I am told this old earth mover was operating not too many years ago.
Love those old C cab trucks.
I am quite sure I do not want to drive one in cold weather, however!
Gratitude #83 - Sweet Biddies!
11 years ago
Friday, January 22, 2010
candles
My daughters love to see candle light.
I like it too, so I put them on the table at almost every meal.
But something about candles bothers Miriam, and not just now with AD as our constant companion.
I light a candle for a meal, as soon as the meal is over, the table is cleared and the candle disappears. It just goes away. I have looked a long time for some of them, and some I never did figure where she put them.
But lately I have been burning a big 3 wick candle. It is big enough that it is hard to hide. Then, after it burns a bit and creates a hollow, Miriam grabs a knife and cuts off the edges to match the wick level. As much as I can, I save the wax.
The other day I was going through some of her art gear and found a big old electric frying pan. It had wax in it (potters was the base of pots so the glaze won't stick there). There was a lot of wax.
So I plugged it in and heated the wax. It took a while on low heat, then I poured it into a metal bucket I had close and there was almost a gallon of wax.
The interesting thing is that the wax is a pretty bright green color! I could add red and make a candle that was a dull brown!
Hmm.
I like it too, so I put them on the table at almost every meal.
But something about candles bothers Miriam, and not just now with AD as our constant companion.
I light a candle for a meal, as soon as the meal is over, the table is cleared and the candle disappears. It just goes away. I have looked a long time for some of them, and some I never did figure where she put them.
But lately I have been burning a big 3 wick candle. It is big enough that it is hard to hide. Then, after it burns a bit and creates a hollow, Miriam grabs a knife and cuts off the edges to match the wick level. As much as I can, I save the wax.
The other day I was going through some of her art gear and found a big old electric frying pan. It had wax in it (potters was the base of pots so the glaze won't stick there). There was a lot of wax.
So I plugged it in and heated the wax. It took a while on low heat, then I poured it into a metal bucket I had close and there was almost a gallon of wax.
The interesting thing is that the wax is a pretty bright green color! I could add red and make a candle that was a dull brown!
Hmm.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
best present ever
Miriam's birthday was Monday.
Monday was a holiday so grandson Ben was not working, and he called first. In his gravely careful voice he wished grandma a happy birthday.
Through the day all of the daughters checked in with the same message. Emily called in the evening and she and her mom talked to Miriam.
But there is one person who shares the day. Our oldest grandson was born on Miriam's birthday 27 years ago. If he does not call grandma the day of her birthday, he is totally forgiven, after all he has things to do on that day!
“David (he was named after his two grandfathers: David James) you are my best birthday present ever.”
I reminded her that I bought her a new car for her birthday one year, and though we all laughed at the comparison, she would not give in. “No, David James was my best birthday present.”
And that is true, of course.
He is a boy to be proud of. He has about 4 years of formal eduction, but has a couple of associate degrees, and has a very responsible job at the computer center of a hospital chain. He was promoted a while back because his superiors saw nascent managerial ability.
So, grandma was dutifully wished a happy birthday. She kept asking the same questions of them, but they understood.
Love you each.
Monday was a holiday so grandson Ben was not working, and he called first. In his gravely careful voice he wished grandma a happy birthday.
Through the day all of the daughters checked in with the same message. Emily called in the evening and she and her mom talked to Miriam.
But there is one person who shares the day. Our oldest grandson was born on Miriam's birthday 27 years ago. If he does not call grandma the day of her birthday, he is totally forgiven, after all he has things to do on that day!
“David (he was named after his two grandfathers: David James) you are my best birthday present ever.”
I reminded her that I bought her a new car for her birthday one year, and though we all laughed at the comparison, she would not give in. “No, David James was my best birthday present.”
And that is true, of course.
He is a boy to be proud of. He has about 4 years of formal eduction, but has a couple of associate degrees, and has a very responsible job at the computer center of a hospital chain. He was promoted a while back because his superiors saw nascent managerial ability.
So, grandma was dutifully wished a happy birthday. She kept asking the same questions of them, but they understood.
