Winter Wonderland

Winter in Nebraska can be a long, cold time of year. Snow is expected. Cold is expected. The winter of 2009 was unbearable due to the record amounts of snow. Spring couldn’t arrive soon enough. We needed the “thaw” because we were running out of places to SHOVE the snow.

The Winter of 2011 has been comparably mild. We “Midwesterners” wished for a White Christmas, which didn’t happen. Although it did snow in December, it was mostly gone by Christmas. If Santa brought a bike or scooter to anyone this year, more then likely they were riding it That day.

So when it started snowing this past weekend, EYERYONE was excited. No one seemed too upset that we were on track to receive several inches of snow. Certainly not the snow plow workers who haven’t received mass amounts of overtime on their paychecks or the grocery stores whose shelves would be emptied by the panicked shoppers threatened by being snowed in all weekend. And the kiddos wished for major snow storm so they could enjoy a much needed SNOW DAY. They have not had ONE SINGLE SNOW DAY YET!

The snow did come. It was beautiful. Giant fluffy flakes.

Many think of snow and picture this

I see beauty.

What do you see?

My BABY brother is 40?!

My baby brother turned 40 December 29^th.

(That means I’m OVER 40!)

My BABY brother has been taller then me since he was in high school. He’s been stronger then me since he was 4. I developed my theatrical talents at a young age for survival reasons.

My brother used to pin me down to the ground, I would pretend to die, come “back to life” from heaven (raised in a very Catholic home – well mom was. Dad was a non practicing Baptist from Kentucky). I would bring my brother a message from God. Be kind to your sister. Stop beating her up and God will bring her back to life. If you don’t agree to these terms, you know how much trouble you’ll get into. At this point I’d have him in hears. (remember he’s only 4). I would lay back down, wait a few seconds, sit up and say “what happened? I don’t remember anything” Joe would run to me and hug me hard, still crying and thanking God that I had returned. He fell for this two or three times before he caught on. I didn’t say he was a genius, I said he was strong.

Joe was full of energy. He’d streak. Mom would find his clothes in a perfect pile and his two year old Coppertone butt running around the back yard. I think my mom attributes her nice figure in the 70’s to chasing my brother around.

Long gone are his days of streaking. He’s a talented builder. He’s framed basements for us, put in windows, helped us build a fabulous pergola over our deck. He’s very handy and always willing to help us out when needed.

He’s also 50% responsible for my niece. I may be partial but I think she’s really pretty.

I did NOT look like this when I was 15!

She has an opportunity to attend modeling school in Orlando. I hope it works out for her. At the very least, she’ll have some great memories.

So back to turning 40! We threw him a party.

As you can imagine, a good time was had by all.

Happy Birthday to my BIGGER – STRONGER – BABY brother.

Jokie

I had the greatest grandmother put on Earth. Seriously. A gem. Everyone thought so – and I’m not exaggerating. She was so sweet, had the kindest eyes, contagious laughter and she was built like a storybook Grandma; squishy in all the right places which made the hugs THE BEST EVER. Oh and she was just plain SILLY. You must be if you’re given the nickname JOKIE. That’s not the standard shortening of the name Josephine.

I have fond memories of her playing with me and my baby brother. She lived in Wyoming and we lived in Nebraska so the visits were only once a year but packed full of fun. By the time I had children of my own, my mother had retired so Jokie’s visits became summer long traditions. She’d arrive in May for the first of the 3 summer birthdays (her great grandchildren) and stay with my mom through August. My sons and niece were blessed with the laughter, fun and games, card tournaments, pork chops and hard dumpling dinners, donut making and just plain silliness that my brother and I experienced. We are all truly blessed to have had this time with her.

One summer Jokie had her knees replaced. The woman had bad knees as long as I could remember yet she never complained. The only time you knew they bothered her was when she was going up or down steps. But instead of verbalizing it with an “ouch” or “eek”, she hummed louder than normal. Post surgery the only true complaint we heard was to the Home Health Nurse that visited.

Jokie: When and I going to be able to take my vitamins?
Nurse: What vitamins? The Dr. should not have restricted you from any vitamins.
Jokie: My daily vitamins of B-E-E and R dear. What do you think has kept me going all these years? (When you’re 100% Bohemian, you have certain vitamins. And yes, this vitamin requirement does pass down with the generations)

Picture a nurse laughing so hard I’m sure she tinkled a bit. And I’m sure Jokie hummed a bit after that, perhaps even raised the brow a little.

