I did it. I made it through another day. Heck, I even got some stuff done around here too. School work was completed, boys were signed up for baseball, death certificate was faxed to some government entity, beds were changed, and the fridge cleaned out. I didn't bother to cook though. I ate ice cream for dinner instead. And now I'm listening to my new roomie sucking her finger while she sleeps. This new roommate is a snugly one, though in a different way than the one who preceded her. This new one doesn't snore and isn't nearly as hairy either. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate being woken up for a late night chat and snack (which Bill was always up for) so I might need to make some revisions to my usual schedule. Yeah. That's how it is with just about everything. Revisions.
So I thought of some things that I'm going to have to learn how to do now. I try not to think too much because one thought always leads to another thought which leads me to this really insurmountable place where I cannot fathom escaping from. But sometimes I do think and then I have to make a list. Lists are really awesome. It's also a good thing when I remember that I kind of like to be independent and learn to do new things. I have to check my oil--better remember to keep paper towels in the car for that. I have to scrub the mildew and moss off of the vinyl fence. I have to play catch with Jon (Jack throws too hard for me now) and hit ground balls to him. I'm really pretty awesome at that. I have to clean the chicken coop. I have to figure out how to clean the chimney. And the gutters. I am responsible for all toilet disasters. Do I have to keep reading Dickens to the kids at bedtime? The attic--it mocks me with its vermin and detritus. I'm afraid of that place. I will have to change an electrical socket. That's what YouTube is for, right? I will have to be a grandma by myself. But I won't have to share babies with Bill, the Baby Hog. On paperwork, I have to leave the spot that says "spouse" blank. There's plenty more. Trust me on that.
Tomorrow I'll get up. I'll throw Bill's work coat on over my nightgown, shove my bare feet into my muck boots, and make my way out to the woodshed to feed the dogs and the cat. On to the chicken coop to check how my ladies are doing after a night's sleep. Then I'll load up the wheelbarrow with half a bale of hay and head out to the field to feed the cows. I'll rub Bud's curly forehead and let Sissy lick my hand. Then I'll pause at Bill's grave and tell him about my plans for the day. I'll tell him that I miss him and walk up the hill to the house alone.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
And It All Changed.
Just like that, everything changed. Not just a few things. Everything. Really, I'm not sure that I can grasp just how different things are now. I'm not sure I even want to understand. Do I ramble? Probably.
So before I go any further, let's clear up some of the crazy rumors that have been circulating. It seems that news. good or bad, travels quickly these days with the wide usage of social media. Facebook is a great way to communicate in this modern age, but it also creates an easy opportunity for insensitive people to poke about in other's misfortune. There's nothing like using someone else's tragedy to draw attention to oneself, don't you think? My dearest Bill died on Monday, January 20th, at the hospital in Salem. That's when he took his last breath. But really, he died in my arms on Saturday, January 18th, when he suffered a fatal heart arrhythmia known as ventricular fibrillation. The wonderful paramedics and firemen from the local volunteer fire department worked so hard on Bill, trying to resuscitate him. He was, after all, only 41, and he had a wife and four children to live for. But I knew he was gone. I didn't want to know it, but I did. I didn't leave him alone in the hospital. I put my hand in his warm hand, the one I'd held so many times, and kept it there until the end. That hand that shyly held my hand for the first time when I was 16. The hand that held mine when he asked my to marry him at my apartment in Corvallis. The hand that held mine and promised to love me forever at our wedding the following year. The hand that held mine through each of our children's births (I may have squeezed it pretty hard a few times). The hand that held mine when I was sad or angry or afraid. The hand that was always there. In the car. In bed. At church. Walking. The hand that was always there. Letting go of that hand was the hardest thing I've ever done. I kissed his silent face, beard and all, and walked away into the unknown. That's what really happened.
Lots of women become widows. Some are even younger than me. I know all of this. But I am different than most. My story is different than most. We were different than most. Bill was the only real boyfriend I had. And I was the only real girlfriend that he had. We were young, sure, but we always knew something was different. We grew up together. We should have grown old together. Neither one of us was perfect but it didn't matter. Where I lacked, he had abundance. Where he needed more, I had more to give. We were perfectly suited to each other. The best compliment to the other. We were in agreement on all the big issues. We believed the same things. We were on the same path, leading the same direction. And then this happened.
