Electricity

When was the last time you thought about how great electricity is? I know that seems like a silly question but I have a whole new appreciation for it.
I visited my mother this past weekend in Michigan and the trip made me think about electricity a lot. You see the afternoon we arrived, so did a major thunderstorm and when it left it took with it all our electricity. Now when you are from Southern Indiana you come to expect these blackouts from time to time because they often accompany thunderstorms and thunderstorms are a common occurrence, but I wasn’t at home so I didn’t have my supply of LED flashlights, my candles, lanterns or my windup lights. The first thing we realized was that Mama doesn’t keep candles in her house and she has one flashlight. Luckily there were three of us with cell phones and in a pinch they work as tiny flashlights. Of course they also need recharged from time to time but we figured we would worry about that when the time came.
The next thing we realized was that Mama is on well water and the well pump doesn’t work unless, you guessed it, there is electricity. So now we are without lights, air conditioning, fans and water. We tried to convince the grandchildren that it was an adventure and that we would have fond memories of this weekend in the future but when the tornado sirens started to blast in the dark and they realized that there was no basement to run to they weren’t convinced. We discussed our safety training and decided the safest place was in the hallway away from all the windows. When my niece became upset and started to cry we decided that the logical thing was to sing songs about being brave and started with “I Whistle a Happy Tune.” So how many songs can you think of about rainbows, being brave and waiting for the sunshine? I think only a family that grew up singing together would find this the logical way to pass time during a storm but it seemed to help, well okay, not really that much for the frightened children. One thing that helped with the darkness was the huge flashes of lightning but somehow the kids didn’t find that comforting when each flash was followed by an eardrum shattering crash of thunder. So the first night in Michigan was spent hot, dark and noisy.
Finally morning arrived only to find out that there was still no electricity or water and the electric company said it might not be fixed until the next night. We spent part of the day picking up the limbs that had fallen in the yard and trimming up some still hanging in the trees. Then I busied myself working in the flower beds, which I love to do when I visit Mama. I’ve told you before that I love to garden and that morning I learned that my 17month old grandson also loves to garden because before I noticed he was elbow deep, digging in a flower pot of water and potting soil and he was covered from head to toes in black mud. Now I’m not a fussy grandmother and my daughter also has no problem with children getting dirty but as I mentioned earlier, we had no water. So we settled on the next best thing. We walked Henry over and allowed him to bathe in the mud puddle in the front yard. I’m not sure what the neighbors thought but I think Henry may want to take all his baths outside from now on.
We all laughed, sang and reminisced that weekend and it was nice not to have the distraction of television, computer and video games (but flushing toilets that didn’t involve pouring a gallon of water into the tank would have been nice). Mama said she wanted to be sure and write down all the memories we were creating and she hurried to the computer, then she laughed and took out her pencil and paper.

