Me, Myself and Memories

Updates from June, 2015 Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

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  Noreen 12:20 am on June 25, 2015 Permalink  

  A Gathering 

  I am posting early today, as we have places to go and people to see.  Once a year, Dennis’ fellow Korean Veterans host a banquet with their annual meeting in Mankato.  The chapter that Dennis belongs to is called the Frozen Chosen and they meet monthly for noon lunch with a short business meeting.  There is a variety of ages of men and women who attend: Dennis went to Korea when he was 18.  The summer events in the area that have parades, more than welcome their float that these fellows have put together to honor the time they spent in Korea fighting the good fight.

  The sad part of recalling the years that our fellows served in Korea, it has never been called the Korean War.  It has always been referred to as a “Police Action.” The powers that be have been little shysters – then as well as now.

  

  Memories and remains of Korea. A time that
  often is forgotten in day-to-day life, but has contributed
  to the fellow who these belong to.

  Dennis recalls how time spent on the 39th parallel and with Minnesota on the 49th, the weather was not that much different.   In other words, they froze for months on end.  Dennis recalls his shoes were often soaked through for days on end.  If there were any chance to gain an extra pair of socks, it was never passed by.

  When Dennis realized that this group of fellows got together only 45 miles away, it opened a door to make, or in some cases reunite, friends. How wonderful to get out of the small town comfort zone and broaden horizons.  It isn’t all chit chat about the time served.  Finding out how others have spent their lives after serving their country is a good thing.

  We are heading to Mankato for a night of fellowship for the boys who had to grow up fast to be the men who came home to find jobs and grow their own families.  Life is good.  Often, as Dennis and I sit and enjoy our coffee, there comes a memory that Dennis shares. It isn’t always a sad or a bad one.  These fellows who served together became a family.

   
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  Noreen 6:18 am on June 9, 2015 Permalink
  Tags: Cambridge Health Care Facility, Knee   

  What a Run 

  The morning hours beckoned me to the far east garden.  There were plants there that had not been tended to since they made their appearance in May.  It is very hard to take a hoe in hand for the early weeds as you never quite remember where that certain perennial’s location was last fall right before the freezing temperatures.

  I had read my Facebook messages yesterday and I knew that my lifelong friend Sharon was now in the Cambridge Health Care Facility for rehab on a brand new knee.  Sharon was in the forefront of my thoughts as I pecked away one square foot of dirt at a time.  Whether tending the acre that Dennis and I have, or a window box, I doubt that I would be in any shape for either if I had not had my knees replaced 11 years ago, just about this time in June.

  Just as for Sharon, it was not an easy decision for me to make for a surgical procedure that would take me right down to the core of my being.  Bone on bone for both knees made the decision to have both knees done at the same time not a difficult one.  Why go through the time off work, the pain, and the rehab twice.  Just as in giving birth to my children, the pain of the knee replacements is not remembered.

  What I do remember is how much I wanted to wake without discomfort, how much I wanted to spend more time with six-month-old Megan before I cried out “Uncle.”  Standing and walking until I reached my goal was only a dream.  My spirits could very easily take a spiral.  Now it is such a blessing to enjoy my coffee in the porch with the morning song birds serenading me.  I don’t have to wonder if I can physically stay on my feet to garden until I don’t want to.  I know I can. These last 11 years have given me a great run of physically mobility.  Let’s hear it for Titanium!

  That far east garden did get done – one square foot at a time.  With black dirt around the plants being the desired end result, I spread Preen down for continued weed control.  The most difficult task was pulling enough garden hose the 260 foot length to water down the Preen.  If not watered down, it is all for nothing.

  Supper needed to be thought about as I tucked all the tools away.  I had all afternoon to think about what to fix, but who can think about cooking when the outdoors offers much more fun.

  I hope that Sharon will find the same success in sporting a new knee as I have, and yes, Gail, your mom will forgive you for putting her in a nursing home-type facility.  Sharon will work hard to make sure it is for a short stay only.

   
• 

  Noreen 2:19 am on May 12, 2015 Permalink  

  Cools Temperatures Rely on Warm Memories 

  Yesterday was Mother’s Day 2015.  The day was delightful and busy as only days can be with family getting together.

