Under Questioning

Audri is asking Aunt Traci why Uncle Craig is playing with her duckie . . .

Willing and Able

Morghan Grace LOVES babies . . . and I know just how she feels. I was the same way. Morghan is willing to help Audrianna in any way -- changing diapers, giving her a bottle or feeding her baby food. Morghan is going to be a great babysitter in a year or two.

And Audrianna lets Morghan do . . . whatever is needed.

Egg Hunt

It took some doing, getting all the little ones together for an egg hunt so it was Saturday evening and chilly outside. We hunted eggs in the living room. I had gotten jelly beans, mainly, as they are durable. I remembered previous Easters when the eggs got hidden and rehidden. Seems the best part is looking for the eggs. So 5 little ones looked for eggs, found them and then took turns hiding them all over the house. We may find Jelly Beans 'til August . . . but they had fun hiding them and finding them. Here are Jack and Joey "looking"

. . . oh hey. That is a big ol' orb in there . . . that's not an Easter Egg!

Silly

I love Silly (silly little girls . . . and boys!)

Gramma's Recipe

The bottom pan is how they start out and the top rack is how they end up.

And this is how you eat them . . . with whipped cream and bananas. umm mmmm!

Make these Cream Puffs at least once a year -- preferably at Easter!

Cream Puffs

1/2 Cup butter (or oleo)

1 Cup sifted flour -- don't skip the sifting part this time!

1/4 tsp salt. Measure it and put it in cup with the flour.

4 eggs (or if they are jumbo, or extra large, you can just use 3 eggs)

1 Cup water

Use a heavy saucepan if you have one -- otherwise, any sauce pan quart size or larger.

Melt butter in 1 cup of boiling water.

Add the flour and salt all at once.

Stir vigorously. Don't quit now! Keep on medium heat and stir a little longer.

Cook and stir until the mixture forms a ball that doesn't separate.

It doesn't have to stay all of a piece but should mainly follow your spoon around the pan.

Remove from heat and cool slightly. Just go throw the egg shells in the garden, wipe the counter top and put the flour sifter away. It doesn't have to cool very long.

Add the eggs, one at a time, beating after each egg until the pastry is smooth.

Drop by heaping tablespoons onto a greased cookie sheet, 3 inches apart.

With a little practice, you'll know how heaping to make the Puffs and will end up with all 12 on one cookie sheet.

I think the secret to a big Puff is be gentle. Just dip a heaping tablespoon and gently coax it onto the cookie sheet. Don't add to it or take any dough away -- don't adjust the size! Just live with it! Practice making them all one size.

Make sure the oven has preheated, then . . . Bake at 450 degrees for 25 minutes.

Turn the oven down to 325 and bake another 20 or so.

Don't bang the oven door shut and don't do the Highland Fling in the kitchen for this next hour. After that you can clog whenever you want.

When nicely browned all over, take them out of the oven. Some recipes say to split the cream puffs now to let them dry but Gramma didn't and I won't either.

So split one when you can't wait any longer or when you have the cream whipped. Fill with vanilla pudding or whipped cream or whipped cream with sliced bananas. Himself says they are good just stuffed with a little jelly but I am pretty sure I want mine with whipped cream and bananas.

And if you knew my mother-in-law, you won't make these lovely creations without thinking of a lovely lady.

This has to rest 10 minutes

I made wheat bread again this weekend. Its flavor is less bold than last week's recipe but may be more palatable to Himself. However, after making this week's recipe, I found another recipe that one person claimed was the "Holy Grail" of whole wheat bread. I have one more recipe to try . . .

Marlboro Man

Marlboro Man; that was what hit my brain when I looked out today and saw Himself in silhouette. There he stood. Antsy. Waiting for spring, warm weather, gardening.


There are strange things going on in this photo -- but they are NOT supernatural ????? I took it through the two panes of glass in the patio door.


PS: yes, I am sure that "Marlboro Man" came to mind so quickly due to reading "Confessions of a Pioneer Woman" every day (who really isn't . . . a Pioneer Woman but she is very entertaining anyway).

And then there were Four.

Kristy, Erica, Craig and Johanna

Photo by Ma

I think Granny was slowing down and couldn't get all four of you in a picture!

Then there was four!

Johanna Rae

Photo by Granny

Then there were three

Kristy, Erica and Craig

Photo by Granny

Then there were three

Craig Dale

Photo by Granny

Then there were two

Kristy and 3 day old Erica

Photo by Granny

Then there were two

Erica Jo

Photo by Granny

First there was one

Kristy Noel

Photo by Granny.

Granny's school art

To think this piece of paper is 75 years old, or almost. I can't even begin to guess what grade Granny would have been in when she made it but there is her name at the bottom, Janice C. I think it was probably elemetary school, don't you? So this fine piece of art was made somewhere around 1930, give or take a few years. Granny was born February 8, 1920. You can remember 1920 if you know I was born in 1950 when Granny was 30! :)

To think that Granny's mother, my Granny Coe, protected this school project and then Granny kept it safe (how?!?!) from nine children for 50+ years. That knocks my socks off!

I love the daffadils. I love having it for a little while. I will take it back when we sort the rest of Granny's life.

A Year in Review Too

This is an after-dinner wrestling romp. Men! They love this stuff!

A Year in Review

This was last Easter dinner day. The picture is dated April 15 and I don't remember if we had Easter Dinner on Easter Sunday or a week early or a week late but whenever it was, it was a whole month later than this Easter. I saw an article somewhere that said this Easter is the the 2nd earliest it can ever be.

These girls had a good time, tho, didn't they?

Old Fashioned Day

I aimed to make wheat bread today. I had the wheat flour on hand as I've been wanting to make some. Then I happened upon a muffin recipe someone had sent me in a recipe exchange that called for wheat flour. So I made these "no white flour/no sugar" muffins.

I used Gramma Hof's old bowl and her mother's hand-shaped wooden spoon and mixed the batter up by hand. The bowl might have been Gramma Sychra's before it was Gramma Hof's. I'm not sure.

I did make the wheat bread too.

The muffins have blue, black and "rasp" berries in them and were sweetened with honey.

I love Gramma's crock bowl, don't you?

While cleaning out Granny's house, this lamp came up for discussion and no one wanted it. I brought it home.

This is the lamp Gramps found to sit on his hand made, home-sawn walnut, rolltop desk. When I brought it home, it was just an old, almost rusty, cast iron lamp.

I took some copper acrylic paint and some brown acrylic and did a little creative mix on this old 1930's (1920's?) lamp. Now it brightens my days.

