My Mom was one smart cookie. Not just book learning smart but smart in the ways of people. And she was imaginative.
For instance, when she was in her late 60s early 70s, she went to the dentist with what she thought was a toothache.
"Mrs. Edwards, your teeth really need to be pulled. You would be better off, healthier, with dentures."
After a long consultation, Mom decided to get dentures.
Mom wasn't worried about having her teeth pulled or the pain associated with new dentures. She was worried, though, about the dentist's offhand remark to "...not be surprised if your dentures fall out the first few times you try to talk or eat. Your gums need to toughen up. Until that happens, just expect your dentures to fall out and don't get upset. It'll pass."
This bothered Mom. She didn't want to have her teeth fall out while she was talking or eating. This was a side effect of getting dentures that she did not want to experience.
So...Mom being Mom, she "pondered" about this. Mom went home, but she wasn't happy.
"What am I going to do about this? The dr. says I need my teeth pulled but that the dentures will fall out and I just have to get used to it."
"I'm not going to have my teeth falling out any old time they want to."
"How can I prevent this?"
"If I use paraffin and make an impression of my gums, like the dentist did, when the paraffin hardens it would be like my dentures."
"Might work."
"I'll try it."
So, she went to the grocery, bought paraffin, and made her "fake dentures" (I don't know what else to call them.)
Mom was taught at an early age that "pride" was a sin. In her mind, making those paraffin dentures was an act of pride. So she told no one.
**********Fast forward a few weeks later.**********
Mom heard a quick triple knock and a voice calling, "Hi Mom! Thought I'd stop by and visit a bit," moments before the door opened.
"Oh no! It's Helen," Mom thought to herself as she ran toward the kitchen to remove her "paraffin dentures."
Helen, seeing her mom run away from her instead of toward her, said, "Mom? Are you okay? What's the matter?"
With guilt written all over her face, Mom turned and said, "Everything's okay. There's nothing wrong."
"What do you have in your hand?"
"Nothing,"
"Doesn't look like nothing to me. Can I see it?"
Mom turned away, then straightened her shoulders, held her hand out and showed her daughter a lump of ....paraffin?
"Mom, what is that? It looks like melted paraffin."
"That's what it is."
"Hmmm."...."And what exactly are you doing with a lump of melted paraffin."
Embarassed, Mom said, "Well...the doctor told me that my dentures would fall out when I first get them because my gums need to get used to the dentures and they'll be sore at first. I thought this might help."
"Sounds reasonable. You'll have to let me know how this turns out. You can put them back in if you want. I don't mind."
"No. I'm not used to them yet. They still fall out when I talk."
"Mom, when do you get your dentures?"
"In a couple of weeks. August 17th ."
**********Fast forward to August 20th.**********
Mom heard a quick triple knock and a voice calling, "Hi Mom! Thought I'd stop by and visit a bit," moments before the door opened.
"Helen. I wasn't expecting you today."
"I had a few minutes before picking Katie up from dance class and thought I'd stop by. How are you doing?"
Smiling widely, Mom said, "Have my new teeth. How do you like them?"
"Looks good. How do you like them?"
"Pretty good. Not as much as my real teeth, but my mouth doesn't hurt anymore."
"How'd that paraffin trick work?"
With mischievous glint in her eyes, Mom answered, "Great. I was able to talk to the dentist. I said good-bye to the receptionist and spoke to the lady in the waiting room. Teeth didn't fall out at all. Then I came home and had a bite to eat. No problems."
The mother and daughter laughed, sharing a moment of closeness.
**************************************************
What does this prove? That sometimes what "always" happens doesn't have to if you just think outside the box.
.
AND--it worked. Mom could not only talk as soon as her dentures came in, she could also eat.
Saturday, November 5, 2016
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Happy Hall-o-we'en
Where it all started: Ireland
Ireland’s Celtic Sanheim celebration
was meant to keep evil spirits away. Ireland’s traditions are the “father” of many of today’s Hall-o-we’en traditions such as costumes, harmless pranks,bonfires,and “treats” to enjoy.
A favorite “treat” in Ireland is “barnbrack” – a type of fruitcake. (Sounds more like a “trick” to me.)
