Still in the Middle of things

 There I was by myself and those four boys had just told me ---- this is OUR fort, go home.

I stood there thinking I had as much right to be there as they did to be there. I decided I was going to stay. Then I became the target. Pieces of concrete flew by my head. Some of them hit the front of me. I got scared and ran home crying. Phil heard me crying and that's when we went back. Phil put a real hurt on those guys. Dad had taught Phil how to box so I'm sure did more that just talk to them. There we were -- Phil, four boys and me -- and then the MEN showed up. After Phil talked to the men we had to go home. I never saw those boys again. I must say that was a good thing.

Phil to the rescue.

The next day, mom was cleaning out the fish pond. As I have said before -- I was a nosey little person. The ways of the fish and how the water ran through and around the pond, how it got up to the waterfall -- it fascinated me. I figured the best way to find out was to get into the water and follow the flow of the water and the fish. Made sense to me. WRONG!

In I went. I got about half way around before something started nibbling me. The closer I got to the other side of the waterfall the more it stung. I heard mom call my name. I could tell from the tone of her voice that I was not supposed to be in the fish pond. Oh man, I'd done it again.

My curiosity had gotten me in trouble again. I found that you don't walk in water that is close to electricity. If the wire get frayed even a little it can shock you. It fascinated me that the fish weren't nibbling me it was the electricity. I also learned that the electricity was needed to make the water go back up the waterfall, so that it could come down again. The things you can learn when you ask a questions--or ramble around until you fine out something new.

Well, I never did that again; nor was I allowed to help finish cleaning that waterfall.

Some more houses. No one to talk to.

It was --just me. I was having to learn to depend on myself.

More Tomorrow

LINDA 

Dad the Flipper

Today Jerry would have been eighty-one, It has been a day of reflection of what I know of his life before and after we met. As far as I have found out he was always in the middle of all the fun. When the guys put the Volkswagen's of the science teacher in the top of the tree in the middle of the grounds at the high school. The time He and his brother went screaming into the house telling their mom there was a snake in a burlap sack.  When we were kids all the school rooms had the ABC's pasted on to the wall so the kids could learn the alphabet.  Jerry learned it backward.  Yes he learned it ZXY.  He even sent a letter to our friends while he was in Nigeria--it was all in backwards and on bathroom paper. Barbara still has that paper.

Chapter One

I've about decided that my dad was a house flipper. I remember lots lf houses over lots of years. The house I remember best is the one in Los Angeles in the area that was Culver City at that time but now it is Universal City. Down the street from our house was a lot. At that time a lot was just open land waiting for a house to be built. This lot had LOTS of weeds and LOTS of concrete walkways. Something new and exciting. Something for a lonely young girl to keep her imagination going. The stories I would make up about why the concrete walkways were there. Millions of reasons. Why would someone put this amazing  puzzle so close to out house? It was a wonderful place for me to be. Did I even think that this was someone else's? No of  course not. It never even occurred to me that I could get into trouble, until the day the man came into sight. Someone began hollering: I began to get scared. He walked to where I was and told me that those walkways were for foundations for new homes. I was not supposed to be there as I could get hurt---I had to go home---but I didn't have to like it.

Those twists and turns were a lot like a maze. Twist here and then they go a little way--twist again and go the other way. Dead ends. Weeds. Trash. Those concrete  walkways had grabbed hold of my imagination and would not let me go.

After a week or two, of course--- back I went. The concrete walkways were calling my name. 

That day I went back, there were four boys picking up pieces of concrete and throwing them at each other.  I was watching them just like I watched Phil and his friends. Little did I know or suspect what was coming. One of them saw me and said," what are you doing in our fort? Go home, now ?"

More Tomorrow

LINDA

Foggy Today

 Today we had 100% fog when I got up. I for one don't like fog and here is why. One morning as I was going out the door to take the kids to school and me to a different school to work, I count not see to the street because the fog was so thick. Well I had to go because the schools were calling my name. Backing out of the driveway I realized that I had gone too far and wound up in the ditch--thankfully the ditch was not very deep or full of water--but there was a post holding up the fence and guess who bumped the post.  You got it--I did. A small scratch and my name was mud!. But we got to our schools right on time.

More about Jerry and me. 

Probably the schools you went to numbered, five. I went to twenty-six schools, and found something to like about al of them. I don't remember them all these days, I just remember that number. I do remember at one move the new class was seventh grade and not Junior High. Talk about a situation. It made me feel like I had done something wrong and had to go to baby school again. That was because the one I had left was in an Oklahoma Junior High school. We had to change classrooms to get to the next lessons. This new school, we stayed in the same room all day. Baby stuff. But the teacher was so good. Mrs. Waller was her name and she made us feel and think like adults. It was a good year. I don't remember many names of teacher or school and that's understandable because there was a boatload of schools and teachers. 

I married at eighteen and had our first child at nineteen and my second at twenty-one. This same person became a woman who lived lived in two different countries on tow different continents for a total of twelve years, six years in England and the same in Tunisia North Africa which gave me a wide spectrum of things to do and a realization that people are just people and all of us have our own different culture.

