And The Election Is Finally Here

Have you voted yet? Even though early voting has become very convenient, I usually like to vote on the actual day. So on Tuesday, November 6, I will take the very short walk to a neighboring church and cast my vote. And I'm hoping my team wins. I know you all may feel the same about your choices, and I am trying my best to respect them if they are not the same as mine. But I find it very difficult. It still surprises me that two people can listen to the very same words, yet hear such different things.
The first time I voted was for George McGovern. I stayed up most of the night listening to speeches. During the years, I have probably picked more losers than winners. There have been candidates I have loved. There have been others that scared me. This year I really don't know about the outcomes. I have tried to listen to both sides. Yet, at the same time, I am weary of all of it. I really don't remember a time when there have been so many issues  and so many strong opinions. And these are only the midterms!
For most of my voting life, my husband and I had nearly the same opinions when it came to politics.  We didn't usually talk about who we were voting for ahead of time, but we always found out it was the same candidate. I remember one year when I didn't really like any of the major choices, and so I voted for either the Green Party or Libertarian candidate. I don't know which. And then I discovered that he voted for the same one! We liked the same news shows, and the same political commentators. He watched a lot more tv than I did, and was very well informed. Discussing politics was always fun and lively. We both had a lot to say, but we didn't usually surprise one another.
I can't say that this year. John and I both believe in the importance of voting, but I am pretty sure most of our votes will cancel one another out. He surprises me all the time.  He's also very well informed, and he makes me think. But I don't think he'll try to change my mind.  He just wants to hear my opinion.  And that's okay with both of us. I'm looking forward to more surprises ahead.

Revisiting the Past

This is the Flynn Mansion at Living History Farms. It was built in 1870 by a railroad contractor and was a very modern house at the time. Hot and cold running water! Indoor bathrooms! Gas lighting! I was privileged to work here as Supervisor for several years, and often thought that being an historic interpreter was the best job in all the world. I miss it.
During my time as "Mrs. Flynn", I studied Victorian crafts, housekeeping,and manners and morals. I know a bit about such topics as proper wardrobes, tea parties, etiquette, setting a table, cooking and baking on a woodstove, managing servants, and many kinds of needlework.
There was a time when I could tell you the high points of decorating. I used to call this the fruit, flowers, fringe, feathers, fur, and fainting couches tour.
I knew Queen Victoria's Secrets.
I could make a hat, starting from a buckram foundation, and finishing with the trimmings. I knew exactly what a lady would keep in her reticule.
I knew the proper games for boys and girls.
I could send messages with a bouquet of flowers, or a fan.
And I could make jewelry from hair.
I recently went back for an afternoon and demonstrated hairwork. Although most jewelry was made with human hair, we use horsehair to show the procedure. We can buy it, cleaned and ready to use. (Disclaimer: No animals were harmed during this process.)
Hairwork was very common from the seventeenth through the nineteenth century. It was at a height of popularity during the Civil War. A sentimental lady could weave lengths of her hair to make a watch chain. Whenever her beau would look at his pocket watch, he would be reminded of his sweetheart at home.

The table is used to make the chain. A pattern is laid on top of the table, and the strands of hair are twisted to form the braid. The book on the parlor table is a reproduction of "The Art of Hairwork", written by Mark Campbell, and first published in 1867. It has instructions for a table, many patterns, and was also a catalog of jewelry that could be ordered.
At one time I collected jewelry. Here are pictures of the pieces that I have. The chain is for a pocket watch. Most of the other pieces are brooches. These are beautiful gold pins with compartments to hold a tiny bit of hair. The hair was often made into small flowers, braids, or curls. Many of these were mourning pieces, with names and dates engraved on the back. Some are reversible. It was possible to show the contents, or to wear it with the precious memory close to one's heart. Hair jewelry was a very sentimental decoration, and the pieces were treasured.
                                   

