I've Lost Something Dear to Me and the Olympics (of course) - They're Winding Down

I lost something very dear to me last night. Fortunately the part that mattered most managed to me is still with me, but ... I had a very bad night's sleep and I'm going to leave for the shop very early to check the parking lot for the other two items. I have always loved jewelry and enjoy wearing it. Yesterday I was wearing my favorite gold chain with two dangles - my 24Kt and Sterling Silver Lady and the Moon, and an amethyst crystal with an opal inset. Apparently the chain broke at some point, because I found the Lady on the carpet in my computer room. I checked everywhere and still haven't found the chain or the amethyst. But, they can be replaced, if necessary. The Lady and the Moon was custom made for DH by a dear friend of ours who was operating a jewelry store at the time. That isn't replaceable, so I'm relieved that I at least have that. But the gold chain was a heavy chain - it's WAY more than I can afford to replace at the prices of gold these days. 

My Lady Riding the Moon is very similar to this one, 
except my Lady is white gold, and my Moon is 18Kt 
yellow gold. It was a custom order that DH made with a 
dear friend who was running a custom jewelry store at 
the time. I treasure it and wear it often. It was on a solid 
24Kt neck chain, that must have broken. I had been 
wearing it all day, and wear it often. 

But, I'm still a bit heartsick at losing that chain. I'm VERY grateful that I still have my Lady and the Moon pendant, but I'm not very happy. I'm going to grab a very early breakfast and then head over to the shop to check the parking lot. I already checked the garage and the entryway to the house - nothing. If it's lying on the ground on the parking lot, it's a 50/50 chance of finding it. We have a lot of homeless people in the general area, and that could be a real find for them. I just need to find it because with today's gold prices, I can't afford to replace the necklace. 

The price of gold has gone through the roof over the past 
few years. I can't afford to replace the chain, so I'm 
hoping I happen to come across it in the parking lot at work, 
or in the store. I'm extremely grateful that I didn't lost 
the pendant - that is irreplaceable. But the chain is a 
serious problem too. 

So, the Winter Olympics are winding down. Only two more days of competition and they're over and the torches are doused. The next Olympics will be in Los Angeles in 2028 - that will be a summer games version. We'll be in the French Alps for the next Winter games in 2030, and down south in Brisbane, Australia for the next summer games in 2032. 

We had already been awarded the 1976 Winter Olympics, 
but the populace of the state decided it would be death for 
our mountains, so we put it to a vote and voted it down. The 
Olympic Committee had to pull away from the decision and 
they had to find a different venue - Innsbruck, Austria. 

I have the pleasure and distinction of being one of the many who voted AGAINST holding the Winter Olympics in my state while I lived in Colorado. We were one of the finalists for the 1976 Winter Games but we rejected it in a 1972 referendum, forcing Denver to withdraw it's bid after it had been awarded the games. We didn't want to spend the money, and we especially didn't want to deal with all of those extra people on our ski slopes. I am still totally behind that vote - it would have changed my mountains in a way I really didn't want. They've still changed over the years, but it's been a more controlled growth than quickly making things "proper" for a major sporting event like the Olympics. 

So I'm wrapping this up, having a quick breakfast, and then heading over to the shop to check out the parking lot in hopes of finding my gold chain. Have a great Saturday and weekend, I'll be back on Monday morning. Slava Ukraini, and enjoy the final two days of the Olympics. Italy has done itself proud - the games have been glorious. 

Decisions - We Have a Lot of Them and They're Never Easy To Make

Yesterday's Mild Cognitive Impairment group was very fun. We were a smaller group than usual, but it's the holiday season, and things crop up. Sue, a woman I really enjoyed who had been missing the past two weeks, was finally back again. I was really happy to see her, I'd been a bit worried - with good cause, as it happened. She and her family had been involved in a trauma with their mother, whom they were trying to get into a memory care facility. 

Sue's crisis revolved around getting her mother into a 
memory care facility. It wasn't a smooth transition, and 
her mother ended up in the hospital for two weeks before 
finally moving to a different facility. The family is 
working with some advisors who are apparently really 
great. Hopefully things will be resolved quickly and 
life can continue onward. 

I totally understood the difficulties - I went through something quite similar when I had to put my own mother into a facility. There are always residual questions - "Am I doing the right thing for her?", "Is this the right place for her, or should I look elsewhere?", etc., etc. The questions don't actually end, but decisions have to be made, and then sometimes re-made again at a later time. 

