An unseasonably warm winter has made for a great morning walks to the water where we can toss rocks into the Sound and enjoy some breakfasty goodness.
Did you know that EVERYTHING tastes better when dunked in syrup.
Monday, January 30, 2012
weekend breakfast
An unseasonably warm winter has made for a great morning walks to the water where we can toss rocks into the Sound and enjoy some breakfasty goodness.
Did you know that EVERYTHING tastes better when dunked in syrup.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
wisdom
Our dear friend the Rabbi will reply to the question:
"How are you?"
with
"I am only as happy as my least happy child."
This is a deep truth.
It could explain our dizzying joy.
Ferris has landed a job.
A good job.
No longer will he be pouring cocktails at night and slogging around A/C duct work during the day.
Rather he'll sport a suit, and get on a train, and get off at Wall Street.
"How are you?"
with
"I am only as happy as my least happy child."
This is a deep truth.
It could explain our dizzying joy.
Ferris has landed a job.
A good job.
No longer will he be pouring cocktails at night and slogging around A/C duct work during the day.
Rather he'll sport a suit, and get on a train, and get off at Wall Street.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
weese's political stance
I will vote for anyone who immediately bans the use of, possession of,
or even knowledge of ...packing peanuts.
There should also be strict punishments for violators or those who unlawfully harbor such vile materials.
Like serious punishment... not spa time at the penitentiary with three squares and cable tv.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
expecting...
grammy-weese and nana are very excited to announce the gestational beginnings of their very first grandchild.
I cannot keep my delighted wife (aka nana) still. She has already refinished two rocking chairs, is hemming maternity pants and oh...has changed her career status to 'semi-retired'.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
'tis the season
I have several posts swimming around in my head - but no time to write.
So its getting crowded up there...hmm, I think they make a pill for that.
The holidays are upon us folks.
Please fill your hearts with joy and your homes with cookies (must remember to blog about my new diet plan).
This time of year can bring tremendous stress as we try to do everything right and to please others. Remember to take a moment each day - be completely in that moment. You may find that in each moment taken upon itself its not all that stressful. You may find a small slice of peace. Of joyful peace.
And by being joyful - you create joy around you. Its like a big joy bubble. Others will feel this joy. And its quite possible they too will also become joyful. If not..remember there is always Spiced Rum.
Happy Holidays - from weese and her festive wife
oh yeah...and the Free dog.
So its getting crowded up there...hmm, I think they make a pill for that.
The holidays are upon us folks.
Please fill your hearts with joy and your homes with cookies (must remember to blog about my new diet plan).
This time of year can bring tremendous stress as we try to do everything right and to please others. Remember to take a moment each day - be completely in that moment. You may find that in each moment taken upon itself its not all that stressful. You may find a small slice of peace. Of joyful peace.
And by being joyful - you create joy around you. Its like a big joy bubble. Others will feel this joy. And its quite possible they too will also become joyful. If not..remember there is always Spiced Rum.
Happy Holidays - from weese and her festive wife
oh yeah...and the Free dog.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Bubba
It's not his name, tho honestly I can't remember how I came to start calling him that. But for so many years now he's been Bubba to me.
Bubba is my brother.
My older brother.
So close in age, it always surprises me that our earliest memories don't seem to match. The result of a brother and sister's individual interpretations of their childhoods I suppose... or at least I hope. We joke about been raised by different families.
Bubba and I were not really close as kids. We were very different with different friends and interests. Tho we were not combative either. We argued rarely and were never rough with each other.
In high school, only 1 year apart, our paths grew even farther from each other. I was popular and on the wild side (ok - far to that side). He was quiet and kept to himself a bit. I was considered the smart one - but really more clever than smart. Mom gave him a hard time about his grades and his unkempt room and all sorts of other nonsense.
When it came time for college we were both expected to attend the private university where our father had been a well respected professor. We had free rides and free reign with a great head start from faculty who still remembered our father fondly over a dozen years after his death.