Trees in Southern Indiana

Trees in Southern Indiana are often considered big weeds. In the late spring and early summer you find them everywhere. There are small maple trees growing in people’s rain gutters, in the flower gardens and in the lawn. The same is true of the sassafras, mulberries and the catalpa trees. If you get to them right away they are easy to pull up and discard but if you leave them for a month you will find yourself having to dig them out.
So having explained that, I want you to tell me why is it that if you plant a tree on purpose in your yard you will have about a 50-50chance that it will grow. When I moved to my present home it had no trees in the yard. So I decided the easiest way to remedy that was to join the Arbor Day Society and get 10 free trees. You don’t get to pick which trees you get but I reasoned that any tree is better than no tree and they said they would make them native to my area. I received 10little sticks each color-coded with paint at the bottom of the tree and a list that was color-coded and named the trees as well as a planting guide. I dutifully planted the 10trees into my flowerbeds as they instructed, they said because of their size they would need the protection and the good soil for the first two years. I watered them and tended to them for the first summer and when the following spring rolled around I had six of the ten trees still growing. I thought that was pretty good considering they started life as painted sticks. So for a second summer I nurtured them and the following spring they were all healthy and ready to transplant.
Now, how many of you have transplanted a tree? It is a challenge to say the least and when the tree is twice your height it seems an impossible task. I read about how to transplant them and they suggested that you dig around them on every side until you can form a root ball. Then rock the tree until you can push burlap under the root ball and them move it ever so carefully to the new location and plant it. My first mistake was planting two of them too near the fence in the side-garden. With the trees near the fence there was no way to get to the fourth side so I decided to start with the tree in the circle garden by the back porch. I told my husband what the internet said about the root ball and the burlap but he said, “I have a better idea let’s just dig it up and move it. Trees grow like weeds here anyway.” So we did. We dug it up, which is no easy task when the tree is about 12 feet tall and then hoisted it into the wheel barrel and moved it to the back of the yard. There he dug a large hole and we sat the tree in it and filled the hole with good soil.
Well I think you can guess what happened to my little, well not that little, tree. It dropped its leaves and slowly died. I left it until this spring just to make sure it wouldn’t come back from the roots but it appears that won’t happen.
So now it is year three and I have a redbud in my back circle garden, a redbud by the fence in my side-garden, a crepe myrtle along the fence line in my side-garden and another one across the yard along the property line. Then finally I have a golden chain tree growing in the circle garden near the back porch. None of them have bloomed yet so I’m not even sure what color the crepe myrtles will be (I hope they aren’t white because I already had two white crepe myrtle trees I bought from the nursery). Anyway I am trying to decide if I should try to move any more trees or if I should just accept them where they are. They all bloom so I could just pretend they are big flowers. And the birds do like having their shelter.
I guess there is a lesson to be learned here: If you join the Arbor Day Society and they send you 10trees (painted sticks) and tell you to plant them in the flower garden for two years and then transplant them. Don’t believe them. I suggest you choose where you want the tree, plant it and then construct some type of protective enclosure to keep it safe.
Oh, by the way, my golden chain tree bloomed this year and is now about 16feet tall but there are still no blooms on the Crepe Myrtles.

As I sit down to the computer today the month of May is winding down. The weather is already hot and humidity hangs in the air so thick that it feels that your are wrapped in a warm, wet blanket. The children are out of school and dreaming of all the things that they will do on their 121 day break.

I remember the days of childhood and how special the month of May was. It started with a special holiday, May Day. Here in Indiana May Day isn't celebrated much. There is a parade in a county near here where the labor unions share their message to anyone who will listen (in that county it feels more like a political day than a holiday) and at the local school they have a May Day program with singing songs and the wrapping of the May Pole to celebrate their German heritage. But in my small town in Nebraska we celebrated May day with the delivery of May baskets. We made small baskets using paper cups and pipe cleaners or by rolling construction paper into a cone shape and adding pipe cleaners or ribbon. Next we filled the baskets with a little bit of candy or flowers, depending who would receive it. Then the game began. You would deliver your basket to a neighbor or friend by placing it on their door step, ringing the doorbell and running away. If the person could answer the door quickly enough to catch you before you left their yard they could kiss you. I have no idea who invented the game or why, but we loved to play it. In all honestly I don't recall ever being kissed. I don't think anyone ever tried very hard but it was fun just the same.

Mid-May was the time for the May Crowning at church. All the children of the church dressed up is their Easter best and processed in, they went to the statue of the Blessed Virgin at the front of the church and one of the eighth grade girls would place a crown of flowers on the statue, symbolizing that Mary, the Mother of Jesus was our heavenly mother and the Queen of Heaven. I remember hoping that when I got to eighth grade that I would be chosen to crown Mary. I really can't remember if I did or didn't.

As the month came to a close the schools would close their doors releasing all of us for the summer and we would dream of all the things we would do during the summer, forgetting how much we missed seeing our friends last summer and how bored we got after only a month off.

But I am no longer in Nebraska and today is the 30th of May in Southern Indiana. There were no May Baskets this year only a birthday cake for my husband, who shares May Day with the world as his birthday. My oldest daughter was sworn in as a lawyer in the state of Missouri and her son, my youngest grandson, turned one this month and celebrated with an Elvis birthday party. My oldest grandson, here in Indiana just finished school on Friday and already he is alternating between, "I'm bored." and "I know what we can do." May is Strawberry season here so you can go to the strawberry farms and pick your own strawberries or just buy them from the roadside markets. I remember our first summer in Indiana the girls and I were so impressed with the pick-your-own strawberry farms that we picked enough berries to last 10families two years. Every morning for about a week we would venture over to the farm which was just across the highway from our home and pick berries for about an hour.