 Hairwork flowers are made with knitting needles. You may have seen these formed into a wreath or other design. This one is always on display at Flynn. Many shapes of flowers can be made from a basic gimp, which is formed over the needles, and secured with a thin wire. Wreaths were often formed in an open, horseshoe shape. This meant it was a friendship wreath, made from hair collected from friends and family members. When the circle was closed, it was a memorial wreath.

Here are some of the many flowers that can be made. Beads and tiny artificial leaves can be added for color. The song  is from the nineteenth century.
When I demonstrate hairwork, it is one craft that is very high on the "Ick" scale. Today, many people think this is just a little too unusual. I have often seen visitors jump backwards when I explain what I am doing! And yet, these same people are often the ones to tell me that of course they saved their babies' curls!                                    

Anniversaries

Today is my 50th wedding anniversary. At least it would be if there were still two of us here. Jim has been gone for seven years now, and my life has changed at least 77 ways in those years! A golden anniversary is a pretty big thing, even if only one of us is can acknowledge it. I tend to mope around a lot, play sad music, and just be generally depressed and totally miserable on all our holidays. Tonight, I will even be working at Hamilton's, which, by the way, is the last place I saw him. I know, bad choice. I really wasn't looking at my calendar when I said yes to that one. Even though it sounds strange, working at the funeral home has been very healing for me over the past few years. I just don't like to be there on my own significant days. Oh well, as my mother-in-law used to say: "Offer it up". See what I mean, I dwell in the past on days like today.
But, this year everything feels better. I've mentioned here before that I am seeing someone. I really thought that I could never care for anyone else, and it surprises me all the time that I do. And, sometimes, I feel guilty and that I shouldn't expect to have any happiness again. Yet, I feel so lucky every day to  have found such a nice man, and that he cares about me, and that we enjoy being together. Thank you, John, for coming into my life.
And, so, along with the sad songs, and the memories, I am listening to new songs. And I am enjoying making new memories. And feeling alive. And looking forward to the future. Happy Anniversary to me.

"The broken will always be able to love harder than most. Once you have been in the dark, you appreciate everything that shines."                Zachry K. Douglas

What a Way to Get a Bouquet.....or Always Carry An Epipen

Sunday was my birthday. It wasn't the big one, but close enough. I had a lovely party with my family. I received a beautiful necklace from my special someone. And my frat boys left flowers at my door. Life was good.

Monday was not so good. I have had some serious allergies for many years. And I have had testing more than once. I've had an epipen for over 30 years. Not the same one, of course. They are only good for a year, and cost a few hundred dollars each time. I have never actually injected myself, but have practiced. I have, however, been to the ER several times over the past few years, and stay a few hours while they monitor me and give me iv's.  I am always very careful not to eat things that might be dangerous for me, but there is something out there. We can't yet figure out what it is, but it is trying to kill me. I can always tell immediately if I have eaten the wrong thing.

This time it was a little different. I was at the grocery store, and my eyes started to feel puffy. Usually it begins with itching in my ears and my mouth, so I just took a Benedryl and started to drive home. About ten minutes later I decided to keep on going to the ER, I thought I was making a good decision, but I have been lectured several times today by doctors and nurses that it should be epipen in one hand giving myself a shot, while I am calling for an ambulance with the phone in my other hand. 

I spent the past three days in the hospital, mostly in the ER, and Intensive Care. I was in severe anaphylactic shock, and was sedated, and on a ventilator for sixteen hours. I know it brought back some terrible memories for my kids. This was the way Jim died, almost exactly seven years ago. He was on life support, and we had to make the decision to let him go. I know they had to be thinking of that time while they watched and waited with me day and night.  I am sorry to put them through that again. I am looking pretty bruised and battered, and full of medicine, and a lot less blood than I had in my veins a few days ago. Lucky for me, they didn't have to pull that plug. 

And I got flowers:

 

I'm sure there must be easier ways! I want to say thank you to all the wonderful staff at Mercy Hospital. And to my children, even though they didn't recognize me and told the nurse that I wasn't their mother. To the people who did see me, I hope you forget. It was not pretty, but I am glad to be here and grateful for all the caring messages I received. And once again, Life is Good!

