I am a retired 44-year veteran of the Real Estate Assessment field. As with real estate assessing and how it applies to real estate taxes, one can make many acquaintances, but not many real friends. It was a great career choice.
It has been nearly 10 years since I reclaimed my home and my real passions within my home. I enjoy it more each day and tip my hat to those who I left behind.
Each day I try to stretch myself with the use of my computer as it relates to this site and using it to print out labels for quilts for trying to incorporate photos into my sewing. Life is so full and I know that I have room for more.
I began taking a few things out of the potting shed. Our small lawnmowers are always moved to the car garage for easy access. Before I knew it, Snuggles was on the bagging unit. He stayed there for the entire ride from the potting shed to the car garage. His very own hammock.
Dennis in the far east of our acre.
Things are greening out nicely.
We slept in this morning . . . like 8:45. By 2:30 this afternoon, we had quite a bit of yard work done. The next door neighbor’s fire pit took care of many small branches and the leaves from several of the gardens. Black Walnut tree wisps burn similar to dry straw. One more day of raking under the huge Oak and Maple trees will allow for the perennials to take over.
Dennis and I are “Steady Eddies.” No speed records are claimed here on Stauffer, just consistent movement.
A good day. I have been on the road three days out of four and am looking forward to staying on Stuaffer for the remaining days of this week. As of today, my friend Lorraine will not be visiting Mankato for any additional treatments for the Pancreatic cancer. Being in her home and as comfortable as possible is what she is seeking and I also want that for her.
The thunder is rolling overhead and more rain may be near. I do like the sound of thunder . . . as long as there are no threats of severe weather with it.
It was road trip day to the huge city of Stewart. Sister, Elvera, is going to have a 78th birthday tomorrow. We enjoyed a great visit and the lunch that she served was quite nice also.
Stopping in Fairfax to see Kevin allowed for getting a good stretch before motoring on home.
We sure are proud of these beauties. Who would have known that tulip bulbs from a previous Valentines day would enjoy Stauffer Avenue.
About eight miles north of St. James the skies opened and a heavy rainfall gave the windshield wipers a run for their money. By the time I did get to St. James, the rain resembled a good spring shower. Man, oh man is our front yard green and lush. When I drove into the driveway, I couldn’t wait to tuck the car away and snap a photo of the red Fairfax Tulips that opened up among the cactus.
When I did get settled enough to come into the house, it sure smelled good. There was a Butter Pecan cake finishing up in the oven. Dennis was keeping a good eye on it. Apparently he had such a bad day, the only thing he could think of was to offset it by digging out a box cake and setting to the task.
Doing errands in town, his little red pickup rebelled and cracked a hub on the passenger’s side. He got it out to the shop and had the owner give him a ride home.
It is just about supper time and all is back on track. The repair check has been delivered, the little red pickup is back in its garage and the cake looks like it is going to be an excellent dessert.
Rain or shine, there are always many things to be thankful for here on Stauffer Avenue.
Webster tells us that the word “trade” is used to describe buying, selling, bartering, and occupations that usually requires manual labor. Oh my gosh! No wonder my tool box has sprung hinges so as not to be able to close the latch. I have put any or all of those definitions in play through my entire life, and many times on a day-to-day basis. From birth it’s as if we have tools of the trade ready to fire up at will. On second thought, I believe the gene pool has a lot to do with it and how we hone those gene pool tools throughout our lives.