Gramma's comforter, in between

In between cleaning cupboards, chipping ice off the driveway (because I am determined that winter is on its way out and I am going to prove it by having an ice-free driveway) and caring for little Audri while her Mama worked today, I sewed on this old comforter some more.

When I started it, I had thought to do all the mending by hand. It was to be an exercise in darning and mending from the olden days. I wanted it to look as tho it has been mended and darned over a period of years.

Once I got started and found the fabric so fragile and worn, I gave up the idea of doing it by hand and I have sewn and patched and mended on the machine half the winter, it seems. Actually, I work on it, get discouraged and lay it aside, then work on it some more. Tomorrow, I will finish the binding. I might put on two more small patches and then, that is it!

I have two more old comforters to shore up -- and spring is a coming. Time is short.

The beautiful carving

is what makes the kitchen cabinets so hard to clean.

One Third Done, maybe

Even though my "to do" pile is still sitting there, admonishing me to get busy, I have left it this weekend in favor of cleaning the outside of my kitchen cupboards. It has probably been twice as long as I think it has -- that they have been cleaned and oiled. And I am ashamed to say how long I think it has been.

Johanna helped me scrub them down this week and today, I took the oil and rubbed and buffed and the lower cabinets are done! They look nice. And clean!

Now there are just the uppers to do . . . and the 24 little, high cupboards that make the circle at the top. They will be easier to clean (less grease and food to remove) but there are so many of them!

I have to get this Spring Cleaning done because, as you know, come Spring Missouri will be calling.

To Do

After meeting at Mary's house and going through Granny's personal items, I have expanded my already long over due and never ending "to do" list. We each went away from Mary's with our own photos and those of our children. There were also a billion papers, old letters, cards, records and anything else you might name. We were able to shred/dispose of a lot but we all took a good size box home.

However, what was left there (photos with more than one family, old sentimental family things) will take us another whole day to sort.

Meanwhile, this stack calls me one minute and irritates me the next. I will just have to take it one piece at a time.

Little Girl's Burden

Mama's Boy

It looks as though Craig had a full head of hair and I think I remember he did have more than the girls but I'm sure he rubbed it all off the back of his head and had to start all over again.

I think he had a hippy Mama!?!

New Born Son

Craig was so cute! He weighed 8 lb so he was a little chubby!
Doesn't his Dad look young in this photo?

Craig Dale's Birth Day

February 3, 1976. I was at work but had a doctor's appointment in the afternoon. Kristy Noel, age 4 yr and a couple of months, and Erica Jo, a month shy of 3 years, were at Pat's, the babysitter. I was due in about 8 days so I wasn't too anxious yet about the arrival of the baby. Although, I did remember Erica's quick arrival so if I stopped to think about it, I might have breathed a little harder for a bit. On the other hand, I thought, if I would wait long enough I might have this babe at home. If this baby came any quicker than Erica Jo, I might not have time to get to the hospital. Wishful thinking!

So I went to my doctor's appointment and the doctor (Wiedemier or Youngblade, don't remember which) said you are dilated. Go to the hospital now. (He must have had notes on Erica's quick arrival!) I said "can't". I have to go home and see my Girls and get my suitcase. I want you to go now. Sorry, have to see my Girls. After a bit of a discussion, he allowed I could do those things but be at the hospital by 5:00 p.m. So, I stopped back by work and told my co-workers and called Lanny and asked him to meet me at home. Then I went to Pat's and talked to my babies and reminded them of the new brother or sister they would soon be able to see and hold. After hugs and kisses, I went on home to get my suitcase.

It was a pretty mild day for February when Lanny and I made our third trip to St. Lukes. There was no trouble getting to the hospital. Once again, it was late afternoon as we made our way down 14th Street to the middle of town and checked in at the hospital. We were ushered into the labor room where all the preliminairy checks and measurements were gotten out of the way.

In those days, they put the expectant mother on a guerney and wheeled her down a story or to the cold, cold delivery room. Was the theory that germs won't grow in an ice cold room? or was it just for the convenience of the doctors and nurses, gowned to the teeth? No blanket, dressed only in hospital gown and laying on a slightly padded delivery table. Always, with me, the first rite of business was to break the water which almost always brought on the final stage of labor and in this babe's case, it was no different. Labor was hard and quick and after a short hard labor, there he was, beautiful, tow head baby boy, laying on my chest. His daddy was in the waiting room.

The nurses swaddled Baby up and took him across the room. I knew that they would circumcise him while we were still in the delivery room. Done, they again gave the babe to me to embrace but wait! the poor babe was bleeding from both ends! He had blood trickling out his mouth! What's wrong? Oh, the doctor said, I clipped his tongue. "Nothing serious." What a relief but . . . poor babe, this had been a rough day!

Daddy was in the hall and was to get a glimpse of his new son before they wheeled us off to the nursery and recovery room. Unfortunately, as he was admiring the 8 lb 3 oz bouncing boy, the nurse came by and, noticing my palor or other evidence, whipped the sheet off me and called for supplies to stauch some heavy blood flow. Himself, caught unawares, immediately turned more pale than his wife. His eyes rolled in his head and he swayed unsteadily on his feet. Fearing he was going to fall atop the gurney onto me and his new son, I interrupted the nurse tending me to tend my husband! They got him down, with his head low and maybe smelling salts, and soon he was revived and strong again.

Later, in our room, these new parents examined minutely their new son. He did sport one birth mark but it was small and faint and he'd probably outgrow it. Mama, of course, supposed he looked like this family member or that one and his father said "He looks just like Craig Dale".

So babe and Mama recovered nicely for a couple of days while mother and father debated names and wondered if we would ever decide on something other than Baby Boy Hofmeister. Finally, filling out the papers we proudly named our new son, Craig Dale Hofmeister. Craig, because it was a nicely masculine sound and Dale after his Grandpa, Lanny's dad. I hope Craig likes his name because he might have been Eric Vaughan Hofmeister!

Little sisters couldn't visit the hospital in those days and Gramps and Granny came to care for the little girls. Mama couldn't WAIT to get home to them and to introduce them to their new brother, Craig. At home, the girls fell in love with him and wanted to hold him, give him a bottle and kiss and hug him. As winter moved to spring, I would load three babies onto the stroller and walked each day for fresh air and exercise (my Dr. Spock baby care book, always near). We played in the park, went to children's hour at the neighborhood library and met and visited with neighbors. I was now, a stay at home Mom with three beautiful children and I enjoyed every minute of it!

