32 Pounds and 99 Cups of Blueberries

Roland and I went out

to DelEv Blueberry Farm

this morning.  We picked

32 pounds and filled 24

bags with four cups

each of blueberries.  The

25th bag had only 3 cups. 

Funny, I thought we would

run out of bags before we

ran out of blueberries.

Jenna returned home from

camp.  I will probably take

her out to the farm again

to get some more to put

in our freezer.

Roland wanted to take a

video to send to his mom.

We did not do that.  Halfway

there he asked if I had my

camera.  Unfortunately my

camera has died and my cell

phone pictures are not that great.

I wonder why Roland didn't take

pictures with his phone.

Deflation, Deception & Painful Reality Check

                I have been feeling overwhelmed with emotion since last Friday afternoon when Roland came outside to "let me know what's going on."     

            I didn't think I would ever see the day when Roland would be angry with Randy or not believe him.  My youngest son has always been a storyteller.  It started out as a form of entertainment, but gradually became a method of deception, and if he gets caught in the lie, will try to mask it with "Oh, I was just joking." 

            It has gotten old.

                Most everyone in the family had stopped trusting anything that came out of Randy's mouth.  Oh, he's got charm, charisma, so many likable qualities really, but also the gift of gab that's as easy to believe as a politician. He's got the same integrity as the second example found in this post.  

                I'm trying hard not to air dirty laundry on my blog, and yet it's something I feel I need to write about.  I just haven't found the right words of what I'd like to convey - perhaps even to myself. 

                As I mentioned in the last post, I'm taking two classes now, one in accounting and one in ethics.  Again they are connected to each other and may be connected to what is currently going on in my own personal life right now.

                When we initially moved to Oregon, we were still paying off a loan on an A/C unit we had purchased for the WV house along with a gas stove and a fridge.  The fridge we brought with us, but the gas stove was left behind as it doesn't seem to be a popular method in the areas we were looking at to house in Oregon.  And of course, the A/C had to stay with the house as it had become a part of it.

                We had made arrangements for Tony and Rochelle to rent from us - though Roland had mentioned to them time and time again that they could purchase the house.  They didn't wish to live in the neighborhood and I can't say that I blame them.  The neighborhood had started to go downhill while we lived there. Randy informs us that the situation is a lot worse now.

                Randy said he'd be willing to buy the house at cost, which I really wasn't crazy about.  I thought it should be sold so that we could pay off our loans.  But with Randy and Carrie moving in - even at a loss to us - I knew we wouldn't have to come up with two mortgages (one for Oregon and the WV house in Utah) each month should the house not sell right away.  I also knew that Randy and Carrie would take better care of it than we had and be able to sell it for more, which they did.

                 Before they moved in, Roland had asked Randy to send us some money on whatever they made whenever they sold the house.  Roland would have liked half but would settle for the loan amount.  He reminded Randy of this several times.  Nothing was put into writing.

                I honestly didn't think we'd see a dime, let alone thousands of dollars to pay off our loan.  I had stopped trusting Randy years ago.  Pretty much the entire family had.  Randy's actions seldom ever followed his words. He loves the sound of his own voice. He'd make big plans saying he was going to do this, he was going to be that.  They were just hollow words after a while. Yet, Roland continued to believe in him.  

                Don't get me wrong.  Randy has a lot of fine qualities.  When we went to Utah for Jeanie's funeral, I was impressed at how well he had been taking care of his brother.  It did my heart good to see him with his arm around Biff trying to comfort him.  He really does have a kind soul.  I don't guess integrity needs to be present to display acts of kindness.  

                He betrayed Roland's trust last Friday while Jenna and I were at our water fitness class.  Randy tried to convince Roland that it was he and Carrie that had helped us out by moving in so that we didn't go into foreclosure.  I don't know if he was trying to con Roland or perhaps he's just been deceiving for so long that he is actually believing his own stories.  

                One of the qualities I have always admired about both Roland and Randy is their ability to let things go and bounce back. But Roland hasn't let this go and he isn't bouncing back. I have never seen him look so deflated.  He has seemed to advance through stages and had wanted to get even. He has also been ignoring the phone every time Randy calls.  I can't believe I am the practical one who's doing the consoling and he is behaving like I had in the past.

                The money is not even the issue.  Well, not entirely. The true pain has been caused by the deception.  I don't know if he will ever trust Randy again. He hasn't earned my trust or respect.  I wish I could have the same relationship with my own children as my mom did with hers or my Aunt Fern has with hers or Sunny has with hers, but I don't.  I think I felt deflated at one time as well, but I'm over it.  It doesn't change my relationship.  I just don't dwell on it.

                But Roland is broken.  He wonders if something should happen to Jenna and me, who will take care of him.  He put too much stock in Randy and has now come to terms that none will be able to care for him when his independence gives out. 

                Before starting a discussion post for my ethics class, I had wondered what the difference is between ethics and integrity as they both sound similar in my mind. Integrity is the strength of one's character. It is a personal matter whereas ethics are based on moral values and encompasses more than one person. Ethics (or lack thereof) are determined within a company or nation or group of individuals and so the outcome is more widespread than the integrity of one individual.

