Perhaps I Have Contributed to Her Happiness After All

         Before Jenna was born I started keeping a journal for her – writing it in first person as though she were writing it – guessing what she was thinking.  I ended up with 10 volumes from 2004 – 2013.  I had stopped printing pages the year that my mom passed.  I continued with scrapbook pages left in the computer and flash drives and continued our first year in Oregon, but then allowed her to take over - which she has discontinued.

Anyway, we have been rereading through her books during this pandemic.  I appreciate having recorded what I did as there is much I have forgotten.  I remember myself having been uptight all of the time – but perhaps not as often as I had believed.  I had always felt blessed with such a happy girl and wanted to help her stay that way – trying hard to stay positive though not always successful and it shows in my writing particularly when her sisters would visit.

I was not so much against her sisters as I was their deranged mother who brought Satan into our lives. I unfortunately accepted his influence and allowed myself to be angry and sad.  At first it was Frances who wanted to be there and Pamprin didn’t want anything to do with us.  I thought of her as a spoiled brat.  Eventually the roles were reversed.  Frances seemed to have given up on life and Pamprin seemed to not like to be with her mother and sister but had asked Roland to pick her up – which I would not have believed if I hadn’t recorded it.  When Jenna was newly born I did not like Pamprin to be around her but when Frances was no longer in the picture, I thought that Pamprin was really cute with Jenna.

Jenna and I enjoyed taking walks.  I’d push her in the stroller or pull her in the wagon until she decided that she could just walk on her own.  The first neighborhood we lived in was loaded with sidewalks.  I have always preferred walking to driving and sidewalks made it easy.

We walked everywhere.  To the store, to the gas station, the school and even to the library – and that was on the other side of a busy street.  It amazes me that we crossed it on foot all the many times that we did.

Jenna loved to explore – still does – and I allowed her to explore in yards of neighbors and taught her to be respectful and had even assisted with discoveries.  I was never in a hurry and so allowed her to take her time.

Jenna had gone to the local elementary school for two and a half years.  Two years of pre-school and half a year of kindergarten. From where we lived South Kearns Elementary was less than a ten minute walk for one who just walked and did not stop to smell every flower, pose with statues, stop for every fire hydrant, and observe snails and other critters.  We always left the house at least a half hour early as it always took more than twenty minutes to get there.  The return home always took more than thirty.

Jenna had a friend whose mom had asked if I could watch her child between when school ended until she came home from work.  Thus I would pick up two girls from kindergarten.  Jenna and Kas had not been friends prior – even when the school year started and I would walk both of them to our house – both sulky because neither one wanted to associate with the other but in time they did become friends who did better with one another on the walk home than at our house.

Kas was high maintenance which nobody (including her mom) could understand.  I had never met another five-year-old that was that pristine.  Everything had to match and be in order.  Jenna had more important things to care about and it was obvious that clothes were not a high priority in her life.

One time we were walking towards our house and the wind was blowing. Both Jenna and Kas pretended that it was blowing so hard that it would send them backward.  I don’t think it took us two hours to get home that day though I do know it was more than forty minutes.  Kas’ mom must have left work early that day for when we finally made it home she was parked in the driveway.  Both Kas and Jenna seemed miffed with me as “I hadn’t allowed them enough time to play together.”  Oh, they had been playing the entire time!  I wasn’t the one that told them to walk backwards and in the direction the wind carried the leaves.

We moved that year to a less developed neighborhood where sidewalks were almost non-existent.  We often walked in the middle of the street as we aimlessly moved through the neighborhood rarely without a destination.  We could walk to the church and trailer park.  No shops within walking distance though we did walk to the gas station on occasion.  Jenna rode the bus to school.

When first grade started Jenna was attending another school – one that I had to drive to.  I would drop her off each morning and return for her in first grade.  I was left alone in the parking lot as I waited for her to cross the field with her friend Isaac.  They were always the last two – never in a hurry.  Fortunately, neither was I.  I enjoyed the solitude of being the only one left in the parking lot.  We were both happy and at peace.

By second grade we were carpooling.  I would pick her classmate up in the morning and his mom would pick them up after school which worked out well for all of us except Jenna because her classmate’s mom was always in a hurry and Jenna wasn’t able to dawdle for more than a year.  But her classmate moved and I was responsible for getting Jenna after school. Sometimes I was in a hurry because I was also dealing with my mom who had dementia.