Ground Hog Special

We really got this snow today, February 3, not yesterday
but I liked the sound of "Ground Hog Special". We were to
only get a bit of snow, maybe an inch. We got 4" at least.
It is pretty and it won't last long but what else might be served
up for Winter before Spring gets here?

There's an old saying, "Early Easter, Early Spring".
I like that saying. Easter is really early this year.

I'm Hungry!

This little fellow at Twin Lake, was singing for his dinner.

Redbuds @ Red Haw

Red Haw State Park in Lucas County, Iowa near Chariton, is beautiful when the Redbud Trees are blooming, which is usually in April. We have Redbud trees coming up in our little timber in Missouri but have not been there at the right time to see them bloom. Eventually, the little Redbuds may escape into our timber as these have done, and run rampant!

One Man's trash

turned into one Man's art.

In Galena, IL, if you ever find yourself there, this man has a large yard full of BIG home-style art.

My kind of recycling!

Home Made

I'm sorting photos this weekend.
I'm just adding favorites.
This was from our harvest in 2006.
Aren't they pretty?

Foresight and Faith

About 1963, Gramps and Granny built a new house in Afton. They had sold Austin Auto Parts and were going into the house construction business. So, first, Gramps built the "Green House", sort of a show case for what he could do. Advertisement. And of course, he needed a home for his wife and last four children!

Meanwhile, my nature loving Mama, ordered her a bunch of lilacs and the folks planted them all along the north edge of the yard, lining the alley. Soon, the neighbor to the west lined his yard and the neighbor, east, across the street, planted a row. This small street in Afton, IA is glorious during lilac time!

Every spring, I drive Mama by the Greenhouse while the lilacs bloom and remind her that she and Gramps planted them. We did? she says. And each spring I am thankful my Mama had the faith and the foresight to plant the lilacs.

A Rambling Town

This is downtown Champaign, I think. Champaign or Urbana. They run into each other. Last Fall, Himself and I had just breakfasted with Kristy and Tony. They got in their car and headed to work. Himself and I got in our car to head home but I said "WAIT!" I want to take a picture.

I have this photo where I periodically come across it and I like it each time I see it. I like it a lot! The pretty tree against the industrial looking wall. The iron railing. The leaves the same color as the boarded up windows. I think this photo might win a contest!

Winter bright spots

This is our yard. Two bright red cardinals in a black and white world. We had had ice the day before, the trees and plants shrouded in thick ice. This day, there were 3 pair of cardinals and 50 other birds at the backyard feeder to brighten our day. Himself keeps the feeders stocked which is the key to keeping the birds in our yard and not the neighbor's!

this photo borrowed from the internet. My hotbed is more narrow and longer and set right up against a concrete wall -- for thermal gain, I thought.

Next year, I will know I need something to heat the soil. Maybe I'll use it in the fall for one more radish crop or start in March to get a head start on peas. Forget January and February. I think organic is the way to garden and eat so I will be doing a lot more experimenting with food crops and production methods.

Pulled the Plug

My latest experiment was a hotbed against the south concrete wall of the house. Fall lingered on and winter came late so I sowed some seeds in the 30"X 48" little greenhouse, improvised with an old window and cast off lumber. With only solar heat during the day and a rug thrown over the glass at night, I babied the lettuce and radishes into January. They grew slowly but they stayed green and I kept telling myself that I learned just a bit more every day I kept them alive. Then in January it began to snow. The temperatures dropped. Artic air swooped in and sat. The January deep freeze was too much. One day this week, I went out and pulled the plug.

Comfort

It isn't even pretty but long ago when times were hard and winters long and cold, someone cut worn, heavy winter coats into strips and pieced them together into this "iron" comforter and lined it with a worn Navajo blanket. No blanket in the world is as warm as this one. With creativity and determination, our Lady of the Quilt cut and sewed dark strips into rhythm and symmetry.

The comforter warmed me as a child. As an adult, the work that went in to the quilt warms my heart and fires my imagination.

When I saved it from Mama's diminished household, the ties were breaking and the comforter thread-bare in places. Fragile. For six months it has moved around my house, room to different room, calling for the mending. Finally, tonight it is the sewing machine. Another step or two and it will be done, reinforced for another 50 years of warmth and comfort.

Video Clips

Yes! I like the video clips that I have finally learned how to put in. I will use that option more often, now, on my camera. If the clips below, look black or blank, just go ahead and double click on the start arrow. That should start the video clip. Have fun!

MORE! Rock n Roll

and one "behind the scenes" guy . . .

Rock n Roll Babies

Rock n Roll Children1

The first clip I took turned into a brawl with Morghan and Jack going all out. Seriously. On this one, they are just playing!

Maternal Instincts

At almost 88 years, Mama's memory is gone. Short term memory is almost non-existent. Long ago childhood memories are fading now too but sometimes long engrained habits come through. Saturday was one such day.

I plopped Audrianna on her lap and Great Granny relished holding, smelling and touching baby Audri. She checked her hands to see if baby was warm enough. She took the bottle to feed the little one but realized Audri was too interested in what was going on around her to eat. Mama reminded herself, Morghan Grace and me that you have to hold tight to a babe this size, they wiggle.

Mama knows these things after nine children, 24 grandchildren and 34 "greats" -- and baby Audri sensed it. She leaned back, relaxed and kicked one little leg.

Putting this segment behind

I am now clean for 4 months and I won't write about it anymore. Other people do bigger, better things. Give up bigger addictions. Climb higher mountains. Inspire more people. I will just, each month, focus on the next month's anniversary. Then, as the years go by, I will look towards the next year's anniverary.

1 hour

I have passed a milestone this past week. Three mornings of the past 5-day work week, I have not had a "cigarette" thought pass through my brain until I had been up out of bed for at least an hour. This is a break through as usually it is about 5 minutes from the time I get up until I think "cigarette".

To even go one hour first thing in the morning without thinking about the damn little critters is unthinkable!

News Flash

Great; just heard that the Chantix might be linked to a suicide or two. And I thought my black mood this past weekend was due to withdrawal from the Chantix and my week off my "Miracle Cream".


I said when I got the Chantix that it hadn't been on the market long enough -- I (or the scientists) really didn't know what side effects there might be but I had debated it and with sound mind, decided to take the chance. I was practically weaned off the Chantix and then this past weekend I struggled so on Saturday that finally I took a pill and another on Sunday, 1/2 on Monday. I set out 1/4 for today but haven't taken it.


