Last of the Longest Month

Charles's cannon balls

This has been the longest month, and many people agree with me that it was a hard month.  Weather, delay, transition, school drama, breakdowns and repairs, colds, snow-snow-snow, school-on-Saturday, blackboard gremlins, itchy dogg butts, no money, stranded boys, and all of the other challenges that the first month brought.  But it is overish now, and the sun is coming out.  We are in for a warm week ahead, the bills are paid, the dogg butt is less itchy (thank god), I love the manz, all of our family and friends are safe and well, school is underway and interesting, and life is good.  New month, fresh start.

Last week Charles and Dad were cleaning out the old Woodcock home in Atkinson- Charles's great grandparents house.  It belongs to relatives...can't remember the fellows name but the lady's name is 'Ratsy' (?).  They don't live nearby, and had it rented out.  The renters ran out on them, left a bunch of stuff behind (including a full freezer/fridge....and no power.  ick)  So anyway, the fellows were cleaning out the house and barns, hauling stuff to the dump, scrapping the scrap and bringing what is sellable home.  Back in one of the sheds the manz found the cannonballs.  No telling how long they have been there- but there is an iron one and two stone ones, and 3 solid metal shots (smaller balls).  This area has been the site of both  Revolutionary and Civil wars.  They could be either, but I'm betting on Civil.  We need to do some more research on them, but cool, cool, cool eh?  The manz also brought home treats for me: scissors and clippers, marbles, an old-school potato masher, salts, an old old icecream scoop, TWO horseshoes- treasures!  I love this type of thing more than any other gift- and I love him for knowing that.

Sometimes~

By Lily Lane

This is the artwork of one of my former students, now all grown up.  She linked her blog to facebook this morning, and I spent the better part of my coffee-time exploring her artwork.  It is amazing.  She paints, draws, does comics, fibers...beautiful stuff. One of those students who has grown into just an amazing (that word again- but it is so appropriate) woman.  One of the lucky few to find talent, beauty, passion and true love all waiting for them- and I am so incredibly happy for her. And envious.  (I wish I could time-travel back for a do-over of my twenties! except I would still want a grendel, and mr. manz)....

Speaking of which, this is what I hope for Grendel to find.   Passion in work.  Love.  Happy talent.  A place to be.  It's hard watching the kids grow up.  I am still in mother bear mode- I've been reading about 'Tiger Mothers' and I am definitely not a tiger mother, I am a mother bear just like my sisters and my mother.  We encourage and protect, sometimes get snarly and make the boybears leave the cave...but we support. Love. Forgive. Remain. Worry. Believe.  Tiger mothers push and push and drive their young up and away... they fly high without a safety net, just good claws to scramble up walls with.  Bear boys find their way to- but it takes some stumbling around and a season of hibernation.  They seem to wake up slower, take their time to find their focus, always have the risk of lazy.  I'm not a boy, but I was a bearcub...it took me 30 years to get my act together and learn to be responsible, to find my focus.  I'm still working on it (today I'm fighting the lazy- but I have a project due and allowed myself to be lazy yesterday, so I better get a move on).

Breathe, trust.  The kids are alright.

Buddha in a Box

“All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become.”

This alchemy of the soul is a two edged sword, and one that I am struggling with.  What we think we become.  On the positive side, I have thought myself into being smart, somewhat responsible, creative, generous, tolerant.  On the negative side, I have thought myself into being unattractive, unfit, somewhat irresponsible, and stressed.  If I negate one- let's say I cancel out the negative thoughts because someone would say "there, there, you know that is not true..." then does that not also cancel out the positive ones?  Do they need to be balanced or not?  If I think my way out of the negative ones- change my perception of truth by changing my mental image, does another negative emerge in order to achieve balance?  (otherwise, could I just think myself into being perfect?  But no one is perfect, so some sort of balance must be obtained).