You know, this is only the beginning of the story. There's much more to share, and certainly as I make more sense of it I'll share. I am comforted by the fact that Bill is more happy than I can imagine and one day I'll be with him again. I hope he'll be proud of me, proud of what I've done and how I've raised our kids. Until then, I believe that the 28 years we were together (20 of those married) were more amazing and full of love than many couples who have been married twice as long. Bill was my greatest friend and I love him more than I could even begin to explain. But you can be sure I just might try.
So before I go any further, let's clear up some of the crazy rumors that have been circulating. It seems that news. good or bad, travels quickly these days with the wide usage of social media. Facebook is a great way to communicate in this modern age, but it also creates an easy opportunity for insensitive people to poke about in other's misfortune. There's nothing like using someone else's tragedy to draw attention to oneself, don't you think? My dearest Bill died on Monday, January 20th, at the hospital in Salem. That's when he took his last breath. But really, he died in my arms on Saturday, January 18th, when he suffered a fatal heart arrhythmia known as ventricular fibrillation. The wonderful paramedics and firemen from the local volunteer fire department worked so hard on Bill, trying to resuscitate him. He was, after all, only 41, and he had a wife and four children to live for. But I knew he was gone. I didn't want to know it, but I did. I didn't leave him alone in the hospital. I put my hand in his warm hand, the one I'd held so many times, and kept it there until the end. That hand that shyly held my hand for the first time when I was 16. The hand that held mine when he asked my to marry him at my apartment in Corvallis. The hand that held mine and promised to love me forever at our wedding the following year. The hand that held mine through each of our children's births (I may have squeezed it pretty hard a few times). The hand that held mine when I was sad or angry or afraid. The hand that was always there. In the car. In bed. At church. Walking. The hand that was always there. Letting go of that hand was the hardest thing I've ever done. I kissed his silent face, beard and all, and walked away into the unknown. That's what really happened.
Lots of women become widows. Some are even younger than me. I know all of this. But I am different than most. My story is different than most. We were different than most. Bill was the only real boyfriend I had. And I was the only real girlfriend that he had. We were young, sure, but we always knew something was different. We grew up together. We should have grown old together. Neither one of us was perfect but it didn't matter. Where I lacked, he had abundance. Where he needed more, I had more to give. We were perfectly suited to each other. The best compliment to the other. We were in agreement on all the big issues. We believed the same things. We were on the same path, leading the same direction. And then this happened.
You know, this is only the beginning of the story. There's much more to share, and certainly as I make more sense of it I'll share. I am comforted by the fact that Bill is more happy than I can imagine and one day I'll be with him again. I hope he'll be proud of me, proud of what I've done and how I've raised our kids. Until then, I believe that the 28 years we were together (20 of those married) were more amazing and full of love than many couples who have been married twice as long. Bill was my greatest friend and I love him more than I could even begin to explain. But you can be sure I just might try.
Monday, October 27, 2014
Just What Are We Creating?
Something I've noticed lately, both in the scope of social media as well as instances in real life, is the over zealous practice of commenting on a girl's looks. Not just saying, "Oh, you look nice (or pretty, or cute, or whatever) today." But really going over the top with compliments that focus only on perceived beauty. Yes, yes, I know this is not a new phenomena. But for some reason it's really aggravating me lately.
See, here's the thing: focusing on a girl's looks is so shallow. It's demeaning, really. Are we suggesting that a young lady's only attribute is how she appears to others? She has no value aside from her looks? Yeah, really bugging me.
I have two daughters. Both are blessed to be beautiful girls. I believe I can make that statement with limited bias (except for Sarah's buck teeth, which she'll grow out of eventually). But, more importantly, both were blessed with so many other, much more impressive attributes. Sarah is athletic and brave. I'd much rather someone comment on these characteristics than telling her she is "a pretty little girl." And Madeline has a quiet spirit and is a gifted writer, so I'd be happier with someone complimenting her on those gifts rather than saying, "You are so pretty."