How did all this become me? How does it combine itself into the confident person who takes care of Jerry during his good days and his bad? It's been an awesome seventy-five years.

This book was started July 10, 2017, it was only a month later that e passed from this world into the light.

Now we begin with how it happened.  

Stay Calm-Have Courage

LINDA

        

Why I've Been off the Blog so long

I don't even remember what was the last time I got on the computer to talk to you all. I am sorry about that, but a lot has been going on at my house. 

First thing is that I wrote a book about my husband and Alzheimer's, and there was a lot to cry through and a lot more to just think about. As I wrote a chapter I realized that all the time I wrote I began to understand all the things I went through as a child, as a new mom and an ex-pat in England and also North Africa, God was preparing me to be able to care for Jerry until the last twenty one days he was at home. The kids and I were really thankful for how things went--even though we cried a lot and prayed a lot and finally accepted that he really had Alzheimer's.

Its been four years, and some times I get teary eyed but that's because I still sometimes think I could have done more, cooked different food, gotten into the shower with him so I could wash his hair. But I can't change anything, I can just remember our lives from the age of fifteen to age seventy six. 

There is time for me to say a little of what I wrote and if you have questions or just need to talk leave a note. 

Jerry, Alzheimer's and Me

Because of this adventure Jerry and I are on, I have found out that what I learned and went through as a child made into who I am now. As a child I was bold, but only around my family. To tell anyone but family that I needed something or want anything, was a non-happening. Forget it. I was the little girl who was always in her own as I was always the new kid on the block. The little girl who was shy, too shy to do anything but find some clay and make a tea pot, plates, cups and saucers so I could have a party with Sally my doll. I was the little girl ho would tell stories during recess because the other kids liked to hear them, it made them happy. They never acted like they knew that most it was just made up. I was the same little girl who when screaming down the street because her mom had passed and she didn't even know mom was that sick.     

More Tomorrow

LINDA

Jerry-Alzheimer and me

It hurts to see your loved one get to the place that they don't know any one by name.

Jerry, and I'm sure, would answer any question and would seem to know exactly why and what was being talked about. I could see that he had no clue as to the things that were being talked about. It was so crushing to me to see him like that. His smile never left his face until that last three weeks he lived. 

In 2003, we were going thru the traffic from Fort Worth to Dallas so we could go see his mom. We got half way to the turn off on I45 south and he said, to himself, “ I don’t know where we are. Are we gonna make it to Moms?” My reply was “we’ve been down this road for 15 years, and chuckled! His reply, loud and mean sounding. At first it scared me but then I said,” we’re going the right way you’ll find I45.” And he calmed and that was the last of it. For a while. 

Day Two after the Impeachment

Today is an eye opener for some of us. Even thought I expected that Polosi-it's as hard to spell her name as it is to figure out what lie she is going to tell next.

Anyway, on to the rest of the story. I really thought that she would turn over the papers this morning. I was soooooo wrong. She has decided to keep them until she knows what is exactly going to happen with those papers.

I think shes keeping them so she can play "being the person who started the USCMA." That wonderful agreement that Trump penned last year and she made sure that they were not put forth until He was not in a position to tell anything about them.

See, this is what I have figured out----Polosi is a bully in the passive-aggressive genre. She doesn't want people to figure out how thoroughly she has her hands on all things that come across her desk, and really doesn't let go. If I had been that sneaky with  thinks like that with my husband he would have divorced me.

And I think WE THE PEOPLE need to divorce her next time she election comes up. We need someone who loves this USA. In this order---God--her job, meaning the best for this country--and then her family and the rest of that world.

I for one, am tired of these Dummiesare the PEOPLE  in DC thinking that everyone one else is stupid. I am not stupid. I started collage at 58 and a community collage. I finished four years later with an 3.85 GPA. That is not a stupid person. Millions of "the rest of us" are not stupid either.

Lets let DC know that we are tired of being castoffs like they think we are.

WE  THE PEOPLE --I  like that.

More Tomorrow. 

The Impeachment

I've been like a lot of people, watched all that garbage on TV and didn't google anything.

That is until today., Today I got mad. The people in DC are wasting OUR money to keep on with things as they want them to be. No thoughts for the people who send in all that tax we pay for their salary which they don't work for. They just bitch at each other. Or rather, about each group of people.

The law says that the papers about the impeachment HAS to be turned over to the senators. Ms. Pilosi thinks she can keep as long as she sees fit. So, if its a law,  and she says she wants to go by the laws of this country, why doesn't she hand them over. What is she worried about.?

Just before I started this today I wanted to find out something more about the Biden son who worked for a company in Ukraine and another in Hong Kong. The pages were not filling out with words , just pictures. That makes me think that someone has decided to fiddle with the internet pieces about Biden. That makes me wonder what the family is trying to hide.

Bidens kids went to work in Ukraine while Obama was in office. I know that the law says that the president has to give up all of his businesses, Jimmy Carter had to give up his businesses. And he did, until he got out of office, as did his children.

If it is the law that the whole family has to give up, why did Bidens son stay on the payrole?

