Will You Hand Me Some Tissues, Please?

                This is my third week taking my class called “Sociology of Ageism”.  It’s been an interesting class, but I have been on an emotional roller coaster with the topics this week.  Our discussion is on assisted living and long term health care and thus I’ve been reminiscing on what health care I would have liked for my mom versus what was settled for due to the expense.

                I was in tears during the lecture as more triggers reintroduced me to some painful times during my mother’s final years and how it affected each family member not only with my mom but with one another.  Whenever my instructor asked a question, I would provide an answer in lengthy detail to share the gist of what was felt – but not everything I felt.  It wasn’t until after class that I posted a second discussion for any who happen to watch the recording.  I shared three blog post links with explanations. 

The first one that I shared was the very first post my niece had written for her blog.  She explains how she and her husband (a newlywed couple) moved in with my mom and the trials they endured.  I share a post my brother had created about the tension that had been created among my mom’s caregivers (that would be her children and grandchildren) though it is a lengthy post which I forewarned the class about.  I also threw in one of my own just to add some humor.  Three different links: sweet, depressing and perhaps a quick smile.

I am now working on my assignment for financial resources for the elderly.  We are supposed to focus on Medicare as part of the assignment.  I am learning some things but I have not been able to keep my emotions out of it for the most part.  Next week will be the last week of this class.  The time has flown.

Christmas in late April

 
          I was sitting on the couch in our front room when I heard a knock on our back door.  What the hey?  Nobody has ever used our backdoor since we’ve lived here.  I went to the backdoor.  I didn’t see anyone.  And so I opened the front door.  I saw a UPS truck.  How odd. I didn’t think we had ordered anything.  I stuck my head out the door.  The UPS man saw me and said he had left the package on the back porch.  Okay.  We’ve never had that before either.
           
            I went to the porch to find a rather large box.  At first, I couldn’t see who it was for or from. It does not help matters that one of the last NCIS shows I have watched was about a messed up individual who sought revenge on others by mailing bombs in packages.  I finally see the return name.  It belongs to Roland’s manager. Okay.  Still wondered why it was so big. I found Roland’s name on the package and left it in his office as he was not there to open it.  He and Jenna were in Roseburg.

            When they returned, I told him about the package.  A sympathy basket sent from his work as he had asked to get time off to attend his sister’s funeral.  We ended up not going.  There are no direct flights from Oregon to Puerto Rico.  We (or he) would have had to travel the country taking a tour of airports across the nation before he could get to Puerto Rico. Anywhere from 17 – 25 hours just one way.  Too much of a gamble.  Especially when the funeral turned into “just a viewing and then a cremation”. 

 

            The gift basket was a handsome size in appearance.  None of us have gourmet taste buds.  It’s the thought that counts, right?  We appreciated the thought.  For family home evening we had a taste fest.  Roland presented Jenna with a small package of Carousel Chocolate creamy caramels.  They reminded me of the tootsie rolls candies.  The Carousels were softer than tootsie.  Jenna liked that.  The texture was okay, but I prefer the tootsie roll taste.

 

            At the same time he gave Jenna the candy, he handed me a package marked Ghirardelli Chocolate Chip Cookies. I love Ghirardelli – always have.  The cookie itself reminded me of Nabisco Chip’s Ahoy.  Overall I prefer the Chips Ahoy.  He’d seen the word “chocolate”  - I don’t know what specifically he was after.  He tried one called  Lille Chocolate Cookie Thins. He compared them to flat one-sided Oreos.  We prefer Oreos. 

 

There were also some chocolate flavored quadrotti cookies and Monica’s Brownie cookies.  It reminded us of assorted cookies that come in tins at Christmas time.  

There were Cracked Peppercorn Crackers which reminded me of tiny crip flour tortillas. 

Lots of spreads including hummus (which we didn’t open as none of us are humus fans), Sonoma Jacks Garlic & Herb Cheese Wedges which Roland had passed out to eat on their own.  The garlic was strong.  I took the cheese knife (which was included in the basket) and spread it on some crackers.  Roland said the Daniele Friuli Brand Sopressata Salame would need to be refrigerated but he and Jenna would probably eat it all before it even made it to the kitchen.  I noticed this morning that it hadn’t even been opened.

