Life Lessons

IF YOU GET A CHANCE, TAKE IT! IF IT CHANGES YOUR LIFE, LET IT!

Monday, April 29, 2013

Pumpkin Cookie

It's a B.D. story!  (before David)

I have told this story a million times, but I don't believe I have blogged it.  A patient came in today and asked if someone was buried next door, thus the story crept back into my head.  Let me 'splain.

My office building is located between an empty bakery (East End Bakery) and an empty lot, which was the site of Palmer's Barber Shop, where my brother Jerry would always get his hair cut, and shellacked when we were kids.  I don't know what kind of of goop Mr. Palmer used, but it stunk to high heaven.  At the edge of the sidewalk there is a foot stone. Wait, let me show you.  (ah technology)

Apparently Mr. Palmer was known as the "Mayor of East End", and no, he isn't buried there.

So let us return to the good ol' seventies.  I'm going to guess it was '75 because I wasn't in school full time yet, and I know it was fall because of the cookie later in the story.  I would have just turned five.  It was an Indian summer afternoon, and conditions were very dry.  Dry enough for a train to start a wildfire on the other side of the big highway, and that's where the trouble began.

Oh, and I guess it's important to know that I was in no way, shape, or form allowed to be next to, let alone cross highway two.  Period.

I was playing down the block at Vicki's house, and her older sister Paula (Vicki's Mom was at work.)  wanted to take the two of us across the highway to see the fire. I guess in my five year old mind it was alright to go along, because Paula was older and was with us.  Then again, my Mom was home, I should have asked her, but I knew she'd say no, so......la di da.   

On this particular day my brother Jerry was going to Palmer's for a hair cut, then we were picking up Dad from work. Way back in the day we were a one car house, like most folks, so if Mom had things to do we would all have to bring Dad to work and pick him up.  I will assume I was supposed to be home at a particular time, and when I didn't show up my Mom would have had to go looking.  Some neighbor must have seen us cross the highway, because she found me.  (insert scary music)

I have no memory of crossing the street.  I recall the smell of fire, but not the fire itself.  I was more interested in the frogs hopping away from it, and dancing around in the tall grass. It was very windy out, and there I was with my lil freckled face, dancing and twirling, pony tails bouncing, and I VIVIDLY remember whirling around to see the car pull up, and my Mother getting out.  Things are a little sketchy after that.  I'm fairly certain I got a swat.  We went to the haircut, then to the bakery and each got a cookie.  It's the cookie that always stands out for me, and usually triggers my memory of the story.  It was a hard, pumpkin shaped sugar cookie, that had those big sugar granules (orange) on it, with a raised outline of the triangle eyes, nose, and mouth. Then off to get Dad, and I'm sure we discussed it the whole way home, while I ate my cookie, which is probably why seeing those cookies always unnerves me a little. :)

You can imagine how peeved my Mother was.  First I wasn't home on time, then I disobeyed, crossed a dangerous highway, to go to see a fire...... lets just say that Tater comes by some of her ways honestly. 

When my Mother would talk about the incident she would say "Paula got spanked, Joanie got grounded for two weeks, and I got Vicki, because her Mother felt bad."  I didn't get off the hook because I was five and led astray,  I knew the rules, the end.  Ah, life with a Mother who was a former nun. 


Saturday, April 27, 2013

Hope

Hope is a thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings a tune, without the words
And never stops at all.
 
~Emiliy Dickenson
 
 
 
I have been thinking about how to write this blog for weeks.  If I am true to myself, and to my writing, I need to say something.  I have always been totally open, and brutally honest about my life and where it goes, because that was the whole point. 
 
Many spring/summer mornings I am awakened by the most annoying sparrow.  He sits in the bushes outside my bedroom window (usually at sunrise)and just sings his song at the top of his lungs.  You all know how awful this spring has been, but the last two days the temps have finally risen, and this morning I woke up to my little sparrow singing his song!  By the end of the summer I'm ready to throw a shoe out the window at him, but this morning I woke up with a smile on my face, and a smile in my heart as well. 
 
I knew it was time to write this, and I finally knew what to say.
 
Just about a year ago, I agreed to keep most of my personal life just that, personal.  I intend to honor my word, so that's where this gets a little tricky. I'm just going to talk about me.
 
When I was a kid I loved this nursery rhyme.
 
"Here I am, little jumping Joan.  When nobodies with me, I'm always alone."
 
