What is happening to language these days? To my way of thinking it's just getting more vulgar and well, common. I grew up in a home where the occasional cuss word was heard, mostly said by my father when he was angry. When I was really young I remember more of that sort of thing, but that changed for some reason and became less and less the older I got, and I'm not sure why. Maybe he was trying to be a better example to his kids.
Cussing at home wasn't something I heard regularly. I almost never heard my mom say anything like that, and I can't remember saying many cuss words myself. I would have been eating soap if I did. For a brief period I did say the word, "crackers!" when something was frustrating me, but I sort of felt that was like wanting to say a cuss word without actually doing it, so I stopped. I have been married for 33 years to the same man and have never heard him say one single cuss word. That's amazing, and "no" he isn't a saint, and "yes" he does get angry.
To listen to people speak today, I feel totally out of it, old, or something. My standards are pretty high in this area, for secretly I also object to all words connoting bathroom functions as well. For all the education people have paid for in this country, it seems it's really hard to express yourself in good words.
I think it is odd and sort of funny that people who would be mortified to hear any religious words spoken in a school or public place, will use God's name in an irreverent way in that very place. God's name is spoken as a cuss word with the prefix of "O" by people in public more times than I would ever say even in a good way. I find that totally ironic.
Well, now to get down to it, here is the crux of this post. What is with the "b*tch" word? I hear it said all over the place. When I was younger that was one of the most vulgar words you could say to a woman. It was contemptuous, vile, and certainly a slanderous word to be flung during a horrible rage. Now everybody seems to say it to everyone else. Has this become a term of endearment? Girls say it to friends, gay guys or gals to each other and other women, boyfriends to girlfriends and girls even proudly say it about themselves. I just don't get it. What's with the dumbing down and vulgarity of our common language?
You can bet that I will hold you in higher esteem if I hear good positive words coming from your mouth. That goes for the President of the United States on down. When I point my finger at someone else though there are three of them pointing right back at me. Just in case you're feeling really guilty, I slip and mess up on a rare occasion. How I really hate that!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Never heard in church
The following is a sentence you never hear in church. "Uh, your Bible is pulling your top down." Stretchy v-neck top caught on a suede Bible cover = ROFL.
How embarrassing. Hopefully, Tim was the only one that noticed. So nice to visit our son's church on vacation.
How embarrassing. Hopefully, Tim was the only one that noticed. So nice to visit our son's church on vacation.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Bump Outs make exciting driving
I laughed out loud at the sign as we passed. We were traveling in Illinois in such torrential rains that Interstate 80/94 in the Chicago area was shut down. Tim and I were on our way to a Sunday wedding and taking the slow scenic route due to the rain. We were not having a happy time.
Somewhere in the Chicago suburbs there was a sign posted that read, "No driving on the shoulder of the road." The sign itself wasn't funny, but I got tickled anyway. I said to Tim, "I guess they have some Indiana people driving over here and had to put up a sign."
Indiana drivers and roads are unique. Having moved here from a lifetime in Illinois, I noticed this phenomenon right away. It took a while to get used to it, but I have adapted. At least in our area, a suburb of Indy, no one seems to think that widening the road to at least four lanes seems to be necessary. It doesn't seem to matter that the roads are congested with traffic. No extra lanes are built. The transportation department merely creates bump outs.
I had never experienced a bump out before in Illinois. A bump out is a curved piece of road that looks like an elongated backward "c" on the right side of the road. The bump out occurs when there is a possibility of a left turn off the main road. Passing on the right in Indiana is the norm, at least where we live. The theory is that if you are making a left hand turn off a major road, the bump out will allow cars behind you to zoom past you on the right. It works fairly well, but honestly, we could use a few wider roads with more lanes.
I really don't mind the bump outs, I use them frequently. The only thing that really bugs me is that people will pass you on the right even if there isn't a bump out. They just zoom around on the shoulder of the road. Those drivers are scary, because sometimes the shoulder isn't all that wide and is right next to a deep ditch. YIKES! In fact, every time I drive to church there is a possibility that this little excitement will occur. There is no bump out for our left turn into the church parking lot.
I could see that at the location of the sign in Illinois there were nice wide blacktopped shoulders to the road. People from Indiana must surely drive in Illinois frequently and need a little reminder that not everyone drives like they're passing at the Indianapolis 500. Ya gotta love it!
Somewhere in the Chicago suburbs there was a sign posted that read, "No driving on the shoulder of the road." The sign itself wasn't funny, but I got tickled anyway. I said to Tim, "I guess they have some Indiana people driving over here and had to put up a sign."
Indiana drivers and roads are unique. Having moved here from a lifetime in Illinois, I noticed this phenomenon right away. It took a while to get used to it, but I have adapted. At least in our area, a suburb of Indy, no one seems to think that widening the road to at least four lanes seems to be necessary. It doesn't seem to matter that the roads are congested with traffic. No extra lanes are built. The transportation department merely creates bump outs.