  Just as Grandpa Dennis predicted, Megan and Nicholas loved getting to know the newest feline on Stauffer, Snuggles.  They arrived from Eden Prairie and there was a dash out to the garage porch for them to take a quick peek to see which of the cats were awake and who was still sleeping in their beds.

  There was no sun to be had, and with intermittent showers, we had an in-door picnic.  I didn’t have a chance to take notice of the temperatures yesterday, as I was more in-tuned to the chatter and the antics of those around me. Dennis had turned the furnace up in the porch before the kids arrived, knowing full well where the action would be.  Megan and Nicholas ate and postponed having desert until after they would come back in from the porch.  From the bathroom window the view through the patio doors of the porch was priceless.  Both kids were on the floor of the porch and a ping pong ball could be seen bouncing around as well as a black and while blur of Snuggles.

  In time, Megan and Nicholas did come in and, I swear, they had played hard enough that when I brought the rhubarb dessert and the ice cream to the dining room table, they each indicated larger portions then I would have given them credit for.  Without saying anything after they finished their dessert, each went in different directions and came back together with toys to play with.  They must have hatched out a plan before they came in.  It tugged at my heart.  Both had brought their tablets with, but they were lying on the dining room table.  The kids were still interested in playing with the toys that they have played with since the time when each of them were toddlers.  Priceless.

  From the time Megan had been a toddler, we would take her along as we ran errands, and at some point we had visited the Fleet and Farm Store.  With her little nose hanging over a display she found the Schleich animal collection.  As she picked each one up and looked it over, I told her she could pick out two animals.  It was very hard for her to decide.  At that time I told her the next time she came, she could pick out two more animals.  It seemed to be a good plan.  The next time Megan did come to stay with us, and we brought her toys our for play, the two animals from Fleet and Farm put a twinkle in her eye and she said, “Two more?”  What can I say?  It has become a tradition that was passed on to to Nicholas.  Just too fun.

  

  There is nothing as pleasing to Grandpa Dennis
  and me as seeing Megan and Nicholas putting aside their
  tablets and playing with toys from days gone by.

  Yesterday, to top off the play, Megan had a request.  The last time Megan was here she had followed me up to the attic and had spied something and had asked if it could come downstairs so she could play with it.  I had brought it down and it was a winner. Yesterday, Megan was requesting the same red and green barn to play with as Nicholas had never seen it before.  Out came the Schleich animals, which by now has come to be quite a collection.  For the afternoon, some of us visited, some took naps and the two kids played on the floor creating all sorts of scenarios with the animals and the barn. There were even a few items pulled from a doll house to finish it all off.

  

  I couldn’t resist pulling up a 2009 Mother’s Day
  photo when Megan and Nicholas had Uncle Kevin pulling
  them up and down the driveway.

  I couldn’t resist pulling up a photo Mother’s Day 2009 when Megan and Nicholas had their Uncle Kevin pull them up and down the drive on the garden wagon.

  I am going to back up a bit about how the red and green barn happened to be.  When Kevin may have been in kindergarten, Orlin and I knew that the coming Christmas, Carrie was going to be getting one of the Barbie Doll items. I don’t remember if it was the camper or the plane.  I contacted my Great Uncle Roy Grunwalt, who was very handy with his hands.  The request was for a barn with a hay loft to be made for Kevin.  We asked him what he would charge.  We ended up doing a barter.  I would paint Great Aunt Agnus a table cloth with my Tri-Chem oil paints in exchange for the barn.  The deal was struck and all we needed to do was paint it without the kids catching on.  Over the decades, the barn has quietly been waiting in the far southwest corner of my attic, most likely dreaming about all the play times it and Kevin had had.

  Yesterday was a great Mother’s Day.  We had put the day to rest as night fell, when we had one more surprise.  Dennis had rummaged around and found a treasure he was bound and determined to send home with Nicholas.  It’s hard doing for grandchildren and keeping it a bit fair.  We had shared a sewing machine with Megan a time ago and today was Nicholas’ turn.  The treasure was an old telephone that at one time was a promo advertisement for Pepsi.  It was on a free standing unit and on the receiver was Pepsi – 10¢. Dennis had hooked it up and knew that any phone jack would result in an operational phone.  Nicholas went home holding the phone on his lap.