The Catholic celebration of All Saints Day is November 1, making October 31 the “Hallowed Evening” before Nov 1. The story goes that as the “ghouls” were banned from wreaking havoc on the earth on All Saints Day, they would come out “en masse” on Oct. 31, “making up” for being unable to indulge in their usual mischief from the earth on Nov. 1. Thus the name “Hall-o-we’en”.
But, if Hall-o-we’en is a Catholic celebration, what happened when England broke away from the Catholic church?
When England broke away from the Catholic church they also broke away from the traditional "All Saint's Day."
However...everyone enjoys a reason to celebrate and Guy Fawkes was the unfortunate person who provided England a reason to continue to celebrate “Hall-o-we’en” as “Guy Fawkes Day.”
The Gunpowder Plot of 1605 was set in motion. Guy Fawkes was chosen to carry out the plan to blow up the English parliament. He was not successful. He was captured, tried, and executed on Nov.5 (hanged, drawn and quartered!)
To celebrate their victory of stopping Fawkes from blowing up the English parliament, “All Hallowed Eve” was dropped and replaced by "Guy Fawkes Day" on Nov. 5.
Many other countries have holidays around the same time as Hall-o-we’en, but they are not all for the same reasons as the American or British celebrations.
In Hong Kong, the celebration similar to our Hall-o-we’en is “Yue Lan” (Festival of the Hungry Ghosts”). It is believed the spirits have a 24-hour period in which they roam the earth.
The Japanese people have an “Obon Festival) which is dedicated to their ancestors’ spirits journey back to the place of their birth during this time. Altars with food are set up, lanterns are set afloat on the rivers, and fires are built to welcome the spirits of their ancestors home.
In Korea the holiday is called “Chusok.” Families thank their ancestors for their hard work (while they were living). They visit the graves of the ancestors and leave food offerings.
Mexico, Spain, and Latin American countries celebrate “The Day of the Dead.” This is a happy day of parades, feasting, flowers and costumes to honor those who went before and those who are here on earth to celebrate it now.
***********************
There are as many traditions as there are countries. Just google “Hall-o-we’en” and find out many more traditions.
For more info:
http://www.irishcentral.com/roots/top-ten-irish-traditions-for-halloween-see-photos-105754748-237724251
Sunday, October 16, 2016
Dogs or Cats....which do you prefer?
Which do you prefer?
 |
| Dogs bark. |
 |
| Cats sleep a lot. |
 |
| Cats are smaller than dogs.....usually |
 |
| Cats are finicky eaters |
 |
| Dogs....not so much. |
 |
| But when it comes to love |
 |
| They're both THE best! Cats and Dogs....I've had both and have loved both. |
Sunday, October 9, 2016
FIRST DATE (sort of)
A recently divorced mother of two, it was taking me a bit to adjust to being single.
Actually, it was taking me longer to adjust to not having my children every other weekend than to being divorced. It wasn't as if this was an overnight decision. A couple of years of therapy, many tears, humiliation after humiliation, finally culminated in my ex coming in at 6:00 a.m. (I was getting ready for work) and my telling him, "Don't be here when I come home tonight." And he wasn't.
The situation then was to make this change as easy as possible for the two innocents in this circus.
So I made up a few rules (I'm a rule kinda person).
1. My children are the #1 priority in my life.
2. I will provide my children with as stable a home life as possible.
3. I will not look back. The decision was made after much angst and I will move forward with it.
4. I will not talk bad about my children's father.
I tried really hard to keep this one. When they were younger they told me I didn't do well with this one. Now that they are older they see/recognize things they didn't then and are more forgiving of my occasional melt-downs.
But that's not the story today.
I worked in a large company. Gary, a friend I worked with, always smiling and polite, approached my desk one day in May and said, "My brother, Fred, is being stationed at the air base and he is also recently divorced. Would you be interested in meeting him?"
After asking some questions, "I'll think about it and let you know," was my reply.
A few days later I agreed to meet Fred.
That's when the fiasco began.
