Hello Welfare Square

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I like Welfare Square.  It's inviting.  The atmosphere is pleasant.  The structure is appealing.

 Last year I tried fitting the cannery into my schedule – volunteering once a week or twice a month.  I’d work from 11:00 to 2:30 – fit great into my schedule as I was free to drop Jenna off in the morning and get home before she was dropped off. 

The hours have changed.  Now is 11:30 to 3:00 and Jenna is no longer getting dropped but I have to go and pick her up.   Going from the cannery to her school in twenty minutes is really pushing it (especially now that the construction is starting it’s way into monopolizing the road).  So I will have to find another method for volunteer hours.

I prefer the consistency of the dairy, pasta plant and cannery as opposed to the inconsistency of the storehouse or the DI – though I have had some fun jobs at the  DI (Deseret Industries) I’ve also wasted trips driving to designated locations (I’m actually not close to any of it)  deseretindustries.lds.org and have recently learned that I’ll need a work order from my bishop in order to volunteer at DI.  But I want to feel useful – not something mundane.  I can do that at home.

Jenna’s school is testing these next two weeks and then they will play until school lets out – so I haven’t been putting in much time at the school either.  And as I’m no longer on a set schedule with mom I feel like I can give more of my time – well this month anyway.  I’ve never done much with volunteer work while Jenna’s home for the summer.  Maybe I’ll just wait until school starts back up again before I start in with my pathetic dedication.

visit Welfare square at: http://www.lds.org/locations/temple-square-salt-lake-city-welfare-square

The Bread Box and the Coveted Cowboy Cup

After the pathetic attempt of a yard sale, I loaded the trunk of my car with a few items that hadn’t sold.  Two of the items I brought home with me were: the practical bread box and the fun cup full of memories.

When I was younger, I remember getting bread out of a white tin box with copper trim.  The box could hold up to four loaves and then some. 

Mom also had two canisters that held sugar and flour.  I don’t know if the three came together, or if it was just coincidental that there was a very similar appearance.

I don’t remember what happened to the tin bread box, but I remember it had to be replaced.  I remember mom and I had to hunt hard to find one – and then the only ones we could find were less than half the size and made out of wood.  This one holds only two loaves at best.

The bread box is quite a practical item for me as we live in this cracker box house in which all the furniture and appliances are squashed together.  Our back door does not open all the way because the dryer is in the way, next to that is the washer, next to that is the stove.  Our loaf of bread seems to move from counter to stovetop to table to washer – it really needs a more stable home.  (I hope the breadbox will be able to stay put)

I took the cup to give to Jenna and hoped she would find as much pleasure as Ellen and Kimball had.

The cup itself is not all that special, but the memories are.  The cup is plastic coated with silver and the initials WJW are engraved in fancy letters.  I don’t know if at one time it belonged to someone with those initials or if that was the manufacturing company or what.  I have no idea where it came from or why it was in my mom’s cupboard.

The bottom was clear – and so you could see the consumer’s face as he/she drinks – and likewise the drinker can see you.  I don’t know who it was that told us (maybe it was my mom) that the reason why it had a clear bottom is so that the cowboys who were playing cards could spy on their opponents while they drank.  Patrick and Sunny’s oldest two thought that was the coolest thing ever. 

I remember my mom and I had hunted around to find at least one other “cowboy cup” so that each child would have his/her own.  Alas, we searched in vain.  If we did come close, the price was just too outrageous.  So Kimball and Ellen took turns using it.

Jenna’s enthusiasm isn’t near what was expressed with Ellen and Kimball.  Never has been.  But we still have Anna and Garrett to explore the wonders of this “cool cup” - and watching the excitement on the faces of my dad’s posterity is mainly why I took it.  Because the memories of the cup far outweigh the bread box. 

We’re Just Not Yard Sell People

There are a handful of certain people who somehow feel magnetized to drive to yard sales – some spend their entire weekends exploring through junk and treasures and actually driving from yard sale to yard sale – not me. 