Jigsaw Puzzle Decorating

When I was about twelve, my dad gave me a box filled with lined cards and dividers. The cards were smaller than typical index cards and the box was about fifteen inches long, with a fitted lid. On the first card I wrote the title "Revelations of My Soul". I had borrowed those words from a vampire story I had recently read. I thought it was fitting. For the next several years, I filled those cards with thoughts, and quotes, and many, many revelations. When I moved away, I had a little ceremony, and burned the cards, along with all my teenage journals. It felt like a very grown-up thing to do. But, it never stopped me from collecting files. Over the years, I have had a variety of boxes, indexes, and furniture files. My first four drawer file was a Christmas gift, and I was thrilled with it. And I have always loved to write info on index cards. And drawers with labels are their own particular sort of heaven, I think. I am sure it seems disconcerting to a lot of people, but I am comforted by paper. Now that I live in my tiny space, you can see that there isn't a lot of room for furniture, but I employ my own kind of jigsaw puzzle decorating. I long for "white space", and fantasize about becoming a minimalist, but obviously, I don't want it enough to leave any gaps unfilled! If I can find a way to fit something in, I will do it. My granddaughter used to call our house the house of doors and drawers, because I had so many cupboards and drawers in it. I don't have a lot of cupboards and drawers anymore. I only kept my favorites. And I have found a way to fit them in to my space. My latest treasure is shown above. I fell in love with this metal file cupboard at a store nearly a hundred miles, away. And it took four trips to get it home! The first time I had to find a place that it would fit. The second trip, I went back to see it again, measured and purchased it. The third trip was a miscalculation. We found it was just a smidge too long to fit in my daughter's vehicle. And after the fourth, and final trip, it came to live with me. And it is perfect. It has thirty six pullout drawers, and holds file folders and magazines. All of them are labeled. I do love labels.
The picture below is a cupboard I have had for many years. It is oak with sliding doors below, and seventeen drawers above. All labeled, of course. It also has two pull out "bread board shelves", so I can use it as a desk. Some people may think that is a lot of file drawers for a tiny room, but I've never made a secret of the fact that I would live in a library if I could. For the first two years that I lived here, this favorite cupboard was in storage. And finally, I decided to move some of the more traditional furniture, and find a place for it. My rooms came furnished.  Very new and nice, but never to my taste. I've lived here now for three years, and keep adding my own things back in. I think of myself like Mary Kate in the movie, "The Quiet Man". Do you remember how she just wanted to have"her things about her"? John Wayne wasn't enough. She needed her antique furnishings too.
I know it looks very crowded, and my style of decorating these days is layered, labeled, and stacked. Sometimes, I think that everything I have is on top of something else. My rooms are actually taller than they are wide, so it seems that the only way to go is up.

News on the Homefront

In case anyone has noticed, I haven't been writing very much lately. My last post was in January. The reason isn't because nothing happens in my life. To the contrary, I have been pretty busy here in 2018. I just don't have a lot that I feel like I can write about!

I am still a fraternity House Director, also known as a frat mom. I am just about to finish my third year. The house is still standing, so I guess I am doing an okay job. I enjoy living with all this young energy, even though I sometimes wonder if they notice that I am here. Even though I have been a mother for most of my life, I was pretty naive about many things when I moved here. I see and hear  many things that surprise me, and I have a lot of amusing and heartwarming stories. But I feel like they are not my stories to share. So I don't really say a lot about these young men, except to brag about them sometimes.