Remember #1 above? One of those priority things was that I NEVER hired a babysitter for my children. If they couldn't go with me wherever I went, then I didn't go. Needless to say, above mentioned brother wasn't big on taking two children with us on our first date.
Fred was an air-traffic-controller, which meant he worked 2 days on day shift, 2 days on afternoon shift, and 2 days on midnights with the following 48 hours his weekend.
I worked Monday through Friday, some Saturdays and had Sundays off. AND, I only dated on the weekends my children were with their dad.
Think about it. This meant that it was often 2 and 3 weeks between the times when he and I both had a Saturday or Sunday off together.
June, July, and August came and went and we still hadn't had our first date.
In September the children went back to school, which made me even less accessible because I was president of the PTO. More demands on my time and I still had the rule: No Babysitters.
Gary came to my desk one day and said, "Fred has Wednesday and Thursday off this week. If you want to go out with him, he has asked you to call him at work. Here's his number."
"I'll call him tonight," I said.
When I arrived home, the children were upset because the dog was gone. We spent an hour or more searching for our dog, without any luck.
"It's time to eat. We're all hungry. Let's go home and we'll go back out after dinner."
They agreed. We went home and ate. As we were "redding" the table, the phone rang. The voice on the other end said, "There is a dog that has been hit by a car and we think it belongs to you."
The three of us rushed out the door and over to the address given us and--sure enough--it was our dog. I called the emergency vet number. The three of us spent the next 2.5 - 3 hours at the vets with our much loved pet.
All thoughts of calling Fred were forgotten.
Gary was waiting for me at my desk the next morning. He was not happy.
He gave me time to sit down and put my purse away, then he leaned over my desk and said, in a quiet voice, "Look, if you don't want to go out with my brother, just say so. But don't keep stringing him along. He waited all night for you to call and you didn't."
I've always believed that quiet voices could be more menacing than loud ones. Gary's quiet voice proved it. He was mad. I could tell.
Looking up I said, "I forgot to call him."
"How could you forget? We talked about it just yesterday! I reminded you before I left work?!?"
"I am sorry. I didn't mean to brush him off. My dog was hit by a car and I spent most of the night at the vets."
He backed off. "Is that true?"
"Yes. Of course it is. Look. Here's my checkbook. See? Dr. Woods, Vet $300.00."
"Okay. Here's his number. Call him now. He said he'd stay up and wait to hear from you."
(Remember that this was his second midnight day so he had left work around 7:00 so he would just be getting home.)
Finally Fred and I connected on the phone.
He sounded nice.
And I broke my rule. I agreed to go out with him on Thursday,
if I could get a babysitter.
I found a babysitter.
We went out on our first date and it was, for me, love at first sight.
Thirty-four years later, it still is.
A recently divorced mother of two, it was taking me a bit to adjust to being single.
Actually, it was taking me longer to adjust to not having my children every other weekend than to being divorced. It wasn't as if this was an overnight decision. A couple of years of therapy, many tears, humiliation after humiliation, finally culminated in my ex coming in at 6:00 a.m. (I was getting ready for work) and my telling him, "Don't be here when I come home tonight." And he wasn't.
The situation then was to make this change as easy as possible for the two innocents in this circus.
So I made up a few rules (I'm a rule kinda person).
1. My children are the #1 priority in my life.
2. I will provide my children with as stable a home life as possible.
3. I will not look back. The decision was made after much angst and I will move forward with it.
4. I will not talk bad about my children's father.
I tried really hard to keep this one. When they were younger they told me I didn't do well with this one. Now that they are older they see/recognize things they didn't then and are more forgiving of my occasional melt-downs.
But that's not the story today.
After asking some questions, "I'll think about it and let you know," was my reply.
A few days later I agreed to meet Fred.
That's when the fiasco began.
Remember #1 above? One of those priority things was that I NEVER hired a babysitter for my children. If they couldn't go with me wherever I went, then I didn't go. Needless to say, above mentioned brother wasn't big on taking two children with us on our first date.
Fred was an air-traffic-controller, which meant he worked 2 days on day shift, 2 days on afternoon shift, and 2 days on midnights with the following 48 hours his weekend.
