Mom And Her Vick's

I don't know how it got here.

All I know is it came.

It came to the stores, the houses, the places of employment, its in the air, on the door knob's and toilet handles.

The dishes are being scrubbed down with Clorox.

Honey has busted out his industrial size hand sanitizer.

Vitamins are religiously taken.

Chicken soup was even made. The really good homemade kind, it was.

Window's are opened for a while each afternoon to help get stagnant air out and clean fresh air in.

Still this cold, that I am not going to get, is hanging on in all its various stages of misery around here.



When I was little, my Mom used to do the most horrible thing to us kids when we got sick.

Well, I thought it was not nice.

She would dig out a big safety pin, a long white sock, and that bottomless tub of Vick's she managed to purchase down at Hamilton's Drug store.
She would slather it all over us!!!
Chest, back, put on an undershirt and p.j.'s,
Next came the neck, that's where the warmed up sock was wrapped around, not to tight, and pinned.

Then horrors of horror's!!

A big dollop of the stinky goo was slapped on the bottom's of our feet!!
Smeared around, while strict instructions were given for us to put on our sock's, lay down and read a book.

There we would lay, with our shirts stuck to us, the sock making us feel like we were in a gummy neck brace. Feet encased in clinging sock's.
Vick's vapor's so heavy in the air it made your eye's water.

This was repeated as often as she deemed necessary.

It was icky, sticky, and stinky!!

I sore so many times that I would never do that to my kids, when I was a Mom.

Turns out I lied.
I did do that to my kids.
Every time they caught a cold.
They hated it as much as I did.

So this cold.
The one I am not getting?
I'm hearing my mom's voice in my head, telling me to, "Buck up and break out the Vick's..."

Ok.
Ok.
Shesh!
But I'm not gonna like it.
Well the reading a book part I will :)

Thank Heaven's it was a mustard plaster!!!

Lost In The Pictures

This morning as I was perusing literally thousands of pictures, it came to my attention that I take a lot of pictures, and I like it!

This is one of my favorites from this past Summer.

The three kayak's are carrying two grandchildren and a son while the beach comber's are Honey and the youngest grand daughter... That was a wonderful day!



This mornings trip through frozen memories had a reason, a purpose behind it.
Someone has asked me for a print of a picture,
I took last fall,
on a Saturday,
in the morning,
at a grand parents house,
on the stairs,
with a giraffe.

See I really do know what picture I am looking for. Trouble is, I don't know exactly where it is.

I remember seeing it not too terribly long ago, so I figured I could go right to it.

Not so.

I have not found the specific picture I am looking for.

Not yet.

But I will.

I shall persevere.

I just hope I'm not persevering at three a.m. because I can't get it off my mind :/

per·se·vere

  /ˌpɜrsəˈvɪər/ Show Spelled [pur-suh-veer]  verb, -vered, -ver·ing.  

1. to persist in anything undertaken; maintain a purpose in spite of difficulty, obstacles, or discouragement; continue steadfastly.

 

 

When I Am Old

I have to admit that I thought that when you got old. Grandmother age old. That life would be quiet and leisurely...

Not so.
Having been at a Grammy age for a while now, I find that I am busier now than I was even as a young wife and mom, but I seem to be more behind on most everything in my world now than I was even then!
What happened to the slowing down?!
Ok well I have been slowing down, but not like I thought I would.
I remember Honey's grandmother telling me one day about laying in bed one morning and making a mental list of the things her sixteen year old mind thought she should accomplish that day. The list was quite lengthy, it included things she had not been able to get around to for a long time, things we consider annual chores, and some just for kicks n giggles. Once the mental list was compiled, momentum adequately build up, she threw back the covers, realizing immediately that it was much colder out there than she had anticipated, she took a deep breath,  went to swing her legs over the edge of the bed and sit up and...