As I have no intention of suicide, guess I will just quit those darn pills and be mean and rotten. Perhaps you remember in an earlier post (or maybe it was just in a letter to someone) I said, maybe I really am just mean and whiney, as a non-smoker. Guess we are going to have to find out.

For a non-smoker, you will be thinking, geesh, she's been quit for 3 months. Get over it. You'll think that bad habit should be all behind me. Wish it was . . .

if you don't smoke, never start, Love, Ma


PS: Uncle Dick told me if the day ever comes when they tell him "you have 2 years, or 6 mo. or whatever", he'll be smoking. And he's been quit for 10 or 15 years now.

Old Habits Die Hard

Here I am, on November 24, coming up on the three month anniversary of quitting smoking. For the past week I have been struggling a bit more than I had been, just at different, odd times. And I've been grumpier, or quicker to "flare", anyway. Just ask Lanny.

I think this is because I gave up the medicine a week to ten days ago. I believe the last vestiges of both the nicotine and the "quit smoking" drug have now been dredged from every last fat cell, nerve ending and brain receptor. With that huge ol' addiction gone, I just have to work on getting past all the old, long engrained habits. I just have to keep plugging away, one day at a time.

But I still carry the last of the quit smoking pills in my purse. Just in case . . .

My Watch

I babysat today, for Miss Audri Lu. I sang to her "Audri Lu" . . . to the tune of Mary Lou, way back when by Ricky Nelson. "Hello, Audri Lu, Goodbye heart" . . . well, it was cuter when it was just her and me. I remember Morghan Grace's song was, and still is, "Morghan Grace, you have the cutest little baby face" and if I work at it, I'll come up with the personal little songs for the other grandbabes.

I take the "watch" seriously, even enjoying every minute of the grandbaby time.

It is not just Audri, but started with Morghan Grace and continues down the line. I still sleep on the davenport when the Small Frey are here camped out on the livingroom floor. When the Little Hofs are at the cabin or when I'm in charge with Audri. I check them all when they are sleeping. Make them stir. I uncover Audri's little nose when she drags the blanket up over her head as she is want to do, and as I did for the other six before her.

When I take little ones to the Beach at Too, I sit with my back to the beach and count heads in the water. (I "feel" my mother in me, watching 9 of us at the beach -- no wonder we didn't get to swim very often!)

Mom's wayward words -- or way with words

My Mother always had a good vocabulary and was a good speller and ever since I can remember, she and Gramps always did crosswords puzzles. I was never sure why Granny got the morning crossword puzzle and Gramps the afternoon but that was the way it seemed to work. My mother's childhood was spent, of course, in a simpler time with draft horses and such and no cars much until she was half grown.

As a child, if one of us children would ask Mom how to spell a word, she would tell us "look it up". She thought we would remember it better next time, if we looked it up this time. Mom always read, had taken Latin for Pete's sake in high school (ancient? I thought so!)knew her geography and math.

Now, Mom, in a regular conversation struggles to find the word she wants or to put them together in the right order. This evening, tho, using a list of old fashioned words, Mom was able to define and explain. She told me what a sickle is and what is is used for, she described a horse's trace and not quite so sure of herself, the brace. She knows quite well what a furrow is and described something to me called a gang saw and a gang plow -- then corrected my pronunciation. Scythe, she said, is pronounced "sigthhh".

Thank God. Some things never change!

Things to be thankful for . . .

It has been two months, 60 days, since I last had a cigarette. I won't fib; there's been a few times I WOULD have had one if there was a cigarette laying around. Weekends at home are hard, sometimes, but I get a piece of gum and chew the daylights out of it for awhile. Don't know why weekends in Mo would be easier? I am taking 1/2 pill, or a quarter of the dosage so ain't doing too bad but know I need to start skipping a day here and there, with the meds.

I absolutely ate too much this weekend, what with birthday company (and cake) around. This afternoon, finally, I was feeling so . . . full . . . and guilty for eating too much and her Mama sick with fever and cold, I took little Miss out for a 30 minute run. (Not literally, but I walk fast.) That felt good but it will take a few days to get back to normal after all I have eaten.

It was GREAT, having daughters around and we shopped and galivanted and talked. Missed my son and family, of course, but will look forward to seeing them soon.

Testing, 1, 2, 3

Went out for a walk today and saw the co-worker out in her car having a cigarette so I went to talk to her. Told her I was testing myself. At first, I couldn't even smell the smoke but after visiting with her a bit (she is thinking about trying this "quit smoke" medicine I'm on) I did smell the smoke and it didn't smell good.

I mentally leaned back on my medicine for support -- but was relieved to know that the smell of the cigarette didn't make me want to go out and buy some.

37 days

I have not smoked for 37 days according to my "Get Quit" website and it told me that I have saved $74. Reckon if I hadn't had to pay for this "quit smoke" medicine I would have saved that much but as I did pay for it instead of my insurance company, I have at least saved $37 . . . and will save more, as time marches on.

There might have been a day or two on vacation that I would have smoked if I had had a cigarette but I didn't -- so I didn't! I am still clean!

Work related

Guess what! After pushing hard for two weeks and working overtime, I am CAUGHT UP at work! I even got my filing done and everything else -- except one last piece of mail that came in at quitting time.

Boy, that is a good feeling. It does not happen often at DHS and it will only last a week because while I am gone, the applications will still come in, the mail will arrive and the clients will call.

For one week though, I will put it all out of mind, enjoy my vacation and believe that I am "caught up"!

Reformed smoker

oh no! it is happening! when my sister quit smoking, she became almost obnoxious about smokers -- tried to tell me this and that and you'll be this and that, and blah, blah, blah! I wouldn't listen.

Now, although I have not said one word to a smoker (can hardly find one of those species anymore!) I see cigarette butts on the ground and think -- "what are you thinking, you smoker!" (mainly, honestly, I am thinking about the littering -- not the smoking.)

I smelled cigarette smoke today on my walk at break and it didn't really smell good. Didn't smell bad either. It didn't entice me.

3 weeks done

I'm only posting so as to keep track. Maybe I should just plan on tracking by the month now. I will always remember I quit on Linda's birthday and smoked my last one on Mary's so maybe the less said about it the better.

Anyway, still just taking 1/2 pill morning and evening and imagine it will be soon that I forget an evening dose. So, onward! One day at a time.