I loved it, because it had my name in it, and I liked to jump rope.  Now it dogs my steps and haunts me, because again, I am alone. 
 
You can take 5 seconds and feel sorry for me, then that's it.  Life is so much bigger than my relationship issues, and if it's one thing I know how to do, it's stand on my own and make the best of it.
 
When I heard the sparrow singing this morning, I immediately thought of the above excerpt from my favorite poem by Emily Dickenson.  We have to have hope.  Hope that spring will finally arrive, hope that things will work themselves out, and hope that we are strong enough to deal with it when they don't go the way we wanted. 
 
This afternoon I will be spending some time with my other family, Vicki's family.  They are having a benefit for her nephew Mitch, who is fighting cancer.  Again, it's all about hope.  Here is the article on Mitch and his family.  If you're in Superior come on down, it's going to be a great time!
 
 
So what now?  I honestly don't know.  Instead of picking up my pack and choosing a path, I'm content to sit by the river and watch it flow for a bit.  I'm just going to listen to the little birds sing, and enjoy the sunshine until I have had my fill.
 
 
 
 
 


Monday, April 22, 2013

White Out

photo: Elise Meys
 



So that's what happened last Friday.  Probably the worst storm of the season, with a good fourteen inches of new HEAVY snow.  I know that some places out in the country lost power, but we were lucky in town.

I ended up using more vacation time for a snow morning.  I called at 7:15 and it went like this:

Me: Hey, it's Joanie

Doctor Snowman:  DON'T come in.  The other line is ringing, I'll call you back!

Me: Stunned silence.......  Did the roof fall in or something?  He, lover of all things snow, never says that.  It must be bad out there.

Doctor Miller did call back a bit later, the roads were really slick, so we decided that I would just come in once it started to melt.  I actually had more of an issue digging out the car than driving to work, the main roads were melted off by mid morning.  Once again I got a little stuck trying to drive out of my parking spot.  I drove forward a bit, (stuck) backed her up (stuck), then I put on my shades, buckled up, and let her rip!  Voila!  Keep the wheel straight.

My poor friend Bren, from out east, did finally make it to town.  She left her home in the early hours on Thursday morning, and did not arrive here until Friday afternoon.  The story is hilarious, especially the part where she watched her Friday evening plane take off without her. (All her things were on it.)  Hilarious that is, because it didn't happen to me.  Anyway, five of us got together on Friday night, and it was great to catch up, and hear all about her travels. 

Bren and Lisa wanted to know where the "hot spots" are in Superior.  Deb, Kelly, and I just had blank looks on our faces.  They pleaded old age, and I have no clue.  "But you go out!", insisted Bren.  "Ha," I replied. "Five o'clock happy hour on Friday nights.  I'm home in my jammies by seven thirty waiting for Shark Tank to come on."   So they started making plans for Saturday, and I told them to just let me know where they landed and I would catch up. 

I wasn't able to though, I woke up Saturday morning with a migrane, and it continued into the next day.  I did manage to pull myself together enough to meet Bren for a late breakfast on Sunday, and I'm glad I was able to do that.  It's always so nice to sit with old friends and catch up, much more so over coffee face to face, than on the computer.

We are looking at more snow today, so I wish her safe travels to the cities, and a safe flight home!  Maybe next year we'll have coffee out east, you know, where it's spring! :)



Thursday, April 18, 2013

Sigh

Yep.  It's snowing.

It looks like Christmas snow.

In hell.


I guess with everything going on in the world today this is a tiny cross to bear, but when you are sad about so many things, a little sunshine would go along way.

My friend Bren has had an excellent trip so far (sarcasm).......... she's stuck in KC as we speak. I can't wait to buy her a drink and hear the story first hand!  (If she ever really makes it up here.)

♫ Jingle Bells, we're in hell, make it go away♫

Ugh, I can hear my Mother's voice telling me to "offer it up."  *Banging head on desk*

Look for the positive.  I'm positively sick of snow. :)









Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Repeat





Yep.... Here I am again.  We are expecting another snow storm.  This time it is slated to arrive tonight and go all the way through to Friday.  Sigh....... Some folks are now talking about snow on Monday......

I blame Bren.  It's been to long since she's been home to visit, and winter decided to stay around and greet her, in a big way!  A bunch of us 1987ers are getting together this weekend, glad the snow should get here and get gone by then. 