Memory Care was not an option when Mom needed extended 
care. There was only a single facility that had a wing for 
memory care, and, fortunately, they were able to take her 
on very short notice. Fortunate for me, at least, but probably 
not - initially - for her. I felt like I had abandoned a puppy, 
but she couldn't live alone any more with safety, and I wasn't 
anywhere nearby. It was still one of the hardest decisions 
I've ever had to make and it still makes my heart hurt. 

Yesterday's topics were stress and sleep patterns. I'm pretty sure that all of us have been affected by nights when we simply couldn't fall asleep easily, and others of you have had stress affecting your lives in other ways. Stress is a constant in our lives. We don't live with it 24/7, but we do live with it far too often. Stress places some strains on the body that take a few weeks to clear out. Living a life of stress is completely unhealthy, but so many of us do these days. 

We're moving ahead with getting the store closed. We spent 
quite a long time on the phone yesterday with the guy 
we're hiring to help us with the sale. I'm comfortable with 
him, DH is a bit less so, but we both agree we need some 
serious assistance in getting this moving next year. So, 
we'll speak again on Monday, probably sign some virtual 
contracts on-line, arrange for a transfer of funds, and lock 
Travis in for our scheduled time next year. 

I'm going to cook some stuffed peppers today that I didn't have the time to do on Wednesday, and I'm still in the market for a new phone, so I'll pick that up once again. I have a pile of things on my desk that are all calling for my attention, and my tea is growing cold while I write this. I think it's time to wrap it up and call it done for today. Have an excellent Friday and I'll be back tomorrow to wrap the week up. Slava Ukraini. 

The Scoop On My Name Change For the Curious

Since many people were asking, here's the name story. I stopped using my given first name when I entered Junior High (Middle School in some districts). I was in a new school in a new part of the city and nobody knew me at all. My home room teacher asked each of us what we wanted to be called, and I gave my middle name. I wanted a new me for a new start in a new school. 

I attended Merril Middle School in Denver, Colorado. It was 
a brand new start for me in a new area of town where I knew 
no-one, and nobody knew me. It was a chance to reinvent 
myself, make new friends, and grow into myself. 

Over time I grew to prefer my middle name and got everyone to use it - some family members took a bit longer than others, but eventually everyone shifted over. I got my driver's license under the new name, but my passport had to be under my original name because it was a government paper. Then I got married. 

Then I got married, and the judge (because getting married by 
a judge was a LOT easier than getting married by a priest or 
a rabbi) ... well, he insisted that my first name had to be part 
of my signature because it was a legal document. The damned 
signature took up more than half of the space! Something 
had to be done. 

Suddenly I was faced with four names - my preferred first name, the first name that I never used, and my two last names, which I decided to hyphenate into a single long last name. Leaving out the name I never used (or used as a middle name under duress), I was looking at a LOT of the alphabet. I figured my name was unique enough with the hyphenated last name. Now I needed to convince the government. 

For several times I went to one of the offices of 
Social Security and waited in line for their doors to 
open so that I could actually speak to an agent. Finally, 
I was able to speak to someone who actually understood 
and was able to get my name changed in their records 
to reflect my married name without the added first name. 

After several long weeks of speaking to people at Social Security, they finally moved it through their system and my payments and account are under my name without the middle name I don't use. But I can't update my driver's license without showing proof of name that I don't have, and I can't update my passport because of the same issues. Identity has become much stricter in the decades past, and that's a good thing in many respects. However, going through this name change will strike the original first name from my name forever. I don't have a problem with that. DH does, but it's not his name. 

My driver's license is coming up for renewal, and they 
won't let me renew without all of the paperwork that I 
don't have. Getting my name legally changes will allow 
me to get my real id driver's license as well as a new 
passport. It also will make a lot of documents that I've 
signed in the past legal - such as our old mortgage 
documents, etc. It needs to be done and the sooner, the better. 

So, that's the story, in synopsis format - LOL. Of course there are many things that were issued under my legal name that won't actually be accurate any more - my BA and MA degrees, for instance. I'll live with it. I rather doubt, at this time in my life, I'll be needing my BA or MA diplomas for any reason. I just want to be able to get my driver's license renewed and a passport. That's why I'm getting the name change done. 

Spread Positive Vibes Today - We All Need It

My oldest nephew has been dealing with intestinal cancer for almost two years now, and he's finally losing the battle. He has a young daughter - probably somewhere between 15-18 (I start to lose track after a while) and lots of brothers and sisters, most with children of their own. (It's like a circus when we all get together.) In any case, Michael slipped into a coma about 24 hours ago and it seems unlikely that he'll awaken from this. His Mom visited his bedside yesterday, and we were invited to join the family at his bedside, but since the other seven kids have rallied around, I'm quite sure they don't need any additional people added to the mix. I left the decision up to DH, who decided that since Michael was in a coma and couldn't interact with him, he'd stay away. I'm not sure I agree with his rationale, but it's his decision. I guess I'll have a funeral in my immediate future, but at least Michael will finally be free from the constant, never-ending pain he's been in for more than two years. 