There was a hot honey mix.  They weren’t kidding.  So spicy the honey could barely be tasted. Veggie Sticks put out by the Daily Crave, two fruit delights from Liberty Orchard.  Roland cut them so we could all taste the soft candy chew with the powdered sugar.  The package had said blueberry and almond.  I thought they were good but failed to recognize what I was tasting.  

top container with hot honey mix, bottom shows cookie variety

Our favorite cookie overall was coconut flavored. She didn’t seem impressed with the Zebra Popcorn which tasted like caramel corn married a candy bar.  It was overly sweet, but I liked it.  I finished it this morning.

 

There was a Napa Valley Stone Grain Mustard which I added only a tiny bit to my potato salad that I had made on Sunday.  It gave it a nice kick.  Set the onion dip mix aside.  Will try to find a new home for the hummus, coffee, and black and green olive medley.

Gift baskets are expensive.  It’s mostly packaging, too.  For inside of each box was a pouch about half the size which contained the final product.  We managed to pile all the cookies into a lidded container.  I put the hot honey mix in a smaller container.  But if we had dumped all the open contents into just one container, it would have been the size of a small to medium mixing bowl.

 

Thank you for those who work with Roland for keeping us in your thoughts.  The taste testing was fun.

Dash 278: What Would I Be?

What color best describes your personality? Sky Blue – I like to provide hope after the storms.

What kind of zoo animal would you be? a zebra – no two zebras share the same stripes exactly.  I’d like to think of myself as one of a kind

What kind of a farm animal would you be?  cow, sometimes I don’t carry my weight very well.  I’ve been known to produce milk at one time

What kind of a household pet would you be?  dog, hopefully one who is loyal

musical instrument – a kettle drum, I can be loud, I can keep rhythm.

Tool – a pen.  What can I say? I like to write. Sometimes I don’t allow myself the opportunity to erase.

If you were a Disney Character, who would you be?  Nakoma, friend of Pocahontas.  I would rather be a supporting character than that on center stage. 

Using one word, how would you describe yourself? together

Technology replaces "old school"

          The stake has been advertising a Family History Fair which was supposed to be at the end of February but was postponed until today due to the power outage that took place.  We went to the one that was offered today.  I asked Marva if she would like to go as I thought I remembered her having some interest in family history and so I facebooked her the information.  She reminded me that she and Shelly are no longer attending Church which I knew and still don’t understand after all her hunting the missionaries down and having them teach her – but whatever.

          I told her that the FHF was advertised as a community event offered to everybody regardless of faith.  It just happened to take place at the LDS stake center (a boundary name for LDS church location) as there is information available at LDS centers that are not always offered to home accounts.  The instructor I’d gone to today was explaining different icons to be clicked on and what they meant and where they would take us.  She said there are some items of information that will not even be retrieved from the LDS family center porthole but could be found at the LDS family center in Salt Lake City.

          I remember having gone to the center several times at different stages in my lifetime.  I started out as a youth, never building a passion for genealogy, but having gone to do research.  It was back in the day before personal computers.  Nothing was digital.  We copied information by hand or else paid a dime to have a legal size page photo-copied from a copier probably made by Xerox as that is the only brand name I remember being associated with copiers. 

          We kept our papers in a legal size binder.  Usually, they had extended punches to be slipped more easily into the binder (which means they could also easier slip out) or else we could loosen the screws and even change all the pages around in a different order.  

          There was a large variety of hardcovers to choose from.

          Many had pictures of temple outlines and silhouettes.  

          I could not settle on any one temple.  I chose a white book that displayed the majority of temples in existence at that time.

          I remember my Aunt Julia coming to visit for about a week or so.  We rarely saw her.  She would leave early in the morning and stay at the Genealogy Library until it closed.  How awesome it is that technology continues to bless so many lives.

I Would Rather Do Second Grade Math than Sixth Grade

                When I subbed at the middle school last week, I was asked to fill in for the aide who works with youth who have detention or in-school suspension (ISS) as they call it.  When I arrived for her shift I saw a youth waiting in the room.  I made a comment about it when I went to sign in but thought that he was just there for homework support.  I didn’t know he had reacted to a situation (someone had been teasing him – bullying him) and got physical.  It just so happened that the dean of students saw him and wrote him up.  Nothing happened to the youth who had provoked whatever it was.

                He waited at the table with questions regarding his homework in math.  Oh, no!  I have been helping out with regrouping in second-grade math.  The sixth graders more complex problems threw me off.  I couldn’t remember any of the formulas. 

                “If Hector cuts 25 logs every 15 minutes, how many logs will he have cut in 35 minutes?”  The answers are multiple choice. I look at the choices.  36, 24, 41, 58 . . . .  I really don’t remember the choices except for 58.  I had tried doing the formula but seemed to be missing a step.

