HAPPY EASTER

Procrastinating in bed this morning, I thought about the fact it was Easter morning. That led me to think about how Easter has had many different iterations during my 76 years.

          I remember my childhood and how we kids (don’t remember about the parents because I was a kid and didn’t think about them) always got a new Easter outfit. I can remember getting new dresses, shoes and even gloves and bonnets. These were, of course, spring/summer clothing and we weren’t allowed to wear them as soon as they were purchased. The first wearing was to Sunday school and church.

          This led me to think about Sunday school, church, and youth fellowship, or whatever they called it. As a little kid, I loved Sunday school and church. I believed that if I was good, I would be rewarded. As I grew older, I had my first experience with discrimination and the fact that people who attend church and act a particular way when they are there don’t necessarily act that way the other six days of the week…unless there is choir practice or youth fellowship and then each and every one of my compatriots wore a beautiful shining halo.

          I do not have a lot of happy memories when it comes to attending church later on. The kids who went to Sunday school with me were rude and nasty at school because I lived on the wrong side of the railroad tracks (there were no tracks, but Fremont at that time was not the center of the Universe). I finally hated going to Sunday school or having to do anything that included most of these other kids that I stopped.

          Choir was wonderful and I loved singing. I was happy there and no one, including the choirmaster said or did anything that indicated I could not sing. Then, in fifth grade, I got a music teacher who told me I, “couldn’t carry and tune and was tone deaf.” She told me that in front of the entire class and continued to embarrass me by making me come to the front of the class when it was my turn, use the pitch pipe and lead the class in the first song of the day. I quit choir, positive everyone had just been nice, or my horrid singing was masked by the other voices.

          The final straw was when two men from my church, in suits, ties and hats came to my house. I was a mid-teenager then and had pledged to give a certain amount of money to the offering plate each week using the dated envelopes in which I would place my money. Since I had stopped attending, the church hadn’t received my offerings. These men were there to collect. I hadn’t realized I could be held liable if I didn’t give. I didn’t have the money and neither did my parents. It was very embarrassing. I think the only time(s) I ever went back to that church was for a wedding.

          Anyway, back to Easter. We always got an easter basket with candy. Today, I wouldn’t put a single piece of that stuff in my mouth. It was cheap and horrible, but as a kid, I didn’t care. I remember one year my Great Aunt Grace came from
Arizona and gave each of us a fancy Easter basket with premium candy in it (the first time I had expensive/good candy). Mine also included a little china dog whichI still have  all these years later. My mom always made a ham and invited family to join us. I remember those fun times with the extended family fondly.

          When I grew up and married, we usually went to my moms for Easter dinner. We didn’t buy much in the way of candy or anything else. Mom usually got an Easter lily and they always smelled wonderful.

          Once AJ was born, Easter became more fun for us. I remember his first Easter and how my sister brought him a HUGE Easter basket (which he still has) with two baby chicks in it…one was pink and one was blue. AJ was fascinated by them when they were placed on his high chair tray, but seriously what was I going to do with two baby chicks. Problem solved when I gifted them to the next door neighbors who raised, slaughtered and ate them.

          As the years passed, besides Easter baskets with lots of candy, we took to hosting a potluck brunch for family and friends. Those were always so much fun and, weather permitting, included Easter egg hunts. I think the last time I hid eggs outside; they were plastic and I put money in them instead of candy. I also remember the time the kids could not find the last egg. I finally found it months later and John instructed me to very carefully add it to the compost pile because it would most likely smell horrible if cracked in the house.

          After John’s death, I didn’t get a chance to see how Easter would be without him because the pandemic arrived and no one got together for anything. This Easter AJ and Angie are coming to dinner and I’m baking a ham. It won’t be as noisy, there’ll be no egg hunt, but it feels good to have at least two guests. Perhaps next year I can invite Thor and his family or, and this would be great too, invite other family members and friends. Hopefully, they’d be able to attend, but I’ve a feeling the pandemic has changed a lot of things, and a huge brunch might just be one of those things.

          My grandson Xander now has his own cell phone at the age of 7.5, and I may be one of the few people he can call or text. I tried to call him yesterday to wish him a Happy Easter, but he was busy at an Easter egg hunt. He did call me back and told me all about the hunt and how he got the most eggs...25. I asked him if he left any for the other kids and he said there were lots. I also told him with all that candy, the Easter bunny would be bringing him vegetables instead of candy. He promptly told me that wouldn't happen.