"That is where my sixteen year old mind and my eighty-something year old body disagreed. The mind was willing and the body?", sticking out her tongue and blowing a raspberry for emphases.
She confessed that she climbed back under the quilts to wait for it to warm up a little more. She laughed as she told me how decedent it was to have that ability to lay in bed longer if she wanted.
Quick to tell me that she was up and ready in plenty of time for " sötsaker och kaffe", (sweet treats and coffee). A time each week, when her children would come over to her house for coffee, tea, or postum and a sweet bread of some sort, and visit a morning away together. 

The moral of this story is, to learn when your mind is younger than your body, trust both to know what you can do and when, and that it is ok to lay in bed a little longer sometimes. Relish the moments of pleasure with loved ones as often as you can.
On days when I'm feeling old, I would sure like to grab a pillow, blanket, and a good book, lay on the heater all day reading, and stop only for ice cream :) Cause I hear that when you are old, you only have to do the things you want to... riiight!

Take The Time To Learn The Old Stories

A trip through the country side the other day set me to pondering.

There were so many cool old barns, many relatively forgotten. A rare few still in good repair and used.

Time has rendered many obsolete.

Yet many of these old barns still stand, sturdy, against ravages of the seasons.

It' is interesting to me that time seems to have the same effect on some people too.
It is hard to imagine that a grandparent was once a child, or a teen!
I remember a friend of mine who was in her eighties, I knew her all my life. When I was a child, she was very tall with an intimidating air, so it seemed to a runny nose neighbor kid. When I advanced to the age she had been, she had advanced considerably in age, but that is when time brought us our friendship.
I remember the day she brought out one of her picture albums and showed me some pictures of when she was in her early teen years. We laughed as she took me down this lane of her memory to show me how she, with a few of her friends, had made swim suits out of rhubarb leaves, at a girl's camp in the mountains one summer.
She went on to tell me about when her husband and a friend, brought their first new table into their first new house, then how after trying, way past the point of exasperation, they had not succeeded in getting past the interior door, dividing the living room from the dining room, and were now talking about tearing out a wall. She laughed as she told me how she quietly gave them an idea of one last way to try, and how they, but not she, was surprised that it worked.
She then sent me on a errand to the basement to look at said table down in yon laundry room. Upon my return she continued telling me of the usefulness of that table and how she just couldn't bear to part with it, even though it had been in its present spot for some years now.
It's usefulness seemingly past.
She looked me square in the eye, as was her way, and you paid attention when she did too!
"You will come and get that table tomorrow night, take it home, you will use it as a sewing table, and you will remember me everytime you see it."
I did. And I do.

I remember the time she was walking across her living room, stopping in the middle of the room, leaning heavily on her walker, her scoliosis making it impossible for her to straighten up to her once regal height, "You know. It is so hard to to know that this body used to play center on the girls basketball team, and now it can barley make it across the room without a rest. This getting old is not always kind to us".


Old barns have stories.
Old houses have stories.
Old girl's and boy's have stories.
If you know someone that knows the stories, ask them to tell you. I promise you wont regret taking the time.

Kids, Kitty"s & Colds

Almost everyone at our house is in different stages of colds. I say almost, because so far (knock on wood) I'm doing good.

Colds in noses, colds in chest's, colds in the kitchen where they spread easier. So Its break out the Clorox to wipe counter's, door knobs and chairs time of year.

I am a believer in Echinacea, I have taken it every school season for years and I have been lucky enough to not get sick often, and if I do, it doesn't hit hard or last long.

Years ago a nurse told me that if you start taking it just before cold and flu season, stop a week before Christmas break, then start taking it again at least 5 days before you go back to school. I tried it, I pass it on to you.

Kids and kitty's. Kitty's and kids.

They have so much energy!

I often wish I could have just a little of the energy they have. But would it make me more worn out?

Playing together yesterday under the pine tree's was a great way to spend an autumn morning.

She wanted to bring the little black and white guy home with her, but alas... Old cat's are not always nice to kitty's, and we have an OLD ornery cat that lives at our house.