Week Three

September 6, 2007: 1 week, 6 days and 23 hours . . . but who's counting? Worrying (already!) about quitting the prescription in 9 weeks, I have started cutting my second, evening, pill in half just to see if I am okay with that. I have only taken half the second dose for three days now and have noticed no difference. Now I need to get my courage up to cut the morning pill in half.

It is fixing to storm here (I hope). The thunder rumbles closer and I see flashes of lightening off to the west. I am hoping for a good thunderstorm. Ah yes, here comes the rain.

September 10, 2007: have cut my morning pill in half the last two mornings so I am down to one pill, just divided into morning and evening. Last night, had a family thing come up and had to drive an hour and a half and, while driving, kept reminding myself that just a month ago, in the same situation, I would have been smoking every 30 minutes. So, I just sort of mourned the passing of the cigarette. Wasn't tempted to stop and buy any. Nothing like that.

Week Two

Friday, Day 8: one week and one day. It is going fine. Will spend the next four days in Missouri with family. I think I'll do okay. Did smell someone smoking a cigarette yesterday and the old trained brain starts to go there -- but I keep walking and yank it back.

Can't see beyond the end of my nose . . .

as my mother would tell me. I have been plenty self-absorbed this past week and it is time I came up for air. Quitting smoking isn't the end of the world and it certainly isn't the worst thing that could happen so it is time to let some of it go. For gosh sakes, I bought Dana's 35th year birthday card clear back in July and then let it sit on my counter while his birthday blew by! Dana's a hero tho, because when I send his card, I send Traci's -- so I get Traci's to her in time!

To cut myself a little slack, it was my weekend with Granny and I took her out for a ride both Saturday and Sunday and again tonight, as Tuesday is "my night". She is doing pretty good. She had "some behaviors" (the newest term for tantrums", I guess) right after the sisters came home from Alaska but I guess I have to say I expected that. Tonight when I picked Granny up, she no longer has the wheelchair. She is now using a walker! I check with an aide, and yes, that is right. Granny walked well to the Jeep, got in pretty gracefully and after the ride, out again. The walk back to the nursing home is up a slight incline so by the time she got back inside, she found the nearest chair and plopped down. Told me a couple of times she was out of breath . . . but let me go easier than the last few times. Told me to be careful going home . . . and goodnight.

Saturday as we took our ride, a little deer darted out in the road and even setting my brakes hard (and throwing my arm out in front of Granny -- old habits, you know!), I couldn't avoid the little thing. I moaned and groaned a bit and Granny sort of patted me and said, "you couldn't help it, Honey. you tried to stop". I guess in all my moments spent with my mother, I am just waiting for one of these, where her old self (soul) comes through.

Cigarette Free

Monday, Day4. We will be getting tired of "took pills, didn't smoke, blah blah" so I'll record things significant to me or habits I want to break. For instance, I have decided I'll continue taking my morning and afternoon breaks at work. I need to get up and "stir" especially if I want to keep my metabolism high -- and I do. So, I'll walk 8 -12 blocks each break. That should be about 10 minutes worth and that's all I need. And! I'll check out houses, yards and gardens while I exercise.

Getting ready to go outside tonight, I headed to the laundry room to put on my work clothes and as I walked down the hall, I patted my hip pocket. Old Habit! Got to quit that. I always checked my hip pocket for my lighter before I threw the jeans in the laundry. Not always, I guess, as I washed a few lighters in my time!

Tuesday, Day 5. Walked at morning break and found that I can walk a block a minute so I'll try to walk 8 blocks in the morning. For some reason, at afternoon break, I think I need to get back quicker (my day is running out and the work isn't done?) so I'll walk 5 or 6. A good day. A few deep breaths a time or two and more complicated, long, drawn out dreams that take forever and then I can't remember but bits and pieces! Let's hope my dreams are mourning my previous life with cigarettes (a long term relationship) and that I'll be done with all that when I come off the meds.

And this, from my On-Line Support "Plan", this is kind of exciting (the 2nd part): "It's also important to remember you're doing 2 huge things. First, you're ending a long-term relationship. Second, you're creating your new identity. That also won't happen in a day – though you're well on your way. So, cut yourself (some slack) . . . "

Wednesday, Day 6: no news is good news!

Thursday, Day 7: At 10 pm it will be 7 days without a cigarette. An uneventful day -- a few thoughts, a few relaxing breaths. And when I went out to walk, I left my purse at the office. I realized I don't need to carry my purse. Don't need the car keys to go sit in the car. Don't need a lighter and there are no cigarettes in there. Don't need the purse. Break one more habit.

A Blog within a Blog: Dialogue with an addict

Quitting cigarettes: I went for a physical and mammogram and had blood sugar and cholesterol blood work done. I am in great shape for a tough ol' broad (not quite the way the doctor phrased it, but close) so I ask for a prescription of Chantix, the new miracle pill that will block my nictotine receptors from enjoying the nictotine. In addition to the phsyiological addiction, I will have to change all my long engrained habits -- throw out all my routines and start over. I can smoke for 7 days and must quit on the 8th. Some folks have reported quitting before the 8th day. I have set my schedule so that the 8th day is Linda's birthday. I thought a day of signifance might be helpful.

Friday, Day 1: took one little pill. Directions say to take with a full glass of water. As I am not much into water, I use about 4 oz. A little later, I have a small burning in my belly. Maybe a full glass of water is 8 oz? or maybe the burning is just my imagination.

Day 2: took another little pill, along with the five vitamins I take but used a bigger glass of water. I think maybe I should eat before I take the little pill. I'll try that tomorrow. Meanwhile, I am trying to wait longer between cigarettes. I am trying to THINK about them and not just grab one up and smoke it. I am thinking about the habits I will need to change.

Day 3: still just taking one little pill but tomorrow, I work up to two, morning and evening. I think today that maybe the cigarettes aren't giving me such a "hit". A time or two I think I am just going through the motions of smoking -- or it is like smoking a really "ultralight" cigarette when you have to really inhale to get a good hit. I am making myself wait longer and I have made one new rule. I will not smoke at this computer anymore. I will have to get up and go to another room. Already, I have waited 30 minutes longer because I am at the computer and I am waiting to finish before I go have another cigarette.

Worries of a middle-aged, 40 year veteran who is going to give up cigarettes: 1) what will I do when I am worried, scared, sad. This old cigarette has always been there for me, like a good friend. 2) What if I put on weight? I am slender and healthy, my cholesterol is very good as well as my blood sugar. If I put on 10 or 20 pounds, will I be less healthy? I want to avoid diabetes . . . and I don't want to have to buy new clothes! 3) Now don't laugh -- but when will I rest? Somedays I go "at it" like a mad woman and have to make myself go sit down, take a break and smoke a cigarette (usually while at III in the midst of some project and sometimes while cleaning house). During the work week, the breaks are built in and automatic but without the call of the cigarette, will I work on through my break? Perhaps I'll have to turn to meditation or relaxation techniques. These worries seem rather silly but I want to try to think about every emotion and situation before I come face to face with it.