We won't be in the main car for this funeral, we're one of 
a lot of relatives in a very large family. I'm hoping I can 
attend the funeral, but no guarantees. We have a business 
and can't really be closed, but it's a possibility that 
Chickie Mama might be able to come over and be here 
so that both DH and I can attend whatever ceremony 
Michael decided upon. 

Family is a funny thing. You can't choose your relatives - you either embrace them with all of their faults, or you avoid them. My personal family is almost nonexistent, so the family I married into is really my family - my oldest nephew worked for DH for several years, and we were always close to him. My oldest niece is the person I had lunch with last week. We keep in close contact. I'm actually in contact with all of the nieces and nephews through Facebook. We're scattered across the greater Twin Cities area, and one nephew lives several towns to the south of the metro area. But the eight kids are all in touch all the time, and that's what family is all about. 

I didn't experience this growing up. I was an only child. My best friend across the alley was Patty Carter, the oldest of three and the only girl. We were almost inseparable until I moved to a different neighborhood when I was starting Middle School. I rarely saw her after that. I heard she married and moved to Alaska. I hope she's had a happy and fulfilling life. 

My "cousin" Missy and I were as close as sisters. We grew up across the street from each other, and our parents were best friends. Missy and I are still in touch. She lived in California for a long time while her hubby worked for the California government, and she moved back to Colorado about 10-15 years ago, settling up in the eastern part of the Front Range with her horses and her music. She loves her life out there. We haven't seen each other face-to-face for decades, but I know it would be just like coming home - seeing a sister I hadn't seen in decades and picking up from where we left off. 

I am part of a LARGE family on DH's side of the 
family. His sister had 8 children (5 adopted and 3 natural), 
and most of those 8 kids are married with kids of their 
own now. We're not quite into the next generation yet, 
but it won't be too long, I suspect. 

Well, I've rambled in this post today. A little of this and a bit of that, but it all comes down to family. I expect I'll be attending a funeral within the next week or two, and I'll have a chance to see most, if not all, of my nieces and nephews. It'll be good to see each one of them, but I sure wish it was for a different reason. So, today, spread some love. Hug your kids or your spouse and give your pets some extra cuddles. We need more love in this world, and I need the positive vibes. *hugs* Slava Ukraini. 

Absent Friends and A History of Houses

Rosemary was missing from the swimming group again yesterday, and I told people that I would call her, since I had her phone number in my phone. Actually, I had two numbers for her. I figured one of them would work. But, I tried them in the late afternoon, and neither one worked! ARGH. I'll have to touch base with the lifeguard and see if she has a number other than those I have. Or, maybe we'll all be happier because she'll be waiting for us at the doors this morning. 

Rosemary is such a swimming presence - she never 
misses a day - Monday through Friday for years 
and for decades, she's at the pool when the doors 
are unlocked. She took time when her husband was 
dying in his hospice care facility, and of course for 
the funeral, and she takes a northern vacation with 
her extended family every year. But this - being 
absent because of a very painful lower back - that's 
quite unusual for her. 

Today is also the final work day for our latest Gate Gargoyle - Chanda. She's the wife of a preacher, and her husband got a job leading a church in Ohio. So, they found a house out there, he moved there a month or so ago, and she and the kids (and the cats) are all leaving for their new life tomorrow. I hope it will be a good change for everyone. There aren't very many places better than Minnesota, and it's always a challenge to dive into a new parish, but I'm sure her husband will do the best that he can, and since it's a small town, the kids (hopefully), will adapt quickly to their new location. 

I've planted roots here in the Frozen Northlands and don't 
think I'll ever move far away. I just love it up here too much 
(despite the winter's snow and cold). There's just something 
about Minnesota that speaks to my soul. Maybe it's 
all of the water we have - 1000's of lakes in the state. 

I'm very much a "move and plant roots" kind of a gal. I HATE moving, there's something so uprooting about that - LOL. I like to move and plant deep roots. I was a lot more mobile when I was younger and in college. I lived in a different location every year when I was a college student. Not a different town - the town was determined by the college I was attending and that stayed the same for my BA and then changed town and state for my MA. But within the town, I moved every year to a different place until I met DH, we found a house together, and we rented that one for two years until we graduated. 