                “Well, we know that 30 minutes is twice the amount of 15 and so that would mean 50 logs.  Being that there is only one answer that gives us over 50, I would say that one.  I’m sorry I can’t figure out the formula.”

                There was another that the principal showed him was similar to another he had done on another page.  But then he had two questions that were more foreign.  What????  Math is like Klingon – I suppose there are some people who understand it.  I’m just not one of them. 

                His social studies teacher came in and looked at me.  She said, “Oh, good.  It’s you.”  Another indication that this boy (I’ll call him Sean, though that is not his real name) is basically a good kid.  More than one instructor came in throughout the day to make certain Sean hadn’t been “fed to the wolves” so to speak.  I ended up with four youth at the end of the day.  Two 6^th graders and two 7^th.  None were horribly bad in my presence, but the 7^th graders engaged in conversation, folding papers, shooting crumpled paper into the garbage, looking out the window – anything that didn’t involve education or being quiet.  They’d been warned several times NOT to talk, NOT to move from their seats, AND to spend their time wisely. 

When I was relieved for lunch, I suggested to Sean to have the other aide assist him with the problems we had missed.  When I returned a third aide was trying to figure out the problems as well.  I was so happy to realize it wasn’t just me who was having a problem.  I told Sean to tell his instructor that neither his mother nor three aides could figure it out and it was, therefore, unsolvable by any human on the planet.

By the time I left the two sixth graders were doing what they were asked.  I ended up writing up the other two.  My words may have added more in-school suspension for today.   I did not work at any of the schools today.  I chose to stay home which was wise on my part as I really haven’t felt well today. I did get my assignment finished and turned in.  Next week’s subject is Medicare.

Power in the Paddle

                I have assisted with crosswalk duty three times now.  There are four safety vests available – two are orange and two are yellow.  None will fit around me enough to close.

            There are two stop signs.  The one for the street is fastened to a pole about four feet long.  The other is fastened to a short stick.  

The short one is for the parking lot.  The cars in the street don’t always move at a slow pace, but the parking lot cars are generally moving slower.  Sometimes they will stop before the crossing guard walks halfway into the crosswalk.

            I have always been in the parking lot.  I must say that I do enjoy the sensation of holding up the sign in order to get drivers to stop and wait as children and adults are given the opportunity to cross from one sidewalk to another.

Hey, You Have Your Own Computer . . . Get Off Mine!

          I added the death date of Roland’s sister to ancestry.  Shortly after I noticed there were new leave hints and clicked.  It had the marriage of somebody that may or may not be his sister.  The dates looked correct but the middle initial was not the same and I don’t believe her husband’s name was her married name.  I ignored it but showed it to Roland yesterday.  Oh, my word.  I opened an entire can of worms that I surely hadn’t expected.          

             Roland was behind me saying, “Click on this.” “Click on that.”  Really?  You’ve got your own computer, Pal.  I don’t even know how to get into his account where he has every family lumped into one.  I personally have separated his family from my own.  I have a hard time knowing if the hints on my line match those in my family line – and many of the names in my line are not the most common of names.  His family line, on the other hand, has common names.  I don’t know if they’re related or not.  

             I was journaling my work status of the last two weeks – or trying to.  I have been so tired and unfocused or else I get interrupted.  Yesterday Roland wanted me to watch “Glass” with him – which I must say looked better than the prequel I had sat through and will never get those hours back in my life.  I was not interested in watching “Glass” even if I hadn’t had at least eight other projects that would have been far more productive.

         I was finally on my last page of catching up when Roland asked if I would go to facebook to look at his post right now as he was apparently seeking validation.  That’s when I asked about his sister.  He wanted me to add her picture to the profile and had me add others as well.  He got interested in doing family history again – but on my computer.  After I left my chair to fold clothes, he moved over and looked at hints and translated the Spanish words into English – another thing that trips me.  Family History.  It doesn’t excite me really.

Dash #742 Continuing Education

          I remember my mom and I taking a class together on storybook literature.  Sadly, I don’t recall the name of the instructor but he was of German descent and had had exposure to cruel fairytales versus what he called “watered down” versions that seem traditional in America. I think there had been only  four classes as we met only once a week for only for four weeks – at least that is what I remember.  I don’t know if I recorded anything about it though Corey may have my mom’s version of what took place.

          I remember our instructor showed us several frames taken from a graphic story.  I don’t recall there being words, but if there were, he would translate the German captions into English.  The story was on obedience and minding your elders.  Peter had been warned by several adults including mom, dad, and at least one grandparent.  They had told him not to go outside for it was too cold and he would be able to dress warm enough, but Peter went outside anyway.  He walked further and further away from his home and ignored all the signs of birds that were too frozen over they could no longer fly, or other animals.