Monday, Day 4: today is the first day I take two of the little pills. Will take two, here on out for the rest of the 12 weeks, if I need them. I have found that if I take them directly after eating, with a nice glass of water, they don't bother me at all.

I did well, all day. From 6 a.m. until 6 p.m. I had just six cigarettes. I have had just two since, but it has been more of a struggle this evening. I make myself wait. I "do" just one more thing. Tomorrow, I think I may smoke the same number, but just smoke half of the cigarette. Then on Wednesday or Thursday, reduce the number of cigarettes again, by half.

Well, they didn't promise me it would be a piece of cake! And even tho my brain receptors are being blocked, I reckon I am still going to be withdrawing from nicotine so I might be in for some very creative dreams! And may I find the stamina and grit, to get this done.

Tuesday, Day 5: 2 pills, one morning and one evening. My day goes very well but I am all ready disciplined at work, one break every two hours. Now last evening, that was another matter. I struggled. And this evening, I am feeling the nicotine withdrawal. I feel mean. I told the better half, as he tried to help me with something, that he might just want to leave it to me. He understood -- and did.

I am finding that my deep breathing, relaxation techniques helps some and also, just get busy. (This morning, supposedly getting ready for work, I am cleaning out the drawers in the bathroom vanity!) Do one more thing before having that cigarette! And now I am not smoking the whole cigarette -- trying anyway, just to smoke half. This evening I took a giant step when I drove to Afton and didn't take the cigarettes along. A major breakthrough! Tomorrow I am going to have to make another and skip one of my breaks at work or give up the one before work. I have got to do it and it may as well be tomorrow as Friday. "Bear down, Nancy", as my highschool coach used to say!

Wednesday, Day 6: Two more pills and one day left to smoke. At 7:45 p.m., I have had only 4 cigarettes. The big step today was giving up the noon smoke. And I did it without too much ado. In its place (actually, I used to have a cigarette on the way to lunch and another one after lunch and often times half of another on my way back to work. (I call these cigarettes "maintenance" -- to stock up on the nicotine until break time). So, to have ZERO at lunch was really a big step. To do something positive in place of the negative, I will eat a banana on the way back to work. I have been having leg or foot cramps every night and I need the potassium but have not been good at eating the bananas.

Tomorrow tho, will be the telltale day. I think I am going to give up the FIRST cigarette of the day. I will not get one until the 10:00 AM break. Perhaps I should remind myself that my body can go all night with nicotine (I do not get up in the night to smoke) so it can all day without.

Tomorrow, I should be down to three, at the most -- because Friday, I won't have any. I am going to make those Grandbabes happy!

Thursday, Day 7: my guardian angel stepped in today to help me over a hurdle, I guess. All day, I had just had about a half of cigarette. I had a few puffs before work then 3 or 4 puffs at 10:30 break. At noon I didn't light up, just had my half banana on the way back to work. Back at work, I looked forward to 2:30 or 3:00 pm so I could take a break and go enjoy 3 or 4 more puffs on that short, untidy, little bit of a cigarette that I had saved in the car. But when I went out, it wasn't there! Looked everywhere -- all the time knowing I wouldn't find it. But looking got the floors cleaned up a bit, under my car seats, so I did accomplish something positive in place of those negative puffs I would have had. And sure enough, after a frantic few minutes and some deep, relaxation breaths, I was able to go back to work and finish out the day without a cigarette. Thanks, G.F!

Food is tasting really, really good in some cases and I reacted to the "stench" in my car when I got in it this afternoon. Of course, the windows had been rolled up and it was 90 degrees outside and humid, but I do think I am beginning to smell again.

I have made some plans for tomorrow, "D-Day". I'll go to work early, if I have to. I'll walk around the block at morning and afternoon break, opposite the direction I usually walk to my car. I will have my banana after lunch, on the way back to work. I need some plans for tomorrow evening, as the evenings are the hardest. I wonder if I should take the second pill a little earlier, so it kicks in quicker. Then I can always go to bed early, if it wears off! Oh, the trials and tribulations of a smoker!

After I quit smoking, will I still be a smoker -- just as a recovered alcoholic is always an alcoholic -- just not drinking?