I worked Monday through Friday, some Saturdays and had Sundays off. AND, I only dated on the weekends my children were with their dad.
Think about it. This meant that it was often 2 and 3 weeks between the times when he and I both had a Saturday or Sunday off together.
June, July, and August came and went and we still hadn't had our first date.
In September the children went back to school, which made me even less accessible because I was president of the PTO. More demands on my time and I still had the rule: No Babysitters.
Gary came to my desk one day and said, "Fred has Wednesday and Thursday off this week. If you want to go out with him, he has asked you to call him at work. Here's his number."
"I'll call him tonight," I said.
When I arrived home, the children were upset because the dog was gone. We spent an hour or more searching for our dog, without any luck.
"It's time to eat. We're all hungry. Let's go home and we'll go back out after dinner."
They agreed. We went home and ate. As we were "redding" the table, the phone rang. The voice on the other end said, "There is a dog that has been hit by a car and we think it belongs to you."The three of us rushed out the door and over to the address given us and--sure enough--it was our dog. I called the emergency vet number. The three of us spent the next 2.5 - 3 hours at the vets with our much loved pet.
All thoughts of calling Fred were forgotten.
Gary was waiting for me at my desk the next morning. He was not happy.
He gave me time to sit down and put my purse away, then he leaned over my desk and said, in a quiet voice, "Look, if you don't want to go out with my brother, just say so. But don't keep stringing him along. He waited all night for you to call and you didn't."
I've always believed that quiet voices could be more menacing than loud ones. Gary's quiet voice proved it. He was mad. I could tell.
Looking up I said, "I forgot to call him."
"How could you forget? We talked about it just yesterday! I reminded you before I left work?!?"
"I am sorry. I didn't mean to brush him off. My dog was hit by a car and I spent most of the night at the vets."
He backed off. "Is that true?"
"Yes. Of course it is. Look. Here's my checkbook. See? Dr. Woods, Vet $300.00."
"Okay. Here's his number. Call him now. He said he'd stay up and wait to hear from you."
(Remember that this was his second midnight day so he had left work around 7:00 so he would just be getting home.)
Finally Fred and I connected on the phone.
He sounded nice.
And I broke my rule. I agreed to go out with him on Thursday,
if I could get a babysitter.
I found a babysitter.
We went out on our first date and it was, for me, love at first sight.
Thirty-four years later, it still is.
Sunday, October 2, 2016
Share and Share Alike
Benny was excited. All the cousins were coming to visit. Of course, that meant Uncle Ed would be there also, but that was okay because Jenny and Tom and Pete would be there too. Jenny, Tom, and Pete were Uncle Ed and Aunt Edna's children...Benny's cousins. And more...almost all the aunts and uncles and cousins were coming to the pre-graduation party.
Oh, yes, the party was to celebrate his older brothers graduation from high school.
And he was going to be the ultimate host.
If the weather was nice there was a new set of horseshoes and a new croquet set.
If the weather didn't cooperate, there were board and card games.
AND....he knew where his mother hid her special chocolate candy.
That would be the hit of the day!
Excitement grew as carloads of relatives began to arrive.
The uncles went golfing.
The aunts did last minute shopping and cooking for the following days festivities.
Older cousins and younger cousins played croquet for several hours.
The older cousins then decided to go to the movies without the younger cousins.
"Don't worry," Benny said. "I have games and," he leaned into the group of cousins, "I know where Mom hides her best chocolates."
"Oooooohhhhh!" the cousins replied.
All the younger cousins went in the house and "shared" the best chocolates. When they were finished, there were no chocolates left.
A little later all the cousins had stomach aches.
Which grew worse and worse.
"What have you been eating?"
Then Mom discovered all her "special"
chocolates were gone.
The cousins were very unhappy.
Mom and Dad and all the Aunts and Uncles and cousins were rolling on the floor laughing.
It was a good thing all the neighbors were home
Benny never shared Mom's "special" chocolates again, even though he was not punished (by Mom or Dad) for sharing them this one time.
"Chocolate" ex-lax for those who did not like the taste of the regulars. :-)
Oh, yes, the party was to celebrate his older brothers graduation from high school.
