Category: along the way



Friday has rolled around, the Fictioneers under the auspices of Rochelle Wisoff Fields and wth photo prompt provided by C.E.Ayr compete to present a story, beginning, middle and end in 100 words or less.

A quick search of history provided this information, Sep 1 Future Baseball Hall of Fame 1st baseman Lou Gehrig hits his 3rd grand slam in 4 days & 6th homer in consecutive games in NY Yankees’ 5-1 win v Boston Red Sox

And here we go: September 2, 1931

The door knob! The pain! Ranger shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs.

“What the?” Nothing was right. The derelict house was new painted, the lawn mowed, fence intact. He shook his head again.

Looking toward Main Street, it wasn’t HIS Main Street. “Where am I?”

“I’ve seen cars like that. Ah, Grans living room!”

He saw a boy race by, carrying a newsbag filled with papers.

“Hey Jock, you’re late! Lou Gehrig hit another grandslam. Can you believe it?”

And Ranger remembered. He lived here, so long ago.

He grabbed his glove and ran.


It’s Monday, and already a long day in the world of a caregiver and my caregivee.

We started out this morning with a discussion of ‘why do we need to do this?” Blood sugar, Blood pressure and Oxygen saturation which is daily sent to the VA.

My answer, “Because they need to keep track”, did not seem to satisfy. Neertheless, we did the things and the data was sent.

Last week, Hubby saw the pulmonary folks, I’ve been mentioning to anyone who’d listen that his oxygen numbers were less than the desird 93%.

Even though he’s on oxygen at night, and using two different broncodilators, his morning reading is often in the 85-90 range.

After a pulmonary function test, where his numbers dropped to 80 and the tech had to put oxygen on him to get it back up to 90. it was decided he needed supplemental oxygen when he is ‘short of breath’ during the day.

The oxygen man has been here, portable tanks are in place and we have both had a lesson in the proper operation. The man couldn’t have been back to the highway before I was asked if this is going to do any good.

Honestly, I do not know. I do know that getting better oxygen may help some of the muscle pain when you walk, and it may help your brain work better too.

So for now, we will be monitoring this more closely, watching for breathing difficulties and adding a few more requests to the prayer list.

Yes, he napped in front of the TV, but he got dressed. Count the blessings and be thankful every day.


Here, on Sunrise Ridge, in order to coax small children to eat, I have resorted to  drawing ‘Happy faces’ on the paper plates -after they finish their meal.

After dinner last night, I mentioned that we would have French toast for breakfast, that was met with a lot of enthusiasm.

This morning, I make the French toast and fix the plates, great-grand Sarah takes about two bites of her breakfast and says, “I am done.”

That’s fine, drink your juice, put your fork in the sink…

And she remembered the cookies we had baked during yesterday’s ‘Snow Day’!

“Can I have a cookie now?”

Well, no, because if you are not hungry enough to eat your French toast, you are not hungry enough to have cookies.

Her plate was clean and ready for a big smile in no time flat!

The search


You may be aware that I have a certain fascination with things old.

Attending an auction this past week, I ran across a lovely Singer treadle machine, with interesting markings and a metal plate on the cabinet. US WPA was the marking on the cabinet. I had never seen this before, so armed with photos, I did a bit of searching.

The machine was made in 1926, further questing of the fine sources on the internet told me that this machine was one of many used by women in the Great Depression in sewing projects nationwide.  Clothing was the main project, but toys and stuffed animals were also made.

I knew the WPA was responsible for many local road improvements and the building of numerous schools in our area. Jobs created for men who would otherwise not be able to provide for their families. This was the first time I had found out there were jobs created for women.

This machine was sold to another buyer, I talked to her and hope she knows the treasure she has.

 

 

 

 

 


Recently, our family has expanded a bit. Single parent grandson and his children have been staying with us, while he does some serious re-hab on their house.

Having a Head Start student and a Pre-K student around is a challenge. We have had an assortment of the older ones in and out over the years, but no ‘little ones’ on a regular basis.

Of course we are handling it, pretty well. As Hubby says, “We can do this one more time.”

Last week our Pre-K boy needed something that started with the letter N for his ‘Show and Tell’. Uncle Brett and I helped and we soon had lovely noodle necklaces for him to take. 100_0533

I’m re you can see that the finished project made him happy, and he said  everyone in his class liked it too.

While we worked on them, I realized that I did these with my siblings, my own kids, grandkids, various nieces and nephews, and a host of the other children that filtered through out home over the years.

That’s a lot of pasta!


100_0461

Saturday dawned cool and bright. Hubby’s brother arrived during the night to join us.

With stars still in the sky they headed down to the eddy to fish.

I was enjoying a cup of coffee when suddenly the camper began to shake and my cup danced wildly across the table. Before it was done, I grabbed the cup and realized it was an earthquake.