This is the first house we lived in. It dates from the late 
1910 to early 1920 period, is 1-1/2 story with a full 
basement and a detached garage, and had a fully enclosed 
front porch when we lived there. We bought it for 
$50,000 from DH's Dad, and sold it several years 
later for $80,000. Current Zillow valuation puts it 
at $250,000 which I think is RIDICULOUS for this 
house. But, it was a good starter home with wonderful 
woodwork and solid core doors and a large kitchen. It needed 
more insulation at the back of the house, though. 

When we moved after school, we moved to the small house that his paternal grandparents had lived in for most of their adult lives. It was tiny, but perfectly suited to newly married graduate students who had yet to find income and steady employment. We wanted a bigger place, though, so when we had gathered enough money to make a downpayment on a larger house, we started looking. It took us more than two years until we found the house we currently live in, and we've been here since 1984. We've planted roots. DH has his garden area, I have my crafting areas (which are a disaster now, but will be cleaned and straightened when I'm finally retired. It might be a difficult house in the future - it's got a lot of stairs that are necessary for almost anything. But, it's our house and we love it. 

The Zillow street view of our current house is this - there's a 
house somewhere beyond all those trees and greenery, 
and it's a trash day - LOL. Not a very informative photo, 
but I'm absolutely fine with that. They're estimating almost 
$500,000 for the house, which probably isn't far off the 
mark. But I'm not moving unless I have no choice. It's 
been a perfect place for us, and we have lot of privacy. 

We also heard from the fence company. We don't have an absolute date for when the fencing will be torn down and reinstalled, but we're a step closer. I think it'll be up by mid-June - at least that's my hope. We'll see how that goes. Meanwhile, at least this fencing catastrophe has allowed us to get to know our new backyard neighbors, so that's a total win! On that note, I'm wrapping this up and heading out to the pool. I hope you have an excellent Thursday, and I'll be back tomorrow. I'll be working for Chickie tomorrow, so I did a LOT of cooking yesterday and the refrigerator is filled to bursting - LOL. Happy Thursday, Slave Ukraini and חיים למען ישראל. 

 

Happy Birthday to Dad - Long Gone But Never Forgotten

I always start out March by wishing my dear, long-dead Dad, a happy birthday. He was an amazing man, chased his dreams throughout his life to the best of his ability, and I think he was happy at the end, looking back on what he had accomplished. He and Mom worked as a great team - they rarely disagreed, and truly looked after one another. They were compatible, and companions and complimented each other's strengths and weaknesses so that united, they presented a force of nature against which, even Hitler had no chance. 

We tend to think of nature as an inconvenience, but 
when it comes down to facts, nature will always 
win. Sometimes there are people who are also 
forces of nature. My parents, united, were stronger 
than they would have ever imagined, and came 
through their trials stronger than ever before. 

My Dad became an expert in changing paths and starting over. He did it numerous times in his life, starting when he was young and fairly newly married. When Hitler was threatening, he sent Mom off to England to protect her from the Nazis, and then walked alone over the Alps to find passage to the USA from a totally different country than a European nation. Once here, he started to set up a life in New York, and sent for Mom as soon as the war was over. 

I know Dad escaped through the Alps. He never voluntarily 
talked about those days, touching on one quick point or 
another, and never in depth. He was lucky. He managed to 
escape Austria shortly after Hitler came to power there. 

How many of us these days would have the stamina to do what he did? To leave everything behind and walk off into a new and completely uncertain future isn't easy. I'm quite sure that without Hitler, their lives and my own would be completely different. But they had Hitler and we have Trump. Yeah - oh joy. They lived through Hitler, and we will live through whatever comes in our own futures, but again, there are no promises - life isn't easy, and we've been very lucky in this nation until now. 

Just in case you can't read it well, the caption 
of the photo says, "Life holds no promise to what 
will come our way ... it makes no guarantees as to 
what we will have ... it just gives us time to make 
choices and to make chances." 

So today is Friday, and it's Lent, so I'll be having my usual salmon for dinner - YUMMY. I'm not sure what DH is planning for his, but we'll work out the oven time if needed. It can be a bit of a dance when I need the broiler and he needs the oven, but it seems to work out despite our failings - LOL. Isn't that what life is, after all? Life is a dance - we move in circles, stumble and fall at times, but once again join with the music and rhythm of the Universe in our eternal Universal dance. Have an excellent Friday, enjoy the beginning of your new month. I'll be back tomorrow to wrap the week up. Slava Ukraini and חיים למען ישראל.

Halloween Is Approaching Fast - Are You Almost Ready for Ghosts and Ghouls?