Of course anyone in Indiana knows that Memorial Day weekend is the Indy 500. I've heard people in my extended family say, "Oh, I wouldn't be interested in that, I'm not in to car races." but the Indy 500 is not just a car race. It is the largest sporting event in the WORLD. Around half a million people attend the race and the festivities and preliminaries go on for almost a month. There are concerts, I know ZZTop appeared this year and special activities all around Indy. My girls were never race fans but ever since they were college age they have found the 500 to be an awesome weekend and one they look forward to. They meet a group of friends form across the state and nearby states and camp out for the weekend and watch the festivities and the race. For my youngest, who lives in Indianapolis, it is a week long event. I will admit that I have never seen the 500 in person but I am the only one in my family who hasn't attended. I hope that I will be able to in the next year or two. I have been to the Brickyard (the track where it takes place and the Indy 500 Museum that is located in the brickyard. I don't know if you can visualize it but the race track is a 2.5mile lap and I must admit even though I had no interest in car racing at the time, I couldn't help but be impressed. It really is something to see. And when you see the cares going over 200mph it really does take your breath away. I watched as they did time trials and was absolutely mesmerized.

So as May comes to an end, I will take a quick look back at what the month held and prepare to start the new month with it's sweltering heat, the farmer's markets, the fresh produce from my garden, and fresh salsa from my kitchen. I look forward to swimming at the lake and cooking out in the evenings. And of course I will continue my battle the rabbits, because once again there was yet another new litter born in the yard nextdoor.

Easter memories

Before you read this entry I think I need to post a warning of sorts. Many people tell me that I don’t remember things accurately or that I exaggerate or fabricate events and details of events. To this I respond, everyone experiences their world in a unique way. What you feel, see and believe is in fact your reality. So if you version of the past doesn’t match mine exactly maybe it may be because I choose to remember mine in a different way. Or maybe even while I was living it as the present I perceived it in a different manner. But this is my blog so I will present things as I recall them and hopefully if you were there it will remind you of things from your past even if you memories don’t match mine.
I can remember as a little girl how excited I was at Easter time. We would have spent the past “thirty some” days preparing for Easter through our Lenten sacrifices. I usually gave up candy or something similar, even though in reality we didn't eat candy very often at my house. It probably would have been more of a sacrifice to give up carrots or something that we ate regularly as snacks. When Holy Week finally arrived I would attend the Holy Thursday Mass with my family, followed by Good Friday services and then finally Saturday. I know that the Holy Week services were suppose to mean more to me than Saturday but remember I was just a kid. Saturday meant there were eggs to dye and the town's Easter egg hunt to attend. The egg hunt wasn't anything elaborate but you always got a small bag of candy at the end and to me that was really special. Oh and I usually, conveniently forgot that I had given up candy for lent or maybe I just thought it was close enough to Easter that it didn't matter. When we returned from the hunt it was time to color Easter eggs. This was always a big production at my house. Well, first of all you have to remember that there were usually 9-11 children involved in coloring the eggs. That in itself made it a major undertaking. We each got a certain number of eggs and each tried to create the best egg. We didn't just dye them; first you would decorate it with crayons or rubber bands and then dip it in one dye after the other trying to make yours the prettiest one on the table. I have never lost the fascination with this process and I have never celebrated an Easter without dying eggs. When Saturday night finally arrived there were Easter clothes to get ready for church in the morning. We usually had a new dress, even if Mama had to stay up all night finishing sewing them. I just knew that when you woke up there laid out on the couch would be 5 Easter dresses with bonnets and sometimes white shoes and gloves. My oldest sister didn't have her clothes laid out because she was 5years older than I was and too mature for this ritual. I always loved the way it looked with the pastel colors next to the white bonnets, shoes and gloves. The Easter bunny would visit in the night and leave each of us an Easter basket on the table but we couldn't touch it until after we attended Mass. When we finally returned from mass we would take turns hiding the colored eggs and finding them, while we nibbled at (or gulped down) our candy. If the weather was warm we would hide the eggs outside but living in the Nebraska panhandle meant that many Easters it was still coat weather or it might even snow. My senior year of High School we moved to Casper WY and we would joke about our Easter blizzard (which many years turn out not to be a joke) and usually eggs had to be hidden inside. I continued many of these traditions with my girls, the clothes laid out on the couch with bonnets, gloves and white shoes and the Easter baskets on the tables but the Easter bunny started hiding plastic eggs filled with candy or coins that were hunted before going to church. I think he realized that real eggs can be chewed up or smashed by a cat that finds them in the night and eggs that go unnoticed in the house start to stink after a couple of days. My girls are all grown now and are starting traditions of their own but we still come together on Saturday afternoon with the grandchildren and color eggs and we still vote on which is the prettiest, the most creative and the funniest. We still hide Easter eggs over and over again with my grandson that is old enough to understand how the game is played and we all take turns hiding and hunting. In fact he enjoys this game so much that we play egg hunt multiple time during the year whenever he is in the mood. It is our own version of hide-n-seek. This year we will dye the eggs and have our hunt on Saturday since that is when all three girls can be home. We will celebrate our oldest daughter’s 30th birthday on the same day, but that is another story all together. We hope to welcome a new baby to the family that weekend also, but babies don't always cooperate with your plans when it comes to their arrival. I know that when the weekend is over and we all return to work or school we will take with us the memory of another Easter spent as a family passing on memories and traditions to the next generation. Thanks God for the little things that make life so sweet. Easter Blessing to you and yours.

