Today is "Baby Girl's" birthday. She will always be my baby girl, but the nickname was given to her by an aunt. It now always reminds me of the book, "Welcome to the World, Baby Girl", but she appeared before the book and somehow I think I said those very words when I knew I had a daughter after two sons.
A mother loves her children. Doesn't matter what the sex, she only asks that they be healthy, and from there it doesn't really matter. With two boys already I was pretty sure I carried another near my heart. I remember little being different with this pregnancy, though subtle things happened towards the end that I just put to being the way this miracle happened and was scripted to end. She was 3 days over the due date, the closest any of mine had been to getting here near when they were supposed to. The last visit to the doctor, a day before the due date, he told me the baby was dropping, which is usually a good sign. I had gone to bed the night before uncomfortable, but then when you're nine months pregnant, you're in perpetual "uncomfortable". I woke up somewhere after midnight noticing that I had "leaked" a bit and that every time I rolled over, more seemed to leak out. I wasn't sure it was my amniotic fluid or water responsible as when I had Ryan it broke in the hospital in labor and came out in one large whoosh, and with my other son, the water was broken during the last stages of labor. I hadn't noticed any contractions but towards early morning contractions started, and I got up to start walking, as I had no intention of heading to the hospital before the contractions were strong and fairly close together. Korey had been 5 hours start to finish and only two of those hours were in the hospital, so I had motivation to stay home as long as possible.
I don't rememeber the weather that day as I did so well with Korey. It had been August and warm as I had walked outside when labor started with him. I have to believe it was probably a day much like today is dawning to be, partly sunny with clouds, the snow had disappeared but temperatures only in the 40's. I kept Kurt home from work, pretty sure this was it. The contractions seemed to be coming pretty regularly and the amniotic fluid continued to leak but there never was any great flow. After calling Mom to tell her my suspicions, my dear Dad came right over, sure this was it and took the boys home with him. This was about 10 in the morning and after that I just sat down and waited. In hindsight, probably not what I should have done as it slowed down the contractions and they became irregular. We went all afternoon and they never seemed to attain the strong contractions I remembered from the other two in the end. At 3:00 p.m. we called the hospital and they urged us to come in, in the advent my water really was breaking as I risked infection if I let it go too long. So, we headed for the hospital, a half hour away.
Upon examination at the hospital, it actually was amniotic fluid and I was set up in a room and a bed. Unfortunately, the birthing room which was a new addition to the labor wing, and which meant I wouldn't have to be transferred to delivery wasn't available. I had it for Korey and it was wonderful to stay in the same room, labor, and deliver and recover. Now, from what I understand it is the norm, but back then, just like knowing the sex of the baby, for most of us its time had just not arrived. I sat in a rocking chair unwilling to be strapped and monitored in bed until it became completely necessary. By the early evening, the doctor on call decided it was necessary to "augment" the labor which meant taking an IV drug to essentially induce heavy labor. I had always managed to avoid being induced but no such luck this time. Luckily, I was far enough along that it didn't take but a few hours to get to the point of transition and heading to the delivery room. In their haste to get everything set up in the delivery room, the overhead mirror that had allowed me, literally, to see Ryan being born was not adjusted. By that time I didn't much care as getting this baby into the world was all that was on my mind.
At 9:31 p.m., Ann-Marie was born. When the doctor told me it was a girl, I didn't believe him as I had just talked myself into a boy and thought the lovely name we had picked out, named for both of her grandma's would never be used. She was healthy and already then had a pretty good set of lungs on her. When laid on my stomach to cut the cord, she immediately wet on me. That's my Baby Girl.
We waited in recovery until they brought her to us before we called both sets of grandparents. She was the first granddaughter for my family and as I called Mom and Dad, she was crying loudly and I told Mom laughing, "Here is the girl, you wanted". That year my daughter happened to be born on Good Friday, the saddest day in the World's history, but also the day of hope for what had been promised, had come and been fulfilled.
Welcome to the World, Baby Girl. For twenty eight years, you have filled my life with joy and all the emotions in between and around. You have made me a keeper of the flame of life, and you are truly God's greatest gift to me. Happy Birthday....
Friday, April 1, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Let me Tell you about my dogs
Its been one of those days. One of those days when worries have piled up in the back of my mind and been my companion for a few weeks now. They never quite go away, but I have pushed them to the back somewhere so at least now I can function and do what needs doing.
Another blizzard for us here, the third in 6 weeks time, and I don't just qualify these as snow storms as we have had those. These were bona fide Nor'easters, with bone chilling winds right out of the Northeast, rolling over the Saginaw Bay and right at us. It started out as slushy snow yesterday and piled up quickly. Somewhere over night it turned to freezing rain which landed on the trees, and by mid morning the branches hung low and threatened us with breaking and power outtages. Snow showers all day and it was hard to concentrate. A trip out to the satellite dish to dump hot water on ice covered receivers, so at least my televisions worked. I painted in the bathroom because it kept me busy and I have a deadline. As I painted I became disheartened that I would not finish all I undertook before the baby shower on Sunday. Its a feeling I've had many times lately, as if I'm spinning my wheels and no one really cares. But I painted on and breathed a sigh when that first coat was on. I turned my eyes to my dog hair infested living room. I vacuumed and the carpet again was without its black coating of fur. Then I decided to do a long overdue load of towels. Upstairs and I noticed a pair of shoes I had worn the other day looked like someone had dropped water on the toe. Upon closer inspection I found my Gauge had urinated on the toe of my shoe and all around the chair they sat next to. As I went to grab a towel to soak it up before I got the mini steam cleaner I now use regularly, I noticed more "spots" around the base of the gun cabinet. A huge sigh of enormous self pity, as I went to grab the hand held cleaner and start cleaning the mess as best I could and wondering what in the world I was going to do about a dog who seemed to have a sudden penchant for marking all kinds of spots. And feeling even worse as I was at a loss to figure out how to stop it. After unloading the cleaners container of cleaning fluid and sunctioning it up I found more spots next to the bed. They were dried so I had no idea when he had gone on his little pee spree. I realized how little time I had spent in the bedroom, besides sleeping as it was all I could do not to eat and sleep in the bathroom remodel. Right about then it was all I could do not to sit in the middle of the floor and bawl like an abandoned child.
I had put the dogs outside in the back yard while I cleaned up the mess. When I went to call them in, only Gauge was in the back yard. Tell tale tracks showed a hole dug under the fence and no Tally. Calling brought no dog and no dog in sight to my south. I thanked the thankless weather that at least kept any vehicles from being on the road, but knew I had to get boots and outdoor gear on quickly and find her as she was likely to be anywhere. I took Gauge with me on a lead hoping she would see him and come running. I didn't have to go far....At the end of the driveway I looked down the road and she was about a quarter mile down in the middle of the road. For once she came running when she saw me and Gauge standing there. I got her and Gauge in the house and then set down on the bench and cried for the crummy day and life I was having. I sobbed as I hadn't for awhile and just wanted someone to talk to and bawl on their shoulder. But Annie would panic if I called her and sounded like that. One friend is going through a cancer crisis of her own and another just buried her mother. In the midst of a good wail, I suddenly realized how silly it seemed. No, I wasn't going down the rabbit hole of depression and after the wail and through the tears I actually smiled. There are far worse things in this world and all I was having was a bad day.
I'm still not sure what to do about Gauge and his urinating habits all of a sudden or how to keep my escape artist, Tally in the yard but both are lying next to me on the sofa, sleeping so the good Lord willing I will survive another Michigan storm and live to cry again and hopefully, another good laugh.....
