Grandma

So . . . remember back in January or February when my 96 year old Grandma was in palliative care in the hospital?  She'd fallen, shattering her shoulder and breaking her arm and, while in the hospital, was found to be suffering from congestive heart failure, with her heart only being about 12% effective.  Or something like that.  The doctor gathered the family up there together and they had a meeting and she told them that she wasn't God, but . . . that Grandma had days or weeks as opposed to months or years.  Guess what.  Grandma got out of the hospital and went home back in March.  She's doing great, for 96.  She's walking around, taking care of herself and generally hanging out.  The doctor was right.  She wasn't God.  Grandma's still ready to go, but apparently it's not time yet.  I love having my Grandma around!

Grandma and Emma

This is my favorite photo of my granddaughter, Emma, and my Grandma. It was one of those fortunate serendipitous moments that I was lucky enough to catch. My Grandma is 96 1/2 and currently in palliative care in a hospital in Oregon. It's ok, though, because she's ready to die. She knows where she's going and she wants to be with my Grandpa and the rest of her loved ones. She's an amazing woman.

This photo was submitted to the I Heart Faces photo challenge – www.iheartfaces.com

So tired

I'm watching the boys for a week while Cherlyn's out of town. Tonight's the third night and I'm already exhausted. Part of that is because I'm sick . . . well, I'm sure most of it is because I'm sick. Much is happening, but, frankly, I can't think of anything to write. I'll feel a bit more inspired later. Might be after the new year. I love new beginnings, a clean slate.

I have photos to post as well. Later. Sleep now. Just some sleep.

Little Orphant Annie (The Goblins'll Get You If You Don't Watch Out!)

A poem my Grandma learned as a little girl, that she can still recite by memory. She's 96.

LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE

INSCRIBED
WITH ALL FAITH AND AFFECTION
To all the little children: - The happy ones; and sad ones;
The sober and the silent ones; the boisterous and glad ones;
The good ones - Yes, the good ones, too; and all the lovely
bad ones.



Little Orphant Annie's come to our house to stay,
An' wash the cups an' saucers up, an' brush the crumbs away,
An' shoo the chickens off the porch, an' dust the hearth, an'
sweep,
An' make the fire, an' bake the bread, an' earn her board-
an-keep;
An' all us other childern, when the supper-things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun,
A-listenin' to the witch-tales 'at Annie tells about,
An' the Gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!



Wunst they wuz a little boy wouldn't say his prayers, -
An' when he went to bed at night, away up-stairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an' his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An' when they turn't the kivvers down, he wuzn't there at
all!
An' they seeked him in the rafter-room, an' cubby-hole, an'
press,
An seeked him up the chimbly-flue, an' ever'-wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found wuz thist his pants an' roundabout: -
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

An' one time a little girl 'ud allus laugh an' grin,
An' make fun of ever' one, an' all her blood-an'-kin;
An' wunst, when they was "company," an' ole folks wuz there,
She mocked 'em an' shocked 'em, an' said she didn't care!
An' thist as she kicked her heels, an' turn't to run an'
hide,
They wuz two great big Black Things a-standin' by her side,
An' they snatched her through the ceilin' 'for she knowed
what she's about!
An' the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

An' little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,
An' the lamp-wick sputters, an' the wind goes woo-oo!
An' you hear the crickets quit, an' the moon is gray,
An' the lightnin'bugs in dew is all squenched away, -
You better mind yer parunts, an' yer teachurs fond an' dear,
An' cherish them 'at loves you, an' dry the orphant's tear,
An' he'p the pore an' needy ones 'at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns 'll git you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

I'm . . .

A Grandma again!! Hallie Rae was born on February 2 to my youngest and her husband. Photos to follow because things are busy because . . .

We're empty nesters again!! Middle daughter and granddaughter moved out at the same time resulting in my house being in a total state of chaos.

At some time in the future, things will be "normal" again. For now, I'm plodding along trying to organize, rearrange and not forget all those wonderful ideas that keep popping up and then disappearing before I can write them down. Yes, that will be one of my changes. Must get paper next to wherever I am.

Tuscan Room to Pink Room

Emma wants her room painted pink, "Just like Mama's." This creates a little bit of a conundrum because that was the "atelier" (studio/workshop) I set up for myself before they moved back home. I did a very cool Tuscan sort of paint treatment on two of the walls. Here's a serendipitous moment in that room that shows the wall color fairly well. I used orange, yellow, brown, and a coral-ly sort of red. I LOVE it so that means I'm reluctant to paint over it. It'd be another matter if we were getting ready to sell the house and move, but we're not.