                For my assignment, I had to have a scenario about a situation that relates to my field of major - which would be accounting.  Never having worked in accounting before, I made up a scenario, along with names of co-workers and job (I find it easier to refer to actual names than "my boss", "his boss", person A, person B, etc.)  I gave a description of my boss who is well-liked and seems honest.  I gave him the first name of my youngest son and used his middle name as the last name for my character.  I have turned in my assignment yesterday.

               

What Happened To This Month?

          I had been asked to mark attendance for choir - only I have not marked anything for four weeks now - either choir was canceled, the doors were locked, or I wasn't there.  For an entire month?

          Every fourth Sunday a class is offered to the instructors. A primary counselor reminded me of that.  It's hard to believe that four weeks have gone by.  Where am I?

           I had just finished another accounting class - suspecting that my instructor is even more bored with the class than I am.

          The one I compared to Walter and Sheldon here, has been copying and pasting her findings word for word.  I called her on it.  I don't know if anybody caught that. 

          So bored with the discussions.  It felt like reading a high school yearbook.  "Have a good summer" blah blah blah . . .  no originality whatsoever.  Are accountants not allowed to be creative?

          Today I start two new classes.  Another accounting.  Subject auditing.  Oh, joy.  It's with an instructor I had before.  His lectures will be easier to follow than some of the other instructors that I've had recently.  That'll be nice.

          My other class is in ethics - which did not appear on my original agenda of required classes.  This will be with an instructor that I have also had before.  She is the one who had to cover four centuries of history in four weeks (one century per week).

          I have my water fitness class this morning, my role as story lady, and need to take Jenna up to Roseburg for a few things before she leaves for camp tomorrow.  Today is also the day in which there will be a live lecture in each class.  It'll be a busy day for me. I'm afraid I won't be able to attend them both live. 

          June is near its end.

What Is Real?

Velveteen Rabbit has never really been my favorite story, but I do like this thought from it:

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by

side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does

it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that

happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just

to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When

you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit

by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It

takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who

break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept.

Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved

off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very

shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are

Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had

not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the

Skin Horse only smiled.

Title: The Velveteen Rabbit

Author: Margery Williams

I like the comments made on this blog.  It's great to be real

The Flies Didn't Drown - They Froze to Death

This will be my fourth year going

to South Umpqua Memorial Pool for

water fitness.  

I remember the temperature of

the water being opposite of the

air temperature in the

past two years. 

But this year has been like

river water regardless of

whether the air has been

warm or not.  

The last few times I've attended, I

never did manage to warm up - except

for yesterday. 

And that was when

I got out.

Yesterday was the first day this

year that I saw bugs in the water -

all tiny corpses floating around.

The Secret is to Bake With Cold Filling Inside

            At the top of our back hill is the cherry tree belonging to our backyard neighbors. I don't know if Bill and Cheryl planted the tree, or if it was already there when they moved in. Bill likes cherries.  Cheryl does not. 

            They told us that we could come to pick cherries whenever we wanted.

            Jenna's Easter bucket holds exactly 18 cups of cherries - though we hadn't figured that out until later. I did not get any pictures of Jenna and Roland picking them. 

            I hadn't considered posting about this at the time.

            Roland wanted to make a pie, and thus we cut or pulled cherries apart in order to get the pits out.  And Roland started on the filling (I personally would have waited until the following morning as it was quite late at night when he started) but put the filling in a container to put in the fridge and work on the pie the next day.

            The next day Roland decided that we needed an actual cheery picker and we made our purchase and picked more cherries and he made filling for another pie. 

He poured his new filling into a pie shell and suggested that we just freeze the pie filling in the fridge.  I would have rather frozen the new creation as I had used an overly large container for the first but did not wish to transfer . . . and since we had to pour out the hot mixture anyway . . . but I talked him into making two pies.  

            He put the hot pie filling into a new glass plate that we had purchased.  It almost looked lost compared to the other which was in a smaller tin and looked like pink jelly compared to the rich whole cherries.  We latticed the hot batch and covered the other.  The hot batch leaked in the oven, not because it was latticed.  I figured out that the hot had been overheated which is why it boiled over. 

            We had intended to give the other away, but part of the crust burned.  Perhaps it's only my imagination, but the one we baked using the cold feeling tastes better to me than the first. 

            We gave approximately eight cups to our neighbors who have let us pick apples and we put the remainder in the freezer.  Each bag is filled with three cups and we will need two bags for each pie.  Currently, we have enough cherries for four pies.

It's Going To Be A Scorcher Today

            I noticed when Jenna left for school on overly foggy mornings, she would return with the sun blazing in the sky.  The foggier it is in the morning, the hotter it seems to be with the afternoon sun. 

     The above picture was taken last year - I can't even see the mountains or trees right now.

          

            I think the sun will be blazing down by 2:00 this afternoon and may not cool off until after 10:00.  But you never know.

            We had wind, rain, sunshine, A/C, open doors, blankets, and shivers alternating all within the same hour.  Jenna took these amazing pictures with her tablet