Yes she was hummer. And a singer. She had a beautiful voice that we really only heard in church because the rest of the time it was silly singing. A lot of “cha cha’s” and “ooh la la’s” – especially during card games. Imagine an 80 year old woman, with a hand full of cards, lots of cards – we played Rummy- her shoulders going up an down, her fanny shaking in her seat, eyebrows raised and a” CHA CHA CHA” followed by laughter as she laid down her cards and caught you with 120 points in your hand. It took some of the sting away, not all, but some.

Dad might not have felt blessed having his mother-in-law around for 4 months at a time but he did a great job going with the flow. And it couldn’t have been THAT bad because in the final 18 months of her life, post stroke and a taking turns being cared for by my Aunt in WY and my uncle in UT, she came to live with them. My parents became her caretakers.

Jokie wasn’t the same. The stroke had taken her mind and transported her back in time to her childhood. It was hard to watch at time, others it was down right hilarious. You had to go it or make yourself crazy. Of course it was hardest on my mother. She went from being daughter to caretaker, from being Joyce to “that girl”. But she gave it her all (a nurse her entire life, the clinical aspect came naturally to her.) We still laughed with Jokie, just in a different way.

She passed away while my mother and I held her hands, in my old bedroom the night before my birthday. I know how blessed I was to have her so very long in my life. But I also felt it was well deserved. I lost grandpa’s at 4 and 9 and my other grandmother, “Mamaw”, lived in Kentucky. I could count on 1 hand the times I saw her. Distance, finances and the relationship between her and my dad were the reason for that. So I cherished every moment I had with Jokie. We miss her dearly.

I was given a few things from her home recently. She didn’t have much. She lived a very simple life. I suppose that’s why she’s on my mind and I felt the need to share her with you.

I’m not sure what I’ll do with these fancy plates. Gone are the days of formal bridal showers, but it seemed too sad to donate them to a thrift store. Perhaps I’ll have a ladies lunch that my “besties” will appreciate. I might require hats and gloves and serve cucumber sandwiches. Or maybe make the donuts from scratch she taught me how to fry. (yes hot fried donuts)

Of course we’ll drink our VITAMINS in these delightful cups as we hum and toast Jokie.

The jewelry is costume for sure. I might wear a pin or necklace here or there, but perhaps a broach bridal bouquet will still be “cool” when and if my niece ever marries. At the very least we might be able to incorporate a piece or two.

I do love this pin and feel it will look spectacular on my red trench coat this Spring.

I did partake in the theater and swing choir while in high school so it seemed fitting for mom to pass the vinyl on to me. Thankfully I have a record player that allows me to burn it to CD. I need to get the men out of the house so I can JAM. Well, as much as one can JAM to the soundtrack of Mame and Westside Story.

When you’re a Jet,
You’re a Jet all the way
From your first cigarette
To your last dyin’ day.

Actually, I can see myself cleaning the house to the Jet Song, shaking my fanny and shoulders like Jokie, humming the words I don’t know. There’s nothing wrong with being silly. Jokie was proof of that.

Josephine Mary Kramar Sims

Sep 19, 1915 – Oct 16, 2009

Cats or Dogs?

I was raised a dog person. Dad came home with our English Springer “STAR” when I was 2. Apparently, the neighbor boys and I found ourselves responsible for her nutritional well being. My parents realized this when they caught the three of us sitting in her kennel, with a sand pail of dog food, taking turns feeding her 1 piece at a time. (it was an “aha” moment for my parents as to why the dog was not losing weight).

“BRANDY” joined our family when I was 6. I grew up with her. I LOVED her.  She was always there for me when I needed her. And she needed me. She slept in my bed every night the summer I worked in Yellowstone as well as the year I worked as a nanny in New Jersey. 

New Jersey. My first real experience with a cat, “Hashbrown, the cat. He would “appear” from nowhere. Usually over my shoulder. He’d glare at me. He’d bring “presents”, aka, LIVE MICE into the house & play with them under the kitchen table. I did not like him & I’m pretty sure he did not like me. I was after all, a stranger in his house.

So it’s no surprise that I pay little attention to any cats at a friends house. Recently however, a couple of kitties have tugged at my heart strings.
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This is Fuzzy. How cute is that face?

Kit is a bit more shy, but awfully cute too!

Now this doesn’t change my preference. I’m still a dog lover.