And he was going to be the ultimate host.
If the weather was nice there was a new set of horseshoes and a new croquet set.
If the weather didn't cooperate, there were board and card games.
AND....he knew where his mother hid her special chocolate candy.
That would be the hit of the day!
Excitement grew as carloads of relatives began to arrive.
The uncles went golfing.
The aunts did last minute shopping and cooking for the following days festivities.
Older cousins and younger cousins played croquet for several hours.
The older cousins then decided to go to the movies without the younger cousins.
"Don't worry," Benny said. "I have games and," he leaned into the group of cousins, "I know where Mom hides her best chocolates."
"Oooooohhhhh!" the cousins replied.
All the younger cousins went in the house and "shared" the best chocolates. When they were finished, there were no chocolates left.
A little later all the cousins had stomach aches.
Which grew worse and worse.
"What have you been eating?"
Then Mom discovered all her "special"
chocolates were gone.
The cousins were very unhappy.
Mom and Dad and all the Aunts and Uncles and cousins were rolling on the floor laughing.
It was a good thing all the neighbors were home
so they could use their bathrooms.
Benny never shared Mom's "special" chocolates again, even though he was not punished (by Mom or Dad) for sharing them this one time.
"Chocolate" ex-lax for those who did not like the taste of the regulars. :-)
Sunday, September 25, 2016
Sunday, September 18, 2016
My mom has been on my mind a lot lately.
She was a force to be reckoned with. Only 5'1", she managed to run her grocery store, raise 5 kids, who knows how many chickens, and still keep her sanity. Maybe.
Mom's grocery extended "credit" in our little "community". Sometimes the credit would be paid in chickens, or vegetables and fruits from gardens but often Mom knew when extending the credit that the money would not come back to her; at least, not in money. Goodwill. The people in our little community cared deeply for this little woman who never made them feel little.
One of my favorite stories (and there are many) is that Mom would dress up as Santa Claus at Christmas and go to others who were less well off than we were and take presents to the children. Simple presents such as the small rubber dolls that were so popular in those days, toy trucks or cars, sometimes paper dolls, and candy. Mom loved candy herself so made sure she included candy for each child.
The reason I am so vague about this entire process is because I was pretty small at that time also and Mom wanted me to continue to believe in Santa. So her yearly excursions were kept from me.
How did I find out about them? In 1963 we moved to Indiana. Dad passed away in 1975 and Mom moved back to Tennessee in 1978. (This is important...just hold on.)
In 1986, Mom's 70th birthday, we had a blow-out birthday celebration for her. Because she was known across 3 counties, and had relatives in many more, we put the invitation in the local newspapers (No gifts, please.) Keeping the secret from Mom was difficult, because she still read every local newspaper as well as the Knoxville Journal regularly, but we managed it.
The big day came. A few of us stayed with Mom, others "hid" at relatives homes only showing up on the day of her birthday. There were so many people there! None of us knew everyone who showed up, but they all had memories about Mom and her store.
A "young" man showed up that no one of us recognized. In his late 30's or early 40's, one of us should have known who he was but we didn't. He asked, "Where's Mrs. Crabtree?" and was pointed in Mom's direction.
Kneeling in front of Mom, he asked, "Mrs. Crabtree, do you remember me?" Mom, who never liked to admit she didn't remember someone, hemmed and hawed and said, "You look like a young boy who used to come to my store with his parents, but I can't place your name."
Delighted the man said, "You are right. James and Catherine Baker*, my mommy and daddy used to come over here on Sundays just to talk or visit a bit. Sometimes we'd get a coke or a pack of peanuts, but lots of times we'd just visit." Pausing, he continued, "But, that isn't why I remember you, Mrs. Crabtree. Do you know why I remember you?"
Mom said, "Why, yes, if my eyes worked the way they should, I would've seen your daddy in you."
Pausing, Mom said, "Why do you remember me?"