I had never experienced a bump out before in Illinois. A bump out is a curved piece of road that looks like an elongated backward "c" on the right side of the road. The bump out occurs when there is a possibility of a left turn off the main road. Passing on the right in Indiana is the norm, at least where we live. The theory is that if you are making a left hand turn off a major road, the bump out will allow cars behind you to zoom past you on the right. It works fairly well, but honestly, we could use a few wider roads with more lanes.
I really don't mind the bump outs, I use them frequently. The only thing that really bugs me is that people will pass you on the right even if there isn't a bump out. They just zoom around on the shoulder of the road. Those drivers are scary, because sometimes the shoulder isn't all that wide and is right next to a deep ditch. YIKES! In fact, every time I drive to church there is a possibility that this little excitement will occur. There is no bump out for our left turn into the church parking lot.
I could see that at the location of the sign in Illinois there were nice wide blacktopped shoulders to the road. People from Indiana must surely drive in Illinois frequently and need a little reminder that not everyone drives like they're passing at the Indianapolis 500. Ya gotta love it!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
It's not easy bein' green in Central Indiana
Okay, for the sake of the environment and global warming I'm trying to be a little more green, but it ain't easy. I'm not sure where I come down on the issue of global warming etc., but I do think it's my job to dress, till, and keep the earth, so I'm trying to do my small part. It might be easier elsewhere, but in Central Indiana it's hard.
On TV they give you all those great suggestions about buying more green building materials and more efficient appliances, but let's face it, the majority of us are not building houses, remodeling constantly, or replacing appliances every few days. I'll keep those things in mind when the issues come up in my home, but I think the suggestions need to be more immediately practical.
I have bought the new light bulbs, and they're okay. Okay, unless you have to actually see them in a light fixture, and then they are just dumb looking. That's just my two cents worth. I'm dreading the day when my chandelier bulbs all need replacing with the new bulbs. I think the new bulbs for those are just horrible. Maybe I should stockpile a lifetime supply of those skinny old bulbs. I'm not too thrilled with the disposal methods of the new bulbs either. Even if I dispose of them correctly, I can't see that everyone will.
I also purchased and use those reusable shopping bags. I do like them. They hold a lot more than the wimpy plastic bags and they stand up and don't let the tomatoes roam free in the trunk. Plus, they are easier to fold up and put away in my opinion.
I have two problems with the "green" bags. Sometimes I forget to take the bags into the store. I get very annoyed with myself, because usually by the time I remember, I have a cart half-full of items. I am getting better at remembering to take them out of the trunk though. The biggest drawback to the bags is that where I live I seem to be the only one using them. I never see another person in the store carrying or using their own bags. It makes me feel weird, plus it takes longer at the checkout counter because the checker has to put your bags on the staging area and shove the regular bags out of the way. I feel like the people behind me are rolling their eyes at me behind my back. I will persevere, and maybe the idea will catch on as time goes on.
The other two areas that I think are ripe for the green process for the regular person are bottled water and disposable diapers. I rarely buy bottled water, unless I'm on a road trip or something. It just doesn't seem like a good use of my money. I think bottled water became a status symbol for a while. "Hey, look at me, I'm so flush with cash that I can buy my water in a plastic bottle, and then pitch it in the garbage." I use a filtered pitcher and a reusable water bottle. It tastes just as good and according to reports that I've read, tap water is a lot more regulated for quality than bottled water.
I probably shouldn't speculate on disposable diapers since my kids are long since out of that stage. I did use them when they were little, at least part of the time. Can you just imagine the mountains of disposable diapers buried in our landfills. Yuck! I am an offender on this one even now. When my adorable little grandkids come, I use and toss the little diapers with the best of them. If the diaper is especially odoriferous I even enclose it in it's own plastic bag before tossing it in a garbage can lined with another plastic bag. Centuries from now archaeologists will probably wonder at the way we have preserved "poo poo" in our century.
Not to discount driving less, etc., here are my practical suggestions: use the new light bulbs, nix the bottled water, forget the disposable diapers, and put yourself out there and use your reusable shopping bags for all the world to see.
On TV they give you all those great suggestions about buying more green building materials and more efficient appliances, but let's face it, the majority of us are not building houses, remodeling constantly, or replacing appliances every few days. I'll keep those things in mind when the issues come up in my home, but I think the suggestions need to be more immediately practical.
I have bought the new light bulbs, and they're okay. Okay, unless you have to actually see them in a light fixture, and then they are just dumb looking. That's just my two cents worth. I'm dreading the day when my chandelier bulbs all need replacing with the new bulbs. I think the new bulbs for those are just horrible. Maybe I should stockpile a lifetime supply of those skinny old bulbs. I'm not too thrilled with the disposal methods of the new bulbs either. Even if I dispose of them correctly, I can't see that everyone will.
I also purchased and use those reusable shopping bags. I do like them. They hold a lot more than the wimpy plastic bags and they stand up and don't let the tomatoes roam free in the trunk. Plus, they are easier to fold up and put away in my opinion.