Bubba went off to school first - but it didn't click for him. His poor high school grades confirmed by his failure to thrive at college.
A year later I left for the same school, leaving Bubba behind living at home.
But Bubba was anything but dumb. With no education he landed himself a job as a case worker. He literally talked himself into a career, a field he works in to this day. Like his father, he is well respected in his work, and liked by his coworkers for his amiable attitude and great sense of humor.
At some point during his adult life Bubba came to realize his earlier difficulties were caused by dyslexia. Finally an answer to what hindered him from being able to muddle his way through reading and writing and learning all those years. Not even he understood why it was just so hard for him. So hard for him to learn and prepare and present - so hard for him, while I skated through barely even going to class and bringing excellent grades home. Even as a young person I realized how frustrating that must have been for him.
But like a blind person might - he learned to compensate. He honed a perfect memory. He absorbed like a sponge. If he heard it once, not only could he remember it and understand it but he could connect and expand on several things based on relation information - pulling it all together. He was like a walking encyclopedia, or perhaps more accurately - a database, and he loved to talk and share. Please note, that as his sister this was more annoying than impressive.
This amazing gift was primarily overlooked. It's simply what got him through life. It helped him advance his career. It helped him fit.
Bubba loved to learn. He lived to learn. I believe if it were not for his disability, or even perhaps if he had been diagnosed - he may have become a scholar. One of those 'professional students', maybe even a professor like his dad.
And at some point he came to realize that an education was actually very important to him.
So once again - he overcame.
Bubba got a diploma.
He found an amazing university doing a progressive degree program which catered to folks with jobs trying to advance their educations. It's a non-traditional adult learning program - tho more intense than most.
Since it was so personalized - the learning experience could be tweaked to his dyslexic limitations. And there he soared.
Not only did he graduate with a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Human Development - but Bubba was the keynote speaker as well.
He was eloquent, and funny and touching.
We overheard a professor ask him if he had memorized his words. He spoke with such confidence and poise and it was quite evident he was not reading from a paper.
In true character - he simply chuckled and replied to the professor that he had a written speech but he was not really sure where he laid it down last, surely it must be somewhere...
His wife quietly whispered to us - that in fact he spoke exactly what he had written, as she had read his speech earlier this week.
That's my big brother Bubba.
He is his father's son.
He is a scholar.
Bubba is my brother.
My older brother.
So close in age, it always surprises me that our earliest memories don't seem to match. The result of a brother and sister's individual interpretations of their childhoods I suppose... or at least I hope. We joke about been raised by different families.
Bubba and I were not really close as kids. We were very different with different friends and interests. Tho we were not combative either. We argued rarely and were never rough with each other.
In high school, only 1 year apart, our paths grew even farther from each other. I was popular and on the wild side (ok - far to that side). He was quiet and kept to himself a bit. I was considered the smart one - but really more clever than smart. Mom gave him a hard time about his grades and his unkempt room and all sorts of other nonsense.
When it came time for college we were both expected to attend the private university where our father had been a well respected professor. We had free rides and free reign with a great head start from faculty who still remembered our father fondly over a dozen years after his death.
Bubba went off to school first - but it didn't click for him. His poor high school grades confirmed by his failure to thrive at college.
A year later I left for the same school, leaving Bubba behind living at home.
But Bubba was anything but dumb. With no education he landed himself a job as a case worker. He literally talked himself into a career, a field he works in to this day. Like his father, he is well respected in his work, and liked by his coworkers for his amiable attitude and great sense of humor.
At some point during his adult life Bubba came to realize his earlier difficulties were caused by dyslexia. Finally an answer to what hindered him from being able to muddle his way through reading and writing and learning all those years. Not even he understood why it was just so hard for him. So hard for him to learn and prepare and present - so hard for him, while I skated through barely even going to class and bringing excellent grades home. Even as a young person I realized how frustrating that must have been for him.