I think by allowing Jenna to explore and not being in a hurry, I have contributed to her happiness.  Some parents deprive their children from being children by saying “don’t” and “no” more often than they say, “yes” “take your time”. 

Rescuing Penelope Junior

 

         Roland enjoys watching educational programming mostly to get ideas on how he might do things.  One of the programs he watches is Homestead Rescue.  We recently watched an episode called Under Siege (here) in which the Raneys go to Montana to help a couple that seem quite resistant (I personally would have just told them to forget it – but Raneys apparently have more compassion than I do).  The couple say they want free range pigs.  However their pigs have torn up the property in the process and the piglets don’t survive. 

I was reminded of that show this morning when one of the younger pigs escaped into our yard again.  This time it was just the spotted one who did not have his companions with him (I’m guessing he’s a teenager who doesn’t do well with restrictions).  The pig is not our responsibility, but at the same time Jenna believes it is her calling to make certain the pig at least stays in our yard – which he did not today.  We called, texted, left messages and Jenna followed the pig from yard to yard until it decided to turn back and head toward ours.

Meanwhile the owners got the message and sent their oldest son into our side of the yard.  Poor kid.  He was still in his pajamas.  Jenna took a huge amount of pictures and laughed as she watched the son chase the pigs and feeling frustration.  Neither Jenna nor Karl were wearing the proper shoes for climbing hills or pig chasing.  Karl’s dad assured us that the pig would be easy to catch.  I think that is why Jenna was laughing so hard.  We don’t know the pig’s name but have dubbed it Penelope Jr. as it looks much like its mom. (Jenna does know the names of the four adult pigs but none of the three teenagers or the three baby piglets who look like they'd have an easier time escaping)

Crawling through the fence from their yard to ours is evidently not a challenge, but returning is as it is uphill and the bricks are in the way and have not been completely knocked out but could be soon.  Jenna took a picture of the pig finally being caught – scooped up in a net.  

Hilarious . . . but not.

Update

 Jenna found the pineapple mask had dropped between the passenger seat and shift stick.  I'm happy to know that I didn't contribute to the parking lot litter after all.

I Lost My Mask in the Winco Parking Lot

Just beyond exit 103 is a Winco warehouse but it is over 45 miles from there to the nearest Winco store, thus we do tend to go there often but would make it our primary store if it was as near to us as the warehouse.  It appears that before yesterday the last time we had gone to Winco was in December.

            I had worn a pineapple mask that I had made for Jenna – or at least with her in mind.  We had gone to Riddle the end of last month to participate in a youth activity.  They were painting jeans and I had been invited to paint also as the turn-out was a lower count than the art supplies.

            I had painted a pineapple on denim fabric.  While I waited for it to dry, I retrieved a plain white cotton mask from the car and pressed it over the pineapple painting to create a mirror image.  Jenna and I had both worn the mask for in-and-out stops but had left the mask in the car.  I had planned to bring the mask inside yesterday and wash it.

            But something devastating happened while we were in Grants Pass.  I had removed the mask from my face when we were in the Winco parking lot.  Jenna and I each had masks dangling from our ears.  Mine must have fallen off and I did not notice it until more than 20 miles later. This is very sad for two reasons:  it was a mask that I had decorated with Jenna in mind but I think more devastating was the fact that I had littered unintentionally.  My mask became a discarded item that I have seen litter so many other parking lots and that makes me sad.   

 

Sensitive to Light

 

I get sinus infections when the air is dry or polluted.  In addition I also have an eye disorder called Keratoconus.  According to Mayo Clinic it is the clear dome-shaped front surface of the eye that thins and gradually bulges.  Corey has the same disease.  I remember him showing off his eyes to various family members one Christmas.  We couldn’t see it by looking directly at him but if we looked to him at the side, we could see the eye bulging out  perhaps not as exaggerated as it appears in cartoons but that is what it reminded me of. 