Rabbits in the grass

I have a neighbor that loves animals. I love animals too but we love them in different ways. I love them indoors. Hers are outside pets. I love them neutered or spade she doesn’t feel that is necessary. So when she got three beagles to breed and put them in what looked like a rabbit hutch to me. It wasn’t long until she had eight puppies. The puppies were left in the hutch with the mother until the puppies were over running the place. My yard smelled like a barnyard and I couldn’t walk out the back door without the dogs barking and carrying on as if I were invading their space. So you can imagine my joy when the puppies went to new homes and she sent two of the dogs to live with her father. I still felt sorry for the one in the hutch but at least there was less stink and noise. Next my animal loving neighbor decided she wanted a rabbit. She put it into a hutch much like the one the beagle is in but at least it wasn’t as close to the property line. The problems started again when she decided to breed the rabbit. It had 5 darling little bunnies and I prayed that she would find good homes for them but this neighbor loves animals so she couldn’t bear to part with them. I was imagining a back yard full of rabbit hutches but that would have been too easy. Instead she decided to turn the bunnies loose in her yard and just let them run around and sleep under her shed. Now you may be thinking, “Well it is her yard and her rabbits so let her do whatever she wants.” but there is just one problem. Our yards are not divided by a fence or even a shrub. The only division is the invisible property line and for some reason the rabbits don’t seem to be aware of it or else they just ignore it. Also when she decided to let the rabbits run free I don’t think she considered why there are sayings about being as fertile as a rabbit. First one of the bunnies had bunnies and then another bunny had bunnies and well you can see my problem. I think I mentioned earlier that I love to garden, well spring is almost here and I have a yard full of rabbits of all ages and sizes and all of them are hungry. My daughter suggested I contact animal control but sadly there is no animal control in our town. Now don’t get me wrong I really do like my neighbor. We get along well and I don’t want to start a neighborhood war just because we love animals in different ways but I will have to figure out a way to let her love her bunnies freely without them devouring my gardens. So if you know anyone that wants an Easter bunny for their children, I know where you can find one...or five.