Trumps family quite working in the family payrole. Maybe that's it, Biden didn't own the place in  Ukraine so his son could work.

I don't know it just seems not right to me.

There is so much untruth going around this country, how do we know what's right or not.

So here we are with all these-fib-Ukraine-this person and that person secretly behind the peoples backs-and we still don't know what's going on. We don't know because they - meaning the media and others - find it's easier to tell untruth than is is to just tell the truth.

There will be more here.

I for one want to know about the impeachment papers and the constitution. Who gets them, who hands them over to whom, and how long can they be in the first persons hands.

Lots to ask questions about.

More Tomorrow.

Its a beautiful day today

Its fall according to the calendar. And here in Oklahoma the wind is blowing. And yes, the song is right---the wind comes sweeping down the plain. The pecan trees are shaking their leaves so the nuts will be coming down soon. I usually just let the squirrels have the pecans because I would eat them all if I have shelled ones to eat.

I've seen hummingbirds, and more spiders than I really wanted to see. And rain for tomorrow and lows will be in the 50s. That's getting cool enough for the grass to start hiding in the ground. That means less mowing. Halloween in October, Thanksgiving in November and Christmas in December. And then the year of 2020.

When Jerry was a child his family would go to Ma Hundley's house one time while all that was going on. Ma was Jerry's mother's name. But most of the time they would stay on the farm. My family didn't always go back to Dallas, but we went enough times that I remember.

We would usually travel at night. Dad told me later that he has to drive then because my brother And I would fight constantly. I would watch the stars in the sky over the Mojave desert, making up stories as we traveled. Cars were different right after WW2, and we could see through the big windows on the doors and the window on the back of the car. I didn't know the names of the stars, or even that there were stars with names. Sometime down the rode I would go to sleep.

There was one night trip that woke me up. At first I thought -- those stars are so bright! Then--this is so great-there are all kinds of colors coming from those stars. By then I was more awake and sat up. It wasn't stars--it was the lights in Las Vegas. They were so bright -- some blinking--some going up and down--some of the neon pieces were talking and some were moving...awesome!

In 2003 we took time for a vacation and were on our way to Yosemite to see the big trees. We went thru Las Vegas and it just wasn't the same. We stopped for breakfast and we went down the strip. And then over the dam. We got to see the west side of the water and the went on. We wound up spending the night in Kingston.

The last time I remember Kingston it had snowed and it was melting and so very slick. Dad helped us all into the room--don't remember food but I'm sure there was something. When we got up the next morning the snow was gone. The only thing I remember about Kingston is that dad couldn't believe that there was snow in the desert, I found out much later from instructors in college that there is a high desert and there is low desert.

It was so much fun to tell Jerry these things and then I'd ask him things that his family had done. Places thy had gone and all the fun times in their little community.

But that's for the next time

More later.

Taking Time Off

Vacations are important. They clear the brain, they give us a better understanding of different cultures, they let us put on our childishness and just have a good time. New food--New culture---New landscapes! All because we took a week or two to see all that.

When we were in New Mexico, we spent a lot of time in Durango Colorado and Cortez. But then we had the time when we went to the BIG trees. You know the BIG redwoods in Yosemite park.

We saw something about them on the TV and Jerry just didn't believe that trees could be that big. Fall freak was coming so I talked him into going to see those huge trees.

He toke a week off and went west. Things are really different after you leave the mountains. The Mojave was spectacular. The road going north was so green and yet the ground was dry. We passed Rena and went straight to the park. The only thing is that I had navigated us to the top of the park---and the trees were n the south of the park.

Ladies would you believe that he just laughed.

When we found the trees, he was dumbfounded.  He didn't really know what to say. He walked around one big tree and because his boot was 12 inches long he knew that the first tree was 60 feet around and the other was 75. 

We took off south and went through Bakersfield and all those towns. The ground is very sandy, that does not mean it's not beautiful. Just different. Started back to Farmington and took the southern route. Went thru the land of the crater and the petrified forest, saws the sighs to Scotty's Castle, but we went on and finally stopped and had a good supper and made are way home on the fifth day.

That was the longest vacation we ever made. Well he did put his food on five continents, 17 different countries and America. My bucket list includes a Amtrak ride all round the USA.

NanaNews

Things go kinda crazy sometimes. I thought that I would be able to find an agent real quick. It seems that everyone has gone to self publishing. I don't have time for that.

If any of you know of a good agent please let me know.

The things that I have been posting are all from the book I wrote after Jerry passed. We had some good times and then we had some funny ones.

This one was so funny......

     Having grown up in a family that tried all kinds of vegetables and cuisine; I liked broccoli and garlic, and cilantro and celery. I cooked chicken smothered with onions and garlic and cinnamon. I baked the big bass that he caught on a fishing trip and had stuffed it with onions and apples. I thought it was wonderful. He didn’t.

      He liked southern food. And I have learned, over the years, how to cook what he likes and in return he has learned how to enjoy food from different countries.