But like a blind person might - he learned to compensate. He honed a perfect memory. He absorbed like a sponge. If he heard it once, not only could he remember it and understand it but he could connect and expand on several things based on relation information - pulling it all together. He was like a walking encyclopedia, or perhaps more accurately - a database, and he loved to talk and share. Please note, that as his sister this was more annoying than impressive.
This amazing gift was primarily overlooked. It's simply what got him through life. It helped him advance his career. It helped him fit.
Bubba loved to learn. He lived to learn. I believe if it were not for his disability, or even perhaps if he had been diagnosed - he may have become a scholar. One of those 'professional students', maybe even a professor like his dad.
And at some point he came to realize that an education was actually very important to him.
So once again - he overcame.
Bubba got a diploma.
He found an amazing university doing a progressive degree program which catered to folks with jobs trying to advance their educations. It's a non-traditional adult learning program - tho more intense than most.
Since it was so personalized - the learning experience could be tweaked to his dyslexic limitations. And there he soared.
Not only did he graduate with a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology and Human Development - but Bubba was the keynote speaker as well.
He was eloquent, and funny and touching.
We overheard a professor ask him if he had memorized his words. He spoke with such confidence and poise and it was quite evident he was not reading from a paper.
In true character - he simply chuckled and replied to the professor that he had a written speech but he was not really sure where he laid it down last, surely it must be somewhere...
His wife quietly whispered to us - that in fact he spoke exactly what he had written, as she had read his speech earlier this week.
That's my big brother Bubba.
He is his father's son.
He is a scholar.
Mom would be so proud.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
I caught some of the 11 o'clock news last night. I wanted to see if winter planned to make an appearance here in New England (note that I am NOT complaining).
The weather is last of course - this way we must muddle through all the local drudgery. Apparently some Town Hall was going to redo their roof and residents were having a nit fit. In another town some folks are without power...again... tho really you would think we'd all be used to that by now.
Then we got to crime portion of the news.
In a town not to far from here it seems there was a store that was robbed. The newscaster described the robbers as 'two white men'.
A little farther north there was a bank robbery. These suspects were described as 'two black men'.
So people, please - keep your eyes out for either two white men, or two black men.
I suppose if you should see four men and two of them are white and two of them are black we can assume its a crime ring.
For that matter if you simply see one man and he is either white or black - you may have spotted one of them.
So if you see anyone at all - perhaps you should just call the police.
The weather is last of course - this way we must muddle through all the local drudgery. Apparently some Town Hall was going to redo their roof and residents were having a nit fit. In another town some folks are without power...again... tho really you would think we'd all be used to that by now.
Then we got to crime portion of the news.
In a town not to far from here it seems there was a store that was robbed. The newscaster described the robbers as 'two white men'.
A little farther north there was a bank robbery. These suspects were described as 'two black men'.
So people, please - keep your eyes out for either two white men, or two black men.
I suppose if you should see four men and two of them are white and two of them are black we can assume its a crime ring.
For that matter if you simply see one man and he is either white or black - you may have spotted one of them.
So if you see anyone at all - perhaps you should just call the police.
this can't be good
I turned on the Victoria Secret fashion show last night.
What's better than terribly attractive women in very little clothing?
Who needs in-depth programming or even a plot.
Simply eye-candy.
Oddly, its just made me hungry.
What's better than terribly attractive women in very little clothing?
Who needs in-depth programming or even a plot.
Simply eye-candy.
Oddly, its just made me hungry.
Monday, November 28, 2011
how to relax over the holidays
Go to someone elses house. heh.
After some 20+ years of hosting ... Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas morning or Christmas brunch or Christmas dinner, Easter even Mothers day - perhaps all of these in the same year.
We had the unique opportunity to ...not.
This year my attractively-aging wife and I were hosted by our daughter - who seemingly loves to cook and entertain. She makes it all seem so effortless (and tasty). Ah, to be young.