Another blizzard for us here, the third in 6 weeks time, and I don't just qualify these as snow storms as we have had those. These were bona fide Nor'easters, with bone chilling winds right out of the Northeast, rolling over the Saginaw Bay and right at us. It started out as slushy snow yesterday and piled up quickly. Somewhere over night it turned to freezing rain which landed on the trees, and by mid morning the branches hung low and threatened us with breaking and power outtages. Snow showers all day and it was hard to concentrate. A trip out to the satellite dish to dump hot water on ice covered receivers, so at least my televisions worked. I painted in the bathroom because it kept me busy and I have a deadline. As I painted I became disheartened that I would not finish all I undertook before the baby shower on Sunday. Its a feeling I've had many times lately, as if I'm spinning my wheels and no one really cares. But I painted on and breathed a sigh when that first coat was on. I turned my eyes to my dog hair infested living room. I vacuumed and the carpet again was without its black coating of fur. Then I decided to do a long overdue load of towels. Upstairs and I noticed a pair of shoes I had worn the other day looked like someone had dropped water on the toe. Upon closer inspection I found my Gauge had urinated on the toe of my shoe and all around the chair they sat next to. As I went to grab a towel to soak it up before I got the mini steam cleaner I now use regularly, I noticed more "spots" around the base of the gun cabinet. A huge sigh of enormous self pity, as I went to grab the hand held cleaner and start cleaning the mess as best I could and wondering what in the world I was going to do about a dog who seemed to have a sudden penchant for marking all kinds of spots. And feeling even worse as I was at a loss to figure out how to stop it. After unloading the cleaners container of cleaning fluid and sunctioning it up I found more spots next to the bed. They were dried so I had no idea when he had gone on his little pee spree. I realized how little time I had spent in the bedroom, besides sleeping as it was all I could do not to eat and sleep in the bathroom remodel. Right about then it was all I could do not to sit in the middle of the floor and bawl like an abandoned child.
I had put the dogs outside in the back yard while I cleaned up the mess. When I went to call them in, only Gauge was in the back yard. Tell tale tracks showed a hole dug under the fence and no Tally. Calling brought no dog and no dog in sight to my south. I thanked the thankless weather that at least kept any vehicles from being on the road, but knew I had to get boots and outdoor gear on quickly and find her as she was likely to be anywhere. I took Gauge with me on a lead hoping she would see him and come running. I didn't have to go far....At the end of the driveway I looked down the road and she was about a quarter mile down in the middle of the road. For once she came running when she saw me and Gauge standing there. I got her and Gauge in the house and then set down on the bench and cried for the crummy day and life I was having. I sobbed as I hadn't for awhile and just wanted someone to talk to and bawl on their shoulder. But Annie would panic if I called her and sounded like that. One friend is going through a cancer crisis of her own and another just buried her mother. In the midst of a good wail, I suddenly realized how silly it seemed. No, I wasn't going down the rabbit hole of depression and after the wail and through the tears I actually smiled. There are far worse things in this world and all I was having was a bad day.
I'm still not sure what to do about Gauge and his urinating habits all of a sudden or how to keep my escape artist, Tally in the yard but both are lying next to me on the sofa, sleeping so the good Lord willing I will survive another Michigan storm and live to cry again and hopefully, another good laugh.....
Lessons Learned
Another snowstorm howls outside my window. My house is fairly shaking in the strong winds. However, the predicted 7 inches plus of snow seems to have not quite materialized, and even though it is dark, and schools are closed, I can't see mounds of drifting snow that with this wind, I know are out there. I have been up since 5, concerned about the weather is doing and listening to the local news, it is a mixed bag. Rain, ice, snow and blowing, depending on where you are in this state, as my life seems to be right now a mixed bag.
I have a bathroom still torn up, but on the finish line to being finished, at least I hope so. Two steps forward, as little things erupt just when you think you can make a major swing at getting the steps done to finish this. Then a step or two back as was the case last night when I peeled some painter's tape only to have it take off the primer coat I had put down and the drywall spackle I had filled in with underneath. So, re-spackle and let dry, sand and hope its done before I want to paint the walls this afternoon. Two steps forward and a step back.
I have a dentist appointment today for an abscessed tooth, I found 10 days ago. No pain with it when I found it, but the telltale bump was there on a tooth that has had a root canal for over 10 years now. I called the dentist immediately knowing full well he isn't in on Fridays and finding out from the hygenist that he would be out for the following week also, on vacation. She prescribed an antibiotic to get me through to today, and I dutifully filled the prescription and took the penicillin until it ran out, yesterday. While the abscess never did give me pain the lump was still there and after doing some reading, I am not very optimistic that more medication will rid me of it. The timing of this latest storm has not improved my mood. Right now I think I can make it out to the dentist's office, but daylight will have to let me know more.
Two steps forward and one back. Of late it has seemed three or four steps back and only one forward. Winter has seemed longer than most years. Is it my age, or the fact that we have had winter this year basically from December through now, officially spring, but hardly springlike here. Its not unusual Michigan weather as late March storms often bring snow and more of the stuff we have just seemed to get rid of. We have a day of utter joy with sunshine, moderate temps and we rejoice, hoping that spring has finally had its way with winter, but we know better. We see a robin and know hope and find the Canada geese have returned to the pond in the back. We have tulips sprouting gently in the softened ground, just peeking their purple-green leaves above the ground, but we still know better.
We are faced to look at things we didn't think we would face, and while we knew better, we chose not to stare back, as that was not our perception of what our lives would be. We let depression take us over as ice and snow envelope us just like our moods. We know spring is coming, the calendar shows it and with it hope and a renewal, but right now its just not here and we endure longer.
I have been embracing Lent this year, as too often we pass over this season because it is uncomfortable for us in waiting for the joyous time of Easter. This year I have looked more deeply at the unfathomable suffering of Jesus that Lent is to prepare us for, and I cannot begin to understand the agony of what he suffered for us. But at times when my personal problems seem to overwhelm me, it is a door to open that many suffer much, much more and in times of eternal winter we become insulated in our misery.
It is hard to crawl out of those holes. To think what your life had always been and was inevitably headed for, won't be quite that, and may be something unrecognizable. Its hard to see the joy of those perfect moments, because they are so fleeting and depression is so omnipresent, but it is what must be done. We are asked to live no different.
Two steps forward and maybe more back. I believed I had a certain place in the world, and in that place I could control what happened. I knew better, but until something snowballs and threatens to overwhelm us do we realize we ultimately have no control but do have the capacity to view our situations in ways that can add depth and meaning to our lives or succumb to the paralyzing fear that our lives will never be what we once thought they would be.
Two steps forward and maybe none back today. Maybe I can drive carefully and make it to the dentist and maybe there will be something that gives me back optimism after this latest snowstorm has knocked me down. I now know I can never judge even in my heart, others, and feel even unconsciously superior. I have learned some kind of empathy and that right now I just must endure until winter's true end here. That's what I have learned for today, and that is the "lesson learned"....
I have a bathroom still torn up, but on the finish line to being finished, at least I hope so. Two steps forward, as little things erupt just when you think you can make a major swing at getting the steps done to finish this. Then a step or two back as was the case last night when I peeled some painter's tape only to have it take off the primer coat I had put down and the drywall spackle I had filled in with underneath. So, re-spackle and let dry, sand and hope its done before I want to paint the walls this afternoon. Two steps forward and a step back.
I have a dentist appointment today for an abscessed tooth, I found 10 days ago. No pain with it when I found it, but the telltale bump was there on a tooth that has had a root canal for over 10 years now. I called the dentist immediately knowing full well he isn't in on Fridays and finding out from the hygenist that he would be out for the following week also, on vacation. She prescribed an antibiotic to get me through to today, and I dutifully filled the prescription and took the penicillin until it ran out, yesterday. While the abscess never did give me pain the lump was still there and after doing some reading, I am not very optimistic that more medication will rid me of it. The timing of this latest storm has not improved my mood. Right now I think I can make it out to the dentist's office, but daylight will have to let me know more.
