TGIF (Continuing on a Theme)

Oh man, oh man.  Lessee, what did I throw out during our move?  Old magazines, burnt out candles, old perfume, old nail polish, half empty bottles, clothes that don't fit, earrings without a match (and funky necklaces I never liked), old purses, old hats and gloves, old pillows, take out menus, restaurant sauce packets, old mail, old manuals, old paperwork, birthday cards and old printed recipes I haven't made in years, lots of old cookbooks were donated.

Still to go, but not my stuff, old ties, old belts, worn out shoes, extra cords, movies not watched, cds not listened to.  On the upside, my husband cleared out 40 years of medical paperwork stored in 2 six drawer files.  That was a big job.  We borrowed my parents' shredder.  He sold or gave away a rarely used kayak, a leaf blower, ladders, duplicate books (the very expensive arty kind), pottery, chairs, etc. etc.

The escrow on the house closes today.   We got permits for the pergola we built (without permit) and the installation of the portable spa (who knew?) and the escrow had been held up until these things were completed.  And getting a building permit is no easy task.  City Hall beat our asses all to hell.  Warning: if your city requires a building permit, GET ONE.  We ended up paying a hefty fine for flouting the law.  The inspector was very nice and didn't get as picky as he could have.  We met the basic requirements.  We made several trips to the Planning Dept to get this all done.  Made drawers, took measurements up the wazoo, reviewed code to make sure we were in compliance and would get our permit signed off.  It paid off.

So we are done with the sale and much relieved.  Yesterday, after the inspection, we came to our new home and took a refreshing swim in the pool.  It was 82 degrees outside and the water felt GREAT.  I think I'm going to be spending as much time in the pool as I did in my hammock between the cedar trees in my old home.  Different and maybe actually better.

So, clean up your shit, people.  Tell me, what stops you for de-cluttering?

Wordless Wednesday

Monday Musings (on STUFF and JUNK)

People, please, I beg of you, throw your junk away! Don't be like us.  We've been sorting through crap since last Thursday when we moved.  Now we get to pay $400 to have the junk hauled away.  Old metal filing cabinets, an old bbq on wheels, rugs, electronics and sundry wires, 18 cubic feet of detritus.  I had hoped we could have cleared this stuff out over the last 3.5 years, since we knew it was there, piled high in the garage.  Alas, that didn't happen and now we are sweatin' it big time.  Shame on us.  Lazy buggers. 

This pile may be look bad, but it was only the beginning.  I am tossing all kinds of stuff that once meant something to me, to us.  I'm also giving a lot away to the SPCA Thrift Store.  I've got another load to run over there in the next couple of days.  That's stuff I can feel good about giving away.  Helping the SPCA take care of animals!

There is such a urge to acquire the newest, best thing.  We had 3 espresso makers.  For cryin' out loud.  We have dozens and dozens of frames of all sizes that we've not the space to hang them or put them on table tops.

When we moved 3.5 years ago, we cleaned out a lot.  I thought it was a huge amount.  I thought maybe we had pared down.  Nope.  So, please, even if you plan to stay in your home until they carry you out, have pity on your children and don't make them go through 50 years of stuff.

Speaking of 'the children,' how impressed are you by the nationwide March For Our Lives this weekend?  Have you seen Emma Gonzalez's speech?

Too exhausted from moving, I didn't attend any local march.  I did get to see friends' posts from different parts of the country.  It looked inspiring and I'm glad people of all ages showed up - big time - to support this student led march.  Seems as if it is always the young who have to push the old farts out of the way.  Just the way it is.  I hope this action changes lawmakers' minds, but I confess I am skeptical.  Hoping when these young people can vote they vote the rats out of office and shut down the NRA's lobby in Washington D.C.

I think the NRA is a terrorist organization.  Truly.  Look what they are doing to this country by way of bribing lawmakers.  By opposing common sense gun laws.  I have no respect for this organization, indeed, all I feel for them is deep contempt.  If I knew a way to dismantle them, I would.

Power to the people. 

TGIF

In one week we'll be in our new place.  Gulp.  So much still to do. 

So...while hubby is watching soccer on the t.v., I'm stalling on my computer!  That's how it's done, right?