And then each of these are binary within themselves.  For example, the unattractive thing.  I know I'm not totally a troll, but I know I'm not a desperate housewife- problem is, I think I should be one, and I want to be one, but putting all the time and effort into that (the desired positive result) seems like vanity.  A waste of time (my time is at a premium, always) and money (I have to talk myself into a box of hair dye once every 2 months.  No way am I going to drop a fortune on a salon treatment- I don't view our lifestyle as privileged enough for such things).  Yet, is this laziness?  Is it just that I am to much of a slacker to discipline myself to exercise and eat right?  Or is it the truth of my valuing myself- that I am 'waiting' to be beautiful (after reaching a goal, like 'after I drop x pounds, after I can dye my hair, after what?') instead of maximizing it right now?  Sometimes we put our lives on hold to much, worried about the ship coming in instead of enjoying the dock.  Is this just a passing condition, born of winter and another birthday, that will fade?  I've had my years of radiance in the past- and my years of 'oh my god getta paper bag NOW!'  I think we all do, we just don't see it in each other as much.

A truth I know about me is focus.  On an everyday basis, I operate like the butterfly the manz says I am.  I go from one thing to the next, a bit of this, a bit of that.  When I have to focus my attention into becoming one thing- smart for class, creative for a project, diligent for work- I can be like a laser.  Nothing stops me once I get started (starting is the hard part- I'm like a car parked on a steep hill.  When the brakes are on, they're on- let them off and I don't know when to stop rolling).  I have chosen to turn that energy into knowledge and art instead of beauty, finances, bodybuilding or competitive tiddlywinks.  I need to learn to be ok with that, or learn how to move the spotlight so that it sometimes shines in other places.

Chinaberry Tree

This is a Chinaberry tree, between the shed and the garden over at the farm.  I had never seen one before- I just knew Chinaberries from the hard dried up fruits used to make necklaces. I was rather surprised that they were all soft and squashy, but that explains how they would be strung- I would hate having to drill all those tiny holes!  I started reading about this tree, it is a relative of mahogany, grown for timber and here as an ornamental that has become invasive.  The fruits ferment on the tree, and birds get drunk off of them- they do not hurt the birds but are quite poisonous to humans.  They must actually have to be ingested I suppose- here I am thinking of generations of people stringing necklaces and getting their hands in their mouths before washing them.  When I googled it though, I only found cases of dogs being poisoned by them.  Anyway, this is curious because the chinaberry is thought to bring good health and rapid growth- a cure balanced by a curse.  Chinaberries were used to string religious beads- rosaries, prayer bracelets, necklaces- in many different cultures.  I'm thinking now of going and collecting some, making a something- but I'll be certain to wash my hands and keep it away from the dogs, no fear.

The 'Tail' of Two Cakes- the manz birthday!

The clown cake

The Crack Cake



Clown cake with coco damage-

Today is the birthday of the beloved Manz- and thank-you to all who sent cards!  (I am the loser who did not manage a card... ) Anyway- we headed out to the farm for birthday dinner.  As usual, it was good- country ribs, meatloaf, peas, beans, corn, sweet potato souffle (for me!), biscuits and cake.  His mom brought out the top cake- candles ablaze (the manz is old enough that we have switched to numbers instead of individual candles.  No fire hazards for us!) and we all sang.  The cake was chocolate chocolate, and covered with polka dots and clowns.  (You know the song- from the 60's- He's a clown, that Charlie Brown) anyway, it was beautiful but there was a twinge of disappointment from the manz.  He had been expecting a crack cake.

Crack cake is southern-style chocolate cake, which is not chocolate but a yellow cake with homemade boiled chocolate icing.  Traditionally it has several layers, with the icing between each layer.  The icing is put on hot enough to be liquidy, then cools to this marvelous thin, super chocolate, slightly crunchy fudgy goodness.  The way his mom makes the cake, she usually ends up with the top part cracked by accident- thus the name crack cake. (It is also super addictive).   This time she had an icing mishap - and also misplaced the third layer somewhere- and the icing puddled all around the cake, sticking it to the plate.  The finished product was deemed unsuitable for a main birthday cake (even with the decorative scary clown on top) and was put aside.  She did bring it out, and we did get to take it home (Hooray!  He better hide it from me though-).   

