Me, Myself and Memories

Updates from Noreen Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

• 

  Noreen 5:06 am on January 30, 2015 Permalink  

  Real Questions – But Not Concerns 

  Last week I got together with friend, Lorraine.  Lorraine worked for me in the late 1980s.  She decided to be a stay at home mom when that is what her teenage daughter needed her to be.  We had lost touch, though we live in the same town.  I caught a Facebook post where Lorraine’s daughter, who is now a grandmother, was wishing her mom a birthday greeting.  I messaged the daughter and asked if she would share her mom’s phone number with me.  Since that time Lorraine and I have gotten together several times over coffee to get caught up with what has happened during the last years.

  As we visited back and forth to each of our homes, our interests with quilting and fabric crafts were on paralleled paths.  Lorraine’s husband passed five years ago and her home is now a two bedroom apartment, very similar in size to what Dennis and I enjoy in our home.  Lorraine enjoys using the antique furniture that was her mother’s and those that she and her husband collected.

  Last week I took Lorraine along to the Old Alley Quilt shop as the last of my pieced quilt tops had now been transformed into a finish quilt, ready to be hemmed.  As Lorraine and I checked out all the goodies in the store, in passing she ask me who would be receiving the quilt to be used in their home. Without hesitation I remarked that I had no idea who might want it or need it.  The quilting is much like physical and occupational therapy for me, and I know that the time and resources I put into the pieced top would be worthless if it were lying in a box, still just a pieced top.  The ready-to-use quilt stands a better chance of being wanted or used.  Thus goes the results of all my therapy.

  After Lorraine and I got back from Sherburn and the quilt shop, Lorraine asked me in for coffee.  As we were visiting, I admired all the beautiful sets of china and pieces of glassware that the antique china cabinets held.  They held memories of Lorraine’s grandmother, her mother, and her husband’s family. Lorraine being the only one left of that generation in either family has a treasure trove of various china cups to choose from when having coffee guests.  I asked her, if her daughter and her two daughters were looking forward to serving coffee to guests from this assortment in their homes.  Lorraine shared that her daughter and granddaughters had never cared for the china and glassware as it was not able to be washed in a dishwasher and it was too fussy to handle.

  Here we were.  Both of us having more than we need for our day-to day-lives, each with a different type of excess.  Neither one of us concerned to the point that we will do anything about it going forward.  We don’t need to know what the morrow brings.  We don’t need to know what that next chapter of our lives will contain.  That may very well be the last chapter of the mystery that my life has been.  I am too busy working on many more chapters, more memories and most likely a few more items that may be cranked out as I continue doing my physical and occupational therapy to maintain my quality of life.

  I absolutely know that my new and added knee and shoulder titanium parts need to have me continue using the rest of the “total me” to stay mobile, or it has all been done for naught.

  Yesterdays are gone, tomorrows are not yet mine.  Today is all that my good Lord has given me and that is quite the gift.  When my day is over and I lay my head down, I know I did the best I could . . . but I also ask Him each night that if given a tomorrow I might try to do just a bit better.

   
• 

  Noreen 5:05 am on January 29, 2015 Permalink  

  Fleeting Thoughts: 

  This is a great summary of how I have always felt about my life and how I have lived it and will continue to live it.

  “Life is an opportunity, benefit from it.
  Life is beauty, admire it.
  Life is a dream, realize it.
  Life is a challenge, meet it.
  Life is a duty, complete it.
  Life is a game, play it.
  Life is a promise, fulfill it.
  Life is sorrow, overcome it.
  Life is a song, sing it.
  Life is a struggle, accept it.
  Life is a tragedy, confront it.
  Life is an adventure, dare it.
  Life is luck, make it.
  Life is life, fight for it.”

  author: Mother Teresa
   
• 

  Noreen 4:32 am on January 28, 2015 Permalink  

  Oh my gosh, it is so gray out. The sun would just be the ticket to enjoy the temps that are 40+. The amazing thing I heard today was that weathermen were being taken to task as the east coast snowfall was not as severe as forecast. People just never cease to amaze and disappoint.