Oh, sure.  When I was a kid it was different.  I felt so grown up walking away with treasures from various neighbors’ yards.  But now?  Unless we’re looking for something specific and happen to be passing the yard sell anyway . . . junk.  Lots and lots of junk.  The same you can buy at the second hand store.  Yard sales wear me down.  And today was no exception.

Normally my sibs and I don’t hold yard sales.  Items are donated, thrown out, or given away.  Yard sales are too much work – and you end up donating or throwing away everything that’s left – which in our case was most of it.  Patrick was really dreading that part – but I told him he didn’t have to take it to a donation center himself.  We had enough in the driveway that someone would pick it up – oooo – but not on the weekend.  It felt like we returned more things to the house than what we carried out.  How is that even possible?

Sunny gave me a bag of floppy discs that I will try to go through.  Turns out most of them were mine - or half anyway.  And I had already copied the pictures.  Not all floppies could be opened. I ended up copying what I could and discarding all the floppies.  Are those considered antiques?

We had two gentlemen arrive at the same time – both well over 70.  One pointed to the empty reel/film canister and said, “I bet most people won’t even know what that is.”

My nine year old didn’t.  But then I didn’t recognize the film splicer to be what it was.  I really felt foolish when I asked Patrick about it because I have worked with film splicers before – for two different companies.  Silly me.

And Bob – who Corey has mentioned in at least four of his posts held up a porcelain one-piece nativity of Joseph, Mary and baby Jesus in a manger and asked the price (I had decided that all large knickknacks, statuettes, porcelain things would be 75 cents and the smaller ones would go for a quarter.  Wasn’t enough. 

“Two dollars?” I said wondering if he still thought it worth more.  He gave us a twenty dollar bill and would not accept change.

It was very sweet of him to donate to the cause – as he really didn’t have the need for the statue as I had to explain two or three times what it was. 

We sold most of the larger glass dishware and all of the tacky things. We sold items that I had never even seen before – some that were still in their original boxes and I suspect had never even been open.

The proceeds are going towards mom’s needs.  Not enough to pay even a week of her stay, but perhaps enough that Patrick can give some money to both Kayla and I when she runs out of medication or her bras where out or something like that.  Pocket change . . .  

Mostly it was just Patrick and I who were out there.  Sunny was keeping Jenna entertained and Kayla and Bill had gone with his family.  Roland's oldest sister seemed like the type who would spend all day driving around from one yard sell to another.  His family loves flea markets and second hand stores.

We’re not yard sale people.  I don’t know if Patrick or Kayla has ever even purchased yard sell items before.  I have.  Roland has.  Yard sale treasures that were junk put out by somebody else becomes recycled again. There were some ceramic fish on the table that I remember buying at another yard sale just up the street almost forty years ago.

Sometimes what's one man's junk is another man's treasure and sometimes what's one man's junk is always junk.

If You Leave Your Note Book Out – It Becomes Up For Grabs

I was raised in a household in which we respected not only one another – but property belonging to someone else.  We’d always ask one another if we could borrow or have – we didn’t just take and keep or disregard without considering the emotions of another.

Roland has always grabbed at envelopes or statements or even receipts – if there is a blank space he would document information from the caller – and leave it.  I at least make the effort to transfer the information rather than telephone my spouse and expect miracles to happen as I describe the notes I took and the possible appearance of what it might have been written on.

Today his “note” detail much more space than even a totally blank envelope will provide.  If I should leave out a notebook which I have written, be it journaling, lesson preparation, or whatever, he ignores the fact that the notebook may belong to somebody else and starts in at exactly where I left off.  What?!?

Randy at least has the decency to turn the page – problem is he has a college algebra class and uses up several pages for just one problem.  Give me a break!  Not fond of that algebra.  But then neither is he.

It isn’t just the notebook –it’s whatever happens to be lying around or - in Jenna’s case – just happens to exist.  Who cares if you had to open a drawer or cupboard and move things around just to get to it?  Pencils? Pens?  Once they enter our house, they are good as forever vanished. It is best that one NOT develop an attachment to anything as most items that come into our house grow legs and walk away or are forever hiding.