Halloween has changed a lot since I was a child. When I was very young, my father would walk me around our neighborhood, house to house, asking for candy and treats. Almost every house we visited had kids I played with - the neighborhood was full of young families and their assorted children. Just walking around two full blocks would fill my bag with enough treats to make any kid sick with sugar overload. 

It'll be too cold to be without coats this Halloween. That'll 
disappoint many kids who love to show off their 
costumes. But there are also many more "planned" events 
at grocery stores and other venues which will allow them 
to show off a bit. 

As I grew older, I branched out and we moved to a different neighborhood. Here, the kids (and my friends) were mostly older. It was more suburbia than city, and houses were more spread out. We walked the neighborhoods, of course, but also attended various parties or even a few church events. (I was only invited along, I certainly wasn't a member of any congregation.) We dressed up, but much more grown up than the princesses and fairies of my youth. Some of the parties were in very different parts of the City, so I wandered some strange neighborhoods too. 

When I grew too old for trick-or-treat door to door, I 
attended a lot of Halloween parties. Most of them were 
quite forgettable, but there were a few that were quite fun. 

Around the time I was fourteen, trick-or-treat from door to door generally didn't work well. Too many people said we were too old for trick-or-treat and refused to pass out any candy. That's when parties became more common, or we would join our friends who were escorting their younger siblings on their own collection route. We didn't bother dressing up for the holiday any more, just jeans and jackets (or puffy coats if the weather was really cold). Hot chocolate on the return home was always appreciated on those cold days. 

Although I never worked at a place where we held an 
actual party, I did work at a college where the staff all 
dressed up for the holiday. That was fun. The accountant 
firms I worked for afterward, however, simply didn't 
think Halloween costumes were appropriate attire. *sigh*

Now we pretty much ignore the day. I do dress up for the shop. Given that we're going to be quite cold, I think my Morticia Addams dress with warm leggings will win the day. Last year Halloween was 65 F Degrees. This year we'll be below freezing. So yes, Morticia Addams velvet dress with a shawl for extra warmth, and I'll wear my long red wig to keep my head nice and cozy warm too (although my scarab tattoo will also go well with the gown when I grow tired of the wig). Decision made - LOL. 

Who wouldn't want to be married to someone as 
romantic and spontaneous as Gomez Addams? 
I think Gomez spoiled me for any other man - LOL. 

Are you doing anything special for Halloween or Samhain? It's unfortunate that it falls in the middle of a work week, but nothing can be done about that. Do you give out candy? Do you attend parties? Do you embrace Halloween, or do you ignore it completely? Let me know in your comments, and have an excellent weekend. I'll be back on Monday. Slava Ukraini and חיים למען ישראל.

Report on Our Sales Days and Jumping Down the Beady Rabbit Hole of History

Our Black Friday and Small Business Saturday sales surpassed last year's numbers, which made us happy. The number of customers was about the same, or maybe slightly less, but people were more comfortable and bought more. They also took advantage of our sale bins and other assorted things, so we were kept busy with no time for woolgathering. That's what I like. 

It's all too easy to fall into woolgathering. If you're 
not familiar with the term, or need a reminder of 
what it entails, here's a basic definition. 

Back in the hey-day of beading, in the 2003-2010 days, we were busy enough to support two full-time sales associates and several part-time people who packaged beads for us in their homes. It was a lot of fun helping people to gather enough funds for their upcoming planned vacations, or to help them save for a special upcoming trip to see relatives. Those were the days when we had 30 bead stores in the greater metropolitan area, and probably around 50 in the state. There are few of us remaining now. 

Apparently Bobby Bead celebrated their 30th 
anniversary this year. That actually makes us 
older than them, and I thought it was the other 
way around. I opened my store in the early 
1980's, either 1983 or 1984. I didn't carry beads 
until the mid-1990's, specializing instead on the
Native American art and crafts that we've always 
carried. The two stores have been diametrically 
opposed in focus and heritage since the beginning, 
however. 

The store that's been around the longest is our competitor, Bobby Bead, was started in the 1990's  (although I could swear I dropped by their store in the mid-1980's). It was established as a "hippie" shop in the Uptown area of Minneapolis, and moved to its current location about 15 years ago, maybe even a bit longer. We've been head-to-head competitors since I began carrying beads, but whereas I specialize in Miyuki beads, Bobby's specializes in Toho. Two Japanese bead factories, but the beads and bead selections are quite different. 

There are very few bead stores in the nation that 
carry all of the seed bead manufacturers. We're one 
of those rare stores. Our Native American and 
African clientele prefer using the Czech seed beads in 
a variety of sizes. Our contemporary beaders prefer 
the Japanese seed beads, and sometimes want the 
precision that the Miyuki Delica beads can give to 
their projects. We have a variety of beaders making 
a variety of projects, so we have a LOT of beads to 
help them make their items. 