Taking Mom's hands in his, he said, "You dressed up as Santa Clause every year and brought me and my brothers and sisters candy and a toy. Because of you, I believed in Santa Clause. Mommy and Daddy never had enough money to give us gifts, but you, as Santa, did. I was broken hearted when Santa stopped visiting. After I got old enough to understand, my daddy finally told me who Santa really was. I've never forgot that. I've never forgot that you gave me and my brothers and sisters a Christmas for several years. When I saw your birthday party in the paper, I knew I'd come to wish you a happy birthday and tell you that I will never forget you."
That this young man remembered and was touched for 23 years (1963 to 1986) spoke volumes to me about the kind of person my mom was. She gave to others freely and without expecting anything in return.
To this day, I tear up when telling this story.
I just hope that someday I turn out to be half the woman my mother was.
*All of this is hearsay for me, because I was in the house doing something that needed to be done. I don't actually know the young man's name and do not remember anyone in our community named Baker.
She was a force to be reckoned with. Only 5'1", she managed to run her grocery store, raise 5 kids, who knows how many chickens, and still keep her sanity. Maybe.
Mom's grocery extended "credit" in our little "community". Sometimes the credit would be paid in chickens, or vegetables and fruits from gardens but often Mom knew when extending the credit that the money would not come back to her; at least, not in money. Goodwill. The people in our little community cared deeply for this little woman who never made them feel little.
One of my favorite stories (and there are many) is that Mom would dress up as Santa Claus at Christmas and go to others who were less well off than we were and take presents to the children. Simple presents such as the small rubber dolls that were so popular in those days, toy trucks or cars, sometimes paper dolls, and candy. Mom loved candy herself so made sure she included candy for each child.
The reason I am so vague about this entire process is because I was pretty small at that time also and Mom wanted me to continue to believe in Santa. So her yearly excursions were kept from me.
How did I find out about them? In 1963 we moved to Indiana. Dad passed away in 1975 and Mom moved back to Tennessee in 1978. (This is important...just hold on.)
In 1986, Mom's 70th birthday, we had a blow-out birthday celebration for her. Because she was known across 3 counties, and had relatives in many more, we put the invitation in the local newspapers (No gifts, please.) Keeping the secret from Mom was difficult, because she still read every local newspaper as well as the Knoxville Journal regularly, but we managed it.
The big day came. A few of us stayed with Mom, others "hid" at relatives homes only showing up on the day of her birthday. There were so many people there! None of us knew everyone who showed up, but they all had memories about Mom and her store.
A "young" man showed up that no one of us recognized. In his late 30's or early 40's, one of us should have known who he was but we didn't. He asked, "Where's Mrs. Crabtree?" and was pointed in Mom's direction.
Kneeling in front of Mom, he asked, "Mrs. Crabtree, do you remember me?" Mom, who never liked to admit she didn't remember someone, hemmed and hawed and said, "You look like a young boy who used to come to my store with his parents, but I can't place your name."
Delighted the man said, "You are right. James and Catherine Baker*, my mommy and daddy used to come over here on Sundays just to talk or visit a bit. Sometimes we'd get a coke or a pack of peanuts, but lots of times we'd just visit." Pausing, he continued, "But, that isn't why I remember you, Mrs. Crabtree. Do you know why I remember you?"
Mom said, "Why, yes, if my eyes worked the way they should, I would've seen your daddy in you."
Pausing, Mom said, "Why do you remember me?"
Taking Mom's hands in his, he said, "You dressed up as Santa Clause every year and brought me and my brothers and sisters candy and a toy. Because of you, I believed in Santa Clause. Mommy and Daddy never had enough money to give us gifts, but you, as Santa, did. I was broken hearted when Santa stopped visiting. After I got old enough to understand, my daddy finally told me who Santa really was. I've never forgot that. I've never forgot that you gave me and my brothers and sisters a Christmas for several years. When I saw your birthday party in the paper, I knew I'd come to wish you a happy birthday and tell you that I will never forget you."
That this young man remembered and was touched for 23 years (1963 to 1986) spoke volumes to me about the kind of person my mom was. She gave to others freely and without expecting anything in return.
To this day, I tear up when telling this story.
I just hope that someday I turn out to be half the woman my mother was.
*All of this is hearsay for me, because I was in the house doing something that needed to be done. I don't actually know the young man's name and do not remember anyone in our community named Baker.
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