Two steps forward and one back. Of late it has seemed three or four steps back and only one forward. Winter has seemed longer than most years. Is it my age, or the fact that we have had winter this year basically from December through now, officially spring, but hardly springlike here. Its not unusual Michigan weather as late March storms often bring snow and more of the stuff we have just seemed to get rid of. We have a day of utter joy with sunshine, moderate temps and we rejoice, hoping that spring has finally had its way with winter, but we know better. We see a robin and know hope and find the Canada geese have returned to the pond in the back. We have tulips sprouting gently in the softened ground, just peeking their purple-green leaves above the ground, but we still know better.
We are faced to look at things we didn't think we would face, and while we knew better, we chose not to stare back, as that was not our perception of what our lives would be. We let depression take us over as ice and snow envelope us just like our moods. We know spring is coming, the calendar shows it and with it hope and a renewal, but right now its just not here and we endure longer.
I have been embracing Lent this year, as too often we pass over this season because it is uncomfortable for us in waiting for the joyous time of Easter. This year I have looked more deeply at the unfathomable suffering of Jesus that Lent is to prepare us for, and I cannot begin to understand the agony of what he suffered for us. But at times when my personal problems seem to overwhelm me, it is a door to open that many suffer much, much more and in times of eternal winter we become insulated in our misery.
It is hard to crawl out of those holes. To think what your life had always been and was inevitably headed for, won't be quite that, and may be something unrecognizable. Its hard to see the joy of those perfect moments, because they are so fleeting and depression is so omnipresent, but it is what must be done. We are asked to live no different.
Two steps forward and maybe more back. I believed I had a certain place in the world, and in that place I could control what happened. I knew better, but until something snowballs and threatens to overwhelm us do we realize we ultimately have no control but do have the capacity to view our situations in ways that can add depth and meaning to our lives or succumb to the paralyzing fear that our lives will never be what we once thought they would be.
Two steps forward and maybe none back today. Maybe I can drive carefully and make it to the dentist and maybe there will be something that gives me back optimism after this latest snowstorm has knocked me down. I now know I can never judge even in my heart, others, and feel even unconsciously superior. I have learned some kind of empathy and that right now I just must endure until winter's true end here. That's what I have learned for today, and that is the "lesson learned"....
Monday, March 14, 2011
Wallpapering and other tricks I have mastered
I went on a home improvement binge this last month. Things I had put off needed to be done. One was the dining room wallpaper. While still in good shape, it didn't really match the newly painted kitchen. Pulling it off would be easy, it was scraping off what was underneath, scrubbing, re scrubbing and then sanding was what would be hard, and not a job I looked forward to in any way, shape or form. For some reason, known only to me anymore, and that danged if I can remember why, when we did the almost complete remodel of the house over 20 years ago now, I wallpapered nearly every new room. I have since then slowly been removing that wallpaper every time a room is in serious need of a redo, or at least a refreshing. And every time I have pulled down wallpaper, I have cursed and then sworn, NEVER AGAIN....
Just like painting, wallpapering is all in the prep work, and if you don't get the wallpaper gook or residue off, your paint job will have spots of what I like to call cottage cheese, so do it right, and that's what takes days on end of washing, sanding, spackling, and re sanding and having drywall spackle dust up your nose, in your hair and a fine coat of it on whatever is within a hundred miles, I swear, even if you have tried to close off the room.
Therefore when I pulled this most reacent wallpaper down, I decided to re wallpaper this particular room. There were a couple of reasons and the main one is that this room is open on two ends to two other rooms both of which were painted different colors and a third room could be seen from it and it was a different color. I am physically incapable of painting rooms the same color. Once I have done them, they are done. I thought a wallpaper while more expensive than a can of paint, would tie the rooms together using similar colors.
In the old days when I was a wallpaper expert, you would go to a home decorating store and bring home four or five wallpaper books. You spent a few days going through them and deciding on the one you wanted. You measured your walls and measured generously, adding in windows and doors even though those would not be wallpapered. Most papers had a repeat pattern of some kind so you had to allow for that to match each long piece you hung at the top of the wall. There was a code on the back of each paper you picked and I copied it down. The wallpaper books were returned to the decorating store and then I would call my favorite wholesale wallpaper distributor, which were advertized in every home magazine I subscribed to. They offered 35 to 40% off what the stores were selling it for which was never peanuts. I always ordered my wallpaper that way and always had at least a single roll of paper left.
Well welcome, to the 21 century and the knowledge that I had not wallpapered in 20 years, so of course I went to the home decorating store brought home several books and spent the night looking at papers. Found one I liked but the paper companies and the home decorating stores have gotten trickier by leaving the paper codes off many of the papers. I had gone online and of course, there were several discount wallpaper sites. I had to do some "going through the back door" to find the code for the paper I wanted, mainly going to the site of the main distributor of the my paper and getting the code from that. I chose an online site that gave the best discount for the paper I wanted and free shipping. It was listed as a secure site and had a consumer ratings check.
Now for those of you who have never ordered wallpaper, let alone put it up, the price quoted is for a single roll of wallpaper, measured in how many square feet are on that roll. But it is sold only in double rolls. You might as well double the price right off the bat when figuring. My measurements showed I needed just over 4 double rolls. Another single roll would have been plenty, but another double roll is what I would have to buy. I had chosen a stripe paper, which meant no waste in matching, and in the past I had always been over generous in my measurements so I decided to go with just the four double rolls. While shipping was free, its the "handling" charges with so many online sites that gets you. A $15 handling fee but I saved over 40% on the paper prices so I was pleased that the room wallpapering job would be under $150.
The printout for the order said that my paper would be delivered in 7 to 10 business days. That was fine as I was prepping the walls, though that just meant I was sanding down some of the very high spots and spackling over nail holes and such. Halfway through the second week and still no wallpaper put up a red flag. Added to that my VISA account had been compromised. I ordered the paper on a second bank card I seldom use, and I was alerted that an online purchase had been tried with my account number from another state. The bank alerted me that they had denied the purchase until verification from me. I had made no such purchse and the only place that I had used that card was in ordering the wallpaper. My credit card was issued a new number and card and the bank was very oblinging about handling it quickly. Note to myself, use my paypal account when ordering from sites like that again if ever.
After the bank card snafu I contacted the customer helpline and found that my wallpaper had not been shipped. It went out that day and I received it, tracking it via UPS, 3 days later. Lesson learned...
Now began the fun stuff of wallpapering. I figured to knock it off in one day. I thought, surely, its like riding a bike and I will remember it immediately. Kurt and I did a plumb line the night before and with that I was ready to start. Well, the next morning kind of got away from me, as most mornings do, and it was afternoon before I embarked on filling the dip tray, getting towels and rags for wiping up, and assembling my needed supplies, scissors, an exacto knife, smoothing bush, seam sealer, and rulers.
The idea is to find the length of one long wall, add an inch extra for walls that aren't straight, and none of them are, and cut several sheets all at once. I had a cutting board set up in the living room and found that my quilt cutting matt and an old blade in my rotary cutter was very slick for measuring each piece quickly and cutting it with a sharp edge.
That done it was dip the first piece, rolled paper side in, to the dipping tray and pulling it out again using the rod as a guide. Easy enough. My first hung piece took me probably 10 minutes of sliding , pulling off in parts, smoothing, sliding again, which required more pulling back and then having to smooth out several large bubbles. You want to get all of the bubbles out and good wallpaper won't retain bubbles if they are smoothed out. That means that wallpaper paste oozes out the sides, but them's the breaks. Once it is smoothed out to your satisfaction, the rotary seam sealer seals the seams edges and that is a must. High five myself I had the first piece on. The second piece took even longer because now I had to align it next to the piece already up. You don't want overlap, but it must butt up right next to the first piece or when it dries you will have a noticeable gap, as wet paper stretches a bit and when it dries it shrinks. I became aware early on that my walls really weren't very "plumb" as the second pieces' cut off top and bottom went at an angle. It also took longer as you have to make sure the seams get all the oozing paste off. After 3 long sheets and a good hour, I congratulated myself that I was getting the hang of this once again.