    The first skirmish happened over the Red beans he wanted. After going all around the store looking for red beans, I finally found them. In the section where they were there were white beans, lima beans (they are green), I found the split peas, and I found the RED beans. And I found the pinto beans that are brown. I took the RED beans home and read the package directions. It said to put them in water over night and then it read how to cook them the next day. The beans went into a pot and then into the fridge for probably 12 hours or a little longer. The next morning, I read the instructions again. Poured off the water and covered the beans with fresh water; brought it all to a boil and cooked for two hours, just as the instructions said.   For TWO hours. When Jerry got home. I filled his plate with RED beans and cornbread that kept breaking into chunks. YUMMMMMMM.

     Then he took a bite; he spit them out. Those beans went all over that kitchen. “That’s not RED beans” he said—loudly.

     Back to the grocery we went so he could show me the RED beans. Well, we found the RED beans. I know they were RED beans because the package said they were RED beans. RED kidney beans. The ONLY package that had RED written anywhere on the package. He looked through all those packages and finally found what he was looking for. “THIS is RED beans,” he said. I said,” The package says PINTO beans.” My family did not eat peas, beans, corn on the cob, nothing like that. My dad’s family used all that as fodder for the animals on their farms. I don’t know about my moms’ family and beans and corn. I do know she never cooked any beans at our house.  Well, she did cook green beans. Over the years and after all the different countries he was in Jerry learned how to eat and like lots of different vegetables. He even ate Brussels sprouts if they were fresh from the market.

     I tried the way I got kids to eat different things with Jerry. I’d cook the Brussels sprouts with no salt so they were less harsh and sweeter cooked that way. Then on would go some butter and salt. He ate a lot of veggies and never asked what they were.

     First lesson learned by both of us. Don’t assume that your spouse knows what you are talking about. Ask questions. LOTS of questions.

More Later

NanaNews

I've been watching talk shows and home programs and I am so happy to see that people are beginning to understand that the shuffling around the fact that all of us need to belong to a family and the best way for your kids to know that they are part of that family is to expect them to help at home--no money involved.

When I was seven and my mom got sick -- which I didn't know about -- U had chores. Not a lot but things that had to be done every day to make the family work like a clock.

Here's what I mean----

     Things were changing again. This time Phil was pressing his own shirts. Mom would be gone for a couple of days, as I’ve said. Then she’d be home. Sleeping a lot. Phil and I would fix dinner and wash the dishes. Then this old woman came to the house and would clean and get us kids ready for school. I remember that she thought that it was terrible that I couldn’t comb my hair and put it in braids. It was either learn how to braid my hair or go to school looking like a banshee. It took me a while, but I learned how to comb and braid my hair. No more banshee for me!! I was seven when we got the house keeper. She would go home after we got back from school. The evening meal was cooked for when dad got home. It was our after school job to wash the dishes—pots and pans included. Dad divided the chores. My job was to wash the plates and silverware and glasses. Dry them and put them away. Because most of the pots were cast iron those day, Phil’s job was to wash them and put them away.

     I couldn’t touch the faucets while standing on the ground, so I got a chair, put the back of the chair to the counter and washed dishes. I had to stand on the counter to put the plates and glasses in the cabinets. When we bought this house, my kids found me standing on the counter cleaning the cabinets and they had a fit. So, I had to promise that I would use a ladder from then on.

I felt needed and part of a family because I could help when I was needed. Kids just feel better when they can help and when someone cares enough to tell them to behave themselves and mean it!

NanaNews

One of the things I like about blogging is that I can write things that I want to. I can stretch the fun a little and still enjoy the day.

Today we are going back to LA when I was 6 maybe.....

     Another thing I learned during that time in Eagle Rock changed my life forever.

     A little way from our home a man kept turtles. Huge turtles, with big humps. A small child could ride on one of those beautiful beasts. One day I was watching the mom and the baby turtles. The male was off by himself. A guy, a grown-up guy, came out of the house with melons and tomatoes, celery and carrots. The turtles lifted their heads and slowly came over to the fruits and veggies. They opened their big mouths and began tearing the food into smaller parts. Eating as they tore the food apart. The guy came over and told me a lot about the turtles. Galapagos turtles, he told me. Even in those days they were becoming scarce. The male had gotten a cracked shell and he was taking care of that turtle so his shell would heal and the turtle didn’t get an infection. He asked me not to ride him as it was not completely healed. Never did ride that turtle, but I got to put out the food if I got there in time.

     One day there was two girls around my age watching those turtles. I saw them trying to ride the male one day. Now, that man had told me about the crack in that turtle’s shell. I didn’t know anything about them, but it did not feel right to just stand there and let them hurt Mr. Turtle. I got up the gumption to tell them that they were hurting that turtle and they laughed at me and went home.

     It still bothers me when I see anyone harming another person or animals. God just gave me a heart for taking care of people and animals who need help. I am so blessed that He did, as I knew what to do for Jerry. I would know when he needed to go the doctor and when to wait.