Our camping spot is pretty near the infamous New Madrid Fault, so I was more than a bit concerned.  I texted the daughters and soon found that this quake was centered in Oklahoma.

That was a relief!

Saturday afternoon, the ferry had mechanical issues and was stopped on the Kentucky side.  I was sitting under our canopy, enjoying life. People would walk over to ask questions, no problem as long as they stayed outside the canopy, but some would not. Walking into my space and giving our camp and equipment a once or twice over. A few seemed to think I should be providing food and drinks. Um, NO!

Lots of traffic had to be diverted. Many travelers spent a few minutes lamenting the fact that GPS routed them to this place at the ‘end of the world’ as the shortest route. It is only the shortest route if the ferry is running. I was rather amazed at the many complaints that came from folks who resented having to wait for the ferry, even when it was running on schedule.

So many did not notice the beauty, glimpse the bald eagles, deer, the beginning hints of autumn color in the trees and so many interesting things going on.

 

 


https://oldentimes.wordpress.com/2011/03/10/pearl-the-kitchen-girl-good-things-last/

It could be worse! Pearl is still around, doing her job.

Sadly, the vintage bowl is no more.  An accident took it away today.

I wish I had some idea of how many times this appliance and accouterments has been used over the years.

Perhaps somewhere out there in the ether world, a replacement can be found. Thankfully the technology of computers, Google and such is available. Off I go to begin the search!


Once again, the charming Rochelle, path finder extrordinaire, has issued a map, the challenge for Friday Fictioneers.  This week the prompt is from one of my photos.

Here, in 100 words, is my little walk in the park. Lane and Jemma have appeared before and seemed to want to wander back.

Wedding Dress

Arrive Taras. gHOST TOWN 092

“Thirty five cents a yard,” The clerk was impatient. Leaving Jemma looking at the calico print, he turned to another customer.

Jemma glanced again at the ready made dresses hanging  in the rafters. Oh, to have twelve dollars to spend.

After all, it was a wedding dress!

Lane had offered  half his pay, ten dollars, but they needed that for the new house and she must have dishes, pots and pans.

Teaching school for fifteen dollars a month and board would not  stretch enough.

Counting carefully, she sighed, “I’ll take seven yards.”

“That will be $2.45”.

*****

Other players have taken different paths, to see where they went click here.

 


Hubby was watching the weather this morning. “It’s supposed to snow in the Rocky’s, up to two feet.”

This led my mind on a tangent, back many years. We had made a road trip with young children to California in late April. Our trip back included driving through Colorado.

We took an extra day, to visit places Hubby remembered from his childhood. A lovely day, so fine in fact, that we purchased some camping essentials to spend the night at a camping area we found.

Hubby purchased a fishing pole and license then headed to a nearby stream for some trout fishing.

The kids and I hiked around the camping area, enjoying the mountains and glimpses of animals.

About noon, the temperature began to drop, and snow began to fall. Late in the afternoon, a ranger came by, advising us to ‘leave, unless you are prepared to stay several days’.

We packed up, not being in a position to do be ‘snowbound’.

The snow followed us past Denver, piling up 6+ inches on slick winding roads, assuring us that leaving was the right decision.

Today, I think back, all because of a weather report.

 

 


Once again, Wednesday has arrived, and with it our fearless ringmaster, Rochelle has donned her red coat and top hat, “Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls”, she announces with a crack of her whip. Issuing the challenge to join her at the circus known as Friday Fictioneers.  https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/. Under her discipline we climb to the high wire to present a story in approximately 100 words.

Other acrobats have posted, their back-flips and somersaults can be found here: http://www.inlinkz.com/new/view.php?id=623923

 

ff4-15-15 kent Bonham

This week’s picture courtesy of Kent Bonham led me down a path that my grandson walks each day.

Brett is autistic, although reading and writing are skills he has not mastered in his 21 years, he can speak, articulating some of the effects of his condition.

April is Autism Awareness Month. I dedicate this little tale to Brett and all who deal with Autism, in its many guises. Maybe it will raise awareness a bit as well. I can hope.

 

Sound Prison

“Sensory overload” the therapist calls it, “meltdown” in layman’s terms.

People gather around, invading the circle of ‘personal space’, gesturing, talking.

Afraid to approach.

But too near and too loud for the boy.

No matter what, he hears it all. There are no filters.

No way to block the beating

The words have form and substance, invisible,battering.

They swirl around, floating shapes, sweeping in, crushing.

Rhythms pound, hammers in his mind.

Varied tones stab like knives.

He has to close it off! It has to stop!

And so, he sits on the floor, rocking.

Withdrawn, locked in his alternate universe,

Forced to submission by the weaponry of sound.