Love you each.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
burnt beans
I put some beans on to cook yesterday morning.
Used the wood burning stove we heat the house – why not. In a few hours the beans were almost cooked, so I left them on the stove and went out to the shop to work.
After a while Miriam came out to tell me that the beans were cooked. I told her to set them off the stove and I'd finish fixing them for dinner.
A couple of hours later I came in the house.
It was full of smoke. Miriam, who cannot smell skunks in a closet, found nothing unusual. The heating stove was working well, no smoke there. I looked in the kitchen. My pan of beans was on the stove and it was emitting a steady cloud of dark smoke.
I turned the heat off and moved the pan. When asked, she couldn't remember.
This is the first time she has burned food so throughly, without having any memory of it at all. I am told that AD people do that. One more thing I have to watch.
A side note: when Miriam came out to the shop she had Leo who was not wanting to be in the house. She took him for a walk. When we went back inside, he cowered in the utility, then in the downstairs bathroom, with his head tight against the floor.
As the smoke cleared (thanks to the exhaust fan in the up bathroom) he came out of the bathroom. He has now ascended to be the smoke detector, he just doesn't speak english.
Used the wood burning stove we heat the house – why not. In a few hours the beans were almost cooked, so I left them on the stove and went out to the shop to work.
After a while Miriam came out to tell me that the beans were cooked. I told her to set them off the stove and I'd finish fixing them for dinner.
A couple of hours later I came in the house.
It was full of smoke. Miriam, who cannot smell skunks in a closet, found nothing unusual. The heating stove was working well, no smoke there. I looked in the kitchen. My pan of beans was on the stove and it was emitting a steady cloud of dark smoke.
I turned the heat off and moved the pan. When asked, she couldn't remember.
This is the first time she has burned food so throughly, without having any memory of it at all. I am told that AD people do that. One more thing I have to watch.
A side note: when Miriam came out to the shop she had Leo who was not wanting to be in the house. She took him for a walk. When we went back inside, he cowered in the utility, then in the downstairs bathroom, with his head tight against the floor.
As the smoke cleared (thanks to the exhaust fan in the up bathroom) he came out of the bathroom. He has now ascended to be the smoke detector, he just doesn't speak english.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
memories
This is an excerpt from an email from a daughter (I have edited it a bit): Mom says she's 73 today! This is a tribute to my good mother...
Does anyone remember LaVern, Marilyn and little Darla? Darla was Linda's age? Well, LaVern and Marilyn are now members in the same church as us (our two congregations merged), and as it happened they came home from church with us for the evening the other day for visiting, games, supper and worship. So I get out pictures to show; a great conversation piece.
Suddenly Marilyn lights up! One picture sent her remembering us; we were neighbors, and she detailed one special 35-something-year-old story I will now share with you.
After we'd moved away, she said, Mom and Dad would come back for business, bringing Linda along and two little lunch boxes with lunch in them. (No one remembers for sure now, but perhaps Marilyn babysat Linda while the 'business' was transpiring?) She described how one time when Mom arrived with Linda, she didn't bring the two lunch boxes but one big bag of groceries, saying she didn't have time to make the lunches but they could make lunch from the groceries instead. Marilyn recalled that was a month they were very poor and didn't have enough money for much food. Mom didn't know that, but when time came for Linda to go home, Mom insisted Marilyn keep all the groceries, even what wasn't used. This stuck with Marilyn, recalling in particular a pound of much-needed margarine in the bottom of the bag.
Now, I'm sure this was during the time we were living in Enterprise/Joseph. And of course we were wealthy and had lots of food and plenty of everything hahaha! No, this is our mother, who, even when struggling to provide for her own family, would give to others. She doesn't even remember this incident today (no surprise), but it made a huge impression on the younger mother and her family. Isn't God good!
Dave here again: A good shrink might untangle all of this. Miriam would give to help others even as she sometimes ignored her own family. My daughters tell of Christmas's when their mom would buy spendy fruit and nuts and put them in baskets to give to our photographic competitors (who did nothing at all for us), and there would be none of those goodies for the family.