I have two problems with the "green" bags. Sometimes I forget to take the bags into the store. I get very annoyed with myself, because usually by the time I remember, I have a cart half-full of items. I am getting better at remembering to take them out of the trunk though. The biggest drawback to the bags is that where I live I seem to be the only one using them. I never see another person in the store carrying or using their own bags. It makes me feel weird, plus it takes longer at the checkout counter because the checker has to put your bags on the staging area and shove the regular bags out of the way. I feel like the people behind me are rolling their eyes at me behind my back. I will persevere, and maybe the idea will catch on as time goes on.
The other two areas that I think are ripe for the green process for the regular person are bottled water and disposable diapers. I rarely buy bottled water, unless I'm on a road trip or something. It just doesn't seem like a good use of my money. I think bottled water became a status symbol for a while. "Hey, look at me, I'm so flush with cash that I can buy my water in a plastic bottle, and then pitch it in the garbage." I use a filtered pitcher and a reusable water bottle. It tastes just as good and according to reports that I've read, tap water is a lot more regulated for quality than bottled water.
I probably shouldn't speculate on disposable diapers since my kids are long since out of that stage. I did use them when they were little, at least part of the time. Can you just imagine the mountains of disposable diapers buried in our landfills. Yuck! I am an offender on this one even now. When my adorable little grandkids come, I use and toss the little diapers with the best of them. If the diaper is especially odoriferous I even enclose it in it's own plastic bag before tossing it in a garbage can lined with another plastic bag. Centuries from now archaeologists will probably wonder at the way we have preserved "poo poo" in our century.
Not to discount driving less, etc., here are my practical suggestions: use the new light bulbs, nix the bottled water, forget the disposable diapers, and put yourself out there and use your reusable shopping bags for all the world to see.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Wondering in the world of technology
I like computers. I use computers. I can operate the programs, and I'm not afraid to do so. Somewhere there is a disconnect between all that and understanding the real workings of the computer and other technology. Maybe it's my age bracket, but all the computer terminology is a bunch of background noise to me.
We've been shopping for a new computer lately. The old one went to meet its maker recently, or at least I wish it was back at DELL. Expensive equipment isn't supposed to just die in 3 1/2 years is it? On what other big ticket item are we supposed to shell out our hard earned cash and expect that it will be all over with in such a short time. Back in the day, it might have been the automobile. If you kept your car for three years that was a long time. Many people bought a new one yearly. Now, most cars aren't even paid off in three years.
Computer shopping left me wondering in this strange land. I'm wondering what is all this gig stuff about, how much do I need, how fast is it going to be etc, etc, etc? The bottom line is that I want something fast and reliable, something that won't explode in a big bang in the near future, and yet I won't be doing any film or music editing for the industry in the near future. Do you have something like that? It seems they do, but it's confusing. Honestly, when I go and look at TVs or computers do you know how I judge them? Strictly by the looks. You make it look good and I will buy it! Which is why I want the iMac. (I think that's the name.)
A few weeks ago my mom and I went shopping for a new flat screen TV for her. Her television from a decade ago or so died and she was watching a little 13 inch screen in her living room and complaining about it ever time I visited her. She did not really want a flat screen. They were just too expensive in her mind, but I persuaded her that they were about all she was going to find, and they weren't as expensive as they used to be.
Off we went to Best Buy. Tim and I had gone about the alien world of TVs a few years ago when the issue was plasma or LCD, their expense and all that jazz. That whole thing was so confusing that we ended up never replacing our broken TV and just using a smaller one in the family room that we already had. So, I knew a bit about TVs from that. I knew which brands I liked. I knew which size would look good and be appropriate for her viewing area. The price was good. The picture was amazing.
Then the sales people walked me over to a TV display wall to show me the benefits of having their service people come out and fine tune the color etc. WOW! it was stunning. Their service people could tone down the pinks, purples or whatever and really make the screen crystal clear. Since my mom was to have the TV delivered that might be a good thing.
Okay, how much will all this cost? So the TV with tax was under $700. Delivery charges and hauling away the old set, $60. Adjusting the set. . . $350, with $50 off if I paid for it upon purchase. I swear my jaw hit the ground. I was flabbergasted. Like I should be thrilled to have $25,000 worth of equipment sitting in mom's house adjusting the color. "Oh, and would you like the service plan, too?"
Uh, no thanks! "We'll take the TV and the delivery. Thank you very much!" I was left wondering, "Can't they make a $700 TV look decent right out of the box with maybe a few adjustments by the homeowner?" It's definitely an alien world out there for a 50+ year old.
We've been shopping for a new computer lately. The old one went to meet its maker recently, or at least I wish it was back at DELL. Expensive equipment isn't supposed to just die in 3 1/2 years is it? On what other big ticket item are we supposed to shell out our hard earned cash and expect that it will be all over with in such a short time. Back in the day, it might have been the automobile. If you kept your car for three years that was a long time. Many people bought a new one yearly. Now, most cars aren't even paid off in three years.
