I grew up in Small Town, America in the ‘50s and ‘60s. It was very much the Leave it to Beaver upbringing most of us Boomers experienced. We didn’t have a TV till I was well into grade school. It was mesmerizing. I remember staring at the black and white screen with the snow and the squiggly lines and wondering, “What magic is this???” Mr. Cartoon and Captain Kangaroo and Father Knows Best. I Love Lucy and What’s My Line? and Donna Reed. They soon gave way to American Bandstand and Laugh In and Saturday Night Live.
My son-in-law’s mom sent me an article yesterday. Published in the Times of London, the article…”My husband walked out. This is what heartbreak did to my body” follows Florence Williams, a journalist and author, as she struggles after divorce. Williams was struck with Type I Diabetes in the year after her husband left her. It was her first experience with heartbreak and, being a scientific writer, she looked for a scientific solution. The two years following her divorce became a kind of experiment where she tried all manner of solutions to ease her grief.
I didn’t know Bub personally. I’d never spoken to him. I didn’t know his last name or where he lived or if he had a family. All I knew of this scruffy-bearded man in the Hoss Cartwright Stetson was the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled and tipped his brim when you drove by. The way he held the measuring rod in his hand, leaning on it like the staff of Moses, as he stood by the open manhole cover. Bub’s work brought him into the eyes of countless drivers over the years as we passed by the crew he worked with.
Being one who doesn’t care for winter, I have to look hard to find the beauty. When you find the beauty, you find the good. And when you find the GOOD, you find GOD! (Thanks for the reminder, Sue!) All around us, the world is frosted and sparkly. And even if it’s wet and grey, the stark contrasts reflect the rest we find in this season. The trees rest. The animals rest. Everything seems to rest…save for the birds.
Eighteen years ago I was having an argument with my mother. She had been sick for five days and refused to go to the hospital. She ended up dying. Sound familiar? One of my BFFs just died last month because she also refused to go to the hospital. As I lay there in the night, thinking of the similarities between the two, I was struck by how helpless I felt in both cases. I knew what was happening. I tried to tell them both what was happening. But neither one listened. They were both equally wonderful and equally stubborn women.
My son-in-law’s mom texted me yesterday. She found a really cool piece of cast iron in the shed they’re cleaning out and will hold it for me till we get there in May. This is called a Gem Pan. Our grandmas and great grandmas made Gem Cakes in these back in the day. It looks like you could also use the pan to bake individual tarts or mini quiches, as well as corn cakes.
I woke up yesterday and turned off the “sleeping” notification on my iPhone. I’ve started setting that because my phone would start buzzing as soon as others far more industrious than me were up and texting. My phone came alive with notifications, one of which was a missed phone call and subsequent voicemail. When I checked, it was a call from the scheduler for my endocrine surgeon’s office! Yes! This was a good sign.
The temps are taking a nosedive in the coming days and we commented yesterday how thrilled we are that we don’t have to go out in it. We awoke yesterday morning to the news that our fourth great-grandchild was born in the wee small hours. Another healthy baby…thank you, God! That makes four little ones now. It’s really hard not getting together like we did pre-pandemic. Some of the family vaccinates…some don’t. We don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable so we will hold off our visits till spring when we can all sit outside.
I finished the pretty “seascape” socks last night. I didn’t have a “day of knitting” like I have recently, but I did take my knitting with me to our doctor’s appointments yesterday. What is it with being this age and doctors want to see you every three months??? Hokey Smokes…it feels like we are there ALL the time. As soon as this parathyroid thing is fixed, I do not plan to be going to the doctor nearly as much as we have been. If we could have one week where we have all our appointments, then in three months do it again, that would be more convenient. But that’s not the way it works out, is it?
While I was only a Brownie Scout for one year of my life, I forever held to the tenet learned at our very first meeting…Always Be Prepared. I probably took that to the nth degree over time as I tried to imagine every possible outcome to every possible situation. I had an aunt that trained me to do that and it has been a lifelong struggle to let go of the illusion of control. We aren’t clairvoyant, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be a “good scout” and do our best to be prepared for those situations we have some control over…like stocking up with the supplies we need.