  Eight o’clock last night our phone rang and it was for Grandpa Dennis.  Nicholas was on his Pepsi phone thanking Grandpa Dennis for his treasure.  “—-oh, and if Megan wants to use my phone, she has to pay me 10¢.”

  Just how many special memories will my mind be able to hold?  I believe with all that is within me, my memories will keep me alive and vital for some time to come.

   
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  Noreen 3:34 am on April 28, 2015 Permalink  

  I knew Megan Had My Back 

  It seems as if it has been forever since I lost the lower front tooth crown.   When I called the dentist’s office, I was asked if it was an emergency. I really had to admit, it was one tooth and there was no pain.  I wouldn’t think of going to any dentist other than the one that I have had for the last thirty years, but appointments are hard to come by, so it was hurry up and wait.

  I felt myself tense up as the thought of this appointment came closer.  The tooth under the crown had been totally worn away.  There was nothing jutting out from the gum.  Even when a tree stump rots there generally is something to grab on to, to remove the root.

  As I sat with the glare of the dentist’s overhead lamp, I knew that the Novocaine was coming and it was going to be more than “This will be just a little prick.”  My mind immediately went to granddaughter Megan.  Megan had quite a few teeth pulled in the early winter of 2014 for her braces, and her first weeks of the braces were very challenging.  Her little cheeks were raw in the inside until the wire situation could be remedied.

  During the years of Megan raising Grammie, each time we had a challenge, I would warn Megan that maybe Grammie wouldn’t be able to accomplish the task at hand.  The challenges were arrays from mental to physical.  With her wide blue eyes looking right into mine, “Grammie, you can do this!”  Sure enough, Grammie would come through.

  Sitting in the dentist chair with more than just one prick, I knew Megan had my back and she would expect nothing less than being strong.  Today was the first step in the remedy of “Grammie with one of her front teeth missing.”  Next week after the swelling is gone, I will have impressions made for having an additional tooth added to the bottom partial.

  It just goes to show, that no matter what the age or the situation, trepidation is within each of us. Much can be endured and accomplished by the support and belief of those who are filled with the innocence of a child.  It is sad when life snuffs out that innocence.

   
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  Noreen 3:59 am on April 9, 2015 Permalink  

  We Need to Step It Up 

  Years ago after Carrie’s cat Rocky, after enjoying a long happy life, went to his final resting spot, Dennis and I agreed no more cats in the house.  We have held true to that.  It took many spring and fall housecleaning seasons before the soft gray tuffs were no longer found from the attic to the basement corners.

  That is not to say that when a stray mama cat left one of her kitties on our patio five years ago, we were not above letting Honey Bunny take up digs in the garage porch.  Honey Bunny has all her claws and comes and goes as she wishes.  There have been times when she has decided to stay out in the wild for several days on end.  During the coldest winter days, Honey Bunny has made a trail in the snow to the far back yard to one of the old barns.  We pretty much have made peace if there is a time when she won’t return.  Honey Bunny lives her life by her own spirit, but can’t resist getting a good brushing.  She will lay down and all four paws up to get the brushing of her life.

  Last year, again, a mother cat left one of her kittens on the patio.  It didn’t take Butter Ball long to decide he liked food, water and a roof over his head.  Butter Ball will jump up on the lap, but doesn’t really care to be picked up.  He also can come and go as he pleases, but has stayed close to the porch and gardens.  He is getting to be a really big cat, as evident of this afternoon.  We were going to take him into the vet clinic for a  checkup and we missed the one chance to get him into the carrier.  Time will tell if we get that job done this week.

  All was well on Stauffer with Dennis, me, Honey Bunny and Butter Ball . . . until . . . along came Snuggles. By the grace of God Snuggles would have froze to death in the cardboard box someone left by our garbage can in February.  The vet figured he was four months old at the time, and talk about a kitten having energy. Even when we returned home with him from the vet clinic, after making sure he would not be fostering any babies, we were advised to keep him quiet.  Not Snuggles.  Dennis says he can run around and hop like a little billy goat getting into everything that is not nailed down.  Snuggles has no fear, but loves to crawl into Dennis’ jacket for a snooze.  When the treats are put down once a day, Butter Ball is nudged to the side as Snuggles bulldozes his way to get as many as he can.  Snuggles goes full boar, but when he decides it’s nap time, he’ll flop in the nearest spot.