The two of us have seen stores come and go like waves on a beach. Each store was unique in its' approach and merchandise, but we both hung in there. We're the "old farts" on the bead block now. There are a few other small stores around, and of course there are beads sold by Hobby Lobby, JoAnne's and Michael's, the big national craft stores, but for all-out selection, it's still Bobby vs us. 

I'm not fond of any of the big box stores (Michaels or 
JoAnne's). I refuse to shop at Hobby Lobby for any 
purpose whatsoever. But, several of the salespeople 
who work at these stores take our business cards and 
pass them along to beaders they're helping in their 
big box stores. We appreciate it and so do their 
customers. 

I've been looking into re-vamping my store website. My host went out of business during Covid, so I've been unable to update or alter anything on my website since then. I don't mind doing mail orders, although the sales tax situation has become far more difficult over the years. But I would need to do a lot of updating. Still, I've had Chickie working on a basic update for our information splash page at least. The hard part is that I'm clueless these days about websites and web technology, even though I built our last website from scratch in the late 1990's and early 2000's. *sigh* Just one more thing on my "to do" plate. 

There are certainly times when I feel exactly like 
this - LOL. I have a feeling you also have had times 
when it's been like this for you too. Unfortunately, 
I haven't kept up with programming websites and 
I really don't feel like learning something new at this 
stage of the game. 

So, I'll stick with focusing on making it through this holiday season, selling as much as I can, wrapping up the year, and then focusing on next year. One step at a time. With the help of all of you, my friends and internet buddies, I'll even keep on an even keel and not go totally insane during the next eight months or so. At least, I can hope for sanity - LOL. Have an truly excellent day and Slava Ukraini. I'll be back tomorrow. 

Pushing Boundaries - Welcome to Life

It's Wednesday, laundry day, my "day off" and my next day of getting some cleaning done before Sharon arrives. I know that my major cleaning days are my Fridays because I have less scheduled items to do on that day, but I'm still going to spend some time in an attempt to get the house looking good before my Bestie arrives in three weeks. THREE WEEKS -- OMG! I find it hard to believe that the State Fair opens in two weeks, and that my summer is coming to an end so quickly. 

Which of the four seasons is your favorite and why? For 
me, although the heat can be oppressive, it's Summer, 
followed closely neck-in-neck by Spring and Fall. Winter 
falls far behind for me - I'm not fond of shoveling and 
the cold temperatures. 

It's odd, but I suspect it's true for all of us. When we look back on our personal history, we couch it into terms of the season(s) we love the best. For me it's always been the summer. Even though I was an ice skater (never that good, but quite enthusiastic), my skating was primarily done in the summers, while I was in Aspen. The rest of the year I was occupied with school and even though I had a membership (for a short time) at my local ice rink in Denver, it never felt comfortable to me the way my rink in Aspen did. 

Looking at a map, it doesn't look as if the skating rink I 
used in Denver is still open, but that's not surprising. It 
wasn't well managed, and we are talking 50 years 
ago. I just remember it as an unwelcoming place, quite the 
opposite from my ice skating rink in Aspen. 

When I think back on things, it's quite obvious that my parents made every attempt to give me access to the things I truly enjoyed. I got a variety of memberships to swimming pools in the summer months and to places such as the ice skating rink in the winters. I even had a few trips out to Aspen in our "off seasons" or after we had sold one or both of our houses up there. On those occasions I was living with my Aunt who moved up to Aspen permanently in the late 1960's. 

I learned to ski on Buttermilk Mountain in Aspen, 
Colorado. It's a great mountain for that - some 
really nice beginner slopes. My Aunt gave me an 
old set of her skiis and boots. They were REALLY 
old and I probably would have enjoyed skiing a 
lot more with a better set of skiis. But, these were 
what I had, and we didn't have money for rentals. 

The visits, of course, were wonderful and I loved spending time with my Aunt and cousin. I was only up there in the winter once and had the opportunity to learn how to ski (I skied VERY poorly), but it was my summer visits that I still remember best, especially one where my boyfriend/fiance Seth came up and joined us for a few days, then we hitchhiked back to Denver together and I caught a bus home from the bus station so that I was telling the truth and right on the schedule for when I was due back home. I was naughty that way - always pushing the boundaries. 

I don't think I was much different from any other 
teenager trying to push their boundaries, but having 
Seth meet me in Aspen for a few days while my 
Aunt was out of town and I was visiting my 
cousin was VERY naughty of me. Still I planned 
it out perfectly and my folks never suspected at all. 