I have another part time job that I never really talk about. Since a few months before I "retired" from the pediatric clinic four years ago, I have been working a few days a week as an FSA-family services assistant, at a funeral home. I have a variety of duties. I take photos and arrange flowers and mementos, move furniture, and make coffee. I pick up tissues that grieving people don't even realize they drop on the floor. I have written obituaries and designed folders. I am there to help make things easier for families at their worst times. Often I have situations that I never, ever thought I could handle. And I always hope that I have learned to face those occasions with grace and compassion. And I have lots of stories, some heartbreaking, and some hilarious. (Nothing makes a person value and appreciate life more than working with death.) But, once again, I don't feel like they are my stories to share.

And the third reason that I have been so quiet lately.......I have a boyfriend. A gentleman friend. A companion. I'm really not sure what you call it at this stage of life. Boyfriend sounds silly. Gentleman friend is a little old fashioned, even for this victorian gypsy. And companion makes me feel like Tonto, the faithful companion of the Lone Ranger.  Are we going steady? I'm really not sure what it is, but I know it has changed my life. It took me a long time to become accustomed to being an independent woman, who didn't need anyone in her life. But, just when I was sure that my life was never going to be any better, it turned upside down.

It's been a long time since I felt happy for no reason. But now I do. Everyday. Tonight I saw a friend I hadn't seen for several months. She commented that I looked so much happier and younger! I don't look any thinner though. I guess that might be the next step. I spend a lot more time going out to eat than ever before. And I am even thinking about remembering how to cook again. That isn't too easy though. It's been three years since I had a kitchen! 

The oddest thing about old people romance is that it sometimes makes me feel like I am a teenager again, uncomfortable and awkward. But it can also be more comfortable, and refreshingly candid.  We both know what a good relationship can be. And we know what it is like to care about and build a life with one special person since the time we were very young. When I was a teenager, I never thought about getting older, or my future health and longevity, or what my children would think about me caring about someone new. As for my children, who are now middle-aged, they seem to be fine with it. As long as I don't talk about the details. My friends, on the other hand, want details that I don't even have.

And that's all I have to say about my secret life. For now, anyway.

Spinning Around

Well, hello there. It's Saturday again, and I am writing. I did miss about eight weeks, just after I told myself that I no longer lived in a fog! (See last blog post, Nov 18 "Best of Plans".) I see it was all about finding contentment in my life just the way it was. So, of course, that same life did its' famous spin around and about--just as soon as I wrote those words.

I spent two wonderful, glorious weeks in England, which I think everyone must know is my favorite place in the world. But just before I left, I received two surprising messages. I am still trying to process one of them so I will leave it for another day. The second message was from an old friend. It was an invitation to dinner. This may seem like very normal to most people, but please remember this: My last date was in 1967. Yes, it had been a while. And do you know what happens when someone like me suddenly has a date? I will tell you. Dating advice. That's what. And times have changed. Of course, there are still the basics, and I would like to share what I have heard from friends and family.

Here are TheTop Ten Rules For Dating When You Don't Know How

1. Don't shave your legs. (This will keep you from making unwise decisions.)

2. Be sure to shave your legs. (Just in case you want to walk on the wild side.)

3. Get a pedicure. (Okay, I can do that.)                                                 

4. Buy new underwear. (Whaaaaaaatt????????)  

5. Remember "Netflix and Chill" is a code. (Neither of us knew the code, so that was ok)

6. Don't dress up too much. (You'll look like you are trying too hard.)

7. Don't wear jeans, sweat pants, or leggings (Not caring enough)

8.Don't talk too much. (I probably failed that one. I talk a lot. And then I worry that I talked a lot)

9.Be cool. Don't ask too many questions. (Failed that one too. I always want answers.)

10. And my favorite-- Don't wear your Death jewelry. ( I probably do have way more "death jewelry" than the average person. It's all those years of Victorian influence)

The evening went very well. And I'm happy to say there have been more very pleasant evenings. Sometimes, I feel very, very comfortable with the whole situation, and other times I feel like I am 15 again. I think I am finally learning to put the Past where it is supposed to be, and really living in my Now. I still don't know about my Future, but then we never do.

Message just pulled from the Wish Bottle: What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters, compared to what lies within us.