Time for a Change

It is 12:05 am, Friday, November 27, 2009. Yesterday, Thursday, was Thanksgiving, and for me it turned into a wonderful day. We have become such a large family, and most of us live right here within less than 50 miles of each other, so it is very difficult to get altogether for any special occasion, so for a holiday like Thanksgiving, we seem to split up into several smaller groups. Today was one of those days. I spent the day with Judy and her family (Steve and Ruth, as the other two kids live in Texas), and was pleasantly surprised to have one of her sisters and her family with us. Just a small group, but we did have a wonderful time.

Today, Friday, I will be finishing up my packing for the move tomorrow. You would think, by the way I have been going at this for the last couple of weeks, that I had a whole house full of stuff to move miles and miles away. Actually, I only have one very small room, and I wll be moving into one room, only 30 miles away. But, when it came to packing, you would not believe how much I have acculumated. When I moved in here, I did not have very much stuff, because when I had my stroke in 2006, we weren't sure just what was going to happen to me, so the girls cleaned out my apartment, and only brought here what I really needed at the time. Over the past 3 1/2 yesrs, I have gradually brought in things that I had or needed, until I can't believe how much "stuff" I have. And I don't want to put most of it back into storage, so it will go with me. Doing the packing mostly by myself has made it seem like a major project, plus the fact that I cannot work for long periods of time. So, I pack a little, then I have to stop and rest awhile. I am really glad I started packing over two weeks ago. Thank goodness, I expect I will have plenty of help unpacking things, so it won't take me two weeks to get that done.

This move was such an unexpected thing to happen, but I think it will work out very well. The lady I will be living with is really very nice. I went and spent about l0 days with her a few weeks ago, and we seemed to get along very well. We will be excellent companions for each other. The move idea came from her, and her family, and they seem to be very pleased that I accepted her invitation. So, that also helps to make the move easier for me.

So, I will be off line for a few days. I have not set up a phone line down there yet, and won't until some time next week, and until I get that taken care of, I will not have email. So, I don't know just how long I will be away. Maybe not even long enough for you to miss me. I hope not, 'cause I think I would go bonkers if I had to be without my internet very long again.

I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and until I get back to you, be happy, and God Bless You all.

Miss me?

Sorry I've been away, but - it seems I've done it again - open mouth, insert foot. And, I have been bothered by it so much, I just haven't felt like visiting. I guess I really offended someone this time. I really didn't mean to, but that is what often happens to me. I express myself for one reason or another and wind up hurting someone very much. I am so truly sorry.

There hasn't been too much happening around here. I've been kinda busy, packing. In case you haven't figured it out, I am moving. I have been living here at the retirement center for 3 1/2 years, but now I am moving on. I never expected this to happen, but I think it is going to be a good thing. Quite a difference, that's for sure. Instad of living in an assisted living facility, I will be living in a private home, with another lady about my age. We have spent some time together, and I think it is going to work out very well. She has such a lovely home, a beautiful back yard with a patio. She lives in the hills southwest of Lincoln, CA, and from the patio there is such a beautiful view of the valley. At night you can see airplanes landing at an airport not too far away. It is so nice and peaceful there. People ask me if I am going to miss where I am. Of course I am. There are some very nice people here, and there are some not so nice. The old saying goes that you can miss anything. Even if you live with someone who is cruel, or you live with or next door to a barking dog, or a crying baby, you will miss that. Sometimes it will be in a sad way, and sometimes it will be something you will be glad to miss. I have both feelings about leaving here. But, I am looking forward to the move, and think it will be a good situation.

Yes, fall is definitely here. The weather has cooled off, to where it is in the 30's and 40's at night, and in the 60's usually in the daytime. One thing I always like about the fall is that as soon as the nights begin to cool down, the leaves on the trees begin to turn color. I went to town today, and the leaves are so pretty - there are whole trees that are bright yellow, some are dark red, some almost purple, and many that are mixed colors. They always talk about the trees in New
Englnad being so pretty in the fall. Well, maybe they are, but I think around here, they can be almost as pretty. If you travel east maybe 25 miles, more or less, you can get into the foothills, and then you get some really pretty trees. But, the ones right here in the valley, and even the city, are nothing to be scoffed at.

Well, I really didn't have much to say tonight, so I think I am just going to say goodnight, talk to you later.