          I believe that Peter ends up falling through the ice.  Some of the adults go out to look for him and find him frozen. They take him back to the house to thaw him out.  In the last frame the illustration shows three canisters.  I forget what was in the ones on either side – perhaps vinegar and cooking oil.  The container in the middle was labled Peter – implying that Peter had thawed into liquid and that was the only means they had for preserving what was left of him.

          He had also showed us a book about Mr. Thumbsucker who would cut off the thumbs of children who continued sucking their thumbs.  The idea was to motivate children to stop sucking their thumb but the pictures seemed quite gruesome. It wasn't just the stories themselves but also the illustrations that made the German versions seem much more dark than the American hand-me-down  versions - which I am grateful for.

          I remember enjoying fairytales as a child. Then again, I think my mom was a lot more selective.  I appreciate her introducing me to fairytales as I know she didn’t like them when she was a child.  Nor do I think she enjoyed them much as an adult. I don’t think the fairytales she grew up with were as violent as our instructor’s had been.  Also, my mom didn’t seem to have a great imagination and wouldn’t believe that bears could talk or pigs could build houses. 

          In our final class we were introduced to an orange and were supposed to form a relationship with it.  Our instructor said it was often a tender moment for many of his students and when they were separated from their orange, or saw another rip it apart, some would actually cry.  Mom and I exchanged glances that we surely wouldn't be making that kind of attachment or would be able to relate to that analogy. I made a comment about two other students I could see it happen with. And it did.  They cried.  We didn’t roll our eyes, but we didn’t feel the same attachment toward our oranges as they apparently did.

          It was an interesting class.  I think mom and I both enjoyed it overall – though I seem to be sharing the bizarre parts about it.  It had been a good experience for my mom and I to have this class in common and to share our experiences.

More Homographs

Same Spelling, Different Pronunciation

The bow of a ship is the front part.  A bow is also when I put my arm in front of me and lean over it.  People take bows after they perform.  A ship's bow and an stage bow are pronounced the same.  (b-ou)
A bow that I wear in my hair is pronounced differently than the two above it.   A bow can be used as a weapon to shoot arrows.  A bow can also be used to play an instrument such as violin. (b-O)

A minute (min-it) is a measurement of time.  There are 60 minutes in one hour.  Minute (my - nUte) is something small and obscure.  The grain of sand seems minute compared to pebbles. 

You may say a person from Poland is of Polish descent.  You polish surfaces to make them shine.  Polish (pO-lish) and polish (paul -ish) are not pronounced the same.

A sow is a female pig.  To sow is to plant seeds.  Sow rhymes with bow.  Two different pronunciations. 

Homophones

Different Spelling, Same Pronunciation

When I bawl, it means I cry hard.  That bawl is a homonym and is spelled differently from all others. 

The ball of my foot is just below where toes start to spread. 

Attending a ball would be like going to a dance or gala.

A ball is a round object or toy sometimes associated with sports (as there are several types)

The term "Have a ball" means to "have fun"

And let us not forget my life as a ball found here.

Crazier Than Ever

          Since spring break, the skies

overall

have been grey and have

produced a huge amount

of water. 

The rivers are not

overflowing, but

                    definitely not

dry as they were in winter. 

The temperature has been

47 – 52 degrees on average. 

On Thursday it was up to 82. 

What is up with that?!? 

Yesterday was not

quite as warm –

maybe 10 degrees less. 

Now we are back to

rain and clouds.   

April milestones

          It’s been just a few years since I wrote this post – referring to the stages of life and changes that we hope will never come.  Yet we are tried.  We can’t control what things might happen – good or bad.  For my oldest son’s in-laws, June is a hard month.

           

          For Roland’s family it seems to be April that seasons the time line.  His mom turned 92 yesterday.  Seven years ago we’d gone to Tucson to celebrate her birthday (here).  Nine days later, Roland’s eldest sister passed.  Today we learned that another sister died this morning.  Facebook reminders of two of my boys who married their wives in April.  

      Missionary papers and homecomings in April.  Jenna was also born in April.   This is my first recorded timeline. 

Inconvenience

We had a leak in our pipes

right underneath the sink.

In order to fix it, Roland had  

to turn off the water to the

house. The water meter to

our house is not only in our

neighbor’s yard, it is in their driveway.

What’s up with that?