By the time Kurt got home that evening, I had one solid wall hung and was heading over to a portion of the only other long wall I had. By the time 9:00 p.m. rolled around that evening , I was a pooped wallpaper hanger and had about a third of the room done, maybe a bit more. The room looked awful that night as bubbles showed up and many of the seams didn't looked sealed. I went to bed hoping it would look better in the morning and it did.
The next day I determined to get after it earlier. And I did. It was mid morning when I went back at it. Now came cutting pieces to fit around and under windows and under the shelf that ran near the ceiling on two walls. I worked at my pace which was nice, and managed to get much of it done before dinner that evening.
After dinner I finished up the rest of the walls under the shelving, but towards the end of the night a realization swept over me that I would not have enough paper to finish the area above the shelves even using every partial piece I had left and fitting it together. I knew that the .2 in the 4.2 double rolls I had figured would come back and bite me. There was no sense crying over it, I knew I had to order more paper. So on a Friday morning I got back on online and ordered it. Of course, I had to repay a handling charge and the papers price wasn't quite as reduced as it had been, but "them's" the decorating breaks. This time I checked right away to be sure the paper was shipped, and it wasn't until the following Monday, but I had it in my possession on Wednesday. In one respect it was nice, as I could cut from the new roll and not have to worry about "piecing" leftover hunks that weren't the width of the actual paper and it not matching exactly. It was above a shelf where collectibles normally set so if I was going to piece anywhere that would be it, but this made it go much faster and look much better finished. I ended up with about a single roll left of paper, just what I had originally figured.
I let the paper all dry overnight and the next day I washed off the seams and applied seam glue to wherever the paper had not sealed on the edges, which is a common thing with wallpaper so you might as well have seam glue on hand. The day after that I started putting things back in the room. I liked the wallpaper and liked the effect, and I also think I hope I don't have to pull this down for another 20 years...
And the next room to be de-wallpapered won't be receiving new. The old bathroom is receiving a re vamp of sorts and I think I'll try "painting" stripes on it. Who knows maybe I'll find a new vocation..
Just like painting, wallpapering is all in the prep work, and if you don't get the wallpaper gook or residue off, your paint job will have spots of what I like to call cottage cheese, so do it right, and that's what takes days on end of washing, sanding, spackling, and re sanding and having drywall spackle dust up your nose, in your hair and a fine coat of it on whatever is within a hundred miles, I swear, even if you have tried to close off the room.
Therefore when I pulled this most reacent wallpaper down, I decided to re wallpaper this particular room. There were a couple of reasons and the main one is that this room is open on two ends to two other rooms both of which were painted different colors and a third room could be seen from it and it was a different color. I am physically incapable of painting rooms the same color. Once I have done them, they are done. I thought a wallpaper while more expensive than a can of paint, would tie the rooms together using similar colors.
In the old days when I was a wallpaper expert, you would go to a home decorating store and bring home four or five wallpaper books. You spent a few days going through them and deciding on the one you wanted. You measured your walls and measured generously, adding in windows and doors even though those would not be wallpapered. Most papers had a repeat pattern of some kind so you had to allow for that to match each long piece you hung at the top of the wall. There was a code on the back of each paper you picked and I copied it down. The wallpaper books were returned to the decorating store and then I would call my favorite wholesale wallpaper distributor, which were advertized in every home magazine I subscribed to. They offered 35 to 40% off what the stores were selling it for which was never peanuts. I always ordered my wallpaper that way and always had at least a single roll of paper left.
Well welcome, to the 21 century and the knowledge that I had not wallpapered in 20 years, so of course I went to the home decorating store brought home several books and spent the night looking at papers. Found one I liked but the paper companies and the home decorating stores have gotten trickier by leaving the paper codes off many of the papers. I had gone online and of course, there were several discount wallpaper sites. I had to do some "going through the back door" to find the code for the paper I wanted, mainly going to the site of the main distributor of the my paper and getting the code from that. I chose an online site that gave the best discount for the paper I wanted and free shipping. It was listed as a secure site and had a consumer ratings check.
Now for those of you who have never ordered wallpaper, let alone put it up, the price quoted is for a single roll of wallpaper, measured in how many square feet are on that roll. But it is sold only in double rolls. You might as well double the price right off the bat when figuring. My measurements showed I needed just over 4 double rolls. Another single roll would have been plenty, but another double roll is what I would have to buy. I had chosen a stripe paper, which meant no waste in matching, and in the past I had always been over generous in my measurements so I decided to go with just the four double rolls. While shipping was free, its the "handling" charges with so many online sites that gets you. A $15 handling fee but I saved over 40% on the paper prices so I was pleased that the room wallpapering job would be under $150.
The printout for the order said that my paper would be delivered in 7 to 10 business days. That was fine as I was prepping the walls, though that just meant I was sanding down some of the very high spots and spackling over nail holes and such. Halfway through the second week and still no wallpaper put up a red flag. Added to that my VISA account had been compromised. I ordered the paper on a second bank card I seldom use, and I was alerted that an online purchase had been tried with my account number from another state. The bank alerted me that they had denied the purchase until verification from me. I had made no such purchse and the only place that I had used that card was in ordering the wallpaper. My credit card was issued a new number and card and the bank was very oblinging about handling it quickly. Note to myself, use my paypal account when ordering from sites like that again if ever.
After the bank card snafu I contacted the customer helpline and found that my wallpaper had not been shipped. It went out that day and I received it, tracking it via UPS, 3 days later. Lesson learned...
Now began the fun stuff of wallpapering. I figured to knock it off in one day. I thought, surely, its like riding a bike and I will remember it immediately. Kurt and I did a plumb line the night before and with that I was ready to start. Well, the next morning kind of got away from me, as most mornings do, and it was afternoon before I embarked on filling the dip tray, getting towels and rags for wiping up, and assembling my needed supplies, scissors, an exacto knife, smoothing bush, seam sealer, and rulers.
The idea is to find the length of one long wall, add an inch extra for walls that aren't straight, and none of them are, and cut several sheets all at once. I had a cutting board set up in the living room and found that my quilt cutting matt and an old blade in my rotary cutter was very slick for measuring each piece quickly and cutting it with a sharp edge.
That done it was dip the first piece, rolled paper side in, to the dipping tray and pulling it out again using the rod as a guide. Easy enough. My first hung piece took me probably 10 minutes of sliding , pulling off in parts, smoothing, sliding again, which required more pulling back and then having to smooth out several large bubbles. You want to get all of the bubbles out and good wallpaper won't retain bubbles if they are smoothed out. That means that wallpaper paste oozes out the sides, but them's the breaks. Once it is smoothed out to your satisfaction, the rotary seam sealer seals the seams edges and that is a must. High five myself I had the first piece on. The second piece took even longer because now I had to align it next to the piece already up. You don't want overlap, but it must butt up right next to the first piece or when it dries you will have a noticeable gap, as wet paper stretches a bit and when it dries it shrinks. I became aware early on that my walls really weren't very "plumb" as the second pieces' cut off top and bottom went at an angle. It also took longer as you have to make sure the seams get all the oozing paste off. After 3 long sheets and a good hour, I congratulated myself that I was getting the hang of this once again.
By the time Kurt got home that evening, I had one solid wall hung and was heading over to a portion of the only other long wall I had. By the time 9:00 p.m. rolled around that evening , I was a pooped wallpaper hanger and had about a third of the room done, maybe a bit more. The room looked awful that night as bubbles showed up and many of the seams didn't looked sealed. I went to bed hoping it would look better in the morning and it did.
The next day I determined to get after it earlier. And I did. It was mid morning when I went back at it. Now came cutting pieces to fit around and under windows and under the shelf that ran near the ceiling on two walls. I worked at my pace which was nice, and managed to get much of it done before dinner that evening.