     Sometime later we, those girls and I, happened to walk home from school together. They asked me to come back and play with them the next day. They did some very strange things. but I kept on playing with them. I don’t know why, maybe I was just trying to figure out why they were so strange. I just wasn’t used to having girlfriends, maybe that was why--

Until…...

one day after school, mom sat me down and told me those girls were not nice and she didn’t want me to play with them anymore. She didn’t act mad, just very firm. I paid attention because my mom was never firm about anything unless she meant it.

     I started coming home a different way. Up the side of the mountain and through a few yards. I didn’t see them for a long time and then one day there they were in that tree across from the turtle’s yard. They called to me to come and climb the tree, so they could tell me some wonderful news. Why did I do that? I had no idea, but the I do know now. The first thing that came into my mind was, from that tree I could see our backyard and if mom came out, I could get down really quick. There was something or some reason for climbing that tree. Second reason, they were so changed. They were happy, happy, Happy. The bad words were gone and replaced with much better language. I had to find out what caused that because then mom might let me play with them.

     Also, their faces glowed with happiness and contentment. Completely changed. Beautiful twinkling eyes.

     We’ve found Jesus—they said.  

     Who is Jesus? —I asked,         

     They told me about Jesus being the Son of God. How He loves us. Both speaking at the same time.

     Their words flowing like water.

     Then I heard that I could have the wonderful life that Jesus has for all of us, and we could be sisters in JESUS.

     After seeing how happy they were now—so different than before, of course, I wanted that too.

     And it was right there in that tree I asked Jesus to take me into His family. To take me and make me His. I could feel the difference in me even at the age of six. I felt enthused, clean but most of all loved and not alone anymore.

More Tomorrow

9/11

Need I say more.

I remember that day just as most of us do. I remember where Jerry and I were when we learned about the horrendous attack on innocent people.
What do you remember?

We had been to Jerry's mom's house for a reunion with a preacher friend of ours that had come to visit with Louise and RT--and be thealso  preacher at the revival the church had once a year.

The revival was only four days, I can listen to Bill White for more days than that. He's on YouTube if you want to hear some good sermons.

Anyway, He was getting ready to go back to Florida. We were packed and ready to go. Bill got a phone call. The look on his face was --- I don't know how to explain it.  He wasn't scared, he wasn't overcome with grief, nor was he laughing. I guess you could say he was ready to get home--but in a hurry.

We left, as we had a four hour trip to Duncan. An little time with the kids and grand kids and then another 16 hours to Farmington.

When we got to Dallas on I20, every car and every truck were going no more than 40 miles and hour instead of the usual 80 to 90.

We both thought that there had been a wreck up the road. That did'n show up. I asked Jerry if he thought we had encountered the beginning of the tribulation and we didn't get taken to Heaven.

Then I turned on the radio to WBAP. And the second tower went down.

It took us more than four hours to get back to Oklahoma.

I had seen the carnage done to the Murrah building in Oklahoma City. I don't want to see that again.

This is AMERICA and we will stay that way

FUN IN THE SUN BACK IN 1948

The giant Ferris wheel on the pier at Santa Monica beach has been transported to Oklahoma City Okla. It looks so said out there in the pasture by the Oklahoma river, even though the river has become a major entertainment center in the capitol city.

I knew that ferris wheel when I was just a child. Loved the waves hitting my feet. I used to like to get out farther, until that day that Phil had to rescue me because the waves got too high and I couldn't come up for air.

Mom would take us to a day long swim or nap or sand castles and for lunch. Here's some of the thngs I  put into the book  that will explain what we did way back in 1948.

     Lots of things happened in those days. I learned to ride a bicycle. I remember the food. We found peanut butter in the deli area of the butcher shop. It looked good. The meat man brought it out of the cooler, so we could smell it. It smelled just like peanuts. Yummm, he gave us a slice to try. Was it DRY? That is not the half of it. First bite --- it took my breath away. Literally! Mom even had to blow into my mouth, so I could get some air. WAY too much for one bite.

     Speaking of food, we had wonderful Asian, awesome Mexican, mom’s homemade apricot jam, milk with lots of cream. Mom’s Chow Mein. And her pies! The ease with which she made pie crust. She made coconut crème, apple, strawberry, lemon, pumpkin and I don’t know how many more. All were good, and all were homemade. Mom let me watch her cook—up to a point. She would put me onto the counter and I would “help” by putting the used spoons and bowls into the sink. I got to wash them too. I couldn’t use the stove because it was too tall for me to even get close to. I watched, and I learned how to cook. Just so you know it’s extremely easy to make pie crust when you do it mom’s way.

     One night we were going to the Grauman Chinese theater to see a new movie. We had dinner at the Asian restaurant adjacent to the theater. I love Asian. Those awesome scents in the air—garlic, ginger, soy - I loved it all. I also like to try new things to eat and when dad got his soup I wanted some too. It smelled sooo good. A cute spoon and wonderful aroma. When I looked into the bowl there were three green peas. Dad told me it was “bird’s nest soup.” And, of course, you know it, I had to say loudly, “bird’s nest?” But I did finally eat it and it was the best soup I’ve ever had.