This meant there was no holiday pre-clean. No shopping or cooking or basting and stirring. We didn't vacuum ...twice (thanks Free dog). We didn't rent tables and set up rooms in odd configurations to handle the masses. We didn't create a space for hors devours or a makeshift wine bar.
Instead - we lingered over coffee. We watched the parade, and scuffed around in jammies like it was a Sunday morning.
Later that day, we ate, we drank, we helped clear some dishes.
Then we stuffed ourselves into our car, and rolled home.
Where there was no post holiday cleaning, no crumbs ground into the furniture, no mountains of empties to rinse and put out. No dishes hidden under the sofa. Not a wine spill to be found.
I felt so lazy.
I could get used to this.
After some 20+ years of hosting ... Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas morning or Christmas brunch or Christmas dinner, Easter even Mothers day - perhaps all of these in the same year.
We had the unique opportunity to ...not.
This year my attractively-aging wife and I were hosted by our daughter - who seemingly loves to cook and entertain. She makes it all seem so effortless (and tasty). Ah, to be young.
This meant there was no holiday pre-clean. No shopping or cooking or basting and stirring. We didn't vacuum ...twice (thanks Free dog). We didn't rent tables and set up rooms in odd configurations to handle the masses. We didn't create a space for hors devours or a makeshift wine bar.
Instead - we lingered over coffee. We watched the parade, and scuffed around in jammies like it was a Sunday morning.
Later that day, we ate, we drank, we helped clear some dishes.
Then we stuffed ourselves into our car, and rolled home.
Where there was no post holiday cleaning, no crumbs ground into the furniture, no mountains of empties to rinse and put out. No dishes hidden under the sofa. Not a wine spill to be found.
I felt so lazy.
I could get used to this.
Monday, November 21, 2011
does this make me look old
The problem, as I see it, with this 'my hair should look like I just woke up' look - is that I can no longer tell if a guy is lazy and unkempt or seriously fashionable.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Friday
tip-o-day
It occurred to me -- while squishing myself into a tiny attic crawl space with several tools in hand, wearing a face mask, goggles and gloves and stuffing insulation between the floor joists (vapor barrier down, of course) that not only should I be paying somebody to do this for me - but that I need to share some important advice with my children.
Do the best you can to plan your life well. Save money when you're young. Don't squander it all on fun and dinners out and fancy cars and trips and fine shoes (well... maybe fine shoes).
That way, when you get to be the ripe ole age of 50 - you can hire people to do things like lay on their backs with a staple gun and itchy pink insulation in spaces that should only be accessed by the occasional house spider.
Excuse me while I go find my checkbook.
It occurred to me -- while squishing myself into a tiny attic crawl space with several tools in hand, wearing a face mask, goggles and gloves and stuffing insulation between the floor joists (vapor barrier down, of course) that not only should I be paying somebody to do this for me - but that I need to share some important advice with my children.
Do the best you can to plan your life well. Save money when you're young. Don't squander it all on fun and dinners out and fancy cars and trips and fine shoes (well... maybe fine shoes).
That way, when you get to be the ripe ole age of 50 - you can hire people to do things like lay on their backs with a staple gun and itchy pink insulation in spaces that should only be accessed by the occasional house spider.
Excuse me while I go find my checkbook.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Friday
tip-o-day
It's best to move furniture away from registers during the heating season. This is especially important with baseboard heat where it needs to draw cooler room air up under the register and release it from the top at toasty temps.
To help keep furniture from sliding back up against the registers from normal daily use - use a small board (perhaps 1/2 thick by 3 inch width) cut to about 6 or so inches in length. I like to use pine scraps from my workshop and if they will be visible, I apply a coat or two of poly so it blends with our wood floors.
Simply place the wood behind each furniture leg and tuck it under the register or push it against the wall. This way the sofa, bed or table won't be able to get any closer.
It's best to move furniture away from registers during the heating season. This is especially important with baseboard heat where it needs to draw cooler room air up under the register and release it from the top at toasty temps.