    Walt Disney's Roger Rabbit

 It is said that correction may occur with glasses or soft contact lenses. It had been strongly Corey to wear contacts, but I don’t think he ever felt comfortable with them.  He was able to get a cornea transplant, but I cannot.  My eyes are a weird shape  and not designed for laser surgery to work properly.  I don’t think it is needed.  However I have noticed with the last week or so my eyes somehow seem more sensitive to light – which is a condition found with some patients who have Keratoconus.  Corey did not start his light sensitivity until after his operation – and though his sight has improved, there are many times he needs his sunglasses in order to protect his sensitive eye. 

Corey had his eye surgery done in Salt Lake City.  After the cornea has been sewn on and has had time to adjust to the new eye the stitches need to be removed just a few at a time until they are all out.  Corey said he would need to return to Bakersfield to do a show.  His doctor told him that he had a colleague in Bakersfield and had given him the address which just so happened to be across the street from the theatre.  Though Corey had been familiar with the address could not visualize an eye doctor’s office and so had asked a friend if the office really was across the street as he could only remember an animal clinic.  She joked that the veterinarian specialized in eye surgery.  There were ten stitches left when he returned to Bakersfield.

I think he was down to his last four when they started to unravel.  The theatre had chosen to perform an array of songs from the 50’s and early 60’s. He was wearing sunglasses not only for sensitivity but to hide the redness that the unraveling was causing in his eye.  The stage manager said it didn’t look right for him to wear the sunglasses in each number but thought he could change them to a different pair each time he changed costumes. She called every cast member to bring in all pairs of sunglasses that each of them owned, and so each time he was onstage he was wearing a different pair. 

I have worn sunglasses and pirate patches in the past – but don’t seem to have a patch on me currently though I would love to give it a go.  Makes the muscles in my right eye have to work harder but as of now I think it would be better for the right eye to do all of the work than to have my left eye to tear up whereas to I can’t see at all.

Another Weird Dream

           I was at a class off some kind.  There appeared to be four to six students – each had at least one doll.  The doll was supposed to represent a baby that we had left at home.  We were sitting on couches with pillows and blankets.  I felt squashed between two students – one who was the only male participant.  And when I noticed the female student had left, I scooted over so that there was a space between me and the male student.  My vibrator seemed to get caught on his afghan – which in the dream was his afghan, but in real life it looked like one my mom had made.

          Two of the students had built a tent out of their blankets and were sitting inside.  And then our instructor appeared along with several parts for a do-it-yourself-motorbike.  

KMT

It was my turn to build/ride first.  I remember a mechanic walking out and shaking his head, and then a real-life friend –who is also a mechanic – showed up and slapped the mechanic. 

          Now in the dream, the one who slapped, started out as a person that I know well, although I forget who, someone who really was looking out for my welfare.  Gradually he turned from my familiar friend to an almost-Jay-Leno-look-alike, but thinner.  He wore a white shirt with red pinstripes – more of a baseball uniform style but with a circled patch over his left breast.  It indicated that his name was Phil.  And Phil took a hard look at my instructor and then at me and says. “If I ever see you riding this thing, I’m going to kill you” and then he gave my instructor some choice words though I couldn’t tell what they were.

etsy

          My peers then emerge from their tent and each of them is wearing a pineapple shaped barrette in her hair and they ask the instructor if they try their “picks” which are inside of the pineapples.  They remove their barrettes and open a secret compartment and one takes out a hairpin looking thing and goes up to the bike (which is no longer in parts but has been assembled sometime during the dream) and uses it to maneuver some part of the bike so that several important pieces fall to the ground.

          The instructor then takes what remains of the bike and slams it into the garbage can.  I sigh a breath of relief because I had not wanted to drive it out in the first place as I thought it would be dangerous even before Phil had warned us all that it was.

          I woke up to go to the bathroom.  I never returned to the couches or class.

That is SO WRONG

           This last Saturday was the hottest yet since our move to Oregon.  Hotter than the last week in July has always been even thought Summer Fest was not held this year. Apparently it had bee 104 on August 28 last year.  I had forgotten. We had moved to Oregon for the moisture and weather consistency.  We have seen one of the two since our move here – but neither all year round.  Three digit temperature – part of 2020’s taunting. 

     106 Saturday and was suppose to be over 100 yesterday but only got to 90.  It was overcast most of the day.  We even felt a few drops in the morning.  Roland doesn't like to work outdoors when it's raining.  Jenna and I prefer it.  If we're going to get wet anyway, why not with moisture from the sky than sweat through our bodies?