Edible things may be marked with names – but if they are kept in a public place (like the refrigerator) it is still up for grabs.  Tony is the only one of my three boys who ever asked if he could have different foods – but that was just while I was at home.  But Randy has always overlooked any personal belongings and still helps himself to whatever (and he doesn’t even live here anymore)

How nice it would be to experience the same respect that I grew up with.

This post is contribution from Jenna

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Normally she doesn’t like poetry – or at least hasn’t seemed to enjoy it in the past, but as we were coming home from school yesterday she read me one of her poems and made up some more on the way home.  I made her write them down so that I could post them to my blog. (I am correcting spelling and adding punctuation)

Owls

Owls Owls fly around

Owls Owls say “Hooo” – that’s how they sound

Owls Owls have big eyes

Owls Owls these aren’t lies

Cars

Cars drive

         Up and down

All around town

Homework

Homework is such a bore

We always have more

We’d rather relax on the shore

Or eat an apple core.

Jenna created and wore this costume to school today for a program

Nice Going, Mother Nature!

Many mornings

After Roland has gone to work

I’ll open the bathroom window

Because I am hot

I‘ll leave the window open all day

And Roland will close it

After I fall asleep

Because he is cold

When we went to

Aunt Neone’s funeral last year

It was cool jacket weather

At least in Salt Lake City

Where the funeral was held

But the burial was in another county

Where it was cold

And snowing a theatre snow.

The snow itself did not seem real

But we all could have used coats.

Monday was hot.  Roland had left

The window open and the fan was on

I don’t even think he was covered entirely

With blankets as he usually is

And yesterday was overcast and cool

Last night it snowed.  That weird theater snow

It feels like Styrofoam.  It isn’t cold.

But the air is.  I can’t believe how hot I’ve been

And how cold it is right now.

I personally would rather have the cold

The theatre snow, the grey.

I do like sunshine for the light.  But not the blaring heat.

After Roland goes to work, I’m turning the heat off.

                                                                     taken at 7:00 am

Jumping: It Does her Body Good

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Jenna LOVES to jump. I believe she was jumping before she was walking – though she always had assistance.  I remember my mom watching my arms moving up and down at a rapid pace and commenting that I might be going to fast.

“It isn’t me!” I would say, “Jenna’s the one who’s jumping”

When the library did a theme on superheroes and allowed the children to make capes and personalize it with initials.  We chose JJ for Jumping Jenna.

 There was a trampoline in my mom’s yard and a trampoline in Patrick’s yard.  And Jenna thought that was one of the coolest devices that she has ever enjoyed.  She could bounce just like a ball.  And her smile was always pure joy.  Jenna loved the trampoline.

  The trampoline that was in my mom’s yard had been purchased by mom and dad and Patrick.  It was a gift to all of us – even though Patrick had paid I think half.  The frame has seen many tarps and sets of springs over the years, as each of us spent countless hours as kids and then Patrick’s kids and then my own.  I think the trampoline that was in Patrick’s yard had been purchased by all four of his kids – or at least the two oldest.

I would have loved to get Jenna her own trampoline after we moved.  The closest we came was a mini trampoline that was given to us by a neighbor who had cleaned out her garage.  It soooo wasn’t the same.  She could jump on the ground higher than she could on the mini tramp.  It was a ploy – and not satisfying at all – though she did attempt to gratify her desires.  The older she got, the less gratifying it became.

I would have loved putting that joyful smile on her face and set up a trampoline for her, but we couldn’t afford it.  We had just lost our house.  Heck, we couldn’t even afford a used pogo stick. She couldn’t enjoy the trampoline at my mom’s house because even though the frame still stood, the tarp had been removed. And we usually didn’t have the appropriate strength for setting it up ourselves.

After we put mom in assisted living and were getting ready to put the house on the market, Patrick sent out a mass e-mail asking if any of us would like the trampoline.  I was so happy to get Roland to agree that it would be a good idea for us to bring it to our backyard to live.  A human friend would be much better, but a trampoline seems to be the next best thing.  I just hope Jenna doesn’t become bored with it.