         Today, he called I don’t know how many times and figured out how to the video chat option. Using that, he was able to show me his room and how clean and organized it is as well as the Axolotl he got for his birthday last August…it’s much bigger now, but I must admit those front paws seem kinda creepy to me. When doing the video, I asked him if Nana was still pretty or just looked old...he told me old. Guess you shouldn't ask a question if you don't want the honest truth from a kid. Xander also loves to text and I have to laugh because he doesn’t know how to spell his sister’s name…he does it phonetically. If the weather cooperates, I may be taking him and Arayli to the zoo next weekend.

          Anyway, no church or Easter candy for me today, but a good dinner, base touching with family and warmth and sunshine. As I finish this post, I find I am deeply thankful to whatever deity there may be for my health, family, friends, nature’s beauty, and the promise of more days ahead.

          Hope your Easters were happy as well.

4/16/2022

          I was raised with the idea that if you weren’t up and had accomplished something before 8:00 am, then you’d wasted the entire day. I find it amazing that I can still hear my mother and grandmother reciting those words to me whenever I get up late. I know that’s not necessarily true and that the belief has a lot to do with getting farm-like chores done early…I mean, how long can a cow wait to be milked???

          Anyway, Saturday morning, my love for my bed and its accoutrements just could not make me rise up and face the day. I know I woke up a number of times, stretched and snuggled back down in my nice warm bedding. It was actually 10:10 am when I finally pushed the covers back and got myself out of that bed. I tried very hard to ignore my mother’s and grandmother’s voices scolding me for being such a lazybones.

          The new dark shade I purchased and had AJ install really keeps my bedroom dark when the sun comes up. That allows me to ignore the fact the sun is up and I’m not. And, even though my predecessors continued to remind me about how I’d never accomplish the chores I’d decided to do today, I persevered and managed to pretty much complete every thing I’d planned…even taking breaks to read chapters in my latest book on my I-pad.

          Now that it’s just me, myself and I, laundry only gets done every two weeks. I have enough undies, washcloths and other stuff to last me for that entire time. I have to admit I really like not doing laundry every single Saturday. While I miss my doggies, I cannot believe how clean the house is staying without the fur and detritus brought in on the four (or eight when Kaizer was here too) paws each and every time a trip was made to the back yard.

          I did vacuum Saturday, but there wasn’t a lot of stuff to vacuum up. Still, I felt like I’d met one of the day’s goals…I really only clean house every other Saturday as well.

          There will be Key Lime Pie for Easter Dinner on Sunday. I made it late in the afternoon and would have actually had more than a few finger tastes if I hadn’t planned to make something special for Saturday’s dinner. I wanted to be sure to be hungry when it was ready.

          There’s a story behind what I wanted to make for dinner. Decades ago when I worked at the Primate Center at the University of Washington, I almost always brought my lunch, but the hospital cafeteria had two things I absolutely loved. The first was cinnamon rolls, but I didn’t often go there for coffee in the morning unless I went with a friend. The second thing on the menu which always had me putting my lunch in the fridge was fried chicken livers and mushrooms on a piece of toast. I absolutely loved that lunch. And, hopefully, if one of the folks I used to have coffee/lunch with reads this, they’ll let me know they remember too.

          Anyway, I, quite by chance, came across a fairly small container of fresh chicken livers…at $2.10, how could I pass it up. I purchased, brought home and put in the freezer. I took them out Friday night. Late Saturday, I rinsed them in a colander. I washed and cut fresh mushrooms in slices. Then I cut up some onion and garlic before putting flour, salt, and pepper into a bag. Butter was placed in a heated pan, followed by the garlic and onion. While that cooked, I put the mushrooms and chicken livers in the bag with the flour and seasonings. Finally, I added the floured mushrooms and chicken livers to the pan with some more butter.

          That might not sound all that good to you, but I have to admit it certainly tasted like what I remembered that cafeteria cook making all those years ago. It was a very yummy dinner although I wasn’t able to eat the entire pan.  I’ve a feeling I’ll have some leftovers for lunch on either Sunday or Monday, and hope they are just as tasty after being microwaved.

          Tomorrow will be Easter and ham dinner…even though I’m full, the thought of a ham slice between a split roll or biscuit sounds heavenly…not to mention the soup I’ll make with the ham bone.

          You know, I think I like cooking.

4-15/2022

           Once again, I skipped my fitness class but did do my home exercises…yay for me. I did leave the house because I had to go obtain some cash so I could pay for my haircut this afternoon and my nails on Monday. I like to pay cash for some of my expenses so the recipient can have it under the table or put it on their taxes.