  We have one problem and Dennis and I need to step it up.  There is no way either Dennis or I can get into the house fast enough to beat Snuggles into the house.  Grant it, me with arms that have less than great range of motion, needing more time than Dennis to get the tightly sprung door open enough to get in. Snuggles can be on the back patio and when he notices we are on the move . . . he is moving faster.  This morning Dennis was checking out the far corners of the basement seeking and searching for the little fellow that thinks he is going to stake a claim previously held by Rocky.  For the longest time when I looked out, Snuggles was laying right by the back door ready for the next chance.  He has already had an extended stay in the house as I didn’t realize he had gotten in when I went out.  Talk about a surprise when Dennis came into the house and Snuggles was ready to greet him.

  Life on Stauffer is good and very, very entertaining.

   
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  Noreen 5:08 am on April 6, 2015 Permalink
  Tags: ast year   

  Pretty Amazing 

  Easter is not just about the Sunday that it happens to fall on in either the month of March or April. What it is about is a very private soul searching experience within the depths of each of our beings. It is quite amazing the peace that passes all understanding that comes about with Jesus arising from His grave. That’s all I have to say about that.

  Today we would have been in Eden Prairie at daughter Carrie’s home had it not been for the flu bug that hit their home during the night.  Dennis and I were dressed when the phone call came.  All prettied up and no place to go.  Actually . . . we did need to head out to Mankato.  My right arm remains quite weak from the weeks of shingles on the arm.  I knew that we would be going through Mankato on our way to Carrie’s, and how great in having a cherry pie pre-ordered for the Easter Sunday dinner from Baker’s Square without me overdoing the arm.

  As I came out of Baker’s Square with the pie, I noticed someone was at our car, visiting with Dennis down the way in the parking lot.  The individual looked a bit downtrodden and worn.  As I got closer I finally could recognize it was my son, Kevin.  Oh my gosh.  Kevin and Kersten were in Mankato to return a rented trencher.  Their weekend had been spent trenching in electricity to their residential garage.   Any job always involves more than is apparent from the onset.  The Saturday morning that started at 6:30 in the a.m. for them didn’t get finished until dusk was setting in.  Of course, I am a mother, the downtrodden and worn was quickly replaced in my mind’s database as someone who had had a full day of hard labor.

  Kevin and Kersten had stopped at Walmart to pick up a few items before returning to Fairfax.  Kevin had waited in the truck for Kersten to complete her shopping.  Kersten came out as Kevin was taking note of a lady with white hair and a red shirt walking the Baker’s Square parking lot into the store.  Kersten took note of the car the white haired lady came out of.  Talk about happenstance.

  I put the pie in the car and the four of us had Easter dinner together in Baker’s Square.  An amazing thing is that is was the not first of such happenstances with Kevin.  Dennis and I were traveling on Highway 4 with Kevin and Kersten going in the opposite direction.  We each had taken note of the other’s vehicle; we pulled over, while they backed up and we visited by the side of the road.  Last year I had been to Dassel, Minnesota, which is 89 miles north east of here to attend a family event.  On the way home I took side roads to see the countryside and also drive past a building site that Orlin and I had made home for our family in the 1970s.  As I approached the building sight from the east, Kevin and Kersten were approaching from the opposite direction heading to Hutchinson.  Of course; back up, pull over and visit.  Happenstance . . . amazing.

  This Sunday did not happen as planned . . . or did it?

   
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  Noreen 6:10 am on March 27, 2015 Permalink  

  I lost a month. On February 26th, I had lunch with friend Doreen in St. Peter. I asked Doreen for help with my jacket as we were leaving the restaurant as my right arm was feeling less than good. By the time I had driven the 60 miles home, I could hardly count on my right arm for steering the car. The next day my concern mounted, my mind went to the right shoulder replacement. Infections in the body of any type, including a tooth that has an infection can attack the replacement area. A trip to Urgent Care confirmed I had shingles. The blisters from the top of the shoulders to the hand were not comfortable, even to have cloth touch them.