My Dad, cont'd

I didn't realize that the last time I posted was Sunday, and here it is Thursday already. But, I've been busy. It is late (12:30 am) but I did want to finish my story about Dad, so here goes.

Continuing from my book -

Dad made a couple dozen little chairs for the Baptist church for their Sunday School rooms; he made new station pedestals for the Lodge hall; he made a dozen or more of one kind of sewing cabinet and several of another kind. He made quite a few cedar chests. All but one of them were solid cedar. The last one he made, and gave to my daughter, Georgia, was pine with cedar lining. They were beautiful. Dad gave the one to Georgia for Christmas of 1981, and he passed away in February 1982. He never got to make one for Becky. The one he had made for me for my birthday several years before, he had sold before he got to give it to me, so the one I had, I actually won in a raffle, and when I began living in tiny apartments, etc., I gave it to Becky so she would at least have one that her grandfather had made. Of all the cedar chests he made, he only made two alike - the one he gave Judy and the one he made for me to raffle when I was Grand Matriarch of the Grand Ladies Encampment Auxiliary. Also, he completely redid the cabinetry in the kitchen of their home, as well as redoing the closets in the bedrooms and the hallway. He was an amazing cabinet maker.

A family ritual that went on as long as I an remember, was washing Dad's hand and sweeping him down with the broom. If he had been working out in the field, plowing or harvesting, anything that made a lot of dust, (remember farm equipment did not have air conditioned cabs then), he would stop outside the bak door. One of us would grab the broom and proceed to sweep the dust off him, and sometimes there was a lot of it. One of the things I remember was washing his hand. From the time I was so small I had to stand on a stool to reach the kitchen sink, I remember Mom, my brother, or me, washing Dad's hand before he would eat a meal or maybe get ready to go to town, lodge ot somewhere else. As greasy as he would get, I can't imagine how he would ever have gotten his hand clean without our help. We didn't have running water in the bathroom, so we always washed up at the kitchen sink. This meant drawing a pan of good warm water, rolling Dad's shirt sleeve up (he always wore long sleeved shirts) about midway on his arm, and getting the Lava soap and scrubbing away. His biggest delight was to jerk his hand or twist it around - anything to make it more difficult for us kids to hold his big massive hand and scrub it. Some times, it would be necessary to use a hand brush to get the grease off. But we always managed some way. After washing his hand, we would dump the water out of the pan, draw freash water and he would proceed to wash his face and neck - always the back of his neck. This was such an everyday occurrence in our household that none of us thought anything about it. But one time, long after I was married, I remember a friend of my brother telling me that he had witnessed in our home, one of the greatest demonstrations of love that he had ever seen. I couldn't imagine what in the world he was talking about. Then he mentioned watching us wash Dad's hand and what a feeling of warmth and love he got just from watching us. So, I guess what was just natural to us was really something special to other people.

Dad continued to live alone after Mother went into the hospital and finally a convalescent hospital. Even after her death, he stayed on in the only home they had known together. When his time came, he called to tell me he was having spasms in his right arm. At first I thought it was just reaction to his amputation - these things can haunt a person for years. But when we went to check on him, I found that the spasms or seizures were of such a nature they could not be controlled, so we took him to the doctor. He was admitted to the hospital and a couple of days later the doctor told me there was no hope for him unless someone came up with a brain transplant real soon. He was in the hospital five dayds, then moved to a convalescent home where he lasted another five days. I believe, and I will always believe, he heard Mom calling him. He had made no sign of recognition of anyone, me, the nurses, or anyone else for several days. All of a sudden he sat up in bed, looked all around, and laid back down and he was gone. I believe Mother called him home.

And so ends my story of my Dad. Those are some of my best memories. Of course, there are many things I could tell about him - but this is enough for now. Next, I will introduce you to another special person in my life - my Mother. But for now, I think it is time to say "goodnight".