          As I drove to and from the bank, the spring beauty was all over the place, and it was a good thing I didn’t look too hard at any one particular item or I would have had a car accident.

          Thought about going outside and doing some gardening, but it felt so cold and the wind was biting…why do they say biting…and sure, I would probably have warmed up as I worked, but my hands were so cold just from driving the car, I scurried back inside where it was warm.

          It was good to catch up with my hair cutter, and she reminded me we are going to be ushers the end of the month at a theater in Everett. We’re going to make an evening of it with dinner and maybe even a drink…will be sure to have gum, so the folks we’re ushering won’t smell the alcohol. I’m looking forward to that and it should be very fun.

          After my haircut, my friend Maryanne came over to have a glass of wine with me and catch up. She was limping badly and has a very painful knee. She has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow and I’m hoping the MD can help her out. This is a woman who has almost always been a gym rat and participated in some form of exercise. To see her and hear her so worried about her physicality and potential ability to continue yoga and walking made me feel bad for her. But, I’m holding good thoughts, rubbing Buddha’s belly, lighting candles and sending the most positive thoughts possible her way. I simply don’t see Maryanne just sitting on her couch reading books or watching TV.

          My granddaughter called as Maryanne was leaving and we had a nice long chat. Haley provided me with information I never knew and am surprised John never investigated. John’s grandfather immigrated from Sweden via the Boer War, the Boxer Rebellion and the Spanish-American War. The family joke is that he left to be a missionary and became, instead, a mercenary.

          Anyway, Haley had been researching the Karlberg name and found there is a Karlberg Palace in Solna Sweden It was built in 1630 and now houses what is now the Military Academy Karlberg on the Karlberg Canal. There is also a town/city called Karlberg. There is a Karlbergs BK which appears to be a soccer team.  Sofia Karlberg is a popular Swedish singer and songwriter. Wouldn’t be amazing to find out we were all related in some way, even distantly.

          John had an Ancestry account because of research his sister and cousin were doing. I saved what I thought was the log-in information, but, alas, that wasn’t it. On Monday, I’ll have to call Ancestry and see if they’ll let me into the data so I can provide Haley with the information so she can do additional research. I think I’ll also email cousin Kathleen and see what she can provide.

          I like the fact Haley is interested in family history because I have a pile of information, mostly for my side of the family, but cousin Kathleen has reams and reams in comparison. I told Haley when she comes back from school, we’ll spend some time on the information I have. I was wondering what to do with it, but if she’s interested, it’s all hers.

          Another good day with a nice surprise at the end.

4/14/2022

          Had a bit of frustration today, but I persevered and finished what I was doing. I hadn’t moved my bulletin board from my old bedroom to my new one, so that was what I thought would be a simple and small project. HA!!!

          I took the bulletin board down from the wall and measured the distance between the screws that held it in place. I went to the other room and CAREFULLY measured where I needed to place the two screws. Then, praise to me, I was able to get the drill bit to go into the electric drill and stay there. I already knew how to make the drill go both ways. I removed the screws from the first wall and carefully installed them in the other wall. Yay for me.

          Then, without installing the bulletin board, I updated the contents. Not a good idea. When I went to install it on the screws in the wall, I could not get the screws to go into the holes on the board simultaneously. So, I measured again and discovered I had measured incorrectly at some point. So, I removed one screw and remeasured and replaced the screw. Yay, done.

          NOPE, not done. I now have two holes in the wall for the one screw. So, I measure again, and again remove and replace the screw which now makes three holes for the one screw. But, this time, I apparently was able to actually make the correct measurement because both screws went into the proper holes and the bulletin board was on the wall. Yippee!!! What's that old carpenter's adage about measuring twice and cutting (screwing) once??? 

          Meanwhile, all the painstaking work I’d put into revitalizing the contents of the bulletin board was for naught. In all the attempts to get the board to fit on the screws, practically all the items on the board had fallen to the floor. So, I got to redo the bulletin board’s contents for the second time.

          So, project finished. It looks good. And, the two extra holes I made in my freshly painted wall do not show because they are behind the bulletin board. Whoever removes the BB from the wall will undoubtedly be appalled at my poor attempts to get it right…still, only three tries which I believe is great for me because my experience using power tools to accomplish projects like this has been extremely limited.

          There was a post on Facebook about the “Modern Widow’s Club” last week and I decided to follow up. I spent about an hour on the phone with the local leader and learned a great deal about MWC. This is an organization that has been around since about 2009; however, I didn’t find any information about it when I first became a widow. I’ve visited the web site as well and plan to attend their meeting in May. It would be great to make some new single friends, especially other women who would like a travel partner and are compatible with me.