I know. Because when we got home she followed Tiny Dancer's every footstep into the house, smelling and sniffing. Later when we went out back to play? Old and ornery Pooka would not even look in Tiny Dancer's direction. She would not speak to her, and I believe, she may have even  given a raspberry in her general direction when her back was turned.

Maybe today she will be forgiven?

My Hunting Story

The mountains are brightly colored with colors that crayola would be hard pressed to match.
Fleeting as they are I am glad I got to see them, even if it was from a distance.
Hunting season is going on so there are many traipsing the trails, some possibly blazing their own, through those vivid colors.

I recall views from the ridges.
I miss the smell! Oh the smell! There is just a smell that can not be duplicated, and one would be hard pressed to adequately describe the magnificent scent of the mountains.

Don't spend your nights tossing and turning with worry that I did not hike the old trails or sit on the ridge, or sit on a side hill with my eye's peeled, watching for the wild beasties that live in yon range.

I have done those things in my life. The most memorable was the first trip...

I was from town, young and in love.
He was from the country, young and in love. And, he hunted.
We asked all the appropriate guardians for permission for me to go along. Permission was granted. Plans were made.
We would be taking the motor cycle up as far as the rock slide, then hike the rest of the way up, joining his brothers and friends up by the mine.
He was so strong and confident, I trusted him completely.
He coached me in what to wear, to bring, and to leave at home.
The designated night came. It was dusk when we were finally adequately bundled, packs tied closed, we began lugging everything out back by the 'killing tree', where I waited while Honey went to retrieve the motorcycle.
I waited. Then waited. Then waited some more.
The sun was completely to bed, the moon not quite ready to make its appearance. The chill turned to down right cold. Then I saw him, walking down from the barn, pushing the motorcycle?
We moved close to the back porch where he could use the light to work on said motor bike.

Soon it was cold enough to see your breath, his fingers were numb, the light was to bad, so he did something I still to this day can not believe he did!

We went to the newly formed plan B, loaded everything into the car and he put the motorcycle...in the MIDDLE of his mother's kitchen to get warm!! So that someone would be able to work on it later?!

By now it was after eleven at night. We drove to the first gate, unloaded the car, harnessed on the back pack's, broke out the flashlights, but didn't turn them on. No. Because mountain man Honey said that the Moon would be "Poppin' over the rise in just a few minutes". And so we began the six hour hike, in the dark, to the mine.

I was not a hiker, I was no Mountain Mag, this was all very foreign to me, I only had one sure fact replaying in my head. "Mountain loins eat the slowest and the weakest".
I was going to either be eaten by a cougar, or fall over a cliff to a gruesome death, in the dark! He would not even know I was gone! Because he told me not to talk so I wouldn't scare off any deer!

I freely admitted then and I do even more so now-Honey was great with me. He hiked much slower than he was used to, we took breaks so I could rest very often, he let me use the flash light to get over the rock slide, He gave me pep talks and held my hand as much as he could. 
Six a.m. we arrived at the camp. Everyone else was just getting up, so Honey tucked me into one of the still warm sleeping bags while cold lunches were made cold breakfasts eaten, talk was all of the problem of the motorcycle and where everyone would be hunting. 
I was exhausted. No denying it then or now. 
We had to leave the warm confines of the sleeping bags and tents behind us way sooner than I wanted. But we had to be on the side hill as close to sun rise as possible. So off we went for another mile or two. He found the spot where he wanted to be, and I sat down.
Ok, it was more of an I tipped over, but I was not moving from that spot.
Honey took pity on me and built me what he said was a fire. It was about as big around as my hand and it warmed my fingers, I could have cried with happiness.
He told me to keep my eye's open and watch the side of the mountain facing us for any deer. I was to engrossed in getting my hands warmed up, and my watching skills were tired too. I looked up, pointed across and said like that one with the four points on its horns?
He said, "That right there is why I brought you".
I did get to take a good nap in the morning sun while he was away.
We headed back down at about ten, the motorcycle was warm and running so he was able to drive it back up...I went home and slept!