Computer shopping left me wondering in this strange land. I'm wondering what is all this gig stuff about, how much do I need, how fast is it going to be etc, etc, etc? The bottom line is that I want something fast and reliable, something that won't explode in a big bang in the near future, and yet I won't be doing any film or music editing for the industry in the near future. Do you have something like that? It seems they do, but it's confusing. Honestly, when I go and look at TVs or computers do you know how I judge them? Strictly by the looks. You make it look good and I will buy it! Which is why I want the iMac. (I think that's the name.)
A few weeks ago my mom and I went shopping for a new flat screen TV for her. Her television from a decade ago or so died and she was watching a little 13 inch screen in her living room and complaining about it ever time I visited her. She did not really want a flat screen. They were just too expensive in her mind, but I persuaded her that they were about all she was going to find, and they weren't as expensive as they used to be.
Off we went to Best Buy. Tim and I had gone about the alien world of TVs a few years ago when the issue was plasma or LCD, their expense and all that jazz. That whole thing was so confusing that we ended up never replacing our broken TV and just using a smaller one in the family room that we already had. So, I knew a bit about TVs from that. I knew which brands I liked. I knew which size would look good and be appropriate for her viewing area. The price was good. The picture was amazing.
Then the sales people walked me over to a TV display wall to show me the benefits of having their service people come out and fine tune the color etc. WOW! it was stunning. Their service people could tone down the pinks, purples or whatever and really make the screen crystal clear. Since my mom was to have the TV delivered that might be a good thing.
Okay, how much will all this cost? So the TV with tax was under $700. Delivery charges and hauling away the old set, $60. Adjusting the set. . . $350, with $50 off if I paid for it upon purchase. I swear my jaw hit the ground. I was flabbergasted. Like I should be thrilled to have $25,000 worth of equipment sitting in mom's house adjusting the color. "Oh, and would you like the service plan, too?"
Uh, no thanks! "We'll take the TV and the delivery. Thank you very much!" I was left wondering, "Can't they make a $700 TV look decent right out of the box with maybe a few adjustments by the homeowner?" It's definitely an alien world out there for a 50+ year old.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Isn't it cute
The first words off his lips were, "Isn't it cute?" Normally, I think of "cute" in terms of puppies, babies, the grandchildren or possibly a kitten. Although the latter thing would never be an utterance made by my husband, ever.
What was so cute? It is difficult to believe that a grown man would gush so over a motorcycle that is only a decade shy of his own age. But there you have it, Tim rolled out of one of our church member's garage on a little motorcycle.
It all began like this. On Sunday Tim came out after church and said, "What would you think if I got another motorcycle? Someone at church has offered me a free one." We've been down this road before. Of course the cycle is not running and hasn't for a least 20 years.
I've learned a few things about old motorcycles from Tim's previous restoration project.
1. Motorcycles that sit too long never are in working order and have a myriad of problems.
2. The motorcycle must be taken apart and spread over the entire shed, garage or whatever and cleaned, repaired, or pieces replaced.
3. While some of this restoration is fun, a lot of it is frustrating.
4. A free motorcycle is never free.
5. Thank heavens for a good motorcycle mechanic friend. (Residing in a different state.)
6. A motorcycle in pieces in a shed is one thing, but in the one-car side of the garage along with a bigger motorcycle friend, the lawn mower, wheelbarrow, work bench, freezer, saw and whatever else is a bit much.
Conclusion: "Why doesn't anyone ever give you a newer motorcycle in good working order? And "No I'm not thrilled about this newest motorcycle, our garage is just too small." I guess I'm ornery that way.
I knew as soon as he came rolling out on that motorcycle and made the cute statement it was all over. The motorcycle now sits where the wheelbarrow used to reside. I'm not sure how convenient it will be to dig out the wheelbarrow from the front of the garage when it comes time to use it.
I wouldn't want this to get back to my dear honey, but "yes" I thought the motorcycle was kind of cute. Now, I think I'll start campaigning for a new puppy. That would be cute for sure.
(Here's a peek at the new baby!)
What was so cute? It is difficult to believe that a grown man would gush so over a motorcycle that is only a decade shy of his own age. But there you have it, Tim rolled out of one of our church member's garage on a little motorcycle.
It all began like this. On Sunday Tim came out after church and said, "What would you think if I got another motorcycle? Someone at church has offered me a free one." We've been down this road before. Of course the cycle is not running and hasn't for a least 20 years.
I've learned a few things about old motorcycles from Tim's previous restoration project.
1. Motorcycles that sit too long never are in working order and have a myriad of problems.
2. The motorcycle must be taken apart and spread over the entire shed, garage or whatever and cleaned, repaired, or pieces replaced.