What I'm suggesting we do instead is not a new idea. In fact, I'm sure every feminist since 1960 (and most likely before that) has ridden this bandwagon down the same road. Sometimes, however, we forget what our intentions really are and we need a reminder to help us better express what we mean. I'm asking that rather than filling our girls (both young and old!) with flattering praise of their appearance, let's instead try to fill them with praise for their accomplishments and strengths. Let's celebrate their individuality and encourage with genuine, well-considered words.
Can my idea change the world? Nope. I probably can't even change a single person's mind, and wouldn't even have the desire to do such a thing. I am hoping, though, that someone might read this and remember next time to compliment on something beyond the shallowness of physical appearances and place value on something of greater importance.
See, here's the thing: focusing on a girl's looks is so shallow. It's demeaning, really. Are we suggesting that a young lady's only attribute is how she appears to others? She has no value aside from her looks? Yeah, really bugging me.
I have two daughters. Both are blessed to be beautiful girls. I believe I can make that statement with limited bias (except for Sarah's buck teeth, which she'll grow out of eventually). But, more importantly, both were blessed with so many other, much more impressive attributes. Sarah is athletic and brave. I'd much rather someone comment on these characteristics than telling her she is "a pretty little girl." And Madeline has a quiet spirit and is a gifted writer, so I'd be happier with someone complimenting her on those gifts rather than saying, "You are so pretty."
What I'm suggesting we do instead is not a new idea. In fact, I'm sure every feminist since 1960 (and most likely before that) has ridden this bandwagon down the same road. Sometimes, however, we forget what our intentions really are and we need a reminder to help us better express what we mean. I'm asking that rather than filling our girls (both young and old!) with flattering praise of their appearance, let's instead try to fill them with praise for their accomplishments and strengths. Let's celebrate their individuality and encourage with genuine, well-considered words.
Can my idea change the world? Nope. I probably can't even change a single person's mind, and wouldn't even have the desire to do such a thing. I am hoping, though, that someone might read this and remember next time to compliment on something beyond the shallowness of physical appearances and place value on something of greater importance.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Quick Hamburger Buns
This is a really simple and quick recipe that you can whip up while preparing the rest of dinner. I use my KitchenAid mixer, but you could certainly just mix and knead by hand. There is no rise time because of the large amount of yeast added. You could cut down the yeast and allow a rise time but, heck, who has time for that?!
Okay, here's the recipe:
Sprinkle 2 Tbsp. dry yeast over 1 C. + 2 Tbsp. warm water. Let this sit for a few minutes.
Stir into yeast mixture: 1/3 C. oil/melted butter/melted coconut oil, 1/4 c. sugar or honey, 1 egg, and 1 tsp. salt.
Gradually stir in 3-3 1/2 C. flour and knead until smooth and elastic.
Form into 12 balls.
Place on baking sheet and bake at 425 degrees for 8-12 minutes.
Okay, here's the recipe:
Sprinkle 2 Tbsp. dry yeast over 1 C. + 2 Tbsp. warm water. Let this sit for a few minutes.
Stir into yeast mixture: 1/3 C. oil/melted butter/melted coconut oil, 1/4 c. sugar or honey, 1 egg, and 1 tsp. salt.
Gradually stir in 3-3 1/2 C. flour and knead until smooth and elastic.
Form into 12 balls.
Place on baking sheet and bake at 425 degrees for 8-12 minutes.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Wildlife Safari
I love last minute road trips. Really, I do. After remembering that I had purchased a Groupon to Wildlife Safari last winter and that it was just about to expire, we decided Thursday morning to head out. I'm sure I haven't been there since I was 14 or 15. And then I was always so paranoid that one of the car doors would mysteriously fly open (in the lion's area) and one of us kids would fall out, that I never was really able to enjoy the drive through. Gosh, and those emus are so creepy too. Well, you know how it's important to expose your kids to your own childhood fears, right? It was time for my kids (and Bill) to pay a visit.
This bear's toy was a 55-gallon drum.
The rhino. peed. Everyone was impressed.