          I also spent some time looking at two Viking cruises in Europe and then deleted the emails. The Ukraine isn’t too terribly close to where I would cruise on either of the trips; however, I decided I’d rather wait and see if that conflict is settled. I’d hate to be there should Putin decide to head further west. Maybe in 2023.

          I pulled out the fake dogwood blossoms and finally replaced the poinsettias I’d put in the big porch container. It looks great and I still cannot believe the previous owners put it out in front of their house with a free sign. It’s a couple of feet tall with Asian flower designs on it. It also has some Chinese characters and if I can figure out how to download the translation app, perhaps I’ll find out what they mean.

          So, not a lot of accomplishments, but for me it was a good day. Even though I talked to another widow about widow stuff, it didn’t make me want to climb into the closet and stay there in the dark. Spring continues to delight with all the burgeoning leaves, flowers and new growth. I just wish the weather would warm up a bit so I could get out there and get my hands, okay, my gloves dirty.

MUSINGS FROM YESTERDAY

          It’s entirely possible you give a hoot as to how I’m feeling today, but I’m feeling much better. In fact, I had a fairly good day yesterday after whining through my fingers. As the day progressed, some things popped into my brain. 

• As I drove around, I was amazed at how the trees are burgeoning with new growth. It is the most beautiful green and looks as though it would be as soft as a baby’s bum
• Drove by my second favorite tulip (magnolia) tree and it was practically shouting, “look at me, look at me.” My first favorite is down by Green Lake, but I don’t get there often. I have one in my back yard and in 20 years or so, it could possibly take over first place.
•  Enjoyed the sun as it played peek-a-boo with the clouds. I don’t think it rained until after dark, but it was very COLD. I didn’t walk.
• The meeting with the attorney went well and we only have to make simple changes to my will as everything else is still relevant. I didn’t realize they would need to file John’s will, death certificate and community property agreement…should have seen him more than two years ago.
• Finished reading, GOD EMPEROR OF DUNE, and it made me wish I was much better educated. There are things in the book that I didn’t really understand, but I still enjoyed seeing what would happen to Leto II. 

I also find it odd, and maybe it’s that way for everyone, how things just pop into my head that have been residing deep in the file cabinet. Most of the time, the thought/remembrance has absolutely nothing to do with what I’m doing at the time. I guess my old 286 just decides it’s time to push that particular file out of the drawer. Then, like now, when I try to think of them or remember what it was, it's returned to the dark space in which it was residing. Can be frustrating when it was something I wanted to remember. Guess I’ll have to begin making notes. That should be easy because I almost always have my phone and I can just talk to the notes app and then refer back…that’s if I remember to refer back.

I don’t know about you, but I look out the window at my garden and feel so astonished at how it’s changed in just a few short weeks. 

• What was just dirt now has a wide variety of greens and shapes that are seeking to completely cover the dirt.
• The kind of rusty-colored peony stalks are almost a couple feet tall.
• Raspberry vines are covered with small green leaf tufts.
• The Karlberg Memorial Apple Tree has a few blossoms. I wonder if it will become warm enough for the bees to pollinate and give me an apple or two this year.
• Tulips are blooming and the wild bleeding heart is ready to bloom while the regular bleeding hearts are blooming. 

So, there you have it. Today, I looked at yesterday and chose to see the positive. Each day I’m going to try to look at the day before and see if there isn’t something there that will make me smile or sigh with pleasure. I’m going to be  optimistic and look for upbeat thought, fun, great thoughts/remembrances. 

Already, I feel better because I am writing again. Definitely not going to win a Pulitzer or ever get published, but you know what? I don’t really care because I am doing this for me, myself and I…we’re all good.

FOOL'S GOLD

         

Fool’s Gold, that’s what my “golden years” actually are. You would think, having watched my mother, grandmother and even my great-grandmother whom I never met, go through their last years of life alone that I would have expected the same for myself. Not once did I think about, or even inquire about, their “golden years.” They all lived much longer than the age I am now, so I guess or expect to have many more years of Fool’s Gold. It sucks.

          Just this morning I was debating on whether to go to my exercise class. I didn’t go on Monday, so this would be the second time I’d miss. I also didn’t do my home PT/exercises today, although I did do them on Monday and Tuesday. I seriously wondered what the point was/is to trying to keep myself in good physical shape. And, okay, it’s so I can have a longer and healthier life. The only actual benefit of staying physically active, at least in my opinion, is that it will keep me from being put into one of those facilities for old people.