My daughters don't tell me of many bad memories from growing up, but this is one sore spot.
There is something terribly disjointed here and I have never been able to really understand.
Does anyone remember LaVern, Marilyn and little Darla? Darla was Linda's age? Well, LaVern and Marilyn are now members in the same church as us (our two congregations merged), and as it happened they came home from church with us for the evening the other day for visiting, games, supper and worship. So I get out pictures to show; a great conversation piece.
Suddenly Marilyn lights up! One picture sent her remembering us; we were neighbors, and she detailed one special 35-something-year-old story I will now share with you.
After we'd moved away, she said, Mom and Dad would come back for business, bringing Linda along and two little lunch boxes with lunch in them. (No one remembers for sure now, but perhaps Marilyn babysat Linda while the 'business' was transpiring?) She described how one time when Mom arrived with Linda, she didn't bring the two lunch boxes but one big bag of groceries, saying she didn't have time to make the lunches but they could make lunch from the groceries instead. Marilyn recalled that was a month they were very poor and didn't have enough money for much food. Mom didn't know that, but when time came for Linda to go home, Mom insisted Marilyn keep all the groceries, even what wasn't used. This stuck with Marilyn, recalling in particular a pound of much-needed margarine in the bottom of the bag.
Now, I'm sure this was during the time we were living in Enterprise/Joseph. And of course we were wealthy and had lots of food and plenty of everything hahaha! No, this is our mother, who, even when struggling to provide for her own family, would give to others. She doesn't even remember this incident today (no surprise), but it made a huge impression on the younger mother and her family. Isn't God good!
Dave here again: A good shrink might untangle all of this. Miriam would give to help others even as she sometimes ignored her own family. My daughters tell of Christmas's when their mom would buy spendy fruit and nuts and put them in baskets to give to our photographic competitors (who did nothing at all for us), and there would be none of those goodies for the family.
My daughters don't tell me of many bad memories from growing up, but this is one sore spot.
There is something terribly disjointed here and I have never been able to really understand.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Happy Birthday Miriam
It has been 57 years this spring since we began "going together." I am sure we did not really know what that meant, but it was a bit exclusive!
We have lived way too long to die young, but these years are so precious. When she was diagnosed with AD, I had no idea she would be doing so well at this point.
If, more than money and fine things, a woman needs is to be loved and adored, Miriam has been rich indeed.
Even with the damned AD she is pretty wonderful.
We will celebrate by going out the Olive Garden to eat this afternoon.
I love you Miriam.
This picture was taken in '95. Andrew was 3 and Emily soon would be.
She has been a good grandma.
Aunt Barbara
In the spring of 1953, I was on a trip to San Francisco.
The school I attended had a choir that had been invited to sing at a conference. Miriam and I were “going together,” but she was not in the choir that year.
My Uncle Wayne (my middle name is after him) was a young pastor in the area, and he was to meet me sometime when we were there at the conference. Instead, he got in touch some way to say that he had to meet his girl friend and could not see me.
The next year he married the girl, and she became my Aunt Barbara.
So I did not meet her at that point, but I made her acquaintance, in a round about way!
Many years later we drove from Washington State to Massachusetts for my brother's wedding. We stayed, all 6 of us, at Uncle Wayne and Aunt Barbara's house. We arrived a day or so before the wedding, and later that same day Wayne and Barbara and family took off for a trip to Switzerland, leaving us in a state where we knew no one, but staying in an unfamiliar house.
Barbara was in nursing school at the time. I remember Miriam saying to her that she looked tired, and Barbara answering that she “was not as tired as she thought she was.” I think that meant she was not quite at total exhaustion, but close.
Through the years, our paths did not cross often.
Wayne was my father's youngest brother, but there was about 12 or 13 years between them. By the time Wayne was going to school, my father had left home.
Wayne was the young uncle I never really got to know. Even though Barbara lived here for a few years after he was killed, I did not really get to know here either.
No not really, and now they are both entries in my memory.