This emu looked like a dementor.
Creepy cheetah eyes.
Hippo butt.
Black bear chilling in his tub.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
May Breakfast
Happy Grandma Barb's birthday to you. She would have been 92 today. You can bet we'll be eating "Drumsticks" for dessert tonight!
Here's my favorite May breakfast: Strawberry shortcake.
Here's my favorite May breakfast: Strawberry shortcake.
Jon whipping the cream.
This might be our lunch too.
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Time Flies
When you're having fun. Or not. It's been a busy few months, filled with some good things as well as some not-so-good things. Let's talk about the good things first, shall we?
Lots of baseball. Games, practices, laundry. It's where we spend most of our time right now. I knit, the kids play. The weather has been kind to us this spring.
Driving practice. Crossing our fingers that Madeline will pass her driving test next week. Did you know that you have to take and pass a written exam before you can even schedule your driving test? And then you have to wait several weeks, if not months, for an opening at a DMV that offers the test. Except in Baker City. You can take your test there anytime. Really.
Madeline has started a new, "real" job. She is working at the local pharmacy. She is hoping to save up some money, travel, and take a few classes at the community college in the fall.
Planning, expanding, and planting the garden. Just about my favorite thing to do. And tossing around the idea of keeping cows. Thinking about planting new fruit trees too. I'm like a farm(ish) girl.
And now, the not-so-good stuff:
Family health issues. Bill's dad was diagnosed with cancer. (He's responding well to the treatment. So well, in fact, that his personality has reemerged, unscathed) Bill is recovering from a yet-to-be-determined illness that caused a frightening series of heart arrhythmia. Lots of tests and doctor's visits after spending several days in the hospital. This is especially hard for someone like him who has never been unwell.
Brand new plumbing in the house. Maybe this should be classified in the "good" section. It IS lovely to have fully-functioning pipes. Paying for it was, however, painful.
A misbehaving well that will probably continue to misbehave. Also not a fun way to spend money. Why can't I ever spend it on something fun or extravagant like a trip to Disneyland or a new car?! Maybe even just a new bike?
There's probably more, both good and bad, that I could share, but this gives an accurate representation of what we've been doing. I'm afraid if I give too many more "good" examples people will be crazy with jealousy to have my life. And conversely, if I give too many "bad" examples people will pity me and arrange for my transport to a "safe place."
But in the end, it's all good.
Lots of baseball. Games, practices, laundry. It's where we spend most of our time right now. I knit, the kids play. The weather has been kind to us this spring.
Driving practice. Crossing our fingers that Madeline will pass her driving test next week. Did you know that you have to take and pass a written exam before you can even schedule your driving test? And then you have to wait several weeks, if not months, for an opening at a DMV that offers the test. Except in Baker City. You can take your test there anytime. Really.
Madeline has started a new, "real" job. She is working at the local pharmacy. She is hoping to save up some money, travel, and take a few classes at the community college in the fall.
Planning, expanding, and planting the garden. Just about my favorite thing to do. And tossing around the idea of keeping cows. Thinking about planting new fruit trees too. I'm like a farm(ish) girl.
And now, the not-so-good stuff:
Family health issues. Bill's dad was diagnosed with cancer. (He's responding well to the treatment. So well, in fact, that his personality has reemerged, unscathed) Bill is recovering from a yet-to-be-determined illness that caused a frightening series of heart arrhythmia. Lots of tests and doctor's visits after spending several days in the hospital. This is especially hard for someone like him who has never been unwell.
Brand new plumbing in the house. Maybe this should be classified in the "good" section. It IS lovely to have fully-functioning pipes. Paying for it was, however, painful.
A misbehaving well that will probably continue to misbehave. Also not a fun way to spend money. Why can't I ever spend it on something fun or extravagant like a trip to Disneyland or a new car?! Maybe even just a new bike?
There's probably more, both good and bad, that I could share, but this gives an accurate representation of what we've been doing. I'm afraid if I give too many more "good" examples people will be crazy with jealousy to have my life. And conversely, if I give too many "bad" examples people will pity me and arrange for my transport to a "safe place."
But in the end, it's all good.
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