My Dad, cont'd

To continue my story about my Dad from my book -

When Dad lost his hand, that put an end to his playing the violin and doing other things that required both hands. He was still living with his mother, so never had to really get used to doing things for himself. He and Mother were married just six months later, in September 1917. He was naturally right handed, and it was his right hand he lost. He never did get used to writing with his left hand. We always used to say he had never written a complete check after he lost his hand, but I have found a few he wrote when he and my mother were first married. He could not button the cuff on the left sleeve of his dress shirt, tie a necktie, or lace or tie his shoes. He could tie his work shoes fine. The first pair of work shoes he bought after he lost his hand, the salesman at JC Penny taught him to lace his shoes and fasten them, so he could do it by himself. I tried many times to get him to wear slip-on dress shoes, but he was not about to wear "house shoes" for dress, so he always had to have someone tie his shoes. Even after Mother went into the hospital with her final illness, if he went anywhere to wear dress shoes, he would have to have someone tie them after he got where he was going. Same way with his shirt sleeves. On his work shirts, the cuffs were loose enough that he could slip his hand through without the cuff being unbuttoned. Of course, with no hand on his right arm, there was no problem with that cuff. I tried to get him to learn to wear clip-on ties, but he wouldn't do that either. He was a stubborn man. Dad made his living as a farmer, and there was very little he couldn't do around the farm. The only livestock he ever raised were chickens, pigs and sheep, and they did not require any special treatment that required two hands (like milking a cow).

Some of the things Dad did learn to do were really amazing. He learned to buck 100 pound sacks of grain without any problem. He ould use garden tools just as well as anyone else. He never let his lack of a hand stop him from doing almost all the maintenance on his cars and farm erquipment. He became friends with the head of the San Francisco office of the state Department of Rehabilitation, who filmed him doing some of the chores around the yard, the farm, and the work on his machinery. This was to be used in the training of people who had lost a limb. I never knew how this turned out. If there was something he had a problem with, Mom or one of us kids was usually there to help him out. Some of my best memories are of the times I spent working on the cars and tractors with Dad - getting all dirty and greasy. It always bothered him that I would never cover my hair. But it was just easier to wash my hair than to mess with a scarf or hat. And I used to wash the parts of the engines in gasoline and then let the gas dry on my hands without washing it off. That really bothered him too. He worried about me a lot.

After Dad retired from farming, he took up cabinet work. He did a lot of that. He had a well equipped shop (everything except a lathe which he said he was afraid to try to use - didn't think he could hold things well enough). The only real problem he had with the cabinet work was that he could not "set" the nails. He usually had Mom come out and do that for him. Then, after Mom went into the hospital, the work would pile up until my husband or I could get over there to set the nails for him. I never did know whose idea it was, his or my cousin Bill's, but anyway Bill made a tool for him so he could set his own nails. They say necessity is the mother of invention, and I guess that was the case here. Anyway what Bill made was from a simple steel strap, and a center punch (if you know what that is). It worked very well for him, and allowed him to ciontinue his wood work until a month or so before he died. Dad could make almost any kind of cabinetry you wanted. Just give him a picture, or a diagram, and he would figure it out.

(to be continued)

Today was my birthday. Other than a couple of phone calls from daughters, it was not a whole lot different from any other day. Judy & her husband and I went to church, and then they took me out to lunch. It was a beautiful day, with just scattered clouds in the sky. Steve likes to take some of the back roads home (and so do I), so we did that today - roads I haven't been on for years. It is really nice to get to just ride around the country. We used to do that a lot, when the girls were younger, and I have never outgrown my love for such a pass time.

Well, I will continue my story of Dad another time, along with "quickie" notes on other things, but for now, Good night -

He was a wonderful man - my Dad

I promised right from the start of this that I was going to tell some things about my family, and I just don't seem to get around to it. Well, here goes. I don't how much of what I write, you already know, but maybe you'll learn something new.

This is taken primarily from the book I wrote in 2004, "I Remember When". I gave a copy of this book to each of my children, and grandchildren. So, if it sounds familar, that's probably why. I am not going to tell the whole story at one sitting - that would be just too much. So, I am going to kind of serialize it, with maybe some new notes, or additional comments thrown.

Fom my book - Dad - I love remembering my Dad. To me he was a remarkable man. I very rarely saw him get mad at either one of us kids. Mother was the one who had to do all the disciplining. (More about this later.) Even she did not get very angry very often. I can remember her taking a yard stick to get my brothr out of bed once in awhile, but not very often.