With Himself encouraging (and staying out of my way when I'm feeling mean), my guardian angel on duty and my children and grandchildren all pulling for me, I am going to do this. I am going to quit and stay quit -- at least until I'm 80. I have promised myself that I can have a cigarette on my 80th birthday . . . oh, we smokers are a sorry lot . . .
Friday, Day 8. D Day. Quit Day. As of 10:00 p.m. last night and it now being 8:45 PM Friday, I have almost made it 24 hours without a cigarette. This has has not happened since about 7 or 8 years ago when I quit for 2 or 3 months after being hypnotised.
It would have been easy to sit down and smoke a cigarette at certain points in the day but I have to say that for most of the entire working day, it wasn't too hard. I walked at morning break. At lunch I don't have any trouble and at second break I ran to the Post Office to mail a package so that distracted me.
The first thought, of course, at 4:30 as I leave work, is of a cigarette but I get home and get busy helping with supper or as this evening, lay down and have a nap waiting for chicken to be delivered for supper, and I don't have much trouble. But from 6:30 until 9:30 or 10:00. That is trouble. Himself came up a little while ago and wanted to sympathize with me but I was not having it! Didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want touched! Didn't want looked at. Period.
I went outside, pulled weeds, chewed gum and came back in feeling a little better. If last evening and the evening before are indicators, I'll have another spell before my meds kick in or I somehow pass through the worst of the craving.
But as I told Lanny, I want to get through this day without even a puff as I DO NOT want to have to start over counting the hours I have been smokeless. I do not, will not, start over. I'm toughing it out.
Himself and my on-line "Get Quit" support plan both assure me it will get easier; each day will be easier. Okay. I hope they are telling me the truth.
Miss Morghan and Jack are going to be so proud of their Nana! (And Madeline, Gabrielle and Joey too, if they were a just a bit older.)
Saturday, Day 9. In a few minutes, I will not have had a cigarette for 48 hours. I had worried about today, the weekend. I am disciplined at work so to be home with no pressing case files to demand my attention nor need to give a full day's work for a day's pay, I had feared I might struggle more than on a week day. But I did okay. There were a few times I chewed a toothpick to smithereens but on the whole, it has been a good day. I met a friend at Afton for breakfast (a Smoker friend) then checked on Granny. I came back home and worked out in the cottage garden, redoing the whole thing and getting ready to lay pavers.
I went back to Afton after supper and took Granny out for a ride. We ended up in Greenfield. I'm not sure how that happened but we got ice cream at the Tiger Drive-in and then headed back home. When I got Granny back to the nursing home, she climbed out of the Jeep, took her sweater and thought she had put something under the front seat. I knew she didn't, but playing along, I checked and found a lone cigarette. I threw it in the cupholder and went on. On the way home, that cigarette made me a little nervous but I took a few deep breaths and knew that I wouldn't mess up my two-day nonsmoking record. It is still there but I will throw it away tomorrow. It doesn't really matter tho if I throw it away or not as there is almost a full pack of cigarettes on my china cabinet. And I want them there. It is like a challenge to me. Geez, I can't find the words to describe why I want them except to say that I am a very competitive person. It is like a contest now between me and them.
I have talked to Erica this evening, reinforcing my desire to hit 10 p.m. and be two days clean and if I keep babbling on, it will be 10 p.m. before I finish this. Anyway, I am very optimistic. Now that I have two days behind me, I am looking ahead to three days. For some reason, 3 seems to be a magic number to me. Will it be easier after Day 3? Have I read that somewhere? My computer says 10:01!!
Sunday, Day 10: In 10 minutes, it will have been three days since I quit smoking. I am crusing right along, usually, with not much difficulty. I have been chewing a toothpick a lot this weekend but I think it is because I anticipate a craving (after a meal, especially). Tomorrow, I will be back to work and no toothpick so I will test my theory.
Here is a weird thing. As I was working outside today, chewing a toothpick, I accidently touched my arm with the toothpick and I jumped! I jumped as tho it was a cigarette and it would burn. I did that more than once. So, the medicine is working to block the nicotine but the brain still remembers old habits. Geesh, that is so interesting to me! My brain remembers the pain of a cigarette burn . . . well, that is really more sad than interesting, isn't it?
I have been having very long (seemingly) convoluted dreams but I have not dreamed the old standard "quitting smoking" dream of smoking a cigarette. In the past, quitting, I would often wake myself up because I thought I was a lighting a cigarette in bed! Perhaps I am not having that dream because the medicine is blocking my brain.
So, not much change, nothing new; just continue to get through one day at a time. And may my brain soon forgot ALL the old smoking habits.
Monday, Day 11. I am going to move to a new entry. This one is too long and I think I want to count down from the Quit Day and not the start the medicine day. So, see you soon!

Youngsters . . .

Summer of 1976


All of us . . . youngsters! I think in this photo, we had had fun, we had played and laughed and enjoyed. But in the photo, it looks as tho we were all worn out, tired and hot. Poor tired babies. They had ran the park north of Afton on a hot July day, playing with cousins at an Austin reunion and were ready to go home.

Wedding Anniversary

Well, Himself and I celebrated our 37th wedding anniversary this week. I, as a 19-year-old, one month short of 20 years, never, for a moment, wondered about the years between our wedding and our 37th anniversary. At 19, one just thinks of the present. A young woman can’t imagine 37 years. I thought only of today, being “in love”, being held and taken care of. When you actually do it -- be married for 37 years -- there are a lot of other milestones in between the being held and being loved. There is the alarm clock going off to get you up for work. There is the grocery shopping, the meals to prepare, the dishes to be washed, and the laundry. The babes to be conceived and born. There are the differences in child rearing theories. There are arguments, fights, sulks and pouting. Negotiating and compromise. The sleepless nights and the sleep-deprived days. There are plenty of tears for a woman, and plenty of anger and frustration if you are a man. But somehow, somewhere within us, different degrees at different times, the ol’ man and I found a determination to keep on trying.

Looking back, we both could have been more accommodating. There could have been more patience, more forgiveness and more compassion. But when you are living it, it seems so much more compelling, more important, to be right, to be the “winner”. Now I know that is not so. Looking back, who is right and who is wrong is not that important. It is the doing, the being, the loving, the rearing, the time together, the laughs and the adventure.

Listen to me, children. Living, loving and laughing is what is really important. If I could pass on one thing to my dear children and precious grandchildren, it would be to live in the moment. Enjoy! Appreciate each day and cherish your spouse, your child, your friends.

Play! Enjoy! Sing! Have fun! Love, Mama/Nana

Audrianna

On June 26, I attended my 4th delivery of a grandbabe. I am so glad that my daughters let me be with them during the birth of their babes. It is a miracleous experience one never forgets. Two deliveries were fairly swift, with no unexpected turns along the way. Two deliveries took longer and did have surprises and some difficulties.

Jack Gibson decided to come into this world with his arm extended which slowed things down and caused his mother extra trouble and discomfort but of course, one look at the new babe and it was all worth the effort (I think! but I wasn't the one delivering him!)

Audrianna was a big baby and not quite room enough to make her entrance and had to be coaxed (aided with the vacumm). Her Mama pushed for four hours, nigh on to exhaustion. I was anxious and was afraid she wouldn't be able to have her. When the room filled up with extra delivery and nursery personnel, I climbed up on the davenport out of the way, closed my eyes and prayed for resolution. And at the first sounds of success, mentally joined the group again and watched as grandbabe #6 was born. Praise the Lord.  I even got to cut her cord.

You must have been a beautiful baby . . .

Probably Kristy's first time to hold her Sister, newborn, Erica Jo.

Kristy wasn't jealous of Erica although she would demand a little attention from me at times or more likely, go off to explore something while I was feeding the baby. Erica, thank goodness, was good and calm and just pretty much went with the flow.

Erica Jo's Happy Birth Day

Another perfect daugher! A matched set, I always thought. Erica Jo was welcomed home with open arms -- 3 pair!

Erica Jo's Birth Day

We loved having a first baby and decided we didn’t want to wait very long for the second. Lanny was looking for a boy, of course, but I thought two little girls would be perfect, especially if they were a year or so apart. Kristy was only about 6-months old when I suspected that Lanny and I were soon to have our wish. We was delighted and excited! . The second babe was due March 14, 1973. I continued to work at Postal Finance. That December and January was horribly cold and snowy, while I was pregnant with Erica. I fell once, in the icy parking lot at Walgreens shortly before Christmas. My feet went out from under me and I smacked hard on my bottom. It worried me but after a day or so, everything seemed to be okay and I quit worrying and other than the usual queesiness of the early months and a little heartburn, I had a nice, easy pregnancy and relished the thought of another babe.