I'm moved to tell a story that is well known in my family: my sister's birth in a VW Bug in 1960.  Yeah, you thought Bugs were just for getting around in, didn't you?  Who knew they were an excellent field hospital?

Mom calls dad at work to say she's in labor.  She's got 2 kids that need to be taken to the sitter while she and dad get to the hospital.  He comes home, we pile into the car and off to the sitter's we go.  I don't remember any of this, being 2.5 years old. It must've been quite a scene with mother in full-on labor in the front seat.

So dad's taking us into the sitter's house, and while he's doing this, out comes my sister and onto the floor.  When dad comes back to the car and sees what has transpired, he panics and figures the baby is dead.  She must've been crying or something, and yet his belief is that a baby born outside of a hospital is toast.  He jumps in the car and blasts off for the hospital.  He's stopped by a cop for speeding.  The cop takes one look inside and says, "Follow me."  He gets an escort.

He arrives at the front door of the hospital, runs inside to get help.  While he's doing this, mom's ob/gyn pulls up, sees the car, sees what's going on.  He jumps in the car to drive mother around to the Emergency entrance.  Dad runs out with nurses (one presumes) and the car is gone.  His wife and newborn (dead) baby are gone.   What fresh hell is this?

They figure it out, finally, and dad is reunited with his wife and very much alive baby daughter.  The doc pulls him aside and advises him to go home and hose out the car - quickly - as all that birthing blood and liquid will be a bear to get out if it's allowed to dry.  So he does.  And the neighbors are baffled: why the heck is he at home hosing out the car?

We drove that car around for several more years.  It was involved in another notorious episode in which my older sister and younger sister were settled in the car waiting for dad to come out of the house.  My older sister let go of the emergency brake (just for ducks) and the car began to roll downhill.  At the end of our street was a canyon.  Yup.  A canyon.  My older sister jumps out of the car to avoid going over the cliff and the car ran over her, which caused it to turn into a driveway just before the canyon's edge.  The story goes she did it to save our little sister.  I think she just didn't want to die.  In any case, she was relatively uninjured and the baby was safe as well.

Imagine my dad's surprise when he comes out of the house to find that damn car gone - again.  What's with this car?  What bad juju spirit is this? 

To think I could've been an only child.

Monday Musings

The long slog towards moving continues.  Yesterday we had a glorious sun filled spring-like day and so we hauled our STUFF out of the garage and into the drive way for an impromptu moving sale.  I had be griping on Face book about 'cheapskates' who wouldn't pay asking price for items.  A couple of wise friends reminded me that the whole point was to get rid of said STUFF.  Thanks to their sage advice, I was practically giving items away, and people were delighted.  We did manage to sell both road bikes!  I gave a little plastic ukulele to the two year old grandson of a man who lives down the street.  He was shy about it, but happy.  He managed to get over his fear of dogs and gave Lucy some good back rubs.  Grandpa, child and I were sitting on the warm concrete just having a good old time plucking strings and playing with the dog.  And Grandpa and I laughed and joked about what a challenge it was to stand up after a good long sit on a hard surface!

Damn, but we have some nice people living on our block.  They came out today to look and chat and catch up on our doings.  I kept asking myself why we hadn't all gotten together before this.  Our newest neighbors from next door came by and said that their 10 year old twin boys were sad that we were leaving, because we are "nice people."  Two widows down the street showed up to admire our STUFF and revealed that they have been next door neighbors for over 50 years.  They both take in young people to rent rooms.  One gal has international graduate students who stay with her a year at a time.  She loves the company, the intelligent conversations, and acts as a sounding board when the students are writing a paper or preparing for a lecture.  She bought one of our bikes so that her students wouldn't have to buy one upon arrival and then attempt to sell it when they leave.  How thoughtful is that?  She was widowed just about the time we moved in, and she has responded to her new life in a positive and healthy way.

Living next to one of the widows is a young couple with a 19 month old son.  They came by, were delightful and talkative and I sold her some kitchen items for real cheap and she was thrilled.  She inquired as to our children, and I explained we have 3 daughters and 5 grandchildren between us and she seemed genuinely impressed.   I love talking to young people.  Their grown up lives have just begun and full of energy and hope for the future.  Reminds me of when I was their age.  Now I'm the elder, and I'm looking at the long (or short) arc of a life.  I get kind of dreamy about it all.