So I think I've come up with a Plan B . . . and maybe even a C and D. My first thought was to get some pink sheets and put them up on the walls I don't want painted. My next thought was wrapping paper. Now I'm thinking maybe even pink contact paper. I don't want it to look cheesy and I don't want it to fall down tomorrow. Everything will have to be pinned or stapled or whatever. Wrapping paper still sounds pretty. I think Emma and I will go to Dollar Tree after I pick her up from school.

What else does she want? Flowers and faeries. That's MUCH easier. I just happen to have both in the form of Wallies.

Oops. Look at the time. Time to go get her!

Write, write, write

There are probably 10 boxes of all things Christmas sitting next to the door waiting for me to carry them downstairs. From there, I will drag them into the bathroom, pull down the "hidden" ladder and push and pull them into the "attic" (which is actually a large crawl space we made when we lowered the ceiling in there). Who needs 12 foot ceilings in a bathroom when there are things to be stored? Maybe tomorrow, after Mike wakes up and gets off to work, I'll put them all away. And maybe I'll wait until Sunday when his days off start.

It's been quiet, sometimes too quiet, with Cherlyn, Rob, Bobby and Michael gone, but I've been fortunate enough to be able to iChat with them while they're in South Carolina. Before you know it, they'll be off this continent and starting life in their new home in England. I'm envious!

I always love the beginning of a new year. It's a time to wipe the slate clean and start anew. This is the year of learning to love the empty nest. Katie and Emma moved out in August and India followed in December. There are two extra bedrooms now that I get to fix up. That will probably also be on the list for tomorrow.

And speaking of tomorrow . . . it's nearly here so I need to get to bed. More tomorrow. I'd like to see if I can re-design this wonderful "vehicle of writing." I also want to go through The Shack some more and maybe write some about that. There's also more furniture to be rearranged. And I don't want to forget the books I've just read in the past month. Life is good.

Be Ye Joyful

Aches and Pains and Growing OldER

I was reading one of my regular blogs (she's pretty much the only regular one outside of the family) this morning and her comments inspired me. I'm sitting here in my wonderful glider (NOT a rocking chair --heehee--) watching Go, Diego Go with Emma and learning all about Maine Wolves. It's only about the gazillionth time I've seen this episode. Anyway . . . BabsRN was talking about having some aches and pains this morning and I discovered I had more to say than would be welcomed (in my own opinion) on anyone's blog. Don't want to be a Blog Hog. (And since I've never heard that term before, we will assume I just made it up.) ANYWAY . . . (sheesh, you'd think I could keep my brain on track for five minutes, wouldn't you?)

I've discovered that this sweet little person with whom I share my home and my life helps me by keeping me young. How can you be old when you have a two and a half year old alone with you for eight or ten hours a day, five days a week. (A rescue pack, coming to the rescue, humm, humm, humm, we're singing.) So what do I do with her all day? Yesterday she discovered all of my belts. I got them all organized, sorted, rolled up and then put away in one of those hanging shoe organizers (the ones with all the pockets for pairs of shoes) and, after I was all done, she proceeded to pull out every single one. She played with them and looked them all over and then she draped every single one over her shoulders and walked around the house. When she got tired of doing that, she picked out one particular belt and kept handing one side to me saying, "Hold it, Grandma. Hold it," and then, "Hang on tight, Grandma. Hang on tight." That provided a LOT of entertainment for her. I tired of it quickly, but not her. In fact, she picked them up again this morning and picked up where she left off.

I don't know about any other grandparents (mostly because we're the only ones in our group of friends and in both families), but temper tantrums aren't the crisis that they were when our kids were Emma's age. Yesterday she was having one, complete with throwing herself to the ground and kicking and screaming, while I was on my computer. I waited for her to work it out and noticed that she got really quiet. I looked down at her and she was just laying there. She did that for about fifteen minutes and then she just fell asleep right where she lay. That was cool. I love naptime!

Do I still have aches and pains associated with being older (NOT old!)? Of course I do. They're just lessened now by the joy of Emma.

Afterthought: How come all the humans on Sesame Street look so different now than they did when my kids were watching it? It hasn't been THAT long . . . has it?

Growing oldER is not so bad. Growing OLD, I imagine, sucks. Gotta make sure I try not to do that. OldER, ok. OLD, not so ok.

Okinawa!

It is official! We're going to see Cherlyn (our eldest), Rob (her husband) and Bobby (their son; OUR GRANDSON!) in mid-October! I can hardly wait!



They live on the island of Okinawa, a prefecture of Japan.


More photos later!

Happy Birthdays

I'm a couple of days late but things have been rather hectic around here. 24 years (and 2 days) the most wonderful little bundle of joy burst into our lives in the form of our eldest daughter, Cherlyn. The ride's been bumpy and smooth and never a dull moment. I thank God for you every day.