Dreaming of Spring

I woke up this morning to the sound of my grandson begging his Papa to get up so he could help him with a new computer game. It must be the weekend. This is how our weekend usually begins. As I slowly opened my eyes I realized that something was different. The sun was shinning in through the bedroom window. I had to check to be sure I wasn't dreaming. It has been such a long gloomy winter and now here I was waking up to sunshine. I hurried out of bed, went to the window and opened the shades just to be sure. A smile swept across my face as I stared at the almost blue sky. Every year I anxiously await spring. In Wyoming it was because it seemed that winters drug on for 9 months but winter in Indiana is pretty short (about 3months by my estimation) but for those three months it seems the sun never wants to shine. I think it takes a holiday in Florida and doesn't return until the forsythias bloom. But today the sun was shining. I ran downstairs just to be sure and was greeted by a series of rainbows painted on my floor by the prisms hanging in the windows. It was true here was my proof. It was going to be a rainbow day. I stepped out the door and realized that not only didn't I need my gloves, I didn't even need a jacket. Yes, today was surely the promise of things to come. It is only early March and I know that spring doesn't really arrive in March here in southern Indiana but that's okay because when I looked over into the neighbors yard a thousand lilac crocuses were dancing in the breeze and even though they may get their little heads frozen off tonight, today they were like me, celebrating the sun. Singing and dancing in praise of spring.

Wyoming Winters

Winters in Indiana are very different from winters in Wyoming. Wyoming winters are very long, cold, and windy while Indiana’s are only about 3months long at the most, they have very little snow and the temperatures seldom dip down to single digits or zero. So everyone would think that a person would prefer to winter in Indiana but I find that for me the opposite is true. It isn’t that I love to be cold, I don’t, that I love deep snow, most days that isn’t true either and the winter winds of Wyoming can cut straight through to your bones. So why do I prefer the Wyoming winters? Because of the sun! I have seen the temperatures in Wyoming dip to 20-30 below zero and the sun was still shinning. The snow can be three foot deep on the level and the sun will make it look like three foot piles of diamonds. The sky is blue and the sun shines and somehow you forget that you are freezing and you just look at the magic of the picture that nature has painted for you. And it is even better if you don’t have to go out to work that day. I have friends that tease me about my comments about the blue skies of Wyoming and they swear the sky is just as blue in Indiana but unless you have spent a winter in Wyoming you really can’t compare the beauty of it to other places. Indiana has many great seasons. Its spring and fall are breath taking. The forsythias and crocuses welcome the season long before Wyoming can even consider spring and they are followed by the unmatchable show put on by the dogwoods and redbuds. As much as I love the spring in Indiana, I have never been able to decide whether I like the spring better or the fall. Because in the fall the trees and bushes put on an unbelievable show of color and texture that makes you want to just sit outside and admire the beautiful of God’s creation. And the great thing is many of the bugs have died or left so you are able to. So I am not trying to insult the great state of Indiana by any means. I have lived here for over twenty years and in many ways this place is my home but in the winter I long for my Wyoming home and the blue skies and sunshine that paints an unforgettable picture even though it is set against a backdrop so frigid that you think will die from the cold. Then again in summer I long for Wyoming not because of its beauty because much of the state is dry by summer and more brown than green but I have never been a fan of humidity and Indiana summers has lots of it while Wyoming has none. You would think that as a gardener I would want to stay in the long hot summers of Indiana but my asthma makes breathing much more desirable than gardening when the humidity rises and contrary to what many believe you can grow a pretty great garden in Indiana in the spring and early summer, one in Wyoming in mid summer and then another in Indiana in the late summer. So it really could work for me. Un fortunately, I’m not a rich or retired person so I will live my year in one place except for the occasional trip to visit another so Indiana will be my home of choice, after all anyone that knows me knows that I would never consider leaving my grandchildren to travel half away across the continent from them. So during the winter months I will close my eyes and dream of the Wyoming winters while sitting under a full spectrum lamp to keep the winter blues away.

Learning to dream again

I was reading a little book yesterday that I found at a used book store. It is titled, Living Out Loud by Keri Smith. It is a book about how to “fuel a creative life” It talked about living the life you always wanted by thinking about what you played as a child to discover what brings you true joy and passion and then reconnect to that energy. It was filled with games and activities to help get you in touch with your creative side.

I thought about that and I wondered when it is that we decide to quit playing. Does our life get too busy or do we just decide it is a waste of time or too juvenile to be important. I’m sure some people would say I never quit playing. I still love to color, paint and draw with chalk on the sidewalk. I sing and dance and blow bubbles on my front porch and hang prisms in my windows that face south so they will paint rainbows on the walls. But somewhere along the way I stopped dreaming. I became “realistic” in my thinking. I started listening to the people that told me that life is serious and we need to be responsible and dependable so there isn’t time for foolishness and unrealistic hopes.