The Goovers have been on a trip to Texas, they headed out last week right before storm number one.  They arrived home last night between storm two and three.  I'm happy they didn't miss all of it!  The warmth and sun were fun for the Goovers until temps creeped up into the nineties, because Goovers melt doncha know! ( It sure was nice to see pictures of green grass and flowers growing.)

We have a good chance of  hitting the snowiest April ever mark, but this year shouldn't reach the snowiest winter ever total, please God.  That distinction goes to the winter of '95-'96.  I was married that May on the eighteenth, and it was 72 degrees.  So there's hope.  For the weather anyway. :)

Friday, April 12, 2013

April Snow

If April showers bring May flowers, what does April snow bring??? ( I'm afraid of the answer.)

Here we are, way up nert (that isn't a spelling error, it's a WisCANsin thang.), in the final hours of a winter storm that's been going on for a bit more than 24 hours now.

This was me yesterday gearing up to make the drive to work.





If I appear less than thrilled, I was.

That look, plus several inappropriate words/phrases, were what I wore/used on my way to work, several hours late, today.   Apparently they're only plowing the main emergency routes, so I had to wait until a few cars at least went down my road so I would have a shot at driving in the ruts.  My car is about as low to the ground as you get.  I did get stuck initially, but I just channeled The Brown Eyed Man, "kept the wheels straight", and got myself going.

So you may think this is an odd spring for us, but no.  This is normal.  All the snow had melted, and wham, here we go again.  You might make the statement, "Well, that's got to be it then." No, not at all.  After the long range forecast last night on the news the anchor man told the weather man to go home. :)  We are looking at a possible ice storm Sunday, and another possible event like this later next week.

We ought to be dug out by Memorial weekend......  I have no memory of a May blizzard. (perhaps I've blocked it)







Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Pirates of Alloueze

I was working on my scrapbook this past weekend, and will shamefully admit that the page I was working on is Pablo's adoption.  Yes, I know.  That was in 2005.  With the digital camera age, and having all of the  pictures on my computer, it's really hard for me to get them physically into a book.  I do prefer looking at an actual book to looking at them online, so it's my goal to get into this project and finish it!

So anyway, tomorrow is Pablo....oh for crying out loud.... PAUL's eleventh birthday.  Here is a picture of our sweet little three year old boy, the artist formerly known as Pablo, on his adoption day. 


Sorry if that made you cry Oma. :)  These kids are growing up way to fast.

This spring Paul took a trip to Disney and his Mom sent me this picture.





Captain Pablo Sparrow, of Alloueze! 

It makes him look older, and I don't like that one bit.  You can kind of see the man he's growing into. The next thing you know he will be driving.......

He pulled a prank on me the other day, reminiscent of something his father would do, so I owe him one.  Hehehe  You wont know when, but it's coming Matey! Mua ha ha!

Looking forward to seeing you this weekend, and to catching you in some ballgames this spring/summer!

Happy Birthday Paul :) ♥ you to the moon and back and around the block!  Beware of mail that squeaks......





Saturday, April 6, 2013

Prom.... Then and Now

Tonight is prom night for the eldest Goover.  I wanted to get pics beforehand, but Ash was over at a friends house getting ready, so I told them pictures better show up on Facebook in a timely manner, or I would wander on over to the prom and take them myself.  Oh yes I would....... in my jamma pants and my sorrels.  It's a peach of a day here in the Northland.  We have rain, snow, sleet, and just a little bit of hail thrown in for good measure.  What brain trust decided early April was the best time for a prom??

So here she is.  (slow tear sliding down one cheek)

Fancy, just like Grandma. ♥
 
 
This made me think of her as a three year old, playing in the puddles in her dresses.
 
 
It still staggers me that she is sixteen.  She drives, she has played on the football team, she just made varsity soccer, has a "man friend", and is at her junior prom.  (sniff) 
 
 
Looking at her pics made me feel quite nostalgic.  Twenty seven (holy crap) years ago I went to my Junior Prom.  They held it mid May, so it was chilly, but at least there wasn't any snow.  It was a blast.  The guys all wore white tuxes, and they all had shades and squirt guns.  We all hung together as a group during the dance, and then the girls slept over at Kelli's afterwards.  We must must have gone somewhere for dinner beforehand, but I seriously can not recall where.  I was irritated because the guys were more interested in goofing around than dancing with us, but it was fun.
 
 
 
That was the worst hair of my life.  It was supposed to be ringlets and then the lady decided to brush it out.  Can you say bouffant?  Geez.
 