After dinner I finished up the rest of the walls under the shelving, but towards the end of the night a realization swept over me that I would not have enough paper to finish the area above the shelves even using every partial piece I had left and fitting it together. I knew that the .2 in the 4.2 double rolls I had figured would come back and bite me. There was no sense crying over it, I knew I had to order more paper. So on a Friday morning I got back on online and ordered it. Of course, I had to repay a handling charge and the papers price wasn't quite as reduced as it had been, but "them's" the decorating breaks. This time I checked right away to be sure the paper was shipped, and it wasn't until the following Monday, but I had it in my possession on Wednesday. In one respect it was nice, as I could cut from the new roll and not have to worry about "piecing" leftover hunks that weren't the width of the actual paper and it not matching exactly. It was above a shelf where collectibles normally set so if I was going to piece anywhere that would be it, but this made it go much faster and look much better finished. I ended up with about a single roll left of paper, just what I had originally figured.
I let the paper all dry overnight and the next day I washed off the seams and applied seam glue to wherever the paper had not sealed on the edges, which is a common thing with wallpaper so you might as well have seam glue on hand. The day after that I started putting things back in the room. I liked the wallpaper and liked the effect, and I also think I hope I don't have to pull this down for another 20 years...
And the next room to be de-wallpapered won't be receiving new. The old bathroom is receiving a re vamp of sorts and I think I'll try "painting" stripes on it. Who knows maybe I'll find a new vocation..
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
V-Day a week later and other thoughts
It is Valentine Day only 10 days later. I guess I always figured write what you are thinking as you are thinking it and then re read it and edit out the stupid stuff. Its been a busy February and that never quite happened and now I look back at V-Day as I recall it with the hazy notion, that I got through another one.
This morning is cold. My thermometer reads a bone chilling 0 degrees, but once again we are told we have braved and survived another period of below normal temps and out of whack winter weather after 4 days of weather last week that melted every thing in sight most of it over one very warm night. Another snow storm of the same variety on Sunday night, though the accumulations while approximate to the last storm, had only bare ground to blow across, so the digging out was easier, I think....
But back to V-Day. I have a love/hate relationship with Valentine Day. As a child in school it was one of the three big holidays celebrated in school. Halloween, Christmas and Valentines Day. School parties that we would wait for with baited breath. Heart shaped cookies and red hots along with soapy tasting heart shaped candies with romantic sayings on each one. But the biggest thing was the Valentines we exchnaged. It was a shopping trip we were always allowed to go on, and I would agonize for days on what direction I wanted to go with my Valentines. Granted I was somewhat limited as makers of Valentines weren't the saavy marketers they are today. There were basically 3 or 4 styles in my parents price range, some geared more towards little boys and the rest seducing little girls who put copious amounts of thought and desire into those little red hearts and sentiments. Once bought, we had to decide what was the best card in the bunch to give to our very best friends and perhaps the one boy we didn't find awful and who even at the tender ages of 7 and 8 we wanted to somehow impress. After those momentous decisions we would work our way down the ladder and go from lesser girl friends down through the boys to the few boys we could barely stand who got the least sentimental of a box of basically generic thoughts on love. The last valentines were always saved for the those who we just didn't even really think about and were just part of our class. To not give everyone a Valentine was never an option, and Valentine boxes were what we spent the week prior to V-Day working on and decorating. I don't know that there were ever crushed hopes and derailed dreams in those days of elementary children passing out innocent Valentines. We were all innocent then and only looked to see and analyze if our best friends had given us a Valentine of equal love and sharing, and sometimes if the boy we secretly liked had selected a Valentine that was more than just the neutral sentiment found in the rest of our cards. Sometimes we read much into that valentine and even more into a childish scrawl. But mostly after the party and the day were done, we put away the valentines, often shoved under our bed to occasionally be pulled out and looked at and analyzed once again. We'd dream silly, little girl dreams of that boy we liked, growing up and declaring his love for us and the white wedding dress that would follow, but that was as far as our dreams would go.
As we grew older the valentines became more elaborate, even as the party's became less. Jr. high school meant being cool and not giving away that secret which was the boy you liked from afar. The liking was more pronounced but the secrecy kept more carefully. One year I made all my Valentines after being enthralled with a girl the year before who had taken the time to hand make all of her Valentines. I labored for a week before hand making the valentines and deciding who would get what valentine. It was the peak of my Valentine creativity.
High school saw the end of the Valentines as I had known them in grade school. It wasn't cool to pass out valentines and even less cool to do so in front of other people, so the valentine became an obsolete anachronism even though we felt as strongly, if not more about our friends and those boys we liked. We just couldn't show it. We sometimes passed out silly cards among us girls, but the order of the day became the Sweetheart Dance put on my the school's FFA and for those who have no notion of what that is, it stood for Future Farmers of America, and they selected several girls to compete for Sweetheart of the dance to be accompanied onto the floor by an FFA member of their choice. Even then we thought it was kind of dorky, but it was one of our more formal dances, in that we got to dress up, the girls were given corsages if they had a date, and it was always around Valentines Day. Long time couples sometimes passed out single carnations to their girlfriends in school on that day, but that was the extent of signs of affection in school. One year the journalism class got the bright idea of selling Valentine day messages which you could fill out and have the class print up and deliver to your valentines of choice. It was not a huge success.
College was my awakening into how other places were much more elaborate in their celebrations of love, at least outwardly. I remember my freshman year I had just started dating a guy who went to a different school hours away from where I was at Alma College. I always remember walking uptown and picking out Hallmark Valentine cards for my parents, grandparents and brothers and sister, such was my emersion into the rights of Valentines Day away from home. I remember the switchboard crowded by flower arrangements all morning long. Girls delighted squeals as the men in their lives remembered them with arrangements of varying degrees of expense and romaticism. The day went on and my roommate received her flowers from her long distance boyfriend and I wondered if Tim would think enough of me to send flowers or if a card would suffice for him. It was afternoon before I got the switchboard announcement that there were flowers for me. I remember a smile from ear to ear and immense relief that I fit in with the rest of the girl's dorm by getting the arrangement of flowers that said I was special to someone. It was a lovely arrangement as I recall and was the zenith of my college experience with V-Day. The years after I would have no longtime boyfriend and while I received a rose or two from good "guy" friends, it was the arrangement of flowers from my freshmen year, I most remember. And much of that had as much to do with the need to fit in my freshmen year as it did the arrangement of flowers, which apparently was not the case later on. I do remember feeling melancholy on a few of those following V-Day's as while it was a sign of independence, it was also the one day where you want to be a couple. As that day would leave I would often breathe a sigh that things and expectations could get back to normal.
For the life of me I cannot remember what Kurt got me our first Valentines as a couple. I know he got me something and I'm pretty sure it was some kind of roses, but I don't remember them. It wasn't until a couple of years down the road of our married life, that I discovered while Kurt always remembered Valentines Day and always bought me at least a card, it was always preceded by a dash to the local florist the day of, on the way home from work to see what was left that he could purchase. The same held true of cards, whatever was left on that day. Flowers and prepackaged romantic sentiments were not my husband's thing. I learned over the years, and while that might have included some disappointing Valentine days, was that my husband was rock solid and never forgot to bring me at the very least, a card. He just wasn't a planner of romance. I am not a rose fan, and certainly not a red rose fan. If money is going to be spent on flowers which I do love, spend it on an arrangement or a bouquet of mixed flowers. That said, Kurt believes in roses because that's what is there around V-Day. Through the years his cards have meant more to me, as while they may have been the V-Day leftovers, they were a sentiment he picked out and read, and thought of me as he picked them out. I still have them all.