The school I attended had a choir that had been invited to sing at a conference. Miriam and I were “going together,” but she was not in the choir that year.
My Uncle Wayne (my middle name is after him) was a young pastor in the area, and he was to meet me sometime when we were there at the conference. Instead, he got in touch some way to say that he had to meet his girl friend and could not see me.
The next year he married the girl, and she became my Aunt Barbara.
So I did not meet her at that point, but I made her acquaintance, in a round about way!
Many years later we drove from Washington State to Massachusetts for my brother's wedding. We stayed, all 6 of us, at Uncle Wayne and Aunt Barbara's house. We arrived a day or so before the wedding, and later that same day Wayne and Barbara and family took off for a trip to Switzerland, leaving us in a state where we knew no one, but staying in an unfamiliar house.
Barbara was in nursing school at the time. I remember Miriam saying to her that she looked tired, and Barbara answering that she “was not as tired as she thought she was.” I think that meant she was not quite at total exhaustion, but close.
Through the years, our paths did not cross often.
Wayne was my father's youngest brother, but there was about 12 or 13 years between them. By the time Wayne was going to school, my father had left home.
Wayne was the young uncle I never really got to know. Even though Barbara lived here for a few years after he was killed, I did not really get to know here either.
No not really, and now they are both entries in my memory.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
sue and len
The local Alzheimer's support group met last week.
There were about a dozen people there, and if listening to others problems makes a good day, it was one. Some are handling the damned disease well and others are really not.
Among others, there were two people there. Len and Sue (not their real names). Her husband is still in the argumentative stage and Len's wife does not even talk any longer.
At break time, Sue approached Len. “Are you related...?” She gave a woman's first name and Len's last name.
“Maybe.”
Sue pressed on. She asked again but this time added the woman's middle initial. “Yes, she is my X wife,” Len answered.
“Well, she had an affair with my husband years ago and most of the troubles between us are because of that affair.”
“That is one reason why I divorced her.” Len grinned.
She did not say how long ago this was, but it seems to have been a good while ago, long after Len divorced her. But she had not forgotten for sure, and neither had she forgiven.
At break time, Len, Walt (the facilitator) and I were in the rest room at the same time. It was very serious business for Sue, but to Len it was really quite funny. His x wife and this woman's husband and he laughed again.
Len, by nature, is a happy person, he laughs deep and loud, he smiles a lot, even though his life is not all easy right now. Sue, on the other hand, rarely if ever smiles. She has been coming to the group meetings for a year or two, but I have never seen her remotely pleased.
The sad thing is that her anger at her husband was poisoning their relationship as well as her own mental and physical health.
I doubt it would do any good to remind her of that, though I should try some how.
Maybe.
There were about a dozen people there, and if listening to others problems makes a good day, it was one. Some are handling the damned disease well and others are really not.
Among others, there were two people there. Len and Sue (not their real names). Her husband is still in the argumentative stage and Len's wife does not even talk any longer.
At break time, Sue approached Len. “Are you related...?” She gave a woman's first name and Len's last name.
“Maybe.”
Sue pressed on. She asked again but this time added the woman's middle initial. “Yes, she is my X wife,” Len answered.
“Well, she had an affair with my husband years ago and most of the troubles between us are because of that affair.”
“That is one reason why I divorced her.” Len grinned.
She did not say how long ago this was, but it seems to have been a good while ago, long after Len divorced her. But she had not forgotten for sure, and neither had she forgiven.
At break time, Len, Walt (the facilitator) and I were in the rest room at the same time. It was very serious business for Sue, but to Len it was really quite funny. His x wife and this woman's husband and he laughed again.
Len, by nature, is a happy person, he laughs deep and loud, he smiles a lot, even though his life is not all easy right now. Sue, on the other hand, rarely if ever smiles. She has been coming to the group meetings for a year or two, but I have never seen her remotely pleased.
The sad thing is that her anger at her husband was poisoning their relationship as well as her own mental and physical health.
I doubt it would do any good to remind her of that, though I should try some how.
Maybe.
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