While anxiously awaiting this babe's arrival, we talked with Kristy about getting a baby brother or a baby sister, trying to prepare her for the big event. Looking back, Kristy was just a babe herself and at 15 months, probably didn’t have much concept of what we were even talking about but she was interested in babies and hugged, kissed and rocked her baby dolls.

I had quit work, been off a week or so, and was enjoying time with Kristy and getting a few new clothes for the new babe and things done around the house. The three of us were still living in the upstairs apartment. On Friday, March 2, I marched up and down the long flight of outside steps and then, again down the basement stairs, lugging Kristy and a 9-month belly, and got the laundry all done.

Later, Kristy and I went and got groceries for the week. I felt that I had accomplished a lot on this Friday but while coming home and carrying the groceries in I realized that I had a back ache. A bad backache -- and it felt mighty familiar. I can’t remember that I called Lanny home from work. I think it was late enough in the day that I just waited for him to get there. I’m sure I was packing suitcases and getting things ready to go. Once I was convinced this was the real thing, I tried to call Kristy’s babysitter who was going to keep Kristy while the new babe came. But, the babysitter wasn’t home so we took Kristy across the street to the neighbor’s Weir and off we went to St. Luke’s Hospital.

The nurses took immediate charge of me and I was examined and put to bed, flat on my back again. The nurses were in a hurry and I noticed weren't doing the same prep job as when Kristy was born -- there was no razor involved -- and a bit of urgency. After finding that I was well dilated, the doctor broke my water and the next thing I knew they were wheeling me off to the same cold delivery room where the procedure was much the same as when Kristy was born --feet in the stirrups, arms strapped, probably. This time, however, we just got to the delivery room and the next thing I knew, without too much ado and much less trauma, I had my second perfect baby daughter.

The nurses told me afterward that they were discussing who might deliver the babe but Dr. Youngblade arrived in time to catch Erica Jo at 8:30 p.m. Our bonny babe weighed in at 7 # 3-1/2 oz and was 20 inches long. Her baby book reports that her hair seemed dark when she was born but soon turned blonde. Her father and I counted her toes, wrapped and unwrapped her and we (I) commented on who she looked like and her Dad, of course, said "she looks just like Erica Jo".

Erica never curled up in a ball like some babies. Her two little legs were always thrust out; she did things "her way". After she was born and I saw the position of her legs, I recognized the position of her in the womb.

Lanny and I oohed and aahed over the beautiful babe and counted fingers and toes. We wrapped and unwrapped her and marveled again at the miracle of birth. Again, I remember the time when Lanny went home, the nurses awayand I sat and cuddled my new babe. I held her on my chest and we looked into each other's eyes the longest time and I felt again the engulfing love of a mother for her new babe.

I recovered so nicely that the hospital released us on March 4th and I was ready to get home! Couldn't wait to introduce my "Girls" and to see Kristy's reaction to her new beautiful sister. Now, we were a family of four.

Erica was an easier babe or I was a more relaxed mother. Erica didn't have to be held at all times and learned to sit in her infant seat on the counter or table while I worked or cooked. Kristy loved her so much that when left on the davenport one afternoon, Kristy tried to scoop her out of the infant seat and they both ended up the floor. This was just the beginning of the many adventures of the "Sugar Babes".

Anticipation

December 1972: I was expecting another babe in March and full of sweet anticipation!

Expectancy: Sweet anticipation

Today, you don't "expect" you are just plain pregnant. When I was a child, I didn't even know what pregnant meant -- until I learned to read books beyond my years. It was whispered about by the women but even then, they probably said "expecting" or "in the family way". I was probably half grown before I ever heard the word said aloud.

Expectancy. I think that is such a descriptive word for being pregnant. After all, a lot of times you are expecting a baby. You are expecting a son or daughter. You are expecting (hoping/praying) the baby to be healthy and whole. Expectancy just plain describes the condition you are in for 9 months. Expecting nausea, heartburn, expecting to grow large with babe. Anticipating a little foot running up and down your ribs or stretching your tummy all lop sided as she stretches.

I suggest that we drop the word pregnant from our vocabulary and go back to a more gentle way of describing a miracle.

The Planets, (mis)aligned

It has been a sad day for this family. I think the Planets are all aligned in some sorrowful fashion for us today. We grieve for Kristy and Tony's loss even knowing that there will be another time, another babe.

For Johanna who is practically living out of a car in Des Moines. Her friend had to turn her away from the "manger" this evening, fearing the loss of her subsidized housing. I wanted to kidnap her and bring her home with me but knew I couldn't; shouldn't.

My Mama had a a very bad day at the nursing home (thank you Lord, for Mary, who was there to hold her). We remember our strong, logical, supportive Mother.

Himself, who never dreams, had vivid, complicated dreams last night. My day at work was disheartening; I took giant steps backward instead of forward. I had obstacles in my way all day and started calling it my Obstacle Day. Hannah and I thumbed our noses and laughed at them but they still occurred. I had a giant spider at a Wal-Mart in Des Moines, large obstructive machinery on the highways, a long wait in the check out lane and obstacles in the aisles.


I know that it will be better tomorrow and the day after that, and the next -- but for now, thank you, Lord, for the order of your days. I know the planets that will move to a more favorable position for this family,

Lord, behold our family here assembled

Give us peace, gaiety and the quiet mind

Soften us to our friends,

Strengthen us in our enemies,

That we may be brave in peril,

Constant in all changes of fortune,

And that down to the gates of death,

We may be loyal and love one another.

Love, Nance

Jackie's lament

Death seems such a waste to this woman, especially when it comes too soon. A young mother, with three children that need her, a husband. Her mother, brother and sister. A father. Gone in a split second in a horrific car accident. And all the good wishes and positive thoughts and promises to God, won't undo it. One is so helpless in the face of death.

However, a woman's reaction to death, I think, is different than that of a man. A woman, wanting to counteract the negative action, goes to work. She thinks about food for the family. Bake something, make something, do something, offer something, create something. Hug someone, console someone.

This evening, in reaction to the grim news, I picked up the sewing I started two months ago and hadn't got done. I whipped out a blanket and finished 4 bibs that had just been waiting for finishing touches, and christened them with tears.