   
• 

  Noreen 6:22 am on January 27, 2015 Permalink  

  Started income tax for 2014. Yuk!

   
• 

  Noreen 1:27 am on January 26, 2015 Permalink  

  It’s time 

  When Orlin and I farmed in Boon Lake Township, we pretty much took the lead of my parents as to what to do and when.  We raised Mallard ducks for butchering in the dead of winter.  We butchered them in cold weather as all new feathers were pretty well filled out to the max for their warmth.  Prior to that, the itty bitty feathers just breaking through the skin were called pin feathers and each and every one would have to be plucked out by hand.  The larger feathers were able to be pulled out by grabbing multiple ones and giving them a yank after the duck had been scalded in hot water.  One drake and several hens were left to run so we could collect the eggs for hatching out the next years batch for the freezer.

  Being the farm kid that I am, this springtime is the time of the year I would be getting on thick canvas gloves and deciding which of the laying hens had developed chucking tendencies over the winter months.  The egg laying was no longer their mantra.  These hens just wanted to sit on eggs and become clucks, thus keeping eggs hot enough to eventually hatch.  There was no denying which hens were the target.  I would get anywhere near the nest they were sitting in and they puffed up to three times their normal size and peck with becks that you swore they had sharpened.

  The held over ducks had a separate area in the hen house during the winter so collecting the eggs would be easy to do.  Early eggs were discarded as the timing of the hatched ducking did not want to happen during the worst of the winter.  Orlin made a spot in the dairy barn for several wooden crates that were just large enough for a straw nest to be rounded out when filled with a dozen eggs plus a fluffed out cluck.  Thereby, was our incubation area.  Three of the clucks were captured and taken to the wooden boxes where each box had 8 to 10 hen eggs in it for the clucks to begin getting cozy with, and this would be their home for the next while before we put the intended target of duck eggs into the nests.  Each of the three crates were far apart from each other as to not entice a cluck to visit any crate but their own.  To achieve that, each cluck had a twine sting tied to an ankle that was long enough for them to get out of the crate and reach the ample water and feed that each of them had for themselves.  Orlin put up several heat lamps to make sure the clucks were warm.  Sound cruel?  That is how it was done.

  When my Mom gave the word, I started saving the duck eggs.  I had a window of 10 days to save up enough duck eggs for each of the three clucks to begin sitting on.  After the ten days, the eggs would no longer be deemed fertile.  On the tenth day the hen eggs the clucks had learned to nurture were removed and swapped out with the duck eggs.  Putting fresh water and plenty of feed was done during the time Orlin and I were in the barn for milking the dairy heard.  There never was a fear that Carrie or Kevin would bother the incubation area as the kids were not fond of the laying hens, let alone the clucks that were pecking monsters.

  Long about the 26th day, we would begin checking the nests as the earliest eggs could show signs of hatching.  Again, the canvas gloves worn with heavy jackets that covered our arms were used to gently lift the cluck off to see if any of the eggs were showing signs that the baby ducks were pecking their way out into the real world.  Amazingly, the percentage of ducks that would hatch was quite high.  As the baby ducks got themselves clear of the cast off egg shell, we transported them into a small pen complete with heat lamps to keep them warm.  It didn’t take long for them to get the hang of the water and feed as we would take them, one by one, and dip their little beaks into the offerings.  At this point Carrie and Kevin were all about checking the ducklings out when they were in the barn with us.  They loved holding the little fur balls of yellow and black in their hands.

  It was a routine that was repeated several times to have each of the cluck hatch out at least two batches of ducklings.  In the spring of the year, the pen for the quickly-developing ducks was surrounded by a fence to keep them safe.  There was a high demand in the early winter seasons of people who would purchase dressed and frozen ducks that were ready for the oven.  It was a good little side income right before Christmas.

  

  Just at arms length . . . I never lack for busy work to keep my fingers nimble and keep my family guessing.