      I had taken an allergy pill that knocks me into a coma – not that I wanted to be in a coma, but the heat does that by itself so why not take an allergy pill.  I notice that I have been light sensitive.  My eyes were bothering me yesterday and a bit right now.

    I wonder what the forecast will bring us today.

Social Media Missionaries

          We haven’t fed the missionaries since the pandemic began until this past week.  For a while they were grounded to their apartment and the rule was to drop off food at the church and they would pick it up.  Perhaps that was easier for many members who unable to have missionaries come due to circumstances – for instance there are many single sisters and the missionaries serving in Myrtle Creek have always been Elders. 

           The person who was called to find families to feed the missionaries is quite diligent with her calling and somewhat aggressive as I’m certain she has roped people into feeding them when they may not have chosen to do so on their own.  The rules are quite different now due to COVID.  I don’t know how it is in each mission but in Oregon they are no longer allowed to knock on doors.  They have to stand outside until they are summoned.  They can visit with people outside of their homes but may not go inside. 

           They had the wrong address.  I had "hacked" the deck early with essence of peppermint oil in order to keep the flies away.  Roland joked that it would attract the bees.  Jenna spotted the elders in front of our neighbors and I told them to park in our driveway.  We had dinner on our brand new deck.  Jenna, Roland and I sat near the door and the three elders were near the steps – table of food between us.  Roland had made hash browns, pancakes, blackberry syrup and omelets.  There were three or four wasps or hornets that seemed interested in our breakfast also.

    Two of the elders were from Utah and we discussed the luxury of purchasing blackberries from Logan, Utah as opposed to the blackberry bush growing wild and viewed as the Oregon state weed. They’re pioneers is this “new normal” each having had to join facebook (if they did not already have an account) so that they can set up virtual lessons and teach six feet apart whenever they are physically able to do so.  Before March it was a requirement for a person to attend at least three sacrament meetings before he or she could be baptized.  Now baptisms take place without their ever setting foot in the Church prior to baptism because meetings just are not happening right now – at least in our county which has been a major discomfort for so many members.  I can’t even imagine being baptized into a faith without attending at least one meeting. 

          One elder was called to serve his mission in Japan.  He was there for four months before the missionaries were pulled out and returned to the states.  He was so in tune with the spirit, it was amazing.  All three of them shared spiritual thoughts and it was so awesome having them here and sharing His love and having such great power on our brand new deck.  Very nice visit and another huge admiration for those who continue to serve full time.  What tremendous faith!

Backs and Ladders

          Today was the day assigned to our stake to go pick pears in Medford – which we had planned on.  Jenna had even had a friend stay the night so that we could take her with us. But as I was talking with the RS president last night, she said everything had been picked clean except for the tops.  Thus the only jobs available was to climb ladders.  Neither Roland nor I are in condition to climb ladders and it didn’t seem to appeal to either Jenna or her friend either.

          Jenna does and always has liked to climb.  But there is a difference climbing with the use of both hands and standing on a latter with a heavy bag that only gets heavier as pears are loaded inside.  And then to climb back down again?  That would be the toughest part for me personally.

          I really doubt we could have gone this morning anyway.  Roland’s back has hit a snag – something triggered the pain he had felt earlier this year (see here).  We have been working on rebuilding the greenhouse with a new more solid frame (the last one assembled like tinker toys and broke during snowmegeden (see here for pictures) He got up during the night and slept in longer than I recall him sleeping in before.  I don’t think he could have driven us during the time we had planned nor could have I as it was too dark for me to see.

          I feel bad for not having served at the pear farm this year.

I Touched My Face

           The air has been so dry.  This is NOT why we moved to Oregon.  We had moved for the moisture.  Probably we should have moved closer to the ocean.  I know I would have enjoyed the temperature more.  I can’t say it was the dry air that caused the wax build up that enters my right ear.  Always the right ear, never the left.  The last time I had a wax build up was when we lived in West Valley.  Jenna was either in first or second grade, so it has been more than eight years.  I was told the blob of wax was the size of a pencil eraser.  I suspect it is now roughly the same size.  I use ear wax removal and hot water in the shower.  I think it is smaller, but not out completely.  It doesn’t hurt but is annoying especially at night when I feel the beating of my eardrum.  I don’t remember having experienced that before.