The gifts of Valentine Day have come and gone and most haven't been remembered, chocolates that were eaten, roses that died too soon, and silly cards that made me smile and wonder how large was the selection left. As my children reached that magical age of grade school valentines it became the job of me to buy the valentines and then cajole and harangue them into signing them and getting them ready for the school parties. Gone were the days of carefully picking out what cards they wanted. Whatever, was fine with them. As they grew up, I became more moody with the approach of Valentines Day. I rebelled against the commercialism that had once again overtaken a holiday that started out as a commercial venture, anyway. As I grow older, age and the long dark winters make my outlook darker and I tend to look to V-Day as a lifeboat, even though it rarely is. There were some very bad Valentine Days and probably more just mediocre ones of recent. Valentines day this year was just strange. My kids have never sent out valentine wishes to their parents, though Ryan did call later in the day, and as for my friends we all just kind of think its silly to send out sentiments to one another. But for the first time in our marriage, Kurt got me neither a card or flowers or any outward sign that it was Valentine Day. He felt bad, and I don't think he expected my reaction. I didn't expect my reaction as I guess subconsciously I was looking forward to my sweetheart of over 34 years remembering. even though you would have to live in a cave not to know the day was approaching. Honestly, I felt left out. I know my mother would give anything to have my dad around to "not" remember. But it was just a day and I was glad when it was done as it marks the last holiday of winter and the lean days of Lent, of somberness will give way to the joy that is Easter and spring.
And so it goes...
This morning is cold. My thermometer reads a bone chilling 0 degrees, but once again we are told we have braved and survived another period of below normal temps and out of whack winter weather after 4 days of weather last week that melted every thing in sight most of it over one very warm night. Another snow storm of the same variety on Sunday night, though the accumulations while approximate to the last storm, had only bare ground to blow across, so the digging out was easier, I think....
But back to V-Day. I have a love/hate relationship with Valentine Day. As a child in school it was one of the three big holidays celebrated in school. Halloween, Christmas and Valentines Day. School parties that we would wait for with baited breath. Heart shaped cookies and red hots along with soapy tasting heart shaped candies with romantic sayings on each one. But the biggest thing was the Valentines we exchnaged. It was a shopping trip we were always allowed to go on, and I would agonize for days on what direction I wanted to go with my Valentines. Granted I was somewhat limited as makers of Valentines weren't the saavy marketers they are today. There were basically 3 or 4 styles in my parents price range, some geared more towards little boys and the rest seducing little girls who put copious amounts of thought and desire into those little red hearts and sentiments. Once bought, we had to decide what was the best card in the bunch to give to our very best friends and perhaps the one boy we didn't find awful and who even at the tender ages of 7 and 8 we wanted to somehow impress. After those momentous decisions we would work our way down the ladder and go from lesser girl friends down through the boys to the few boys we could barely stand who got the least sentimental of a box of basically generic thoughts on love. The last valentines were always saved for the those who we just didn't even really think about and were just part of our class. To not give everyone a Valentine was never an option, and Valentine boxes were what we spent the week prior to V-Day working on and decorating. I don't know that there were ever crushed hopes and derailed dreams in those days of elementary children passing out innocent Valentines. We were all innocent then and only looked to see and analyze if our best friends had given us a Valentine of equal love and sharing, and sometimes if the boy we secretly liked had selected a Valentine that was more than just the neutral sentiment found in the rest of our cards. Sometimes we read much into that valentine and even more into a childish scrawl. But mostly after the party and the day were done, we put away the valentines, often shoved under our bed to occasionally be pulled out and looked at and analyzed once again. We'd dream silly, little girl dreams of that boy we liked, growing up and declaring his love for us and the white wedding dress that would follow, but that was as far as our dreams would go.
As we grew older the valentines became more elaborate, even as the party's became less. Jr. high school meant being cool and not giving away that secret which was the boy you liked from afar. The liking was more pronounced but the secrecy kept more carefully. One year I made all my Valentines after being enthralled with a girl the year before who had taken the time to hand make all of her Valentines. I labored for a week before hand making the valentines and deciding who would get what valentine. It was the peak of my Valentine creativity.
High school saw the end of the Valentines as I had known them in grade school. It wasn't cool to pass out valentines and even less cool to do so in front of other people, so the valentine became an obsolete anachronism even though we felt as strongly, if not more about our friends and those boys we liked. We just couldn't show it. We sometimes passed out silly cards among us girls, but the order of the day became the Sweetheart Dance put on my the school's FFA and for those who have no notion of what that is, it stood for Future Farmers of America, and they selected several girls to compete for Sweetheart of the dance to be accompanied onto the floor by an FFA member of their choice. Even then we thought it was kind of dorky, but it was one of our more formal dances, in that we got to dress up, the girls were given corsages if they had a date, and it was always around Valentines Day. Long time couples sometimes passed out single carnations to their girlfriends in school on that day, but that was the extent of signs of affection in school. One year the journalism class got the bright idea of selling Valentine day messages which you could fill out and have the class print up and deliver to your valentines of choice. It was not a huge success.
College was my awakening into how other places were much more elaborate in their celebrations of love, at least outwardly. I remember my freshman year I had just started dating a guy who went to a different school hours away from where I was at Alma College. I always remember walking uptown and picking out Hallmark Valentine cards for my parents, grandparents and brothers and sister, such was my emersion into the rights of Valentines Day away from home. I remember the switchboard crowded by flower arrangements all morning long. Girls delighted squeals as the men in their lives remembered them with arrangements of varying degrees of expense and romaticism. The day went on and my roommate received her flowers from her long distance boyfriend and I wondered if Tim would think enough of me to send flowers or if a card would suffice for him. It was afternoon before I got the switchboard announcement that there were flowers for me. I remember a smile from ear to ear and immense relief that I fit in with the rest of the girl's dorm by getting the arrangement of flowers that said I was special to someone. It was a lovely arrangement as I recall and was the zenith of my college experience with V-Day. The years after I would have no longtime boyfriend and while I received a rose or two from good "guy" friends, it was the arrangement of flowers from my freshmen year, I most remember. And much of that had as much to do with the need to fit in my freshmen year as it did the arrangement of flowers, which apparently was not the case later on. I do remember feeling melancholy on a few of those following V-Day's as while it was a sign of independence, it was also the one day where you want to be a couple. As that day would leave I would often breathe a sigh that things and expectations could get back to normal.
For the life of me I cannot remember what Kurt got me our first Valentines as a couple. I know he got me something and I'm pretty sure it was some kind of roses, but I don't remember them. It wasn't until a couple of years down the road of our married life, that I discovered while Kurt always remembered Valentines Day and always bought me at least a card, it was always preceded by a dash to the local florist the day of, on the way home from work to see what was left that he could purchase. The same held true of cards, whatever was left on that day. Flowers and prepackaged romantic sentiments were not my husband's thing. I learned over the years, and while that might have included some disappointing Valentine days, was that my husband was rock solid and never forgot to bring me at the very least, a card. He just wasn't a planner of romance. I am not a rose fan, and certainly not a red rose fan. If money is going to be spent on flowers which I do love, spend it on an arrangement or a bouquet of mixed flowers. That said, Kurt believes in roses because that's what is there around V-Day. Through the years his cards have meant more to me, as while they may have been the V-Day leftovers, they were a sentiment he picked out and read, and thought of me as he picked them out. I still have them all.
The gifts of Valentine Day have come and gone and most haven't been remembered, chocolates that were eaten, roses that died too soon, and silly cards that made me smile and wonder how large was the selection left. As my children reached that magical age of grade school valentines it became the job of me to buy the valentines and then cajole and harangue them into signing them and getting them ready for the school parties. Gone were the days of carefully picking out what cards they wanted. Whatever, was fine with them. As they grew up, I became more moody with the approach of Valentines Day. I rebelled against the commercialism that had once again overtaken a holiday that started out as a commercial venture, anyway. As I grow older, age and the long dark winters make my outlook darker and I tend to look to V-Day as a lifeboat, even though it rarely is. There were some very bad Valentine Days and probably more just mediocre ones of recent. Valentines day this year was just strange. My kids have never sent out valentine wishes to their parents, though Ryan did call later in the day, and as for my friends we all just kind of think its silly to send out sentiments to one another. But for the first time in our marriage, Kurt got me neither a card or flowers or any outward sign that it was Valentine Day. He felt bad, and I don't think he expected my reaction. I didn't expect my reaction as I guess subconsciously I was looking forward to my sweetheart of over 34 years remembering. even though you would have to live in a cave not to know the day was approaching. Honestly, I felt left out. I know my mother would give anything to have my dad around to "not" remember. But it was just a day and I was glad when it was done as it marks the last holiday of winter and the lean days of Lent, of somberness will give way to the joy that is Easter and spring.