 
 
 
Senior prom, I have no memory of, except for it being kind of "blah."  This is Vicki and I right after the grand march.  I remember she was in love with that dress because it was straight out of  "Gone With the Wind"!  Mine was pink lace, and itchy as hell.  Much better hair though!
 
 
Ashlyn I hope you have the time of your life tonight!  To bad you have soccer practice at noon!  Love you to the moon and back, and half way around the block.  Please don't play in the puddles.
 
 
 

 

Friday, April 5, 2013

Go Go Goovers!

The Goovers slept over last Friday, and as usual we had a great time!  My favorite line of the evening came from Hannah.  We were tormenting Ash about her "man friend" as the little ones like to call him, and when we were talking about his age Hannah piped up with "He just turned 18, so he's freshly a man."  The way she said freshly, like it was some glorious thing made me laugh so hard I almost peed my pants. 







Ey yi yi.....

As you can see we colored some Easter Eggs.

We also worked on some paper plate bunnies, and then we settled in to watch "Here Comes Peter Cottontail."



The morning brought some interesting discussions.  We covered everything from adoption to menopause.  You never know what those two are going to ask/ come up with next. 

An interesting side note: Tater had no idea that CeCe was adopted.  That just goes to show you that things like prejudice/bigotry are learned behavior.  I had to explain that two white folks only make white babies, she really didn't know.  Kudos to her parents, and to all of us as a family.  All of the kids are accepted and loved, no matter what planet they came from. ;)  

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

To Teach

When I am an old lady sitting on my porch, rocking on my chair, thinking about my life, I bet that I will feel the greatest gift I was ever given was the opportunity to teach. 

This past week I have spent a lot of time thinking about teaching, the people who taught me, and what it takes to truly be a great teacher.  Did I have mentors along the way?  Just a few, but I never really thought about it until now.

My first grade teacher, Sister Janet, was always so kind and loving.  I had a rough time in the early grades, but I knew I was loved and accepted.  My third grade teacher, Miss Ness, left you with that same feeling.  My fifth/sixth grade teacher Mrs. Winek was so hip and interesting.  You could tell that she really cared about us and about what she was teaching.  She was the first teacher to encourage my writing. 

In Junior High (middle school to you younguns) the only one who really stands out to me now is Mrs. Rusch.  Probably, again, because she encouraged my writing.  School paper, writing for the telegram, poetry contests, etc.

In High School there is also only one teacher who stands out to me now as a mentor, probably the one who had the most influence on how I approached teaching later in my life, Mrs. Sweeney.  She was the choir teacher while I was in high school, but also taught English in years prior, and in the years following.  I really wish I could have had the opportunity to have had her for English, although she was a fabulous choral director.

The difference between most of my other teachers and Mrs. Sweeney was the fact that she very obviously cared about her students, not just what they were learning, but cared about them as individuals.  She gave respect and got it back ten fold.  Choir classes were huge back then, and concert choir probably had 50/60 kids in the room at once.  No assistants, just Mrs. Sweeney and all of us.  For the most part there were no discipline issues.  I think I only saw her lose her cool once, and you knew she meant business.

She didn't have children of her own, and explained very early on that she considered her students her children, and we could feel free to come to her with anything, and many did.  Most, if not all of the kids called her Ma, or Ma Sweeney.  It was normal to see her attending to three things at once, pulling a  pencil from her hair with one hand, while waiving to a student who was  shouting  "Hi Ma" through the door as they passed by the room.

I remember one particular afternoon before choir or Spartan Singers, when I was upset about some teen-age dramarama, and was just sitting in the auditorium lobby in an empty desk, staring out the window, and she walked by.  She got about three feet past me, stopped, came back and gave me a hug.  "Whatever it is, just cry.  Let it out and you'll feel better."  She was right.

Sadly, Mrs. Sweeney passed away a week ago.  Tragically it was in a house fire, and they are still trying to figure out just what happened.  There have been newspaper articles, and features on the local news about her, and about all of the lives that she touched.  I am one of those lives.  She taught me that a teacher can also be a friend, and confidant, and still be respected.  No matter how many irons she had in the fire, she was never to busy for any one of us, ever. 

I was very lucky to have had her influence in her life and have thought of her often through the years.  God Bless you, Ma Sweeney, and if they let me in the pearly gates I hope that I'm lucky enough to sing with you again! ♥
 
http://www.superiortelegram.com/event/obituary/id/76033/