To help keep furniture from sliding back up against the registers from normal daily use - use a small board (perhaps 1/2 thick by 3 inch width) cut to about 6 or so inches in length. I like to use pine scraps from my workshop and if they will be visible, I apply a coat or two of poly so it blends with our wood floors.
Simply place the wood behind each furniture leg and tuck it under the register or push it against the wall. This way the sofa, bed or table won't be able to get any closer.
Tuesday, November 08, 2011
Got power?
As you may have heard we’ve been having some ‘electrical issues’ here in the Northeast or perhaps it’s only Connecticut. Certainly seems to be anyway. Or maybe we just don't hear the news from our neighboring states over our own loud complaining.
Now I don’t run a power company, nor do I have any knowledge of the inner workings of such a business… but most people in the state, and especially those without power are certain that something is not right. Currently there is a lot of finger pointing and complaining, while we still have several thousand folks going without power now for 9 days. I heard there is even a lawsuit. Eek.
Granted it's been pretty bad here. Roads are impassable, schools have been out for over a week in some places, homes are damaged, trees are just destroyed. There are parking lots where folks can get drinking water, and places opening up called 'warming stations' for those folks trying to stay with their homes ..but who just need to get toasty for a little while. The shelters are full, the hotels with power are full, and those of us with power are taking in family and friends.
(this was not a hardship for us mind you... as it was our nieces who we got to take in )
I do know that despite any missteps by management that the folks working the lines are out there in force, working long, long hours – in the dark, in the cold and now many of them leaving their homes and families in other states to come help us out.
It so happened that yesterday on the highway I passed some of these line workers – looked like they were convoying to either another outage location, or maybe back home to their families and warm hearths.
There had to be at least 20 trucks traveling along in the right lane. The emblem on their trucks put them all from Michigan. Michigan people… wow.
And so.. I pulled into the middle lane and traveled at a speed where I could pass each truck in the convoy. Each time I came up next to a truck I beeped and waved and gave at thumbs up out of my sunroof. Each truck in turn tooted back at me. I passed so many of these guys, that by the time I got to the front of the line they were beeping and waving at me first. Other 16 wheelers joined in and beeped too, as well as some drivers who caught on to what was going on.
Down at our house by the marsh, our power didn’t even flicker – we don’t get much snow down here. But I really wanted to say thanks. Thanks to the people that go out and do cold, and important work --despite issues with management, flawed media coverage, and a bunch of cranky customers.
Now I don’t run a power company, nor do I have any knowledge of the inner workings of such a business… but most people in the state, and especially those without power are certain that something is not right. Currently there is a lot of finger pointing and complaining, while we still have several thousand folks going without power now for 9 days. I heard there is even a lawsuit. Eek.
Granted it's been pretty bad here. Roads are impassable, schools have been out for over a week in some places, homes are damaged, trees are just destroyed. There are parking lots where folks can get drinking water, and places opening up called 'warming stations' for those folks trying to stay with their homes ..but who just need to get toasty for a little while. The shelters are full, the hotels with power are full, and those of us with power are taking in family and friends.
(this was not a hardship for us mind you... as it was our nieces who we got to take in )
I do know that despite any missteps by management that the folks working the lines are out there in force, working long, long hours – in the dark, in the cold and now many of them leaving their homes and families in other states to come help us out.
It so happened that yesterday on the highway I passed some of these line workers – looked like they were convoying to either another outage location, or maybe back home to their families and warm hearths.
There had to be at least 20 trucks traveling along in the right lane. The emblem on their trucks put them all from Michigan. Michigan people… wow.
And so.. I pulled into the middle lane and traveled at a speed where I could pass each truck in the convoy. Each time I came up next to a truck I beeped and waved and gave at thumbs up out of my sunroof. Each truck in turn tooted back at me. I passed so many of these guys, that by the time I got to the front of the line they were beeping and waving at me first. Other 16 wheelers joined in and beeped too, as well as some drivers who caught on to what was going on.