Dad - well, as a young man, he played the violin. He liked to ride a bicycle and even a motorcycle. That kind of activities came to a halt when in May of 1917, at 25 years old, he lost his right hand. He was working for the Hahn brothers who lived just across the road from the house in which his mother was born, about two miles from his last residence. Every morning on the way to work, he would ses a skunk cross the road. So he decided he was going to get rid of that skunk. On this particular morning, he took his shotgun with him, and sure enough, right on schedule, there was the skunk. He stopped his car, got out, took his gun, and his dog who always was wih him, jumped out of the car. Dad put the gun over the fence and leaned the barrel of the gun against the fence post. He placed his hand on top of the post while he climbed the fence. The dog went through the fence, hitting the gun and causing it to fire, filling the palm of Dad's hand with shot. Dad got back into his car and drove approvimately three miles to the doctor. Remember, this is 1917. The doctor could do nothing to save his hand, so he removed it at the hoint, using the skin from the back of the hand to cover the stump of his arm. I do not believe he ws hospitalized at all. (I believe, had this happened today, they probably could have saved his hand.)

Dad did not like the bare stump of his arm hanging out of his shirt sleeve, plus he needed something to protect it from getting hurt all the time as he worked around the ranch. So Mom created for him an "arm pad" and an "arm sock". Actually, there were two "socks". One was for dress, and one for work. The pad was originally made by taking pieces of flannelette, and sewing them together to make a rather shapeless "sock" for his arm, which would be covered by the "arm sock". Later, the pads were made by sewing several sock toes together. This "pad" was usually about 3-4 inches long, so it ent up his arm a short distance. Then over the pad, he would wear one of the "socks". The dress sock was made by takng a black man's dress sock, cutting away the heel and sewing that area closed. Then, depending on how long the sock was, Mom would either leave it the way it was, or she might cut a bit off the top of the sock. She would sew into the top of the sock a round rubber garter such as women wore to hold up their nylons. When he put the sock on, he would put another garter on the outside of the sock and then roll the whole thing down his aram, to just below the elbow. Worked real slick. For his work socks, he would use a heavier cotton sock (usually white or grey) to make the over-sock. What a god-send it was shen they started making tube socks - no more heels to fool with - just sew an eleastic garter at the top, and it was ready to go. (To be continued)

My memories of my Dad (and Mother, too) are still very much alive. I can still remember so vividly, some of the things we did together, and I often quote some of his favorite sayings. I'll probably get around to some of this at some point. They were never a part of my book.

My everyday life is going along, just that - everyday. Not too much exciting happens in the environment in which I live.

I, as I'm sure most of you, was deeply shaden by the recent tragedy at Ft. Hood, Texas. Isn't it a shame, that life can become so overpowering that someone woud take lives - not just their own, but those of numerous others who were completely innocent of any involvement in the situation. I think of other similar cases - some mentioned by the press, and some not. We still hear a lot about the shootings at Columbine High School, and yet we hear very little, if anything anymore, about the shootings right here at the Olivehurst High School back in 1992. Maybe thee weren't as many people involved, but it was no less tragic. The school was locked down, busses were delayed, and my personal involvemnt in this one was, the man I was living with at the time, (Butler) was raising his youngest grandson, and of course, the bus was late, so the kid was late getting home. Bud was an impatient man, and of course, he blamed the kid for being late. Thank goodness I was able to call him, tell him what had happened, and explain that the kid was not to blame for being late getting home. I remember exactly where I was, and what I was doing when the bomb went off at the Federal Building in Oklahoma City. I remember exactly what I was doing when Pres. Kennedy was shot. So many of the tragedies that have occurred during my life, I can remember so vividly what I was doing at that moment. Thank God, I also have many, many good memories to cover some of the tragedies.

Enough for now -

That's the way it was =

My youngest grandson has asked me more than once, "what did you do for fun, when you were a kid" I have tried my best to explain some of the things we did for "fun" but I don't think I ever said it as well as an email I got today. It was sent to me by one of my daughters, and if you didn't get it, let me know, and I will be sure you do. She called it simply "To all my friends and children" Boy, maybe you don't think that put a scare into me! Anyway, it is really worth reading, and it has a neat ending quote from Jay Leno. If you read it, it will save me getting on my soapbox again, and venting for an hour or so.

More, later, but this is it for now.

Catch up time

Well, I'm back - finally. I just about went nuts not having access to my computer for ten days. I got back Thursday night, but have been busy and did not get around to blogging until now.