During my childhood holding my own with an older sister and two younger brothers was an ongoing challenge. Elvera is six years older and you would have thought it was more like twenty years. There was indeed a pecking order. Calvin is three years younger than me and Michael is six years younger than me. When you put the difference of nine years and twelve years between the boys and Elvera there was no way she could be spared to contend with the boys as she was able to be Dad’s right hand for farm errands. Mom was a hands-on farm wife whether in the fields or in the barns and that put the target on me for taking care of the boys when just the three of us were left on the door yard. I bought the cooperation of the boys by being on board with some extra cookies while they played in the large sand box. Dad was a great welder and we had the best swing set in the entire neighborhood – complete with the two man horse-type ride. God forbid that I could squeeze in any time to ride our bike down the driveway and back without coming back to screaming boys, sometimes with a little blood showing, acting as if there was not a thing in the world to occupy them. I managed to barter my way out of being the irresponsible caregiver by giving them rides on the back bumper of our bike. No matter what the boys got into there was only one acceptable outcome as far as my parents were concerned: no one was to tattle tale and nothing that would require one of us being taken to the doctor. Surprisingly, your siblings can give you a very broad window on what your life will hold as you go forward: the good, the bad, and the ugly of it all. One does not have a choice but to go forward and take those tools and life’s lessons to be all that you can be.
In my early teen years I was thrilled to have connections in the retail world. Elvera worked at the S & L Clothing store in Hutchinson as a sales person and she gave me high marks in a referral for a part time job. Two weeks before that Easter, Elvera picked me and my brown paper bag lunch up and we went to work together. Five days a week from nine to five I wore an over-sized, over-stuffed Easter Bunny costume, greeting customers and handing out mints from my Easter basket and learning to scurry away quickly if any one child pulled my tail more than once. I was selling the wonderful atmosphere of the S & L store. I received five dollars a day and thought I had truly arrived in the world of opportunities honing tools for the future.
My forte was not selling in the retail world as a young woman. I found I was really good at a trade that included fluffy flannel diapers, burp bibs, and chubby little fingers that would hold onto my hair for dear life as I would straddle the little body on one hip doing household and farm chores. This was truly an occupation that required manual labor and I loved it. I mentioned earlier on that from birth there are tools available. I had observed my Mom’s skills as I was growing up and I had managed to pull a household together with the motif of early attic and household hand-me-downs that I and the kids’ dad was very proud of. The canning cellar had row upon row of gleaming jars, the stone crock held sauerkraut and the root cellar had enough carrots, onions and potatoes to hold us over the winter. The rest of the story is I was not fast enough to dodge a mouth full of rice cereal as it spewed out of a little mouth that didn’t have a single tooth in it. Or how about liquid vitamins that were given only an hour prior found their way down the front of my shirt, followed by big blue innocent eyes that crinkled just a bit as they met mine. I played softball all through grade school at the Renville County District 34 rural school, and as a farm girl I excelled in Physical Education during my high school years, but for the life of me I could not keep up with a toddler running loose after pulling off their training pants and feeling the breeze on their bare hiny.
Years went by way too swiftly and I continued in my trade of choice, growing my skills as my children grew. I once again tried selling as I thought it would supplement our income, but Fuller Brush was never going to have their stock skyrocket through my sales. The demo products did not go to waste as the spit and polish never seemed to be finished in our home.
Many hours were logged as I put forth manual labor on the sewing machine making clothes for the kids, pajamas for the entire family, sewing curtains, and lo and behold the menial task of sewing carpet rags whenever I had a chance. In the late ’60s it came time to put the treadle Singer Sewing Machine aside as an end table and move on into the 21st century with a new portable Sears and Roebuck electric machine. The kids always sported the very best that McCall’s Pattern Company could put out. Some day when Kevin and Kersten raid my attic and my cedar chest is opened, much like a treasure chest, Kersten will get a peek at some of the clothes that were sewn, including a set of shirt and pants Kevin wore in his early grade school days. I can’t believe what I was thinking when I embroidered the Mexican motif on the set, but I sold him on the idea that this was a good thing and he was smiles from ear to ear while wearing them. Yup, he made Mama proud. In the early ’70s farm-based moms were very innovative and creative. Now the Sears Roebuck sewing machine is taking second fiddle to a new Bernina sewing machine. While the Bernina is working on an embroidery project, the Sears sewing machine is right there for doing the piecing of yet another project.