Down at our house by the marsh, our power didn’t even flicker – we don’t get much snow down here. But I really wanted to say thanks. Thanks to the people that go out and do cold, and important work --despite issues with management, flawed media coverage, and a bunch of cranky customers.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Friday
tip-o-day
If you know you're house will be filled with workers ALL day...who might possibly be tracking in mud and marking up your freshly painted walls - take you Xanax early.
If you know you're house will be filled with workers ALL day...who might possibly be tracking in mud and marking up your freshly painted walls - take you Xanax early.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
It's still going on...
Just so you don't think we are all sitting around swilling Bloody Mary's here all day long...
(well not the entire day...)
Work continues here on the little house by the marsh.
This week we are getting all new windows. Believe me ...we need them.
The cement slab for our new 2 car garage has been poured. We don't have an actual garage yet, but really I can't be too picky.
Last week we had the entire back lawn removed.
We reseeded it. Which was more work than I had expected. Somehow I wasn't completely convinced that age can actually slow you down. That was a huge miscalculation.
Luckily the very next day found us in Provincetown - swilling Bloody Mary's of course.
(well not the entire day...)
Work continues here on the little house by the marsh.
This week we are getting all new windows. Believe me ...we need them.
The cement slab for our new 2 car garage has been poured. We don't have an actual garage yet, but really I can't be too picky.
Last week we had the entire back lawn removed.
We reseeded it. Which was more work than I had expected. Somehow I wasn't completely convinced that age can actually slow you down. That was a huge miscalculation.
Luckily the very next day found us in Provincetown - swilling Bloody Mary's of course.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Really…
I heard on the radio this morning that they will soon offer rides in space starting at about $200k per 2 hour ride.
People… if you happen to have $200k to joy ride in a rocket, could you just feed somebody.
People… if you happen to have $200k to joy ride in a rocket, could you just feed somebody.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
and then there was one
The era of the land baronesses has ended. whew.
We now only own one house. It almost seems too easy.
I closed on mom's condo on Friday.
It was even more emotional than closing on our own house a few weeks ago.
As tired as we were of running three households there is just something about that moment when you realize you can never go back.
The closing went smoothly, in fact while I was signing papers the buyer called and asked if she could go in. Apparently she was sitting in her car with her daughter - after just having closed on her old house...waiting... nervous waiting. I agreed immediately, even wished I had thought to mention it sooner. I know the day must have been terribly hard for her. I wanted to do anything I could to make it as smooth as possible.
You see, Ita had been living in her home for over 40 years. She raised her children there, her husband was a teacher at the towns high school and she was a nurse (just like my mom). Ita lost her husband to cancer just this past March. I don't the story of how she managed to get organized enough to move so quickly - but I do know that moving to my mom's senior complex is right in between her two daughters. I have to believe that was a major motivation.
After I signed all the papers (it was just me and the lawyers - I am the executrix)
I headed over to my mom's plot at the cemetery which is just down the street from the condo. This was my thoughtful-wifes' idea, and as usual her suggestions are worth listening to.
The afternoon was stunning, warm sunshine and a cool autumn breeze. It was while I sat there enjoying the air and tending to the plot that I decided to go buy a small house warming plant and stop by to meet Ita. Was that crazy? I don't know. But it felt right.
The movers were there, and in full swing. As I approached the front door I waved to an elderly woman just inside. She invited me in even before I had a chance to introduce myself. Once I told Ita that I was the one who just sold her the condo she had me sitting at the table chatting in no time at all. Her daughter was there - helping her to unpack her kitchen. The three of us chit chatted comfortably about moving, and being a nurse, about how wonderful this neighborhood is how friendly the neighbors are - all watching out for each other.
I watched her furniture fill up the rooms that we had visited for over a dozen years. Her sofa set against the wall where mom's green one used to be. I spent more than a few nights during those last months sleeping on that green sofa, so I could be close to her room in case she stirred.