I have just been reading all the posts I have made since I started, and making some notes on things I wanted to comment on. So here goes.

Back on September 7, I commented on the water situation, both here in California, and other places. I commented that we had not had to experience water rationing, etc. Then, last night on the Sacramento news there was something about water rationing starting in the Sacramento area. Something about domestic watering not being permitted except on Saturdays and Sundays, and then only by address. (Makes me think of what Esther told me about Texas.) They are also limiting the times you can burn a wood stove or fireplace. So far, it is just in the metropolitan Sacramento area. This is to preserve the 'clean air' situation. I don't know what people will do if they depend on wood heat for their homes.

In that same post, I mentioned the new stop light at Queens & Gray Aves. Frankly, I think it is a good thing - of course, I don't drive a car, so I don't get caught at the 'long' stop lights. But I have heard numerous complaints. But, I think, like so many other things, when people get used to it, they will be more willing to accept it. It is a well known fact, people do not like change.

Some other things I mentioned in other posts - Bible study; this is something I have wanted to participate in for a long time, but not in the way this one is conducted. So, two weeks, and I was out of there.

I also mentioed that the property where my Dad had his home was part of a Spanish Land Grant. At one time I had a copy of that grant, and I hope it will show up again. If not, I am sure I can get another copy from the Hall of Records in Colusa County. In the meantime, I was looking for information about it on the web, and I did find some interesting things. Yes, there was a Spanish Land Grant which was part of the outcome of the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo, after the Mexican/American War which had been declared on May 13, 1846. The Treaty was negotiated between the Mexican officials and Nicholas Trist, representing President Polk, and signed on February 2, 1848 in Guadalupe Hidalgo, the city where the Mexican government had set up after the fall of Mexico City. The treaty called for Mexico to cede 55% of its territory (present-day California, plus,) in exchange for fifteen million dollars for war-related damage to Mexican property. More information can be found by googling "Treaty of Guadalupe"

As I was reading through my posts, I was making notes of what I wanted to expound on, and can you believe it, already I cannot read my own writing, so I can't add to these things. Maybe later.

Imentioned that I have been emailing with HRR's cousin, Michael Goyke. Well, I was looking at the copy of the 1920 census of Whitman County, WA, which is where HRR's mother was raised. Sure enough, there are listed her father, mother, and all seven of the kids. But, at the end of the list, there is another person, a Barbara E., age 22. Someone new has been added. I wrote Michael and got right back telling me that he thought Barbara is the half-sister we always knew as Elizabeth. He thought her name was actually Barbara Elizabeth; makes sense. You just never know what you might learn when you dig a little deeper.

NOW - how was your Halloween? Things are sure a lot different from what they used to be. Even here at the Manor. I believe it was last year, we had a group of little girls (Brownies, Bluebirds, or something) come by and give each of us a little something. I remember they gave me a ghost, made of a small styrofoam ball wrapped in Kleenex, tied at the nect and a face done with felt tip pen. But I can remember Halloweens past that were a lot more exciting. Of course, Dad always had his tales to tell, and I guess some of the "mischief" they did then would earn them jail time today - things like, upset outhouses, putting picket fence gates on top of the house, - just little things like that. Nothing that was really vandalous and couldn't be repaired very easily. I remember once when I was a teenager (remember I lived in the country and didn't get to do things like this very often) a group of my friends went trick-or-treating in town. My grandmother White lived in a house in town at that time, and she had a tree in her front yeard. Well, the girls all sat around under that tree, and one of them went to the door, knocked on the door, and then ran and joined the others under the tree. I don't remember what happened after that. When Kathy & Judy were little, (Edie wasn't born yet) we had a Halloween party for a group of our friends. The mothers took the little ones around the neighborhood trick-or-treating, while the Dads stayed at the house and played cards. I think this was the time, at one house, the man who answered the door invited us all inside and then said, "OK, you do your trick, and I'll give you a treat". I don't remember for sure what we did, sang a song, danced a dance or something. With the streets getting so dangerous for anyone to be out after dark, door to door trick-or-treating is becoming a thing of the past, and community parties are becoming more and more popular.

Well, I had intended to start telling you more about my family background, but I think I have done enough for now. But watch this spot, because I am going to begin serializing some of my family stories, and you won't want to miss a chapter.

Bye for now - Beth