Lots of water over the dam and many W-2 form jobs later, I still list my all time favorite and most successful trade as that of
being a mom – though I have had to tweak the applications a bit when mothering adults. For the most part I observe and hold my tongue. For the part that is not the “most,” I have spoken up, sharing my beliefs and thoughts. I can attest to the fact that sometimes I have had to live with the reactions of my actions. I can only admit to the fact that I am the person who loves them unconditionally with history that may be of comfort or help as I see a rerun of what I have lived through in the past. My Mom worked her whiles with me throughout her 93 years, and I too, plan on staying the course. Carrie, just turned 50, and Kevin in his forties, have spouses who stand beside them and I am very proud that each couple works as their very own team. It does make me very proud to see my kids interact with their spouses, showering them with loving respect.
There are some words that I ran across reading bedtime stories to the kids that have stayed close in my memory: “If there ever comes a day when we cannot be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever.” The author: Winnie the Pooh. That silly old bear was very wise. The life’s trade that I chose has infinite benefits that far out way any legally drafted unions. The trade of being a mother will never be downsized, never be outsourced and a mom’s love will never be out of stock due to lack of sales. As I continue with the many chapters that remain in the saga of my trade, I still have skills to hone as now there are grandchildren and grandpuppies that need me to continue being who I am, not withstanding my age, my arthritis and my cognizance. I dare not forget that with any job worth having, you never know when a surprise job performance evaluation could pop up. A bad review could cost me dearly in the hug department.
Please remember in life, give and have no remembrance of it, or take and remember it always.
As heavy as the air is, it would seem that just a pin prick into the clouds could bring a rain shower. I was sure with all the storms around us, rain wouldn’t be hard to come by.
Traveling to Mankato with a friend for a medical appointment, the air was filled with dust mile after mile. So . . . they say the farmers are three weeks ahead of time in their crop preparation and planting. It doesn’t seem to make a difference as the growing season progresses. Farmers who have spring fever, do not settle for anything less than bragging rights as to the number of acres tilled and planted at their coffee hangouts.
I could not take it any longer. My heavy winter quilt went out to the clothesline for a bit of freshening and a lighter weight one is now on the bed. There may be cooler nights ahead, but that is a chance I will take.
Slowly I am making strides in taking out some of the winter dust bunnies.
When Dennis and I were enjoying the morning coffee, it began as chit chat and before we knew it we were on our way to Mankato. The quest was for pedicures. We have used the same shop for several years with much satisfaction. We when walked in, we were recognized by the Vietnamese owner. Luck would have it as there were two chairs available. Other clients are shown to the wall of choices in nail enamel; she knows for us it is “no color.”
Dennis has feet that went through a lot while in Korea, mostly being wet 24/7 in cold conditions. My titanium knee don’t allow for the correct arc for me to do a good job of trimming my toes. So . . . the older ones on Stauffer don’t bowl, shoot darts or belong to card clubs for instant gratification. We treat our tootsies so they feel wonderful and carry us well. The massage and kneading of the legs isn’t all bad either. The very first pedicure in times past and Dennis talked me into it. One of the best road dates ever.
True to myself, I am in either my fourth or fifth change of clothing today. This morning, the air was chilly and I needed my long sleeve and leg PJs to have coffee with Dennis in the porch. When Dennis left for a clinic appointment I went in and put on jeans and a long sleeve flannel shirt as the intent was to get the bathroom windows done complete with the screens. The sun was bright from the east and it gave me a chance to do a once over on the windows, go inside and do the windows to find out where the streaks were . . . inside or outside? It is spring and so came the small gnats and other flying bugs. I don’t want them to find their way into the open window that doesn’t have a screen on. I couldn’t believe how warm I got and in I went for a light cotton tee shirt. The temps were reaching the mid 60s.