  What prompted me to think of this today: January 25th, 2015?  I have been making use of these colder icy winter days to try out some of my crafting items.  With a lower back problem that prompts me to move from area to area within the home, I can be found either in the basement sewing room, in the west porch sitting in Great Grandma Laura’s rocking chair reading, or moving from the sofa to a side chair with threads and yarns.  The very busy area around the spool cabinet reminded me of an incubation area of what is yet to be turned out as I hatch out finished projects.  Oh yes, for the love of all things that involve puzzling through patterns, checking out correct gauges of crochet stitches and counting out squares for counted cross stitch patterns to make sense, you never know what I will hatch out, less the twine string tied to one of my ankles.

  In life, please remember to give and have no memory of it, or take and remember it always.

   
• 

  Noreen 3:59 am on January 25, 2015 Permalink  

  Road trip today! A brand new sight for a trade show that was just a bit up the highway. For Dennis it is always interesting to see what the price may be of items that he has and then will take to a trade show later in February. I was able to take in a visit with family along the way. It’s always special to catch up on a one on one, eye to eye, toe to toe. As we drove, the fields seem to turn black right before our eyes as the temperature of 43 took the remaining snow to task. A great day, but then . . . there is no place like home.

   
• 

  Noreen 4:01 am on January 24, 2015 Permalink  

  Using What is At Hand – Priceless 

  

  This last fall I knew I wanted to use this straw wreath I had wired together some time ago. As I was flipping through idea books in my sewing room, I found this wonderful counted cross stitch pattern. Upon completion, I put several layers of lightweight quilting batting under the finished project and sewed it onto cardboard from an empty saltine cracker box. The cross stitch project was mounted from the back of the wreath and secured. The ribbon came about from Kevin and Kersten sharing their stash. Having drawn a pattern of gingerbread men, I hunted out my roll of soft copper that I have used in the past making signs for Dennis that he has taken to his gun trade shows. Adding some bows for the fellows and stick pins with red heads for buttons, I deemed the gingerbread men the perfect fit on the straw. This will be added to my stashes for Christmas 2015.

   
• 

  Noreen 4:56 am on January 23, 2015 Permalink  

  Had a busy day of errands. Where did the time go, as today a trip to the motor vehicle department was needed to keep the wheels moving under me for another year. I take one prescription drug and that three month supply needed to be picked up. Shut the front door! This three month supply was 4.2 times more expensive than the last. Cheaper gas prices, but the drug companies are making up for it. As Dennis says “What are you going to do about it?” I did make a call and had a rep of Blue Cross Blue Shield do some checking into it. It was my way of making sure that a human error had not been made and that all of us may be getting the shaft.

  Life is still on Stauffer.

   
• 

  Noreen 1:16 am on January 22, 2015 Permalink  

  Wow – That Was Hot 

  We had a great morning taking off the snow from last night.  There was a bit of ice under the two inches of the beautiful, clean stuff.  Nevertheless, the job was finished, and with temps in the high twenties, the bare concrete is showing in many spots.

  There was a bag of Bear Creek Chili mix in the pantry and that sounded like just the ticket for supper.  I always add extra ingredients: browned ground beef, onions, garlic and black beans.  As I was stirring in the can of black beans, the label jumped out at me “Black Chili Beans” and they were processed in Chili sauce.  Oh my gosh.  The mix already had quite a bit of spices and I have always felt it was spicy enough.  After everything had simmered a bit, I took a spoon and did a taste test . . . my lips were burning before I got the spoonful of chili swallowed. This did not bode well.  My first thought was that there was no way I could throw out all these ingredients what with ground beef being so expensive.

  I hit Google and why was I not surprised that there was a solution?  By adding table sugar a bit at a time it toned down the hot spice taste.  My supper and lips were saved.

   
• 

  Noreen 2:19 am on January 21, 2015 Permalink  

  Checking Out Days Gone By 

  

  A one on one and Megan was checking Grandpa out to see who would cave first. Megan is now 11 and still has Grandpa wrapped around her little finger.

  

  Nicholas on Grandpa’s lap was a natural. Now at age 7, Nicholas has the natural ability to tell Grandpa all he ever needs to know, as he many times starts his sentences with “Actually, . . . “