3. While some of this restoration is fun, a lot of it is frustrating.
4. A free motorcycle is never free.
5. Thank heavens for a good motorcycle mechanic friend. (Residing in a different state.)
6. A motorcycle in pieces in a shed is one thing, but in the one-car side of the garage along with a bigger motorcycle friend, the lawn mower, wheelbarrow, work bench, freezer, saw and whatever else is a bit much.
Conclusion: "Why doesn't anyone ever give you a newer motorcycle in good working order? And "No I'm not thrilled about this newest motorcycle, our garage is just too small." I guess I'm ornery that way.
I knew as soon as he came rolling out on that motorcycle and made the cute statement it was all over. The motorcycle now sits where the wheelbarrow used to reside. I'm not sure how convenient it will be to dig out the wheelbarrow from the front of the garage when it comes time to use it.
I wouldn't want this to get back to my dear honey, but "yes" I thought the motorcycle was kind of cute. Now, I think I'll start campaigning for a new puppy. That would be cute for sure.
(Here's a peek at the new baby!)
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Alarmed
Check into any hotel and you are apt to casually read the instructions on the back of the room door. Usually I do this in all hotel rooms we occupy. There you can find out the check out times and various information important to your hotel stay.
On a recent visit to Nashville, TN I happened to glance at the door instructions and read the phrase about locating the nearest fire door exit. Mentally, I said to myself, "yes, I need to do that." The thought flew through my mind and out the other side. I had many other important and exciting things to do on this trip. Chances are you never even really need to know where the fire door is located, but it is always good to know just in case.
The second night of our stay we were sleeping peacefully in our overcooled room when the smoke alarm went off in our room. That is the understatement of the year. Imagine the worst beeping buzzing noise your alarm clock can make and magnify the noise about 100%, and you'll get an idea of how loud and annoying the alarm was. Of course, that's a good thing when there is a fire. Add to the noise, the strobe light flashing on top of the alarm ought to wake a person from the dead. Tim woke up immediately and went to check the door handle. I'm embarrassed to say that I kept on sleeping. In my dreams I remember thinking, "I wish Tim would turn off his alarm clock. WHY didn't he remember to TURN IT OFF?!" I finally came to with Tim yelling, "Martha, you've got to get up."
The sound of the alarm was kinder in my dream. Fully awake it was difficult to think how anyone could sleep through the noise and light (and no, I had not been drinking.) The flashing light was confusing and led to both of us having headaches and the beginnings of a migrane in short order. . . light, dark, light, dark. . . until my eyes feel like they were going to explode. The whole effect was like waking up into a dream, very bad nightmare.
Now for the crucial test, I asked myself, "Where exactly are those stairs?" Now I really wanted to know. A panicky feeling set in as we realized we were in a strange hotel, during what we hoped was a fire drill, at three o'clock in the morning, and we had no idea how to get down from the fourth floor. We opened the door to look out. WHEW! No visible smoke. Thank heavens the fire door was located directly across from our room. We lucked out. Before taking the stairs, we met another guest who said the fire alarm was a false one. Remembering the 9/11 days when so many people stayed put in an unstable building, we ran down the fire stairway to check at the desk. Some drunk hockey player on the 7th floor had pulled the alarm (probably on a dare). Unfortunately, for him he was caught on video and the police would be waking him up out of a sound sleep the next morning. Retribution is sweet.
What was my most embarrassing moment? It is difficult to admit that I stopped to go to the bathroom before we left the room. What a boneheaded thing to do. Well almost as boneheaded as not knowing where the fire exit was located. Believe you me, I won't let that happen again.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Through the glass
Things that go bump in the night are sometimes scary. I had two bumps recently.
Not long ago I was trying to decide if I should make a trip to see my mom. She is not in the best of health. This should have been a very cut and dried decision, but I had just been there a couple of weeks before, so I was waffling. I'm a good waffler. Back and forth I went trying to make the right decision, but not really wanting to at the same time. Sometimes doing the right thing isn't easy.
I had promised my mom that I would come that week, but that was before the emergency first trip. Should I make 2 two and a half hour trips in 2 weeks? I went to bed without making any decision. That night I dreamed about my dad. He died over 10 years ago, and I have never once dreamed about him that I can remember.
In my dream a car drove up to the house and my mom stumbled out. Next to my amazement and joy, I saw my dad getting out of the car. He was like I remember him before he died. He was weak. Dad could barely get out of the car, and he leaned precariously on the side of the car to be able to stand at all. I was so happy to see him, but so shattered to see him in that condition. In my dream I rushed over to him and held him up in my arms. I said, "I love you, daddy." It was a heart stopping moment and so real in my dream. I woke immediately. At five o'clock in the morning my decision to go had been made.
Mom and I had a good time together. She doesn't get out much these days, unless someone takes her. We went to the movies, and she loved it. She said to me, "If you would come more often we could have such fun together." Why is it that moms can make you feel guilty even while you're trying to do the right thing?