     To be truthful I have forgotten the exact year that all this happened. We were at war and having to recycle newspapers and glass—planes in the air and submarines in the water. Recycling cans, and bottles--each color had to be put it a separate container—cans that had to be clean and smashed and      the top put inside. Newspapers had to be tied up with string, and the other paper was tied up too. We had the blackout curtains and we had an earthquake that moved the piano from one end of the living room to the other. Mom at four feet eleven and me shorter than that moved that piano back into place. And that means that the sequence of these goings on are probably not in order—but everything happened as I am writing.

      Summer time meant food and ocean. Santa Monica Beach. I can hear the waves pounding into the sand, I can smell the water filled with salt and seaweed. I can see the very tall Ferris Wheel that protruded out into the ocean as you would start down from the very high top. The sun beating down on us as we took our naps. Phil probably didn’t take a nap being almost four years older than me.

    I remember the lunches mom brought for us. Celery, carrots, bread, fruit, water in a jar, and boiled eggs.

     Have you ever eaten a boiled egg while the wind was blowing sand into everything? Eggs included!!

     Boiled eggs are not bad. I have them a lot. In fact, I really like boiled eggs. I just don’t like my boiled eggs with sand. Not good---at all.

     When you’re five or six and you go to the beach for the day, it’s so soothing. Living in wartime is stressful—especially for kids. The wind was blowing so I put that first egg into my mouth—egg yolk and all—I couldn’t breathe. I finally got that yolk out and looked down to my plate and there it was. Another egg. I knew I couldn’t go through that clogged airwave again. So, I thought about it and decided to take care of those eggs for good. I buried those hummers in the sand. As far as I could get them to go, I pushed and pushed and finally I couldn’t see any yolk. I didn’t want to hurt mom’s feelings. I couldn’t NOT eat the egg. But the little children on the other side of the world who didn’t have enough to eat would really like those boiled eggs. To eat. Sand and all!!! I didn’t care because I had found a way to get rid of those lethal egg yolks. Without mom’s feelings getting hurt.

     I’ve often wondered what happened to those yokes.

     Another wondering was this. Did mom ever know that I buried those sandy things?

More about Jerry

When Jerry and I married he really didn't like to have dogs in the house. He was a farmer guy and the dogs were outside so they could  bark when things were going on outside that didn't need to be going on.

Like someone trying to get the cows, or get food out of the smoke house, or coyotes getting in the chicken house, or maybe even skunks.

I on the other hand liked dogs in the house. Dad got a chance to get a dog from the man who raised and trained all the Lassies. We had two bt one had some kind of disease that almost ate his skin off. Remember that I was only a seven year old when we got that dog, so I don't know all the problems that this puppy had. Then we got Pepper.

Pepper needed more grooming than I did. But we had pepper until he died after we had been in Oklahoma City for a while. I don't know where he went. I just know that he got sick and didn't come home from the vet's.

When Jerry and I got married we got puppies after we moved to town and had our own apartment. His mother was not used to dogs in the house.

We had puppies until we went to England in 1973. England has a quarantine for animals for six months. Families are able to visit the cats and dogs, but they are not allowed out of the cage. Louise, that's Jerry's mom, said they would take the dog for the two years we were gone. She took good care of that dog and even let her sleep in the house.

Then we got Mandy for me and Killer for Lynn the Christmas of 1978. We were going to have Yorkie babies. And we did. First litter was one puppy.  We named her Priscilla because she was so prissy. The second litter was EIGHT. No more puppies!

We've had two others and Jerry fell in love with both of them--of course that's because he was home to see them grow and have them pick him as THEIR person.

It's been two years and one month since Jerry died and Sarah is sleeping on the floor that was the side of the bed Jerry slept on. I guess she just knows that that's where he slept.

Sad but true.

Flowers--Jerry brought me flowers.

I love flowers. I even like the silk ones. We met in the fall of 1956, and by that spring we were inseparable.  His afternoon class was Agriculture and sports. I had seen those beautiful roses flowing over the walls of the rock wall. Beautiful light Yellow, Pink and then the red one too.

One day he met me at the door going out of the school and gave me this damp paper towel. He had picked that rose - taken the thorns off and wrapped the flower in that wet paper napkin so it would last longer. AND he gave me that rose in front of everyone.

He really did love me.

From the book---

After we met, we were never apart, meeting for lunch and walking back to the school where we would find a place next to my next class. He always had AG classes in the afternoon and he would wait til the last minute and then run fast to get to his class. I think he probably was late most of those days.

That first spring when the flowers bloomed I was amazed. There were roses all along the street outside of the high school. The AG barn was across the street from the main school building and even though it didn’t look like a barn, that’s what it was called. Surrounding the barn were various homes, homes that had roses. Some of which had grown enough to fall over the fences. And every Spring, every school day, he would bring me a rose. The thorns were taken off and he cuddled them up in wet paper towels, so they would stay as fresh as possible. When we moved to England he brought me flowers almost every time he went into Yarmouth. I’m sitting in front of my computer and I smell the flowers he brought me so often.

The year before he died was the last Spring he remembered the roses.

What came to my mind as I wrote that?