We sold one of our cars last week, too.  Got a good price for it, and helped out a young woman whose car had been totaled and she needed a reliable vehicle to get to work.  The money will help, as we found out that our roof needs replacing.  We had a second opinion done by a trusted source.  We don't have to arrange it, but we will credit the buyer so she can have it done.  It came as a total surprise to us, as we were not informed of any roof problems 3.5 years ago!  (Not real happy with the realtor who sold us the place.)

So, escrow is a bit of a moving target, depending on completion of some inspection work.  I'll be so damn happy when this is completed.  I'd like my life back, please.

We did have a great break on Saturday night when we drove to Petaluma for a gallery opening.  A friend of ours had two photographs selected for this juried show.  We went to see all the work, and to support his efforts, and dined on really delicious pizza afterward.  I drove the 1.5 hours well prepared with good music cds, though the hubs was a little baffled by early John Prine.  JP was a musical hero of mine in my youth, and I learned many of his songs on the guitar.  So I couldn't believe the hubs had not heard of him.  I had to cut the cd short to spare my beloved, and put on the Beatles Let It Be album.  Wow, what a flashback. 

Yes, I'm feeling nostalgic these days.  How could I not?

Wordless Wednesday

Monday Musings

My grand daughter celebrated her first birthday yesterday.  My daughter contacted me on FaceTime so Steve and I could sing happy birthday with the party goers and watch Dylan figure out how to dig into a cake.  I'm so glad we have the technology where we can stay in touch this way.  It makes me feel (almost) like I was there.

Kids were running around, hyped from the trampoline and donuts, no doubt.  I think my daughter pulled this cake from the baby after she'd had a good amount.  She's not used to eating sweets.  Hope she doesn't erp all over her parents!

I'm listening to a radio program KPIG on Spotify.  KPIG is the radio station I adored when I lived in the Monterey Bay area.  Eclectic mix of country, rock, folk rock and flat out hillbilly.  Good music for packing, which is what we are doing these days.  I'm starting with the closets, as they are usually the last thing that get packed, and it's always such a scramble at the end.

I have no idea when escrow closes.  Hoping to find out today from the realtor.  When we moved into our home 3.5 years ago, I thought we had done a good job of purging, and I suppose we did, but purge again is what is going down.  A poster of Hillary I've never even looked at?  Toss.  Yes, history, but how many other people are going to have this history in their drawers?  I did same a campaign button of hers.  ("Today" from Jefferson Airplane just came on. Wow.)

I've been thrown off my vegan diet somewhat just because of the chaos and upheaval.  Yesterday I had half of an italian meat sandwich.  It was good but my stomach suffered for it.  I'll get back on track.  My blood sugars are up due to the stress of everything.  So much for my excitement at getting them much lower in the last several weeks.  Again, when the stress is over, my sugars will come down.  It still amazes me, 25 years later, what a direct line there is between stress and sugars.  Wish it weren't so.  Makes me feel a tad fragile.  Ick.

(Grateful Dead, Jack Straw on now...see what I mean?)

I very much look forward to normalization, and soon.  Until, I keep keepin' on.  I'm so thankful that my husband can find the humor during these crazy days.  Lots of laughing going on in our home.  Hysterical laughter, but laughter nonetheless.

So it goes.

Gack

Can I just say how shitty it is when your elderly parents are in crisis and you have to jump in and coordinate care for them, schedule doc appts., clean their home and do their laundry and make their meals?  I know many of you have gone through this yourself. 

How can this mess be managed in a better way?  I have no answers.  I just want some social services support to do the heavy lifting. 

My dad's heart is giving out.  He can no longer to the physical work of caring for mom.  This is difficult for so many reasons, the main one being that he has been "in charge" for decades and has trouble letting anyone else be in charge.  He was scared enough after his hospital stay to accept in home support and care for mother.  Even someone to be there overnight to help mother to the bathroom.  That's BIG for my dad.

They have health insurance to cover this care.  They planned ahead.  They have resources to pay for caregivers even if they didn't have insurance.  Smart and lucky.