And so it goes...
Friday, February 11, 2011
Friday Thoughts
Cars on the track at Daytona. Pitchers and catchers report to Lakeland, FL. The spring season for baseball is starting and Nascar is about to resume after a short winter's nap. And we are about to leave another bout of the "Deep Freeze" of Michigan, 2011, behind. As the sun rises on another pretty winter morning here, I wonder if next week when the temperatures are to hit in the 40's and beyond, if I will then complain about "dirty snow", slush and the mud that inevitably will appear. It is after all, only February here in Michigan so we will not see spring anytime soon, but I guess a change from the Dr. Zhivago like crystal frozen beauty that has been us this past week to a change for the warmer will be welcome, though I will likely complain about that also.
I try to head outside at least once a day with the dogs to walk them as braving the cold always makes me feel energized when I come back in and ready to tackle something new. Whether I actually accomplish anything remains to be seen but at the least, I feel like I may. This week it has been sorting and labeling old photographs that have never found their way into an album. They go back as far as 2002, and were just thrown in the "Album cupboard" awaiting placement in an album which somehow never occurred. The closer we have come to the present days, the less pictures I have in printed form as most I just now save to the computer or on a cd. So, I know my labeling and cataloging is nearing its end at around 2007. Inevitably when I tire of figuring out the years of some pictures, I pull out an old album, mostly from when my kids were just that...kids and even babies and I think how unconcerned we all look in those pictures. There is one that is a favorite of mine at Sand Lake when my grandparents still owned the cottage there. Annie was just over a year old. That year she had a pink bathing suit with ruffles across her bottom. We have several of her marching along the beach with usually Grandma in tow in case she fell over and into the water, which she did often and with seemingly little care, as we would pluck her out, stand her upright, no tears, no crying, and she would just start walking again. But in this picture she is laying between my legs, while we both sit on an old quilted blanket. I am brushing sand from her hair and she is calmly eating an oreo cookie that probably has more sand in it then anything else. I am drawn, as I reexamine this picture after all these years, at the simplicity of the scene and the trusting nature of my daughter as she calmly lays against me, and the almost casual way my hand is resting just above her head, a gesture so common I do it with half a mind I am sure, my attention elsewhere, but one so trusting in the mother-child relationship. I wonder now as I have wondered often when did that complete trust in "Mom" leave my children and cause them to venture out on their own? It happens to every parent and child, but for that frozen moment it is captured so vividly for me. Soon I will hold a grandchild and embark on that wonderful journey of a grandma and I wonder what moments will be frozen in time for me then. I hope my mind can conjure all the wonderful ones that await me and I can enjoy each one in its wholeness.
I lingered over the albums for three days enjoying going back in time to a place that seems so much simpler now, though I know it wasn't. I know I was overstressed with being a young parent, and trying to live on one wage and all of the unknown's of raising children in a society radically different than my parents raised me. It is now through the lens of time, that I know my children will think the same of my grandchildren. But somehow, it just all seems so much simpler then, diluted now to wonderful color pictures of babies and toddlers doing the wonderful things they do, that I was lucky enough to capture on film and now decades later marvel at once again. I remember so few of these things now and ask myself, did that really happen? Did I actually have three babies at one time and did I somehow navigate them through life? They grew up and now those baby years are so precious, and it is the one thing if I could do over I would in a heartbeat. Just a few days, weeks, months of them as babies with their lives, (and mine), spread out before us....
Time for a change in the weather and time to close up the albums for a bit and look to tearing down wallpaper, as the new has finally arrived and that's a story for a different day.....
I try to head outside at least once a day with the dogs to walk them as braving the cold always makes me feel energized when I come back in and ready to tackle something new. Whether I actually accomplish anything remains to be seen but at the least, I feel like I may. This week it has been sorting and labeling old photographs that have never found their way into an album. They go back as far as 2002, and were just thrown in the "Album cupboard" awaiting placement in an album which somehow never occurred. The closer we have come to the present days, the less pictures I have in printed form as most I just now save to the computer or on a cd. So, I know my labeling and cataloging is nearing its end at around 2007. Inevitably when I tire of figuring out the years of some pictures, I pull out an old album, mostly from when my kids were just that...kids and even babies and I think how unconcerned we all look in those pictures. There is one that is a favorite of mine at Sand Lake when my grandparents still owned the cottage there. Annie was just over a year old. That year she had a pink bathing suit with ruffles across her bottom. We have several of her marching along the beach with usually Grandma in tow in case she fell over and into the water, which she did often and with seemingly little care, as we would pluck her out, stand her upright, no tears, no crying, and she would just start walking again. But in this picture she is laying between my legs, while we both sit on an old quilted blanket. I am brushing sand from her hair and she is calmly eating an oreo cookie that probably has more sand in it then anything else. I am drawn, as I reexamine this picture after all these years, at the simplicity of the scene and the trusting nature of my daughter as she calmly lays against me, and the almost casual way my hand is resting just above her head, a gesture so common I do it with half a mind I am sure, my attention elsewhere, but one so trusting in the mother-child relationship. I wonder now as I have wondered often when did that complete trust in "Mom" leave my children and cause them to venture out on their own? It happens to every parent and child, but for that frozen moment it is captured so vividly for me. Soon I will hold a grandchild and embark on that wonderful journey of a grandma and I wonder what moments will be frozen in time for me then. I hope my mind can conjure all the wonderful ones that await me and I can enjoy each one in its wholeness.
I lingered over the albums for three days enjoying going back in time to a place that seems so much simpler now, though I know it wasn't. I know I was overstressed with being a young parent, and trying to live on one wage and all of the unknown's of raising children in a society radically different than my parents raised me. It is now through the lens of time, that I know my children will think the same of my grandchildren. But somehow, it just all seems so much simpler then, diluted now to wonderful color pictures of babies and toddlers doing the wonderful things they do, that I was lucky enough to capture on film and now decades later marvel at once again. I remember so few of these things now and ask myself, did that really happen? Did I actually have three babies at one time and did I somehow navigate them through life? They grew up and now those baby years are so precious, and it is the one thing if I could do over I would in a heartbeat. Just a few days, weeks, months of them as babies with their lives, (and mine), spread out before us....
Time for a change in the weather and time to close up the albums for a bit and look to tearing down wallpaper, as the new has finally arrived and that's a story for a different day.....
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Surviving Winter Wallop...
Watching the history of chocolate, and wishing I could dive in to that vat of chocolate. I have been gone too long from here, and now the many thoughts of this past week are as murky as that vat of very good looking chocolate. Throw in some peanut butter, peanuts, almonds, or caramel and I am right there with ya...I will have died and gone to heaven.
Hence the temptation to do nothing but eat chocolate this past week and read, read, read. I managed to do the reading and resisted chocolate temptation for the most, as we lived through the first big blizzard of this winter and certainly for a few years here in Michigan. We heard about the approaching Armeggedon for days before it actually struck on Tuesday evening, and by the time it actually arrived most of us hardened Midwesterners were more than a bit cynical at how effective it would be, (as in school closings for hopeful school children and their equally hopeful teachers and work stoppage for many others). As most of us would say, we'd been there, done that and been disappointed more times than not. But by 11 pm that night the wind was howling and snow was drifting everywhere and the bulk was to still be coming. Schools were closed and I settled in to see what morning would bring.