I first realized this when I read an article about writing a bucket list and again when I read The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch. I suddenly realized that I couldn’t think of my dreams or what I was passionate about. Dreaming just seemed empty and unfamiliar to me and as I wrote things down on my bucket list I felt that I was simply making them up to have something to write. I mean there are things that I like to do or I might even go so far as to say I love them; singing, gardening, cooking, dancing and playing with my grandsons. But to come up with what I wanted to do before I died I felt at a loss. I heard once the St. Francis of Assisi was asked while he was playing ball, “What would you do if you knew you were going to die this week?” And he responded, “I would keep on playing ball.” When the story was told to me it was to emphasize the need to be prepared to meet your maker but if someone asked me that today I would have to say I would keep doing what I’m doing because I can’t think of anything else to do. Oh, I might tell them I would quit my job and spend more time with my family and more time in my garden but I don’t feel a great need to accomplish things that I’ve neglected. Maybe that is okay. Maybe it says that I am happy with my life, content with the place I’m in. So for today at least, I will keep on doing what I’m doing and I will try to be more aware of how blessed I am to have a life that makes me happy, a family that truly loves me and a job that brings me fulfillment. But I’m still going to do the games and activities to try Living Out Loud.

rainbows and bubbles

Ever since I first saw the movie Pollyanna I've wanted to take the prisms off of a chandelier and hang them in a window to paint rainbows on the wall. So finally at the age of 50 I asked my husband to put cup hooks in the south facing windows of my house and I hung inexpensive prisms or all different shapes and sizes off the hooks. I started the project with my oldest grandson when he was 4 and we would count to see how many rainbows we could paint on the walls of the living room and dining room at one time. I loved to watch the rainbows dance across the wall when I ran my hand down the row of prisms. And when I’d wake up and see the sun shining I’d tell my grandson, “It is going to be a rainbow day.” My mother-in-law also loved the rainbow game and although she only had a few prisms in her living window my daughters still remember fondly the rainbows they painted on her wall. I’m not sure what the infatuation is, maybe it is the dreams of the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow or maybe it is merely the blending of the beautiful colors but whatever it is I will continue to paint the rainbows on my wall with as many prisms as I can find.

I have a similar fascination with bubbles. I keep a bucket on my front porch filled with a variety of bubble blowers and bubble soap. My grandson and I often spend our summer afternoons out on the porch blowing bubbles or taking turns blowing bubbles while the other one pops them using a water gun. It is a wonderful way to spend a lazy afternoon and it is great stress relief. How can you not smile as you watch bubbles float gently up and up until they are out of sight.

My grandson is nine now and he has less time for bubbles and rainbows because he is busy with sports and computer games. But every now and then he will come into the house and say, “Hey Grandma, it is a rainbow day.” Or he will suggest why don’t we go outside and blow some bubbles for Henry, his younger brother. And then I know he hasn't forgotten the games or the hours of fun.

I know that the day will come, all too soon I fear, when all my grandsons will think they are too old for bubble blowing and rainbow making and then I will have to play my rainbow, bubble games alone but for now I will enjoy their shining smiles, their dancing eyes and their infectious laughter. I’ll remind them of the magic that can be found in simple items like a cheap prism or some soap bubbles.

What shall I write?

Today as I considered what to write and it occurred to me that we all have millions of thoughts in a day's time but most just come and go unnoticed. We teach our children to listen to their teachers, to listen to their elders and to listen to us but we seldom talk to them about listening to their inner voice. Wouldn't be nice if we taught children to pay attention to their thoughts and dreams. To get to know their likes and dislikes so that when they start to create their life, they will have a better idea of what they truly want for themselves. I know that when I finished High School I had no idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I spent my first three years of college listening to what others thought I shouldn't do and it never occurred to me to tell them that it wasn't their decision to make. I'm not saying that we should stop guiding our children in their choices, we have more life knowledge and experience than they do but I am saying that we need to emphasize the importance of getting to know yourself and trusting in your abilities and your creative energy because you are the one that will spend the rest of your life, in your life.