So today, ask yourself. Have you ever pushed your boundaries? What was the result of that push - did you learn something about yourself? Was it a positive outcome? If not, did you learn something from the experience that turned it positive despite the negatives? That, my friends, is life. Welcome to the show. I'll be back tomorrow, hopefully with a slightly cleaner house, as I progress towards Sharon's arrival on September 1st. Slava Ukraini. 

Friends Are People You Choose and Who Choose You - Age Is Irrelevant to Friendship

I got all of my product photos moved from my phone over to the laptop on Saturday. The best thing about the day, however, was an unexpected visit in the late afternoon from JenyBeth, the daughter of my dear friend Richard. She had come by the store on Wednesday to give me an update about what was happening in her life and her mother's life, but of course it was my day off, and DH can't hear well (at all!), so the news I actually got was seriously minimal. But she dropped by again on Saturday and since the store wasn't busy, we got a chance to get a solid 45 minutes of catch-up done. 

JenyBeth grew into a smart, talented and fun person. I've 
known her since she was born, and I'm so happy with 
the person she is today. It was a joy to see her again. 

JenyBeth's father, Richard, was the brother of Steve - a fellow archaeology student with whom we went to school for our Master's degrees. Steve was the Best Man at our wedding, and when I moved up to Minnesota and DH stayed behind in New Mexico to finish his thesis and defend it, Steve told me his brother Richard lived up here and gave me his phone number. So I called him, invited him over for dinner, and we started a friendship that lasted until he died, quite suddenly, of a massive heart attack, in 2012. 

When I first met Richard, he was engaged to Cindy - a woman from rural Indiana who had Multiple Sclerosis. (I normally wouldn't bother mentioning anyone's illness, but MS defined Cindy - who she was and what she could/couldn't do.) They were married shortly after I was, and moved into an apartment in a nearby suburb. We'd all get together often and DH and I played computer games with Richard on very old systems before there was Apple or IBM computers for the home. He was deep into computers, working for some of the top computer companies over the years. He had very marketable skills. 

Although JenyBeth could certainly be my own 
child, she's someone I consider a dear friend - not 
someone I watched grow up, but someone I can 
talk to easily without the years between us being 
any issue. 

Cindy was pregnant with JenyBeth within the first 1-2 years that I knew her, and the pregnancy was good for her. She was more mobile, and able to walk easier, which was excellent. JenyBeth - then just called Jenny - was born without problems and Richard and Cindy bought a small house in a far northern suburb. It was a bit more of a trip to visit them, but we were still regular visitors and knew everyone over the years. I even went on a long-weekend trip to Chicago with Cindy and we had a great time together. But over the years, Cindy changed. Her illness became more pronounced, she was more wheelchair bound, and she dove deeply into the church, becoming a bit too focused on it for my comfort levels. 

After Richard died, I visited Cindy a few times, helping her with things that were impossible for her to do - climbing onto ladders to pull down or replace curtain rods and draperies, and other such things. I was happy to do it, but I had never established a great friendship with Cindy. She was uncomfortable with my lack of "faith" and I was uncomfortable with her need to "convert" me. Richard and JenyBeth were my friends in that family. I missed Richard terribly, and JenyBeth was living in Indiana, but planning on moving back eventually. Still, I kept in touch with them, just not very intensively. 

I don't have a lot of really close friends. My 
BFF Sharon, my friend since High School, 
has been a friend for more than 50 years 
now. JenyBeth has been a friend since she 
matured into a wonderfully intelligent and 
imaginative young woman. There's certainly 
an age difference, but that only matters if 
both of us care about it. We don't. LOL

It was truly wonderful to get a good catch-up with JenyBeth and find out some of the crap her Mom had been dealing out to her. Cindy is now in Assisted Living and the county will take over and own the house, but until they do, JenyBeth will live there. She's got a roommate to share expenses, and they're cleaning out the house and re-doing it, one room at a time. Anything will be an improvement - it hasn't been updated since they purchased it in the early 1980's. I'll stay in touch with JenyBeth, she's dear to my heart. And I'll hope for the best for Cindy, but I won't go out of my way to see her. I'll leave visits up to her church friends and I'll stick with the family I chose long ago when I first met my good friend Richard. 

Well, this went on far longer than I'd planned, so I'm out of here. I'm NOT going to do serious photos for this - just a couple to break up the paragraphs. I hope all of you have a fabulous Monday and I'll be back tomorrow. Slava Ukraini. 