Bleu & Nitro enjoying time on the deck

My boys enjoying the warmth of Nitro.

As I type this, I too enjoy the warmth of Nitro. One of my babies moved out of the house & I wait for the other to get home on time. Times have changed, I have changed “slightly” in regards to cats, but I still am and always will be a dog lover.

Bleu 2002 – 2011

The Devastation Left Behind

The 2011 Missouri River flood is far from “over”. The waters may be back in its banks, but the devastation left behind will remain for months and years.

I visited what was the home of my father-in-law yesterday. Althought I’ve seen pictures and heard stories, I was not prepared for what I saw or the emotions I felt.

What was once was the beautiful background of a serious discussion between a mother and a daughter

 is now a vaste wasteland of sand and mud

 

Many of the homes were washed in the river, but a few were lucky enough to “survive”

 

 

 

Speeding really isn’t a concern these days

And we we wonder where the wild thigs are

It’s so shocking

Keep the families of those affected in your thoughts as they continue to struggle and find closure.  And hope they remember this place as a happy place, of how it once was. Not of the despair that it is today. 

GOOD TIMES

The Family that stays together laughs together

My father-in-law is one of those forced to leave his home.  He lives along the Missouri River, on the outskirts of a tiny community called Fort Calhoun. He’s a widower and leads a simple life.  He doesn’t have a grand home or tons of possessions he’s left behind, but still it’s his home.  The one he shared with my mother-in-law before she died June 18, 2010.  He’s still not been able to go through her things. They’re all still there, waiting for us to sort and donate.

 So, my father-in-law was forced to leave his home.  The home does not have water in it (as of this posting) but water has covered the road and you couldn’t get to the house, without a boat. Not any boat of course, because the water isn’t 20 ft deep; a flat bottom boat.  Fortunately, we were able to borrow one and get the most important items out of the house (pictures, tax documents, his clothing) out of the house and he moved other items “up high” on to kitchen counters and tables.  At the end of the day, the things that were left behind, were just things. Couches, tables, dressers. All items that can be replaced.  (fortunately he DOES have flood insurance).  It took a couple of trips in “the boat”, but the mission was accomplished.

 I suppose your wondering when the humor will be reflected on this page.

 Well, where did he go?  Well to my house of course!  What’s one more man when you already live with 3?

 My oldest son has taken refuge in the basement on an air mattress and given up his room for his grandpa.  He was a bit put out at first until he realized he had access to a bigger T.V. and gets to sleep in the coolest room in the house.  (I envy him in the middle of the night when I have the pleasure of waking up due to a glorious hot flash.  I snarl at him in the morning if retrieving something from the laundry room and he’s literally bundled up in a cocoon of blankets and I have sweat dripping on my neck just from using the blow dryer and it’s only 7:15 a.m.)

 I have 4 grown men using the same toilet.  That was a joy to clean this weekend.  It’s 24/7 sports talk.  “Grandpa” brings a new opinion to the table that’s not been discussed at the last dinner.  Grandpa LOVES baseball….O M G….there’s nothing but baseball on this time of year.  If ever I needed to spend time with girlfriends or nieces for a good dose of estrogen…..

 Grandpa also feels very at home with us.  Which is totally how I WANT him to feel.  It’s bad enough that he’s displaced, I don’t want him to feel like a guest in our home, but like part of the family.  And boy does he.

 He recently took a shower after a hard days work and since it was early, came downstairs to spend more time with us.  Sweet right? HE WAS NOT WEARING A SHIRT.

 Now this is not bad because he’s 69 and has that “elderly” appearance.  No, you see, it’s bad because I’VE NEVER SEEN SO MUCH HAIR ON A PERSON’S BODY UP CLOSE!!!  This scares the heck out of me!

 Way back when, the very first time I stayed at my future in-laws home and I saw my father-in-law without a shirt, I remember thinking; WOW, that’s a very hairy man.  I hope my fiancé doesn’t end up looking like that.  (and yes, he does now)  So imagine the shock to my system I had when I saw, EVEN MORE hair and all white to boot.  He’s sasquatch but white.  Which means, in time, I will be married to white sasquatch!  And one day, my children will be the same.  Lord Have Mercy!!!!

 What was I supposed to say when asked “Do you mind if I go without a shirt?”  HECK NO….I don’t want to look into my future – not THAT future!