That night I was late going to bed. Nothing new there. I had washed my face, and I was brushing my teeth. The next thing I knew I heard a loud horrendous crash. I looked down at the floor a few feet away and saw thousands of shards of glass littering the bathroom floor. What in the world happened? Then I looked up. The entire glass globe on the light fixture had fallen from the ceiling. Mom's house was built in the 1950's and this was no lightweight fixture. The glob was round with a flat bottom that was probably at least a half inch thick, if not more. The crazy thing fell right off the mount and shattered everywhere. I was glad I was not sitting on toilet or I would have been right at ground zero.
Was I supposed to go to my mom's that week? Maybe I am reading too much into it, but regardless that glass would have fallen and I just know my mom would have walked in the bathroom with her swollen bare feet in the middle of the night. That's just how she came out to see what in the world had happened. I spent a good half hour sweeping, vacuuming and searching for glass particles on the tile floor. Sometimes things that go bump in the night are just meant to be. I was so glad I went to my mom's.
Not long ago I was trying to decide if I should make a trip to see my mom. She is not in the best of health. This should have been a very cut and dried decision, but I had just been there a couple of weeks before, so I was waffling. I'm a good waffler. Back and forth I went trying to make the right decision, but not really wanting to at the same time. Sometimes doing the right thing isn't easy.
I had promised my mom that I would come that week, but that was before the emergency first trip. Should I make 2 two and a half hour trips in 2 weeks? I went to bed without making any decision. That night I dreamed about my dad. He died over 10 years ago, and I have never once dreamed about him that I can remember.
In my dream a car drove up to the house and my mom stumbled out. Next to my amazement and joy, I saw my dad getting out of the car. He was like I remember him before he died. He was weak. Dad could barely get out of the car, and he leaned precariously on the side of the car to be able to stand at all. I was so happy to see him, but so shattered to see him in that condition. In my dream I rushed over to him and held him up in my arms. I said, "I love you, daddy." It was a heart stopping moment and so real in my dream. I woke immediately. At five o'clock in the morning my decision to go had been made.
Mom and I had a good time together. She doesn't get out much these days, unless someone takes her. We went to the movies, and she loved it. She said to me, "If you would come more often we could have such fun together." Why is it that moms can make you feel guilty even while you're trying to do the right thing?
That night I was late going to bed. Nothing new there. I had washed my face, and I was brushing my teeth. The next thing I knew I heard a loud horrendous crash. I looked down at the floor a few feet away and saw thousands of shards of glass littering the bathroom floor. What in the world happened? Then I looked up. The entire glass globe on the light fixture had fallen from the ceiling. Mom's house was built in the 1950's and this was no lightweight fixture. The glob was round with a flat bottom that was probably at least a half inch thick, if not more. The crazy thing fell right off the mount and shattered everywhere. I was glad I was not sitting on toilet or I would have been right at ground zero.
Was I supposed to go to my mom's that week? Maybe I am reading too much into it, but regardless that glass would have fallen and I just know my mom would have walked in the bathroom with her swollen bare feet in the middle of the night. That's just how she came out to see what in the world had happened. I spent a good half hour sweeping, vacuuming and searching for glass particles on the tile floor. Sometimes things that go bump in the night are just meant to be. I was so glad I went to my mom's.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Driving the Gramma Car
Recently we had a boatload of company. The interesting thing about this company is that everyone was there the day before Tim and I were leaving to attend our son's wedding and afterward take a two week vacation. Nothing much different about this. All were family members and it was fun having everyone in our home.
Round 1 - Painful beginnings
The morning of the trip, we got up early thinking we would make a quick getaway with our caravan of cars. Tim's mom and dad always get up early, often before the crack of dawn. I came downstairs to learn that Tim's mom, MaryLou was in intense pain. We guessed a kidney stone. After a brief discussion involving the phrase, "I think I need to go home," we decided to take Tim's mom to the urgent care facility in our town. I guess the urgent care isn't so urgent since the office didn't open until 8 a.m. We talked about returning to urgent care at opening time, but Tim's mom decided to continue with the trip at the scheduled departure time. She'd just "tough it out." A commendable attitude, but very unsettling for everyone.
Round 2 - Disaster strikes at Steak 'n Shake
The trip began, and our little 3 car caravan had an uneventful trip to Columbus, OH, the lunch break. The red car in front with Tim and his mom and dad, our silver car in the middle carrying my mom and me, and our son Jon and his family bringing up the tail end. This trip would be easy-peasy. I'm not particularly fond of driving long distances, but it was working for me. We got off the interstate to eat lunch at Steak 'n Shake. I got out of the car, and turned around to watch my darling grandbabies run across the parking lot after being released from their strapped-in, buckled down car seats. How cute they were. I turned back around and the first thing I noticed was I didn't see my mom. I walked around the front of the car and there she was laying splat, face down on the sidewalk. The curb was extra high at the place we'd parked and she totally misjudged it. Blood was everywhere, not a good beginning for lunch.