Kurt was up at 4 a.m. and worry or anxiety had me up right after to see what the out of doors looked like. We had two, four foot drifts down two spots in the driveway. The backyard we really couldn't see enough to make out how much snow we had gotten during the night. We could discern it was still snowing and snowing hard. Several phone calls to his brother, and other guys in the plant had me believing Kurt was more worried than the others about the day's events. He decided to wait until daylight to get the tractor out and begin plowing the driveway out. I had electricity, satellite tv, and my internet still worked, so I was quite content with what this "Hump Day" would bring. At daylight it was still snowing and blowing heavily, but Kurt got out the tractor and cleaned out the drive, and down the road enough to see if he could get out later on. Boredom and cabin fever brought on by an anxious husband, had me dress in my heavy duty clothing and try the out of doors. We had a couple of drifts as high as the four foot fences in back and a rather nice 6 foot drift in the back yard beyond the fence. And when I approached the front of the house, a piece of house siding on the front porch was laying on the floor, obviously the fierce Northeast wind had blown it off. Two pieces of the porch metal ceiling were either flapping in the wind or bowed down. I put the siding which now had a crack in it, into the garage to replace after the wind died down and when Kurt had finished we "collaborated" on putting the ceiling back in place. I use the word collaborated loosely. If he would just listen to me, (which he never has in over 33 years), it would have went faster and been successful. As it was, we got them back in place but I didn't have much hope they would stay in place. And I would have been correct as always, the ceiling piece blew completely off shortly after we left it. Holy Cow, I feel like Dorothy in Kansas, where I feared parts of my house would end up.
By 10:00 a.m. Kurt was tired of being at home while others were at work and I told him to go. I, obviously, wasn't going anywhere, but as long as I had the amenities I was fine with being snowed in. The news here was weather and as it was the upper Midwest's first big blizzard when the mid-Atlantic and upper South had been getting bombarded by snows that were not at all usual, we were not news to anyone but us. I settled in and took it easy, for what I thought was the rest of the day. Apparently I was the only one who was content to have it quiet and not worry about whether a snowplow went down our road. Phone calls and internet buzzings were scattered throughout the afternoon. About 2 p.m., the snows had stopped and though the wind still blew, the blizzard was over. I estimated about a foot of snow, but it was hard to tell, as it was moving from east to west at a prodigious clip. The sun finally broke through and Kurt was back by 3 to again plow what had drifted in since morning. At almost dark, a phone call from Ryan let me know he had gotten his truck stuck just down the road the other side of the neighbors in a big drift. Kurt had already pulled out a couple of trucks that had tried the roads during the day, so the tractor went back out and he pulled Ryan, Alison and Ben back to our place and we had a blizzard hearty meal of stuffed peppers. Ryan had been itching to "play" on the tractor and move snow so he cleared a path down the road to get out. No snow plow had hit our road, a fact that had Kurt perturbed, but I didn't worry about it. The kids and Ben left after the road was cleared, and while all schools would be closed for a second day, we knew the worst of Winter Wallop was behind us. Thursday would be dig out day, the snow plows would go by, and business would be up and running, though schools were still off.
The final estimate of snow fall was about 10 to 11 inches around here, hardly blizzard proportions but the combination of the blizzard winds made is seem like much more. I read, finishing a book in a couple of days, something I rarely do anymore. My house still has pieces of itself laying in the garage awaiting reapplication in a slightly more battered form. I cleaned and decided how the rest of my winter would go. Oh yeah, that's gonna happen. But its nice to plan, even if I seldom accomplish, and if all else fails there is always chocolate, and chocolate and peanut butter and chocolate and peanuts and chocolate and almonds...
Hence the temptation to do nothing but eat chocolate this past week and read, read, read. I managed to do the reading and resisted chocolate temptation for the most, as we lived through the first big blizzard of this winter and certainly for a few years here in Michigan. We heard about the approaching Armeggedon for days before it actually struck on Tuesday evening, and by the time it actually arrived most of us hardened Midwesterners were more than a bit cynical at how effective it would be, (as in school closings for hopeful school children and their equally hopeful teachers and work stoppage for many others). As most of us would say, we'd been there, done that and been disappointed more times than not. But by 11 pm that night the wind was howling and snow was drifting everywhere and the bulk was to still be coming. Schools were closed and I settled in to see what morning would bring.
Kurt was up at 4 a.m. and worry or anxiety had me up right after to see what the out of doors looked like. We had two, four foot drifts down two spots in the driveway. The backyard we really couldn't see enough to make out how much snow we had gotten during the night. We could discern it was still snowing and snowing hard. Several phone calls to his brother, and other guys in the plant had me believing Kurt was more worried than the others about the day's events. He decided to wait until daylight to get the tractor out and begin plowing the driveway out. I had electricity, satellite tv, and my internet still worked, so I was quite content with what this "Hump Day" would bring. At daylight it was still snowing and blowing heavily, but Kurt got out the tractor and cleaned out the drive, and down the road enough to see if he could get out later on. Boredom and cabin fever brought on by an anxious husband, had me dress in my heavy duty clothing and try the out of doors. We had a couple of drifts as high as the four foot fences in back and a rather nice 6 foot drift in the back yard beyond the fence. And when I approached the front of the house, a piece of house siding on the front porch was laying on the floor, obviously the fierce Northeast wind had blown it off. Two pieces of the porch metal ceiling were either flapping in the wind or bowed down. I put the siding which now had a crack in it, into the garage to replace after the wind died down and when Kurt had finished we "collaborated" on putting the ceiling back in place. I use the word collaborated loosely. If he would just listen to me, (which he never has in over 33 years), it would have went faster and been successful. As it was, we got them back in place but I didn't have much hope they would stay in place. And I would have been correct as always, the ceiling piece blew completely off shortly after we left it. Holy Cow, I feel like Dorothy in Kansas, where I feared parts of my house would end up.
By 10:00 a.m. Kurt was tired of being at home while others were at work and I told him to go. I, obviously, wasn't going anywhere, but as long as I had the amenities I was fine with being snowed in. The news here was weather and as it was the upper Midwest's first big blizzard when the mid-Atlantic and upper South had been getting bombarded by snows that were not at all usual, we were not news to anyone but us. I settled in and took it easy, for what I thought was the rest of the day. Apparently I was the only one who was content to have it quiet and not worry about whether a snowplow went down our road. Phone calls and internet buzzings were scattered throughout the afternoon. About 2 p.m., the snows had stopped and though the wind still blew, the blizzard was over. I estimated about a foot of snow, but it was hard to tell, as it was moving from east to west at a prodigious clip. The sun finally broke through and Kurt was back by 3 to again plow what had drifted in since morning. At almost dark, a phone call from Ryan let me know he had gotten his truck stuck just down the road the other side of the neighbors in a big drift. Kurt had already pulled out a couple of trucks that had tried the roads during the day, so the tractor went back out and he pulled Ryan, Alison and Ben back to our place and we had a blizzard hearty meal of stuffed peppers. Ryan had been itching to "play" on the tractor and move snow so he cleared a path down the road to get out. No snow plow had hit our road, a fact that had Kurt perturbed, but I didn't worry about it. The kids and Ben left after the road was cleared, and while all schools would be closed for a second day, we knew the worst of Winter Wallop was behind us. Thursday would be dig out day, the snow plows would go by, and business would be up and running, though schools were still off.
The final estimate of snow fall was about 10 to 11 inches around here, hardly blizzard proportions but the combination of the blizzard winds made is seem like much more. I read, finishing a book in a couple of days, something I rarely do anymore. My house still has pieces of itself laying in the garage awaiting reapplication in a slightly more battered form. I cleaned and decided how the rest of my winter would go. Oh yeah, that's gonna happen. But its nice to plan, even if I seldom accomplish, and if all else fails there is always chocolate, and chocolate and peanut butter and chocolate and peanuts and chocolate and almonds...
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