          Then, there’s being the only half of a couple that’s left and all your friends still have their mates. They are off doing fun things or even fighting with and appreciating or not appreciating each other, but they are NOT lonely. They have meals together, work around their homes together, sleep together; pretty much do everything a couple does. I, on the other hand, go for days sometimes without speaking to another human. No one cares if I cook dinner or clean the bathroom. It’s lonely and I’m, quite frankly extremely tired of being lonely.

          Some people have jokingly (I think) suggested I visit one of those dating sites on the internet….Silver Singles for example but it’s probably more like silverplate. Can you just imagine what kind of partners would be available for a 76-year-old woman? I can and I’ve already done all the caretaking of a male person that I care to. Nope, no new partner for this woman, dating site or no.

          It wasn’t quite so lonely when I had my puppies. Kaizer went over the rainbow bridge in October. I expected to have Karma for years, but she joined her son just a few weeks ago. Even if they weren’t sitting on me, wanting me to play or wanting to go outside, they were still here. The sounds they made as they moved around the house, or even in their beddies, were comforting. Now, it’s just me and silence unless I play music which I do most of the time.

          I’m not going to get another fur buddy and have given away all the dog/cat paraphernalia to insure I don’t. Still, I see people out walking their dogs and feel a pang. A friend just got a new black lab puppy and I so want to reach through the screen and hug/pet him. It’s kind of like another phase of my life has passed by. And, yes, I could continue the phase of pet ownership, but I’m choosing not to do that. So, you say, quit whining about it.

          Now there’s also the question of travel. I’ve been considering a Viking cruise in Europe, but fear keeps me from making the commitment. I wasn’t the least bit afraid in 2020 when I drove myself to the airport, left my car and took that wonderful Caribbean cruise, and returned home to my car in the middle of the night. I felt much younger than I do now and extremely independent.

Then came the pandemic, but I figured at some point I would get out there and go again. That was before I was seriously ill the end of 2020. Even though I didn’t feel very sick, it did a number on my body and it’s only recently I’ve been able to do as much or as many of the things I did before I got sick.

          What does that have to do with my getting on a plane for foreign places. Well, it’s fear. What happens if I get sick so far from home, become injured in some way or who knows what? How would I get back home? Would one of my kids have to come get me? I have no idea.

          Then, too, there’s the fact I would be traveling alone. When I went to Costa Rica on my own seven years or so ago, practically everyone on the trip was part of a couple. Based on something I heard, some of the women thought I was there trolling for their men…seriously!!! Still, I made a couple of traveling buddies, but at the end of the day, they went to their rooms and I went to mine. There was no one with whom I could rehash the day. It was pretty much the same on the 2020 cruise. It was fun, especially having such warmth and sun in February, but still lonely and not as fun as it could have been.

          Even when it comes to trips that would be more local, I find myself looking, thinking, and then closing the web site because it just seems like so much work for so little return. Right now, the tulip fields are in bloom and I think about driving up there, having lunch in La Connor or coming home by way of Edison and that fabulous bakery and that’s it…I just think about it. I make no plans.

          Anyway, today it appears I’m having “pity party” for myself and have chosen to share it through my blog with you. Perhaps part of the reason for the “pity party” was the notebook I recently made for my son entitled, “Instructions on what to do when I die.” He asked me about what I’d had to do for John and then asked if I could provide him with information. So, I did.

Add to that today’s appointment with my attorney to update my “estate” plan. Seriously, that’s what he calls it…to me, only folks like Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates or Warren Buffet have “estate” plans. So, we’ll talk, make changes to the plan John and I did together years ago. Then, that’s it. Between the upon my death instructions and the estate plan, my kids will know how I expect my “afterlife” to be handled whether it’s next week or 20 years from now.

When I had breast cancer 21 years ago, I decided to CHOOSE how I was going to feel each day and make that choice positive. I felt no fear then because I expected to survive and continue on with my life…and I did. So, why am I not CHOOSING to go on that European trip or even to drive to the tulip fields? I’ve thought about it seriously and think it’s the idea of being older and being afraid of what could go wrong as opposed to go right. That makes it so much easier to hunker down and go nowhere. It’s so much easier to sit on the couch and read a book, work in the garden, binge watch shows on the television.

I guess staying put seems so much safer, but it’s definitely not the way I expected to experience my “golden years.” Guess I’ll eventually learn to appreciate my “Fool’s Gold” experiences such as they are/will be. Or, perhaps once the estate plan has been updated and this pity party of mine over, I’ll feel much more positive and CHOOSE to stop hunkering down and get out there. Time will tell I guess.