 But I didn’t….I let him know he should do what he needs to feel at home, then turned and continued cleaning the kitchen. And prayed that my husband would lose the hair on his back like he’s losing on his head.  I know it won’t happen, but if I don’t ask, my chances are slim to none right?  WHY on Earth, does 1 human have so much body hair, enough to braid a rug and another has nothing, nada?

 I just laugh.  I have to.  Or I’ll end up in the nut house.  4 men, 4 sets of socks, 4 men standing and going to the bathroom and not aiming very well (that’s a whole other blog…big hole, small hose – why the aiming issue?) 4 conversations about baseball, turkey hunting, fishing, girls….yes, they all talk about girls….Grandpa gives advice, Dad listens and remembers a time when, the boys sharing their stories…it’s amazing how much you hear if you’re quiet….I swear they forget that I’m there. 

 I’m thankful I live close enough to my father-in-law so that he has a place to stay.  And that he’s comfortable – that he feels welcome.  He could be with us for quite a while if the predictions are accurate.  So he’ll stay, we’ll continue as we are and at the end of each day, I’ll make a point to laugh.

Why does the cute phase have to end?

Teenagers are not cute. Does that one word (TEENAGER) cause an instant eye roll or was a heavy sigh expelled from your body? Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE my teenagers, but there are times that I don’t LIKE them very much.

I was blessed with two children. And I do mean blessed.  I wasn’t a woman who got pregnant just by thinking about it. It was work for me. So when I first held each of my children I felt an instant love that I cannot describe here for you today. And I thought they were the cutest babies ever born.  And we all know, there’s nothing cuter than your baby, snuggled in their footie pjs, asleep in your arms, with those baby lips pursed, just WAITING for kisses.

I loved watching them grow, getting into the dogs water bowl and dumping it over the entire kitchen. It was cute! Instead of dropping to my knees with a towel I ran and retrieved my video camera. (the 10 pound kind of course since this was 1993).    The year my son and his cousin, also a toddler at the time, played with the ashes from SNAKES on the 4th of July, again, I stopped and took a picture. BECAUSE IT WAS SO CUTE.  This continued on for years.

Now, my boys are big. They stink even though they use deodorant and shower daily. The tower over me. They roll their eyes more than me (and I’m an EYE ROLLER).  They accuse me of over reacting and not understanding. AND BEING OLD.  They leave socks and shoes everywhere. Those shoes are big and I manage to find them in the oddest places, in the dark of course, so I can trip over them. They have not mastered the art of replacing a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom. (I might let that one slide because their father has not yet mastered what I think of as a simple task and they think of as a chore). They don’t like dressers or closets because their clothes never make it into either. They don’t mind sleeping on a bed without sheets!!!

They are not cute. Why did this need to happen?  I recall thinking boys were cute in high school.  So if they are cute for the girls, why can’t they be cute for the mom?  Must the cute factor “leave the nest” and only be available for the new women in their life?  Is it because a mothers love is so strong, they know no matter what, no matter how stinky or messy or lazy they are, they don’t need to be cute, because at the end of the day, Mom still loves me?

Yeah, that’s probably it….stilll, I do miss the cute.

One Story at a Time

To blog or not to blog…that was the question. I love to read, I love to write, I’ve been told I can tell a funny story. Would a blog be a perfect combination of many of the things I love? I suppose there’s only one way to find out.

A good friend of mine has encouraged me to start as I have found many an excuse not to. I needed to clean my computer, it’s too slow, it would take too long.  I need to do my taxes, I need to clean the house. I have to admit I’m running out of excuses. I hope I have as much faith in myself as she seems to have in me.

I’m not certain at this point what I’ll even write about, but I’ve got to start somewhere….so I’ll tell you about me.

I am a woman (hear me roar), I am a wife, I am a mom. I am also a full-time worker outside of the home. I’m a people person. I love to sing really loud in the car. I love to spend time with friends, lay on a floatie in the lake, read books in the sun, spend time with family, organize things (I know a little weird).   I’ve worked as a cashier, telemarketing, in a dining room in Yellowstone National Park one summer, filed charts in an eye office, was a hostess in a country club, a nanny, a stay at home mom and then made my way into AN OFFICE setting. And here I remain. 

I love to share. Stories about me, my family, things that happen at work. So I suppose that will be majority of things I write about. At times I might share photos too as it’s another hobby, although one I’ve not really perfected.

I guess I need a creative outlet and I’m hoping this is the place. I’m not sure of what future days will bring in the creative category, but I’ll give it my best. You’ve got to start one story at a time.