You're a blessing to me and I'm thankful for you.










And I can't give you your birthday blessings without giving Bobby his! Happy Birthday, dearest little grandson! I look forward to the days when you will all live closer to us so we can actually see each other more than once or twice a year. I love you.

26 Marbles and a Horse

Did you know that you could put 26 marbles and a small plastic horse into a DVD/VCR, then remove said items and the machine will still work? Of course, you have to be sure that you remove the 26th marble and the horse before it will work as it is designed. Just removing 25 marbles whilst leaving the 26th marble and the horse will only cause the DVD player to make horrendous noises and lots of sputtering on the screen.

Ah, it's good to have Emma home. :o)

Quiet in the house

It's quiet here. It's a bag of mixed blessings. On the one hand, I like having time to myself to do those things I've been trying to get done for so long. My room is getting put together and I pretty much know where everything is. The gigantic oak desk is out of there, waiting for a den. I got my dresser all cleaned off last night and pictures are back up on the walls where they belong. Well, most of them are. I still have some of my own photographs I need to print out and put into frames and then find homes for them. My computer's become used to being down there and I like not having it in the living room. Grandma's black buffet/desk is finally cleaned out and put in some semblance of order. I've condensed us out of 3 desks now and most everything is in the black desk. Upstairs, the TV isn't housed in the entertainment center any more. We're going to donate that to the PD or to the hospital thrift store. I'm using the antique Korean chest to house the TV and all its' accouterments. It's nice paring things down.

On the other hand, it's very quiet. I miss Emma. She'll be back tomorrow, though, so I will enjoy this brief respite. Like I said, it's a bag of mixed blessings. Katie is camping with "friends" and Emma is with her. When I commented to Mike's dad some weeks ago how difficult it will be when Emma no longer lives with us and how quiet it will be here, he said, "But you'll get used to it. And that's how it's supposed to be." He's right, of course. Little ones are meant to be raised by their parents. I just pray that the circumstances at that time will be much better than they are now. I would love nothing better than for Katie and Emma to be on their own, Katie with a good job, Emma with either us watching her or someone else just as good (is that possible?), happy, content, doing what is Right.

It struck me this morning how I wish that our church-going wasn't "broken." I know that it was right for us to leave the old church and go to the new one when we did . . . and then to switch back when we found that the new one wasn't home. I just wish that the timing had been better. It caused a disruption for the kids. They never fit in with the new one and when we went back to the old one, too many years had passed for them to feel part of it again. It's so much easier when they're younger and they go with you because you go. I know (mostly) it will all turn out OK. They've all been raised with the foundation intact. It's just up to them now to take it up themselves. Seeing hardness of heart is distressing in anyone.

I haven't been to the old church in months. That one is not the right place for us. I always hated the "praise songs" and thought they were insipid and they weren't into using the old hymns. I wish Father Bruce hadn't left the Catholic church. I think we might have liked that. Mike's new rdo's include Sunday now (that's a first!) so I'm thinking maybe I'll see if he wants to go to the monastery and see what he thinks. It will be very different for him. The Eastern Catholic service (especially for one raised in Protestantism) is awesome in the truest sense. It's close to the Eastern Orthodox church and that's what I like. I've never been to a service where I truly felt like I was worshipping in the presence of God as I did there. I hope Mike wants to go.

Here's my favorite hymn . . . well, one of my favorites:

IT IS WELL WITH MY SOUL

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blessed assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.


- Words by Horatio G. Spafford, 1873
- Music by Philip P. Bliss, 1876

The words to this hymn was written after two major traumas in Spafford's life. The first was the Great Chicago Fire of October 1871, which ruined him financially. Shortly after, while crossing the Atlantic, all four of Spafford's daughters died in a collision with another ship. Spafford's wife Anna survived and sent him the now famous telegram: "SAVED ALONE." Several weeks later, as Spafford's own ship passed near the spot where his daughters died, he was inspired to write these words.

Bliss originally named the tune "Ville de Havre" after the ship on which Spafford's four girls perished, the SS Ville de Havre. Ironically, Bliss himself died in a tragic train wreck shortly after writing this music.

My day so far

I liked Jon's most recent post about his trip to Seattle. Let's see what my day today would look like . . .