  Today, a month later, the pain that feels like hot heat radiating the length of the arm is lessening. During the days of the last month, time blurred as I had a lot of discomfort in the arm as it felt as if it was in a vice and the pressure was extreme, generally felt during the night. The headache and nausea came and went as the flu-like symptoms come right along with the shingles. I slept through many of the days and didn’t really care or relate to much. Yes, all the well meaning people who have had the shingles were not lying. It was pretty overwhelming. Normally, I have something physical to show for each day God has given me, be it the cries of dust bunnies or threads left about from a project. These last 30 days . . . squat.  I am also amazed by the general body strength I have to regain.  It is a good thing spring is here for some great exercise in the yard work.

  I am thrilled to have this much of the shingles experience behind me. I do know that some discomfort from nerve endings can last for some time after the physical signs are gone. Prayers go up often.

  Dennis did endure and I can attest to the fact that in another life he may very well have been a ballerina. His tip toe technique around the house during this last month was awesome and so appreciated.

   
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  Noreen 4:24 am on February 23, 2015 Permalink  

  It’s a Good Thing 

  Oh yes, this last cold snap smacks me in the face when I step outside and leaves my cheeks as red as if I had been struck.  Oh, how I love the little lever on the furnace thermostat.  I do turn the thermostat down a bit during the hours of sleep as a cooler home makes for a better, sounder nights sleep.  The cold weather prompts more sunshine days than gloomy warmer days and that prompts the shades on the south-facing windows to be raised as soon as the sun wants to peep in.  Let that wonderful warmth in.

  A lever on the thermostat and raising of window shades are a good thing to make a cold day seem more tolerable.  I remember several winters in the mid-seventies when the only thing that made a cold day tolerable was making sure Orlin and I had enough wood split to keep the Warm Morning stove going to heat the home.   Warm Morning stoves were a wonderful brand of free standing heat elements that needed to be hooked to the chimney and heat was just an armload of wood away.

  Our family was living in the brick schoolhouse just outside of Buffalo Lake, Minnesota, at the time I am speaking of.  The brick walls were very thick and there was no way any amount of winter sun could warm them.  What had been the gymnasium for the school we had made into our three bedroom living area. With the bulk of the wall height being below ground level, the Warm Morning stove in the living room kept the entire living area comfortable.  A bucket of coal for the hours during the night kept the home comfortable without anyone needing to get up during the night to keep the fire going.  There was always a stack of wood right next to the stove for the morning feeding.

  Orlin was managing the fleet of buses for the Buffalo Lake school system as well as being one of the drivers.  I got on board and got my license and also had a morning and evening bus route.  Orlin and I spent a lot of time in the fall and winter weekends building a good supply of split wood for the adjacent wood room directly behind the living room. It was amazing how much split wood could disappear during a cold snap much like we are having now.  During the winter, sometimes after I got back home from the morning bus pick-up route, I could be found on the southwest side of our acre splitting wood to ease the amount that would have to be split on the weekends.

  Directly across the road from our schoolhouse lived Bill and Esther Miller.  Both were in their 80s and had never had their own family.  They were thrilled to have the schoolhouse occupied to give them neighbors to watch and also to know there was someone close if they needed help.  Oh, there was a lot of activity for them to take in and they enjoyed every bit of it and we enjoyed them as well.  It was not uncommon during my wood splitting episodes for Bill to trek across the road and invite me over for a cup of coffee. Both of them were very slight in stature with huge warm hearts. Esther had given up baking many years prior, but there was always a cookie to go with the coffee.  After a cup of instant Maxwell coffee and a cookie, I would slide my boots back on and finish the amount of wood to split that I had given myself as a challenge to do.  I never gave it a thought . . . actually enjoyed the feeling of accomplishment to help ease the extra work load from Orlin.  Weekends had more on the agenda than just working on filling the wood room.

  Sitting here enjoying a cup of coffee as the sun warms the south through the windows, I marvel at times past . . . those times still bring a smile to me.  I wouldn’t trade those times or those memories for anything. There may be an ax in the garage today, but I let my fingers do the walking on the thermostat and the shade strings.

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

   
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  Noreen 4:25 am on February 7, 2015 Permalink  

  It Is All About the Heart 

  I am here to tell you, ole cowboys, especially Dennis Curry, have a whole lot of heart.  A heart a large as it is, is also very fair.  Dennis is not one to judge until someone has really been unfair and dealt out a large amount of hurt.  Hmm, kind of like an old softie.