Round 3 - Abandonment and treatment
Hoping to get everything taken care of quickly, we went to an urgent care facility in Columbus. No care there. The cut under mom's chin was too deep. Off we went to the emergency room of a nearby hospital. This was going to take awhile. Tim was the officiating pastor for the wedding, Tim's dad was also helping conduct the wedding, Jon and his kids were part of the wedding party and everyone had to be at the rehearsal at 6:00 p.m. We had miles to go to the wedding site. I suggested that everyone else go on and I would stay with mom at the emergency room. I secretly hoped that no one would actually think this was a good idea. It was a excellent idea, and a few tears later I was waving goodbye to the rest of my family. It felt like abandonment.
Tim's stalwart mom decided to stay behind with my mom and me at the hospital. So there I was with two woman who probably should have really been in the hospital and we were sitting in the emergency waiting room. Bless those hospital personnel, they fast-tracked my mom into a treatment room after hearing our story. The tests, x-rays, and stitches only took about 3 1/2 hours (without them rushing her through no telling how long we would have waited). While we languished in the treatment room, I watched some of those wacky judge shows with idiot defendants and plaintiffs on the overhead TV. I guess the hospital thinks maybe you'll be heartened that someone else's problems are crazier than you own.
Round 4 - Released into rush hour and driving the Gramma Car
We were released at 5 p.m., smack into Columbus rush hour. I don't like to drive long distances. . . I hate bumper to bumper traffic. . . I particularly don't like driving in places I've never driven before. These conditions reigned and I was driving the Gramma Car (Everyone in the car was a grandma.) Tim's mom got in the passenger's seat. My mom and her busted chin took the back. MaryLou proved to be an excellent navigator despite the pain. She is one tough (and I mean that in a good way), determined lady. I pray a lot when I drive in traffic. I prayed in Columbus, and was only honked at one time. We made it, made it late to the rehearsal dinner, but we did make it. I think it was due to God and MaryLou.
Round 5 - Losing the parents
If you are a teenager, losing the parents has a whole different meaning. You're on your own, free. Losing the parents when you're our age and our parents' ages is vastly different. The children are now the worried ones. Before the rehearsal dinner was over Tim's mom and dad decided to go on the hotel. The hotel was in another town, the turn-off was tricky, and Tim's parents got lost. When we arrived at the hotel at 10 p.m., we discovered that Mom and Dad Hughes had not yet arrived. We were in the rolling hills of eastern Ohio, peppered with little towns on county roads. Could this day get any worse? Tim set out driving trying to locate Mom and Dad. He did, but of course they didn't recognise him or his car in the dark. Somehow, they all managed to make it back to the hotel before midnight.
The wedding took place the next day, with a power outage at the church. No air conditioning, dim lighting, and only the sound system was working. The bride and groom were radiant. The reception was fun.
THE END
Round 1 - Painful beginnings
The morning of the trip, we got up early thinking we would make a quick getaway with our caravan of cars. Tim's mom and dad always get up early, often before the crack of dawn. I came downstairs to learn that Tim's mom, MaryLou was in intense pain. We guessed a kidney stone. After a brief discussion involving the phrase, "I think I need to go home," we decided to take Tim's mom to the urgent care facility in our town. I guess the urgent care isn't so urgent since the office didn't open until 8 a.m. We talked about returning to urgent care at opening time, but Tim's mom decided to continue with the trip at the scheduled departure time. She'd just "tough it out." A commendable attitude, but very unsettling for everyone.
Round 2 - Disaster strikes at Steak 'n Shake
The trip began, and our little 3 car caravan had an uneventful trip to Columbus, OH, the lunch break. The red car in front with Tim and his mom and dad, our silver car in the middle carrying my mom and me, and our son Jon and his family bringing up the tail end. This trip would be easy-peasy. I'm not particularly fond of driving long distances, but it was working for me. We got off the interstate to eat lunch at Steak 'n Shake. I got out of the car, and turned around to watch my darling grandbabies run across the parking lot after being released from their strapped-in, buckled down car seats. How cute they were. I turned back around and the first thing I noticed was I didn't see my mom. I walked around the front of the car and there she was laying splat, face down on the sidewalk. The curb was extra high at the place we'd parked and she totally misjudged it. Blood was everywhere, not a good beginning for lunch.
Round 3 - Abandonment and treatment
Hoping to get everything taken care of quickly, we went to an urgent care facility in Columbus. No care there. The cut under mom's chin was too deep. Off we went to the emergency room of a nearby hospital. This was going to take awhile. Tim was the officiating pastor for the wedding, Tim's dad was also helping conduct the wedding, Jon and his kids were part of the wedding party and everyone had to be at the rehearsal at 6:00 p.m. We had miles to go to the wedding site. I suggested that everyone else go on and I would stay with mom at the emergency room. I secretly hoped that no one would actually think this was a good idea. It was a excellent idea, and a few tears later I was waving goodbye to the rest of my family. It felt like abandonment.