Even though he was having trouble talking, he knew that I loved flowers, so he brought me some. Some were Iris. Some were roses. Some were those little purple flowers, weeds actually. But all were given to me in love. I was overwhelmed when he brought that first hand full of roses that last time.  What a soul filling thing to do. He was getting worse every week and he saw those roses. He even took the thorns off like he always did. He loved me and showed that. Very simple but so heart felt. 

More Tomorrow

Can't let this go

Today I have Sarah and Baby Girl to stay with me..Baby Girl is Dave's furry person and you know that Sarah is mine.

Have you ever watched two dogs lay down?  In all my years I have never noticed that dogs, not puppies, sleep facing the same way. It's like the Alpha female or male, has the choice and all the rest have to follow.

Last night I was looking at the dogs and they were both sleeping with their heads to the west and on their left side.

Then later after drinks for the both of them, they laid down again and were facing west again but they were on their right side. Then they moved to the north.

It was so interesting to watch them as switched places and stopped facing the same direction.

What would we do without our furry babies?

Sarah gets onto the sofa with me every morning and after about thirty minutes she goes over to the recliner.  Then she might go the the old recliner.

But, if  I go into the kitchen she follows me and begs for food. She doesn't play with toys. She's never chases a ball. She has never-----add what you want. She just likes food. So when she got to be 19 pounds I put the both of us on a diet. We get good food, but not as much as we used to. We also get ice cream every once in a while. And we get yogurt. No sugar just the sweet from the peaches.

We both are doing good with the food.

And one day I'll find out if other dogs sleep like Baby Girl and Sarah.

More tomorrow

Changes are coming

I have come to a place in my life that I need to address.

This blog name has run it's course and I am in the process of starting another blog.

Sometimes we just need help with family members who are older. I myself am not a spring chicken, but I know one day I will need to know that there are people who can keep me happy and socialized and just in a good mood.

So I started this blog -- StayCALM-HaveCourage.  It will be a few days until it's all ready and I will let you know.

I will continue with this blog too, but I will change the things that I blog. 

More later

Alzheimer lets talk about it

This is not an easy thing to talk about, but it's necessary because there is not a family in this country that hasn't had someone in their family that hasn't had this problem.

As Jerry went farther into this disease, I found myself, Not overwhelmed, realy--just a little confused.

The road rage was the first thing that really bothered me. In the book I wrote this---

And then comes the driving, actually, not driving episode.

Driving was an adventure to be nice about it. I looked up one day and he was striding the white line down the middle of the road.

You’ll get put in jail for reckless driving—I said.

No answer.

Why don’t you move over to the right—I said.

I have it—he said

What do you have—I asked.

I can get to one side or the other and they can’t get in front of me—he said

Road rage!!!

I talked to the kids and they agreed that he didn’t need to be driving. I thought and prayed because for some reason he wouldn’t let me drive when he was home—and now I was going to have to take the keys away from him. Then God told me—it’s time. I began asking him to let me drive so I could get used to it again in case I needed to drive. That was ok with him.

A month or two went around. He had begun helping me by cleaning the kitchen after I cooked and then put dishes in the dishwasher. I cooked, and he cleaned. He came into the living room from the kitchen ne night. I could tell he was upset. He got half way into the room and putting his fist to his hip asked, “why can’t I drive.”

I was almost too firm when I told him that I was getting tired of having to tell him which way to turn or to go straight. But that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. This is where it was all God’s words. I took a big deep breath and said,” if you want to drive, just answer me this.”

Chapter 20

I asked him to tell me my name including my maiden name AND my birthday. Just like God told me to ask. Not loud, no sarcasm, no tears, just asking a question. I waited until he said,” well it is what it is.” “My name is not, it is what it is” I replied. He grinned and went and finished in the kitchen. I knew that asking for him to say my maiden name would be hard for him, as my maiden name is Kretsinger. He never did say it right. He told me he had to marry me, so he could say my last name—which was my married name by then.

And that’s when I was wondering if he didn’t know who I was. He knew he liked me, but he didn’t know that I was his wife. And yes, I cried about that. A lot. I still think about those times, of course, because he has not been in Heaven even a year. I wondered why he would not be upset when we got in the bed together. Because he didn’t know that I was his wife or even my name why would he not be upset when I got into the bed too. I did a lot of prayer about that. God told me this after that prayer was sent up to Him.

Don’t worry. It’s ok. He knows you in his being. He knows you love him and he knows that it’s what he needs. Your—meaning me—presence keeps him calm and as strong as he can be.

The next couple of days I kept those tears in but one day they dripped out anyway. I started out of the house, so he wouldn’t see me crying. He came and slowly and tenderly, turned me around and hugged me close, and gave me a kiss. Even though he didn’t remember my name, he was still taking care of me.