7:00 got up quietly so I didn't wake anyone else because it's the only time when NO ONE else is up to ask me to do something for them. check.
7:10 go let the chickens out of their coop. check.
7:12 look at the fence again and wonder what animal keeps pulling it down. check.
7:15 fill the chickens water can. check.
7:20 water the flowers and plants in the upper garden. check.
7:30 water the flowers by the rock wall, paying close attention to the scattered sunflower seeds I'm hoping will sprout and grow up to be a beautiful sunflower border next to the rock wall, but know chances are slim because of the damn deer. check.
7:35 fill up pond number one and marvel that there are still fish alive. water that bed and again get ticked off because the damn deer ate most of the morning glories and nasturtiums and the ones left are doing nothing. check.
7:40 move to the plants in front of our room and water them. check.
7:45 fill pond #2 and try to get the pump unclogged. check.
7:50 water front beds. check.
7:52 water front cecile brunner and see that it's getting some leaves back from when the damn deer stripped it to the bones. check.
7:55 water front planters, hoping that the seeds scattered there will come up, but not holding my breath because the damn deer already decimated the violets. water moss in back yard and aerate back pond, count 3 fish. check.
8:00 top off pond #3, finish watering, pull hose back up to front garden, check out fence again, shake dirt off muddy pajama pants and go inside. check.
8:10 turn on Little Einsteins for Emma and sit with her while she bemoans her owie, check out said owie and marvel at giant blister that's formed on top of the giant swollen lump on her arm. check.
8:30 start eggs for Emma and I. check.
8:45 check out news online, peruse a couple of blogs, sing with Little Einsteins, check on eggs, remind Katie of stuff to be picked up, change Emma, check on eggs and turn down burner, add more eggs so they're not so well done, add ham and portabellas. check.
8:50 Mike calling me to look at big bucks in the garden. take pictures of two big bucks 20 feet away from me. sight a third one. check.
9:00 eat eggs. give eggs to Emma who promptly ignores them. hold Emma. turn on Wonder Pets and sing with them. check.
9:30 switch to Go Diego Go and learn about kinkajus in the rain forest. check.
10:00 switch to Backyardigans and ride the range. more singing. check.
10:20 Emma tired of Backyardigans and wants to watch trains so put on Thomas. Emma starts to nibble at eggs. straighten up around the house. check.
11:00 dress Emma. she's tired of Thomas so find the fish dvd and take it downstairs to put it on so I can take a shower. check.
11:30 name all the sea creatures with Emma. check.
12:00 Mike in the shower and getting ready for work. give Emma numerous necklaces to play with. check.
12:30 Emma pulls apart puka shell necklace. check.
12:45 Mike leaves for work. check.
1:00 straighten up more, watch fish, watch Thomas. check.
1:30 put Emma down for nap and lay with her til she falls asleep. check
1:50 Emma asleep. play on computer and then make plans to clean up and catch up on correspondence.
2:15 not started correspondence yet because I've been wasting my time recapping my oh-so-nothing-is-happening day. vow to get correspondence done TODAY. check.

Seasons of Parenting

I am an incredibly fortunate person. Here I am in the season of life where I figured I would be just puttering around the house doing my own little projects, taking some art classes, working in the garden, etc. and, instead of all of that, I am blessed with the opportunity to be a day to day, major influence in a little person's life. I have the incredible opportunity to help this little one grow into a thinking, feeling, acting blessing in other peoples' lives. I thought that my major influence on a child ended when my kids were old enough to start thinking on their own. Who knew I would be blessed with being able to share even more with someone else. I think one of the greatest things about this is the fact that I feel much more prepared and equipped to "parent" a child (even though I am NOT the child's parent) than I did in my younger years. I have more patience and I have the wonderful gift of hindsight, which is enabling me to skip over those negative qualities I inflicted on my own kids. Not only do I get the opportunity to help this child, she, in turn, is giving me the gift of youth, something I wouldn't normally have at this season in life. How can anyone be old and stodgy with a 2 year old running around. With a 2 year old you can crawl around on the floor and be silly and giggle. I get to color with crayons, finger paint, make handprints in plaster of paris, build things with legos, and crawl into a "house" made from a washing machine box. I get to chase her around on my hands and knees and make her laugh and scream with delight. In the meantime, she's making ME laugh and scream with delight. People tell me what a wonderful thing it is I'm/we're doing. I ask them, "What else would I do?" I am truly blessed.

Breezes and Fleeting Thoughts

I've come to the conclusion that I have a lot to say, yet when I have the opportunity to really think about, and put into words, what I want to say, those thoughts fade away like breezes in a garden on a summer's day. This is probably because the majority of my time is spent with my almost-2 year old granddaughter, Emma. If you have any idea what it's like to spend the majority of your time with a 2 year old, then you will know how it is that your time isn't really your own. And since she is once again clamoring to sit on my lap, demanding my attention, I must once again pause . . . maybe I'll have time later.