Ita's brown leather recliner remarkably set just where mom's favorite swivel recliner was. You could walk in any time and find her sunken into it. She would spin it around to face the door when she heard me come in as I called out a greeting. It was her go-to spot whether to watch a football game or when she was not feeling well. She even slept in it sometimes when the chemo made her too nauseous to lie in bed.
It did not bother me to see these changes. It felt good. I was happy for Ita. I was happy for the little condo. Happy for all the new memories that were going to happen there. Happy for the new grandkids that would come skipping through that door, calling out to grandma, who might be sitting in her recliner.
Knowing the good energy that was left there, and knowing how much Ita could use some now.
I was ready to let go.
I am ready to carry on.
peace mom.
We now only own one house. It almost seems too easy.
I closed on mom's condo on Friday.
It was even more emotional than closing on our own house a few weeks ago.
As tired as we were of running three households there is just something about that moment when you realize you can never go back.
The closing went smoothly, in fact while I was signing papers the buyer called and asked if she could go in. Apparently she was sitting in her car with her daughter - after just having closed on her old house...waiting... nervous waiting. I agreed immediately, even wished I had thought to mention it sooner. I know the day must have been terribly hard for her. I wanted to do anything I could to make it as smooth as possible.
You see, Ita had been living in her home for over 40 years. She raised her children there, her husband was a teacher at the towns high school and she was a nurse (just like my mom). Ita lost her husband to cancer just this past March. I don't the story of how she managed to get organized enough to move so quickly - but I do know that moving to my mom's senior complex is right in between her two daughters. I have to believe that was a major motivation.
After I signed all the papers (it was just me and the lawyers - I am the executrix)
I headed over to my mom's plot at the cemetery which is just down the street from the condo. This was my thoughtful-wifes' idea, and as usual her suggestions are worth listening to.
The afternoon was stunning, warm sunshine and a cool autumn breeze. It was while I sat there enjoying the air and tending to the plot that I decided to go buy a small house warming plant and stop by to meet Ita. Was that crazy? I don't know. But it felt right.
The movers were there, and in full swing. As I approached the front door I waved to an elderly woman just inside. She invited me in even before I had a chance to introduce myself. Once I told Ita that I was the one who just sold her the condo she had me sitting at the table chatting in no time at all. Her daughter was there - helping her to unpack her kitchen. The three of us chit chatted comfortably about moving, and being a nurse, about how wonderful this neighborhood is how friendly the neighbors are - all watching out for each other.
I watched her furniture fill up the rooms that we had visited for over a dozen years. Her sofa set against the wall where mom's green one used to be. I spent more than a few nights during those last months sleeping on that green sofa, so I could be close to her room in case she stirred.
Ita's brown leather recliner remarkably set just where mom's favorite swivel recliner was. You could walk in any time and find her sunken into it. She would spin it around to face the door when she heard me come in as I called out a greeting. It was her go-to spot whether to watch a football game or when she was not feeling well. She even slept in it sometimes when the chemo made her too nauseous to lie in bed.
It did not bother me to see these changes. It felt good. I was happy for Ita. I was happy for the little condo. Happy for all the new memories that were going to happen there. Happy for the new grandkids that would come skipping through that door, calling out to grandma, who might be sitting in her recliner.
Knowing the good energy that was left there, and knowing how much Ita could use some now.
I was ready to let go.
I am ready to carry on.
peace mom.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Big News
I have had so much to say lately, it's time to get back to it...
What a better way to start than with this.
Last night we did something that most of you do every day - that we have not done in 25 years.
Yes, folks.
We loaded and ran a dishwasher.
Right here in our own house.
All by itself it sat there whirring and swishing and soon enough, it was done!
These new fangled gadgets are certainly amazing.
What a better way to start than with this.
Last night we did something that most of you do every day - that we have not done in 25 years.
Yes, folks.
We loaded and ran a dishwasher.
Right here in our own house.
All by itself it sat there whirring and swishing and soon enough, it was done!
These new fangled gadgets are certainly amazing.
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