Tim's stalwart mom decided to stay behind with my mom and me at the hospital. So there I was with two woman who probably should have really been in the hospital and we were sitting in the emergency waiting room. Bless those hospital personnel, they fast-tracked my mom into a treatment room after hearing our story. The tests, x-rays, and stitches only took about 3 1/2 hours (without them rushing her through no telling how long we would have waited). While we languished in the treatment room, I watched some of those wacky judge shows with idiot defendants and plaintiffs on the overhead TV. I guess the hospital thinks maybe you'll be heartened that someone else's problems are crazier than you own.
Round 4 - Released into rush hour and driving the Gramma Car
We were released at 5 p.m., smack into Columbus rush hour. I don't like to drive long distances. . . I hate bumper to bumper traffic. . . I particularly don't like driving in places I've never driven before. These conditions reigned and I was driving the Gramma Car (Everyone in the car was a grandma.) Tim's mom got in the passenger's seat. My mom and her busted chin took the back. MaryLou proved to be an excellent navigator despite the pain. She is one tough (and I mean that in a good way), determined lady. I pray a lot when I drive in traffic. I prayed in Columbus, and was only honked at one time. We made it, made it late to the rehearsal dinner, but we did make it. I think it was due to God and MaryLou.
Round 5 - Losing the parents
If you are a teenager, losing the parents has a whole different meaning. You're on your own, free. Losing the parents when you're our age and our parents' ages is vastly different. The children are now the worried ones. Before the rehearsal dinner was over Tim's mom and dad decided to go on the hotel. The hotel was in another town, the turn-off was tricky, and Tim's parents got lost. When we arrived at the hotel at 10 p.m., we discovered that Mom and Dad Hughes had not yet arrived. We were in the rolling hills of eastern Ohio, peppered with little towns on county roads. Could this day get any worse? Tim set out driving trying to locate Mom and Dad. He did, but of course they didn't recognise him or his car in the dark. Somehow, they all managed to make it back to the hotel before midnight.
The wedding took place the next day, with a power outage at the church. No air conditioning, dim lighting, and only the sound system was working. The bride and groom were radiant. The reception was fun.
THE END
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Seeing The Future of Shoedom
I've seen the future and it's not pretty. I'm not talking about the future of the country or politics, but the future of... well probably me. A few weeks ago I took my 81 year old mother to the mall. We were shopping for the basic essential element in a woman's wardrobe, a pair of shoes.
Shoes are the most wonderful accessory. No matter your dress size, your jean size, or even your cholesterol number you can almost always find a pair of shoes to fit that you like. I appreciate this fact the older I get. Can't wear that poofy baby doll top? No problem, I can always find a pair of shoes. I could literally get a new pair with every shopping trip, but I don't. I just plain like shoes, and still regret that I did not get those majorette boots when I was a kid. Oh, I did want those.
So there we were at the mall trying to find my mom a pair of shoes. We weren't looking for just anything. We were searching for a pair of dressy shoes for her to wear to my son's wedding. In my naivete I thought this would be an easy task with all those nice flats in style this spring. Think again! Adding to the fact that her feet are swollen, her toes point at odd angles these days, she wants no part of her toes to show, and she's unsteady on her feet this was no easy task.
What has happened to all the nice older women's dress shoes? Back in the day older women had that "look" in shoe styles. Low heel granny tie-ons or nice low pumps with a strap across the top. I can clearly recall my own grandmother with these types of shoes. Absolutely, nothing at the mall that could be called dressy that my mom could wear and walk in with confidence, and not fear falling down. We ended up with a pair of rather casual flats that were made to be worn with slacks with a bit of tooling on the top. That's the best we could do.
So. . .I guess that's the (my) future in shoedom and it's just not pretty!
Shoes are the most wonderful accessory. No matter your dress size, your jean size, or even your cholesterol number you can almost always find a pair of shoes to fit that you like. I appreciate this fact the older I get. Can't wear that poofy baby doll top? No problem, I can always find a pair of shoes. I could literally get a new pair with every shopping trip, but I don't. I just plain like shoes, and still regret that I did not get those majorette boots when I was a kid. Oh, I did want those.
So there we were at the mall trying to find my mom a pair of shoes. We weren't looking for just anything. We were searching for a pair of dressy shoes for her to wear to my son's wedding. In my naivete I thought this would be an easy task with all those nice flats in style this spring. Think again! Adding to the fact that her feet are swollen, her toes point at odd angles these days, she wants no part of her toes to show, and she's unsteady on her feet this was no easy task.
What has happened to all the nice older women's dress shoes? Back in the day older women had that "look" in shoe styles. Low heel granny tie-ons or nice low pumps with a strap across the top. I can clearly recall my own grandmother with these types of shoes. Absolutely, nothing at the mall that could be called dressy that my mom could wear and walk in with confidence, and not fear falling down. We ended up with a pair of rather casual flats that were made to be worn with slacks with a bit of tooling on the top. That's the best we could do.
So. . .I guess that's the (my) future in shoedom and it's just not pretty!
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