I hunted twice after that. Not in a row. Not for years now. And we are good with that.

I have been blessed to hiked the trails, have mountain air fill my lungs, sat on the tippy top of mountain ridges and seen some of the beasties. 

Nooo! Not Again

Well I did it- again.

I took some amazing, wonderful, breathe taking, and even some humorous pictures over the past couple of day's...
And lost them this morning.

How?!

I got in a hurry and took the chip out of the computer before they were done transferring, and then I erased the chip before checking to make sure they all got to the designated folder.

Plain and simple I was in to big of a hurry and should have slowed down.

So now, you may never believe me when I tell you, that I got a picture of our orange tabby named, Honkie, grinning a big toothy grin.

But I did.
 And even a few people saw it on the camera.
Not enough people, but some.

So the moral of this story is this; When downloading your pictures from camera to computer...Take you time!!!

I have done this once before, two and a half years ago in the spring.
It scarred me.
I cried.
I cried a lot.
Because I had some of the best pictures I have taken, and I did this same thing.
Funny thing is, I can still see in my minds eye the one picture, the one that got away, the one that I cried the most over losing that first time.


So learn from me my friends.
Have patience when transferring pictures.
Never reformat or erase pictures from your camera until you have checked to be double-dog sure that they are where you put them...

ALL of them.

I can tell you I will be very careful in the future... again.


ps
If you want to have a lot of fun and see things totally diferent than you have for a while?
Give a child a camera and see what they think is photo worthy :)

The Prefectness Of Fall...

If I were to describe to you the perfectness of Autumn, it would go something like this:

     The perfectness of Autumn is more a feeling than an actual thing.

     I think of the perfectness of Autumn as the first day it feels like Fall. You know, the day the very air itself changes... it is cooler, the air smells crisp and the tree's are changing color. The peaches are on and the apples are in, you start seeing flower's you never noticed before.

     Its' when you want the Fall smells, colors, as well as tastes to be everywhere. The smell of fresh peach pies, apple scrapples, home baked bread and soup.

     It's sitting out on the porch and talking with friend's and family, laughing and remembering. It's a time to begin to gather together to reminisce about the 'old day's'.

It's the day you put the warmer quilts back on the bed. Pull out the sweater's and slipper's, while putting the summer clothes away. It's the time to start working on afghan's, quilts, and things to help keep you warm in the working.
     It's the smell of burning ditch banks, the sound of laughing children playing in the leaves.
     The time when you do your canning. I like doing peaches and tomatoes best! Both bring a flood of happy memories.
     Its going for strolls in the evening, holding the hand of someone you love, while enjoying the things that the summer has left, the flower garden's, the bailed fields, the changing mountain colors.
     It is the best time of year!

Sign's of Fall Around Here

I thought I would take this opportunity to show you a few of the signs of Fall around our house...

I love to see natures art, like these leaf prints we get in the driveway;

I was a little surprised to see a big old bumble bee still out collecting on an overcast day.
It was fun to watch him going systematically to each of the few remaining flowers;

It also looks like our fat ol cat, Pooka, has been storing up for the cold months ahead.
As you can see she isn't starved...for attention or food. Exercise seems to be a four letter word to her. We'll work on that.

I enjoy driving around and looking at how people decorate their yards and houses. This is one of my every season favorites.

I love to see Fall out in all her colors and coolness.

Thinking and Looking

You know, I've been pondering of late.

Thinking quit deeply.

Ruminating and reflecting.

About many of the experiences I've had throughout my life, as well as some of the experiences others have shared with me.

And do you know what?

Sometimes life sucks.

But here's the kicker...

While life can be mentally, emotionally and physically draining...

It can be interlaced with beauty, but sometimes we need to look for it harder than other times.

Like this peach tree for instance...