          I haven’t taken Jenna out to the blueberry farm this entire month.  Toward the end of July I would get stomach pains due to the heat.  And then she took her turn feeling crummy.  And then back to me.  Because of my distorted hearing I seem to have lost my balance – I often feel light-headed and dizzy.  Throw my left eye into the mix and I’ve really got problems.  Though Jenna had asked if I had pink eye I chalked it up to a sinus infection that I was certain would last longer than it seems to be doing.  Still have the eye pain but not as much.  Taking showers has been helpful.  Puts a bit of moisture back into my body, but not enough to sustain me throughout the day. 

          Jenna and I drink a lot of water.  I keep a bottle on my night stand.  Normally I don’t drink the entire bottle during the night.  There are a few times when I have refilled it during the night – or the wee morning hours rather. But the last two months my bottle has been empty or near empty by the time I get up for the day even if I had refilled it during the night.   

          I have tried really hard NOT to touch my face – even before COVID but when my mind is distorted I forget.  When there is pain on different parts of the face it is hard not to touch it.

Golf Clubs

 

 

           Apparently I did not include these pictures in any of my June posts of our trip to NY.  Randy had introduced us to golfing.  That is one sport he never seemed to bother with when we lived in Utah but when he moved to New York he realized that most of his co-workers viewed golf as an essential and so he learned the sport and purchased a set of clubs in order to fit in.

          One thing about Randy is he has always taken to activities like a duck to water.  Seriously.  I have yet to see any sport, craft, or interest that he is not good at immediately. I do have a few relatives that seem to thrive on golfing.  I don’t find it all that enjoyable myself.

         As I had previously mentioned New York had just gone into Phase 1 the week we arrived.  The golf course had not yet opened but the practice range was. Randy had taken us there to teach Jenna and I how to golf.  Later he took Roland who seemed to enjoy it enough to purchase a set of golf clubs at a second hand store a month after our return. 

          The golf course in our area is not open for sport however – at least not at this time.  Currently it is being used as a walking park in order to get people out but still maintaining social distancing.

          I’m happy for Roland’s investment.  I hope that he will get  him out of the house – a bit of exercise.  Perhaps he can make some new friends and talk business with someone else other than me.

Two Dishes

           I must have at least a dozen posts in which I mention that I really don’t enjoy cooking.  Roland does.  If he was not in my life and it was only Jenna and me – well, we’d be living on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and milk.  I can follow a recipe, but cooking requires heat.  I hate the heat.

          Most of the time I have cooked dinner Roland doesn’t like it.  It surprises me that there are two things he does request of me.  Two Separate dishes: Potato salad and Ham chowder.  Neither which I have a recipe for but have done from memory.

          My mom was not the greatest cook – but then I’ve never had a sophisticated pallet and so never saw my mom as a lousy cook.  She wasn’t lousy.  Her food was edible, but it was mostly survival food – at least compared to Roland’s. I never thought of mom’s food as bland until after I was married.

          I remember seeing seasonings in the cupboards though not a lot.  I don’t think she seasoned or even salted her food. We had family staples such as spaghetti, hamburger-rice casserole, and ham chowder for instance.  She seemed to do a lot more cooking when Patrick and I were younger than she had after Corey and Kayla had come along.  

          I remember mom teaching Patrick and I how to make different foods.  We each made a loaf of French bread as she demonstrated.  I also remember her teaching me ham chowder.  She said you start with a rue – a flour and butter base.  You make a ball and slowly add canned milk and stir it in to keep it thickened.  When I told Roland that was how you start, he didn’t know what a “rue” was.  I don’t know if that was the word my mom told me.  The spelling that I used does not have a definition for cooking thickener. 

               [The correct spelling is R-O-U-X.  I now understand why I couldn't find it.]

          I have made potato salad more than I have ham chowder.  It has mostly been spontaneous because the potatoes need to be used up.  I prefer olives in my potato salad though olives have not always been available at the time Roland wants me to make potato salad.  Not everybody likes olives.  I know my youngest daughter-in-law does not.

            Roland’s latest request was for ham chowder.  I personally think it’s too hot for soups or hot chocolate. Nonetheless I made chowder yesterday.  I think it is one of the better ones I have ever made.