I happened across a garbage can in the potting shed full of the pink-looking gravel that needed to be scattered onto the garden off of the patio. Hmm, it looks a lot like the rock that they use when they seal-coat streets. Did I mention Dennis has connections with the city crew? The house plants that have been in the porch, are now outside by the Koi pond. I dipped water from the pond and gave them a goodly amount of water to get them in the swing of spring. The extra weight of their pots wouldn’t hurt to keep them from tipping over in these strong winds.
About noon, I realized my friend Lorraine had prescriptions that needed to be picked up and delivered, plus I needed to run some errands for Dennis and me up town. I checked out the front of my tee shirt and it sure looked like I had been digging around in the dusty potting shed and playing with plants. A fresh up of the face and arms, a clean button shirt and I was off.
It was about 2:30 when I got home with the afternoon temps at 75. Off came the “up town button shirt” that just seemed way too warm for the remainder of the day.
I might add that today, Dennis has had on a tee shirt with a suede shirt over that. He has been comfortable in it all day. My internal thermostat has a very difficult time keeping me comfortable. I do not like to feel unduly warm as I am moving about. Yes, my dear Dennis, I have asked my doctor about it and there is nothing medically wrong with me. This body in motion, that wants to stay in motion, knows how to stay comfortable. Doing laundry of multiple swaps of clothing is a good trade off in the scheme of things.
I feel I can wash windows and do additional spring housecleaning anytime. A little bit here and a little bit there and it does get done. Tackling spring cleaning of the pickup garage and the car garage . . . when the spirit is willing, the older ones on Stauffer Avenue had better strike.
Everything out onto the driveway is the only way to go about it. There was some sorting, some organization and God bless our neighbor’s burning pit. If there is no emotional attachment for some items that have been collected or left here, on the fire they went. We had a pile of branches from the winds that kept the fire going for as long as we needed. The shop vac is now sporting a brand new filter after doing a great job of all things that like to float in the air: cat fuzz and silty dirt that was drug in during the entire winter on the tires. There is no point in trying to sweep the silt. It will take flight and land where you least want it.
We are nearing the supper hour and both of us hope we can make it without our heads hitting the table in between bites. There is no stopping us once we get started, but what a sweet feeling.
By the way, the Koi are swimming laps in the pond. A great day here on Stauffer.
The winds come every day and I wonder what will blow in. Dennis is forging ahead with spring plans. Yesterday the Koi pond was filled with water. This morning the strong north winds had blown some of the water flowing from the pump in frozen art forms on the wall of the potting shed.
I have not done any yard work as yet. The past weeks have been mixed with warm temps and rain. Now I see that the perennials are peeking through, so I will pass on taking any leaves out of the gardens until I can see where I am stepping.
In the meantime, I am contemplating a new project in the sewing studio. Taking my time always pays off in the end. Did I know I would have such excess of time for decisions?
About the time I retired seven years ago, the dynamics between my daughter and I changed. The active relationship I had enjoyed with her for her first 43 years was no longer bringing her happiness. She was a “stay at home mom” and I was looking forward to spending relaxing visits and not the kind that had to be planned around my work schedule. I wondered for some time what would fill the void.
The time we spent away from Stauffer Avenue on Saturday is the answer: family. I have extended myself to strengthen the relationships that I enjoy with my aunts. What woman doesn’t enjoy whiling away a phone conversation with a fellow female conspirator: recipes, patterns in crocheting and quilting, the latest easy way to clean the home and sharing the best authors of mystery novels. I have found these women to be priceless. Saturday was the funeral of Aunt Dorothy. At the age of 95, she could carry on a phone conversation that may very well last 45 minutes. The funeral gathering was full of family. Celebrating Dorothy’s life led to connecting with many of my cousins as well as two of my aunts.
I wonder, would I have recognized the opportunity to help my friend Lorraine as she begins her path with pancreatic cancer if not for having dealt with a change in the dynamics within the family? I am what I have always been and I am enjoying my life.