It's fruit came later this year due to a cooler climate than normal for this area.
So while this little tree has had more of a struggle to produce it's fruit, or accomplish the things it is meant to do to feel productive, the climate has not slowed the growth of the weeds and tall grasses that have overtaken the ground, sapping some of the tree's needed resources. No sir-e bob, they have been thriving.
Never once noticing the struggle of the peach tree as it carries on day in and day out.
An interesting thing to notice about the little tree though...look there, nestled against its base, spreading both upward around the tree, as well as out into the tall grasses, creating a bit of a water shed effect with it's lush thickness, is a flower.
A purple petunia.

As I noticed the quiet little flower there I began to look around at the surrounding trees in the orchard and noticed that, each tree had a flower at its base.
I asked the proprietor about this to which she replied, "I just thought that if a little flower could help make me happy, it could help make my orchard happy too."

This tied in with the things I have been contemplating of late.
Sharing.
Sharing the good things and the bad things.
Sharing the joys, laughter, and smiles. But also sharing the tears, fears, weights, and hard parts of life.
Sharing can be a seemingly un-noticed flower at our feet bringing us the possibility of finding beauty, even in the hardest parts of life.

Glad That Is Done...

You know I realize that there is Spring cleaning to be done after being shut up in the house all Winter, however, I really am not fond of the Fall cleaning bug that has bitten me this year.

Ok, it has bitten me harder this year than in years past.

Typically when it bites, it is to take care of things in the yard. Not the house.

We merged families earlier this year, maybe that has something to do with it?

I have been planning to get some things done, I thought I would have gotten them done long before now. But now didn't come until this past week end...

But first-Bottling waits for no man, woman, or child...

Salsa was a group project.
It goes much better when you have a group.
We each took an ingredient and went to work, the combined efforts turned out tasty!

I was on peach detail. I enjoy doing peaches.

I was tired at the end of the bottling marathon, so I postponed the cleaning project I have been procrastinating for a very, very long time, for just one more day.
Saturday rolled around, reluctantly I forced myself to face the dread pile of craft, that lay wait in the basement...  

Honestly, I do not know how I let it get in this condition. It embarrasses me to show you. Maybe it will prompt me to not let it gain a life of its own in the future.
A girl can dream can't she?

Ok. Brace yourselves...

I have been collecting things for a while. Every one with good intentions of completed projects. Unfortunately, few have come to fruition. But that doesn't stop me from hanging on to every single thing...

The crafting table my good friend, Yvonne, gave me years ago is hidden under layers of...

Fabric.

First off you know you have to make a bigger mess to clean the old one up right?
I laboriously dismantled the offending mountain... separating things into stacks. Then sorting through each stack and separating yet again. This time into junk it, donate it, and store in in new tubs, stacks. Once that was done I put the tubs- that I love- back into an island with walking space around it so everything is accessible.

Funny how things folded and put away take up so much less space.
Truth be told I didn't really get rid of a lot of stuff...I just arranged it in a manner that I can now find things in.
(I would also be very happy to receive any Levi quilt ideas you may want to share as I seem to have collected quit a few to turn into quilts).



And looky-looky!! The table!!!

I unearthed long forgotten projects that included but are not limited too...
Balls of torn sheets, rolled and ready to crochet into rugs...

The one that made me laugh the most was the little bag of...
Poopy Duck's I started in probably 1990 or before... 

It was a good week end.

It was a productive week end.

It is a week end I can say that I am glad that is done...

The Week End Plan

There is a great phenomenon about to occur at my house.

If people were privy to it, I gar-o-tee, they would be bringing their lawn chairs, cold drinks, and camera's.

The speculations, bets and other such wagers would be filling the air so thickly you would think you were at the horse races.  

With a gasp and pointing finger Bertha Mae would declare, "Oh my WORD! Ethel. Would you look at THAT!"

To  which our dear sweet Ethel would breathlessly reply, "I can hardly believe it!

Is she...?

She isn't really going to...?

Clean her craft heap this week end is she?!"

Well...that is the plan.