After dinner Charles and I went for a walk, out to the bee hives, with the doggs.  We came back and were talking in the living room.... all that exercise had apparently made CoCo hungry.  Karen discovered him up on the dining room table having a go at the clown cake.  As you can see, he gobbled up most of the icing and some of the top layer of the cake- and several stray polka dots.  Now chocolate is not good for dogs, and coco is a little thing.... he will have a belly-ache for sure later on!

Happy Birthday Mr. Manz, your wife loves you!


Mother's Birthday- what we did in my dream

Last night I had a dream about Glosser Brothers department store and Johnstown.  Mother and I were on the ground level looking at shoes and trying to find a shirt for Daddy for Father's Day (even though it was winter- there was a sale)  Collar size 13 1/2 or maybe 18? the number is blurry (Mother- is that right?  If so why in the world do I remember that?)

Anyway, I was home for a visit and Mother was telling me that I should respect Johnstown and the memories of it.  I was trying to explain that I didn't disrespect Johnstown, I just preferred places that were not-Johnstown.    I traded my boots (high heeled fabulous boots that I would love to own in real life) for dark brown rainbow sandals.  Then I woke up.  (We did find a shirt- it was not white, not pale yellow, but somewhere in between).

And this morning I am nostalgic, and it is Mother's 90th birthday, and no one is left in Johnstown- which makes me sad in an abstract way.  Johnstown is our home town, even though we are scattered across the everywhere- but it is not Johnstown as it is now, but the ghost of how it was.  Street cars and steel mills, blast furnaces lighting the sky, dirty snow downtown and the clean ice of the mountains.  Glosser Brothers with its many floors- the basement had bargains and groceries, the first floor perfume, shoes, on up to clothing, housewares, and hardware stashed somewhere towards the top.  Old metal escalators with steps like teeth- one person at a time, no rows here. Painted windows for Halloween, decorated to the hilt for Christmas (though not quite as elaborate as Penn Traffic's, and nothing like the big Kaufmans and Macy's in Pittsburgh).   Department stores with restaurants or at least a coffee shop, and the mezzanine where you could look out at the crowds below.  Revolving doors. So much more fun than Walmart, but actually walmartish in a way- everything could be had at one place.  I miss the old department stores.

I miss Mother, too.  I wish I could teleport or time travel or just magic up a way to sit and talk and see everything- as it was- one last time.  But that is what dreams are for, and I am gifted with those (I can hear the way the city snow sounds when you step on it- the top dark layer of cinders and salt is crunchy, like a shell.  The snow underneath has been partially melted and refrozen, it is hard and makes a mean snow/ice ball).

Today Mother is safe in Texas, and I am imagining her watching the deer, talking to Sue, having lobster and the elaborate strawberry cake-thing.    The rest of us, we go about our lives in our own places, we are the trees that remember the roots.

Happy Birthday Mother!  Thank-you for making us the people we are today- all of us.  We love you!

Manz Treasure and the Snow Day

Turrello thinks snow tastes delicious- if you're not out in it.

Bear can't decided to be out or in.  She'd make a great sled doggy.

Max chooses IN.  Even though he gets to wear his stylish pink coat outside- he still looks miserable.

Me and coffee and work-at-home.  No snowdays for online school!

Manz finding treasure in scrapped computers.

Today was a snow day.  So is tomorrow- we have a ton of snow with ice on top.  I love it, but I know we will have to make up the time at school (boo) and it will toss the exam schedule off (headache) and I will regret losing Spring Break or whenever days.....but still...I love it!   We had breakfast and watched cartoons, I worked fairly steadily all day on all my online courses.  I've had to switch to the MS program in technology, but that is ok~ we get to the places we need to go.   Manz watched assorted movies (spyish and an odd Dracula movie with Leslie Nielsen in it) and took apart salvage computers.  We make more money off of scrapping than selling in the winter- aok with me, and good for the environment.  I like this all stay-at-home work-at-home stuff.... I could get real used to it!