More tomorrow

Alzheimer-Jerry and me

I’ve about decided that Dad was a house flipper.   I remember lots of houses over lots of years. The house I remember best is the one in Los Angeles in the area that was Culver City at that time but is now Universal City. If I’m wrong about that let me know. Down the street from our house was a lot. LOTS of weeds and LOTS of concrete walkways. Something new and exciting. Something for a lonely young girl to keep her imagination going. The stories I would make up about why the concrete walkways were there. Millions of reasons. Why would someone put this amazing puzzle so close to our house? It was a wonderful place for me to be. Did I even think that this was someone else’s? No, it didn’t even occur to me. Was I worried I would get into trouble. Never. I don’t remember how long it took for someone else to find my spot. I was walking the walkways when this man hollered. He came to where I was and told me that those walkways were foundations for new homes. I was not supposed to be there as I could get hurt---I had to go home—but I didn’t have to like it.

Those twists and turns were a lot like a maze. Twist here and then go a little way—twist again and go the other way. Dead ends. Weeds. Trash. Those concrete walkways had grabbed hold of my imagination and would not let me go.

After a week or two, of course, back I went. The concrete walkways were calling my name.

The day I went back there were four boys picking up pieces of concrete and throwing them at each other. I was watching them just like I watched Phil and his friends. Little did I suspect what was coming. One of them saw me and said, “what are you doing in our fort?” They told me I had to go home; this was THEIR fort.

I stood there thinking I had as much right as they did to be there. I decided I was gonna stay. Then I became the target. Pieces of concrete flew by my head. Some of them hit in front of me. I got scared and ran home crying. Phil went there and put a hurt on those guys. And as far as I can remember, he did more than just talk to them. Dad had taught him to box and he was making good use of his teaching. There we were—Phil, four boys and me—and then THE men showed up. After Phil talked to the men we had to go home. I never saw those boys again. Phil to the rescue once more.

The next day, mom was cleaning out the fish pond. As I have said before--I was a nosey little person.  The ways of the fish and how the water ran through and around the pond, how it got up to the waterfall—it all fascinated me. I figured the best way to find out was to get into the water and follow the flow. WRONG!

In I went. I got about half way around before something started nibbling me. The closer I got to the other side of the waterfall the more it stung. I heard mom call my name. I could tell from the tone of her voice that I was NOT supposed to be in the fish pond. Oh man, I’d done it again! My curiosity had gotten me in trouble AGAIN. I found out that you don’t walk in water that is close to electricity. If the wires get frayed even a little it can shock you. It fascinated me that the fish weren’t nipping me it was the electricity. I also learned that the electricity was needed to make the water go back up the waterfall, so it could come down again. The things you can learn when you ask questions—or ramble around until you find out something new.

Well, I never did that again either; nor was I allowed to help finish cleaning that waterfall.

Some more houses. New kid on the block again. By myself again. No one to skate with or play dolls with. No one to talk to.

It was me-just me. I was having to learn to depend on myself.

Somewhere between the beach and Eagle Rock, Phil and I went to summer camp. Things were not so much fun at home. There was screaming and slapping at night. Lots of nights. It got so bad that I would climb into bed with Phil. He would pull me close and put his arm around me. Dad started taking us to the baseball games when the LA Angels were in town. We’d get home and it would start all over again.

That summer we were sent off to camp. I can only imagine how bad it was at home for dad to send us off like that. I do remember getting letters from dad, but I couldn’t read them because I could only read printing. The lady in the room kept telling me that she would read them to me, but she didn’t have time. And they stayed in my bag for the rest of the time we were there.

Do I remember anything about camp? Yes, I do, but not much. Memories include singing around the firepit at night. Crafts and bows and arrows. Playing in the lake. That’s when I found out fish pee in the water. Uggg!! AND we were swimming in that water!

It was the night of all nights. I suppose that being away from home had me worried. That night Phil was sitting across from me--my world lit up. Phil was there!! I was so happy. My Phil was there to be with me for dinner. And then they brought out the food. Someone put these green things on my plate. Slimy, fuzzy green food looks VERY unappetizing to a child whose life has been turned upside down. As they say it today I had “issues”—I’d say I was extremely afraid because my life was so hurtful. I, to this day do not eat fuzzy food.

I screamed. I cried. I ran out of the room. I’ve always been dramatic and obviously this was one of the best because I remember it after seventy years. Phil came running after me. Grabbed me and all I can remember anyone saying is---that’s the kids with parents who are getting a divorce, right? I had no clue what a divorce was. Phil told me something and I calmed down. We went back into the dining hall. I still wouldn’t eat any of that fuzzy green stuff! NO WAY.

The letters. AHHH the letters, from dad, finally. The letters that the counselor didn’t have time to read to me—or even find someone else to read to me. Finally, someone read my letters the day we were to leave. The major part was about what was going on at home. All good. Last sentence tells me to get on the bus home with Phil. That bus had already left. They put me on the other bus that went to a different part of LA. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time. Phil wasn’t there when I got off the bus. I had no idea where he was. I cried hot huge tears. Dad FINALLY showed up with Phil.

I cried--- again.

Dad was—of course—mad. But for some reason I knew he wasn’t mad at Phil or me. The car was an old one and going up Mount Wilson was not good on cars anyway. And another reason for him to be mad—he didn’t know where we were for a very long time. It was traumatic for all of us. I was wondering where mom was. This must have happened sometime in 1947. There was no divorce. But, I was anxious about that for a long time.