and tidbits not found on the run, but that, I am willing to do.

In the back of my mind I wondered if there were any red flags fluttering about in our conversation, especially when his owner said "I'd pay someone to take him."  But when you are blinded by desire you do not see those streaks of red.  All I could feel was the hot heat of anger from the squirrels eating all of the fat buds on my Christmas Sasanqua on the west side of my house.  The county extension service agent confirmed that squirrels indeed will eat the  buds off  winter blooming Sasanqua.  I needed to act quickly before they discover the fat buds on my red Camellia on the  east side of my house.  I could not  bear it if I could not see those beauties next month when nothing else was blooming here.

So, I feel a new era is upon me, in the reign of Chester, long awaited savior.

Where I Want to Be

Where Life Goes On

 

 

Exactly where I want to be, in the shelter of the house

I helped build

Built to let the light stream in, through windows wide and tall

To warm the earthen tile

Laid where the pattern yields angles and lines,

North, south, east and west

Where high stone walls

Climb up to meet the ceiling,

Easy steps curve gently to the upper room.

A balcony invites resting on the long, long, couch

A house with many places to stop and look and think

To lose oneself in silent thought and resist the urge to move

Just rest, reflect on how it was

The last time you were here

Study the paintings on the wall

Paintings done so long ago

Of people, flowers, birds and things that lived in the artists soul

Leave me here that I may be forever in this favored place

Where life goes on if only in my mind

 

 

Fall Feelings and Family Fellows

Fall Feelings and Family Fellows

 

Before the sun was up, I was

Sleep had flown away

Ideas filled my head while I in bed still lay

Of food like pumpkin pie and stuffing and such

Thoughts came and left in frantic rush

Of peach scent wafting through the air

Yellow, dancing mesmerizing flames

Dominating the scene with fire like games

While folks gathered together for the ritual of fall

It is Thanksgiving after all

A time to go back to grandmother’s house

To greet and meet and laugh and talk

And perhaps to take a woods path walk

Gather some colorful found leaves along the way

To grace our table for the day

We miss those no longer here

We may even shed a tear

Remembering those days gone by

We never lose them you know

For in our hearts they live and grow

While we are making ones anew to

Carry forward to future times that bind us

Forever to each other

To live again, another day when future families

Come this way

Autumn's Waning Gift

One of the pleasures of gardening is
harvesting the fruits of your labor.  On this cold cloudy day, after being up late to witness an historic event, the election of President Obama's second term of office, I went outside to gather what I could find in my slowly vanishing garden flowers.  The picture shows what is left of the Cosmos,  Stone Mt. daisies, Chrysanthemum pacificum, pink Rose, Lantana, Zinnias, Ageratum, wild honeysuckle and the blooms of a confused Azalea.

It won't be long before I will have an abundance of
red Camellias, and Christmas Sasanquas.  They will actually begin to bloom in December.  You may be sure that I will be clipping some of those blooms to bring inside also.

One plant which is turning a beautiful salmon color is the Mapleleaf Viburnum, I did not  want to cut, as I am giving  tender loving care the first winter for this new undergrowth tree.

I do not consider it cheating to bring in the wild honeysuckle along with my cultivated flowers.  This vine has been pleasing me since I was a small child in the mountains of eastern Kentucky.  We learned that we could not only enjoy its sweet scent, but also sip the nectar inside the bloom, much the same way the bees and butterflies helped themselves to it as part of their diet.

If you are living in a temperate zone, I challenge you to take a walk around with your clippers and see what you can find to bring indoors for an impromptu bouquet.  It might just lift your spirits on a cloudy day.