  Dennis’ heart really came into play on this last Monday night.  Dennis is always right on target to get the Waste Management bin out to Stauffer Ave. for the early morning Tuesday pick up.  It was a bitter cold night with zero or less forecast for the early Tuesday morning.  I had long settled into some crocheting until I heard Dennis call to me.  Yeah, the cowboy is 78 and I don’t take much for granted when I am summoned.  I got to the back entry and there stood Dennis with a cardboard box, much like a carton of car oil comes in.  As I looked closer, there was a little face peering out.  I could not believe it.  There had been a little kitten left in the cardboard box by our garbage bin, tipped upside down so the wee one could not get out.

  

  Heart strings have been tugged
  between Dennis and Snuggles.

  The look in Dennis’ eyes tugged at my heart.  Oh yes, my kids, I do have one.  There was no hesitation. The cat in the box was going into the garage porch.  I went out just a few minutes later and there was the scene to behold: Dennis in his rocking chair watching the kitten as it checked out the digs.  Year-old Butter Ball had no idea what had just infringed upon his domain.  Five-year-old Honey Bunny had not as yet come home from her jaunt to the back yard and that would be a shocker for her.

  After seeing how Dennis took to the kitten, it’s no wonder that this would very well be the third cat in the garage porch.  Honey Bunny was brought to our patio by the stray alley cat, Sarah.  By the way, granddaughter Megan named the stray cat Sarah as it would jump up on her lap.  Who could turn away a beautiful gray kitten that the mom had no interest in to the point that it would hiss at it until it knew there was no love lost?  Soon after, Sarah came no longer and might have become a fatality of some event.

  Fast forward to last summer when alley cat named Sweetie Pie, again by Megan, brought four kittens to our patio.  You might wonder what the draw was to our patio?  Dennis had began putting out Meow Mix and fresh water for those that might need it.  If the cats were down and out and had to survive on their own, they could at least have a full tummy and stay hydrated.  Of the four kittens of Sweetie Pie, one yellow kitten survived and seemed to like the patio.  One day the side door was left open and when we noted the kitten was not on the patio, it was found in the adjacent car garage sleeping on a rug.  Butter Ball had found a home.

  So, here we are with three cats that really, really like the garage porch.  The newest addition had been someone’s pet as it was in no way afraid to be loved.  Next week is Honey Bunny’s vet appointment and new addition, Snuggles, will also be going for a once over.  We have no idea if it has had shots and as this little boy will not be propagating any kittens, there will be some snip, snip.

  Dennis can be found spending a lot of time in his heated garage porch, complete with television and his favorite Teak rocking chair.  At any given time there might be one of the three cats batting around ping pong balls, tennis balls or pieces of nylon rope that has been conveniently left to be tugged about.  The cowboy with the heart as big as all outdoors is happy, content and enjoying the antics of Honey Bunny, Butter Ball and Snuggles.

  Dennis is the best.  His heart has encompassed my family to the inth degree.  There is no division between the love of his children and grandchildren or mine.  It makes life here on Stauffer Avenue just priceless.

  An after thought of mine: please, please no more kittens left on the patio this coming year.

   
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  Noreen 1:43 am on February 2, 2015 Permalink  

  They Are Ours 

  Fifty one years ago today, Orlin and I were heading to Texas after a short, but sweet, wedding ceremony. In an earlier story called “Ahh Memories,” I recounted our trip and days shortly thereafter.

  Today, I am remembering that long gone event by celebrating the very best of Orlin and me: our children, Carrie and Kevin.  It’s not going to be a long story or a long posting as there are not enough words for me to tell of how much I admire them, appreciate them, and how proud of them I am.

  

  The best of Orlin and Noreen

  As my children have spent more years away from me than the few years I had with them under my wing . . . I thought I had them that close, it is much like me tuning into my very favorite sitcom on television.  I don’t want to miss a single episode.  Silly ole me.  My children are busy as their days are so much more demanding than the simple life they were born into.  It is easy for me to hang on to some of those self-same frames of mind as I am no longer defining the perimeters of what my life is yet to be, I have that.  Carrie and Kevin are no longer mine to worry over – yeah right, like that is ever going to happen.  It is a parent’s right to want only the best, the most painless for their days just as my parents wanted for their children.

  So, I can say, “Yes, Orlin, they are ours and they are the best of each of us.