I love them so much, and have been very worried about dad dying.  My husband is concerned about my health when I am helping them and wants me to back away now that we've arranged for caregivers.  He's right.  After spending the entire weekend plus taking care of mom, my blood sugars and sky high and I feel like road kill.

And there are people all over the land who are doing the same, and more, for their elderly parents.  For their disabled children, or other relative.  I'm not made of very sturdy stuff, me thinks.  I'm laid low by the tasks demanded of me.  I don't know how anybody does it.

In the middle of all of this, we sold our beautiful home on Sunday.  It went on the market Thursday.  We are now able to move to University Retirement Community (URC).  I'm thinking of renaming it Universal Rastafarian Consciousness.  Better than "Old Folks Home" or "The Home" or whatever.  Better, I suppose than some names for care facilities, like "Sunset Villas" or "The Last Fucking Place You Will Ever Live."

I cannot comprehend living in one place for the next couple of decades.  It will be a wholly new experience for me.  No doubt I will encounter myself again and again while there, coming to terms with this arrangement.  No doubt I shall share my experience with you, dear Reader.  Hopefully, and almost certainly, I will find abundant humor in my situation.

Please stay tuned....

The Ancestors - final chapter of Aunt Lois' Accounts

Neither the children nor I had been near a railroad nor a store since we went out in April of 1914.  When Clyde got home he felt somewhat better.

Clyde's uncle and aunt, both dentist in Sioux City had urged me to come to them to have my dental work done.  Aunt Clara did children.  I was all ready when Clyde got home, so he took Mildred and me to the train right away.  Uncle Will did my work and I spent two or three hours every day in his dental chair.  They were taking care of their two little grandchildren, so had a good baby sitter who also took care of Mildred while I had to leave for my appointments.  It was very hot in the city, but after dinner Uncle Will took us all for a ride in his big Cadillac to cool off.  Both he and Aunt Clara were just wonderful to me and my baby, but as soon as my work was finished I felt that I must go down to Kansas and get Ruth and Richard and take them home.

The children were so glad to see me -- they had never been away from us for so long and seemed to me to have grown in the month that they had been with their grandparents.

Grandpa Decided to go home with me, which was a pleasant surprise.  Clyde had been lonesome while we were gone and didn't seem at all well.  He and his father did a lot of talking and I knew they were discussing perhaps selling our home, cattle and all.  It had taken so much work and planning to get where we were that I could hardly bear to think of leaving it now.  But our country was into the war, and beef cattle were higher now than they ever had been.  We had several offers for our section as soon as people heard that we were thinking of selling.

That fall is kind of a blur to me.  I think that when one survives something that hurts badly, he or she tends to try to forget.  That place had meant our own home and independence to me and I loved it.  First we sold the cattle, then the horses.  I so hated to see the little grey team that Clyde bought the year before we were married, leave the place.  They seemed to know they were leaving when I went out to tell them good-bye.  Clyde hated to part with Chap, his good saddle horse.  We even sold our house goods.   But we did keep Beauty.  Clyde crated her and shipped her, express, to his father, who was to care for her until we got back home.  I don't like to remember how I felt, leaving that place in the Grant car that Clyde had bought.  We stopped at Grand Island for a day or so to visit the Corls and Rosses, who were busy with their new "Basket Grocery Stores."  I bought a few clothes while there and we went to our first good picture show -- "The Birth of a Nation."

I had decided to go back to Illinois to visit my parents and sister who had recently moved back there.  It was really like going home to me, for I had spent my grade school years in a suburb of Peoria, Illinois.  My folks were on a farm across the Illinois river from Peoria and my sister and her family in the little town of Washington, 10 miles east.

The Breakup of the Family

Clyde was tired and thin when we got back to Kansas, but seemed happy to be home where he was born and raised.  I went to visit my family very soon after returning to Kansas; Ruth went to the country school for a few weeks and got sort of regulated.  The teacher put her in the fifth grade and she did very well.  Her teacher thought she was a very bright little girl -- she was so interested in everything.

The new home in Marysville

Clyde came back at Christmas time to take us back home.  Oscar (Tara's note: my great grandfather, paternal side) and his family had moved to Marysville so there was an empty house for us. We had left the best of our furniture stored in the barn loft when we went out to the homestead so we didn't have to buy everything.  Clyde was much better and had promised his father that he would stay to him until they got the new house built that Grandma had wanted for so long.  It hadn't been very noticeable but as spring came on and the work on the new house was begun, Grandpa didn't seem as well as usual.  He tried to cover it up -- a mean cough had developed and he got tired so easily.  He was only 60 years old and had never been sick and wouldn't acknowledge that he was sick until the middle of the summer.  Clyde's sister had come home from her music teaching in Chicago to help plan the house and influenced her parents to build a much more elaborate house than they needed.  When it was finished Grandpa was much too ill to enjoy it.  He died two weeks after they moved in.  It was a hard blow to the family.  Pearle had a floral piece made for the funeral that symbolized the effect it had on the family.  It was in the form of a wheel with spokes but no hub in the center.

First Grandma decided to go home with Myra, the older half-sister of the other three.  Then Pearle went down to Kansas University to take a years work that she expected to use.  Oscar hadn't done too well with his garage in Marysville and decided to go to California where Ada's parents and sister had settled.  It left us to take care of the home and stock until the family members had time to decide what they wanted to do.  It really took two years, but they finally made up their minds to sell everything and each go his own way.

Clyde also had the automobile bug and wanted to try his hand at working on them.  I have always thought the the automobile ruined two well-trained farmers and stock men.  Neither one of them were geared to the tough competition of the city.  They had grown up in a sharing, uncompetitive life among relatives and friends.

We moved to Sioux City, Iowa, and Clyde went to work for a big Dodge dealer.  He handled men well and always was made foreman wherever he worked.

********
Clyde Ray Tilley
Graveside service for Clyde Ray Tilley, a resident of Portland for the past 40 years, will be at 1 p.m. Monday in Lincoln Memorial Park.  Mr. Tilley, born October 8, 1884, in Frankfort, and died June 17 in a local hospital.  He was retired from Billingsley Pontiac Co., where he had been body shop manager.

Lois Elizabeth Tilley
Born January 20, 1890 in Peoria, Illinois, was one of four children of Arthur and Nellie Patee.  The family moved to a farm in Kansas about 1896.  At 17 years of age Lois attended Teacher's Institute and for a year taught in a one room school house before marrying Cyde Tilley, the son of a neighboring farmer.

In 1914 they set out with two small children for a great and challenging adventure as homesteaders -- a rich source of many stories she wrote in later years.  They stayed for four years, one year more than required to prove their claim.

By 1922 there were four children, Ruth, Richard, Mildred and Frances.  They moved to Iowa, New Mexico, and finally to the Pacific Northwest where they remained.

Lois died January 10, 1987 and is survived by a son, Richard, and a daughter, Francis.  She was a loving grandmother of nine, great grandmother of thirteen and great-great grandmother of two.

TGIF

What a difference a week makes!  An apartment came open for us and we have put our home on the market.  (Head spin)  The apartment is - gulp - across the hall from my parents.  It is a stop-gap move just until the floor plan we want comes open.  We've put in our bid for a corner place so we can have more natural light and two patios.  Those are highly desirable and limited, so by moving in, we move to the top of the wait list for one.

I had a good conversation with my folks about boundaries and avoiding conflicts (you know how it is when you're too close).  They are on the same page as us, and they want us to forge our own friendships among residents.  We'll have the occasional meal with them, but not required on a regular basis.

THIS IS JUST SO WEIRD.  Never would I have thought to move into a retirement community at age 60, but it makes so much sense in many ways, that we are forging ahead.  I'd be lying if I said it is not stressful: my blood sugars are up and I'm have respiratory problems.  We just have so much to do.  We must dispose of many items, some by yard sale, others by Internet sites.  It'll get done, I know.  I'm trying to not spin out, to stay present, but jeez Louise this is going to take some doing.

After all, this stress is better than the stress of being a homeless lady, right?  Too right.

Here's to new adventures with the man I love!  I feel lucky to have him in my life and he is most understanding about my current stress level.  He's feeling stress, too, he just doesn't have a panic disorder like I do.

We'll get 'er done, folks, yes we will.

Wordless Wednesday