An Unusual Sunday Post - The Axe Forgets; the Tree Remembers - Real Life

I'm sure my writing friends are aware of how it can be, when a theme or story perches in your brain and simply won't leave until it's written down. Last night I was assaulted by one of these. Actually, to be perfectly truthful, it had been running through my mind for more than a couple of days. But I really didn't want to write it down, because of uncomfortable, tragic family history, and because I don't share personal stories that often. 

However ... that being said, and since I passed Post #4000 in my blog a few days ago, I've decided to make it public - at least to those of you who read my blog and posts on DW and LJ. So, to honor my own heritage and the theme of the last writing challenge, here's my second entry for Prompt 4, "The axe forgets; the tree remembers". 

 

The Axe Forgets but the Tree Remembers - Ukraine and Poland

 

The missiles and the bombs continue to fall. The spokespeople speak, the newscasters analyze, and the pundits make statements to claim their ten minutes of fame accumulated over multiple sound bites. The photographers have it harder - their documents and fame require in-person experience and presence. All, those reporting and those watching the reports, are affected. All are shaken; but what of my thoughts, my past?

 

When I think of Ukraine, I think of Babi Yar, that ravine west of Kiev, and the bodies piling up over two days. Men, women and children shot and pushed into the ravine, buried beneath the corpses of the next wave. More than 33,500 Jews killed in that ravine in two days. It was the Nazis perpetrating this atrocity, but it was in Ukraine. The axe doesn't remember, but the tree will never forget.

 

Then there is the ally to consider. Poland has graciously opened their borders, hearts and homes to more than 2 million Ukrainian refugees. The best of human nature has come to the front. Yet, when I think of Poland, it is not the generosity of today's people; it is the stony and calculated "selective blindness" and turned backs of those in the not-so-distant past -It isn't the welcoming arms of aid workers; it's the looming gates and burning fires of Chelmno, Sobibor, Belzec, Treblinka, Majdanek and Auschwitz-Birkenau that immediately come to my mind. Once again the axe doesn't remember, but the tree will never forget.

 

As I watch the battles and cheer on the Ukrainians in their fight against the Soviet troops, I also remember the past. While I thank the Polish people for their open hearts and helping hands, I also remember those who were not welcome. I cannot forget the past - the concentration camp where my father's parents found their deaths and the landscapes where my Uncles and Aunts fought with the Resistance against the Nazis. I cannot turn my back on my own history tied up with those horrific places whose names are burned into my memory. The Ukraine and Poland are a part of my personal history, there to remain forever.

 

I pray for freedom and peace for Ukraine, but I also remember the promises of "never allow this to happen again". To me, these days, it seems as though in some ways, we are doomed to repeat our history and relive our inhumanity again and again. The axe doesn't remember but the tree, my family tree, will never forget.  

 

 

Habits, A Bit of Personal History, and Looking Ahead Into a New Sunrise

My usual Friday Zoom calls are now on Wednesday, and that's left me looking at my calendar, wondering what is missing. It's rather amazing how quickly something can become a habit. I have plenty of computer things and on-line classes to try and catch up on, so I won't be bored. I'll still be sitting in front of a computer screen for much of the day. But habits, once formed and etched into our souls through repetition, can be difficult to overwrite. 

Habits form from repetition, and repetition really 
strikes when conditions are wide open and you 
are receptive to those conditions. Choose carefully. 
You only want habits to be Constructive, not 
Destructive. 

It's reliance on habit that can cause deadly habits to form, send down roots, and finally, kill. It's habit when a smoker pulls out their next cigarette. It's habit when a drug addict turns to their next fix. And sometimes it's habit when a parent raises a hand to a child. Either habit ... or conditioning. 

Habit v Conditioning - it's a pathway that has been 
studied for years, but it's still a bit of a mystery. I 
looked through dozens of graphics, but ended up with one 
of the simplest. Associative Learning leads 
to Classical Conditioning and Operant Conditioning. 
Non-associative Learning leads to Habituation 
and Sensitization. Observational Learning 
is on it's own platform. 

Raising a hand to a child is often conditioning - poor parenting from their own parents being carried through to the next generation. When you add external pressures to the mix, pressures like low income, poor education, inability to find work that pays a living wage, and inability to take time to find better jobs, you've got a downward spiraling situation. In the middle of all of that, those most innocent, the children, are also apt to be the least vocal and most convenient victims. 

This wasn't me, although it potentially could have 
been DH since we were both adopted, but he was 
born in St Paul. However, what really gets me on 
this headline from the Minneapolis Paper sometime 
in the 1950's is the headline - "Babies Who 'Have No 
Right to be Born'". Wow. Just Wow. 

I was born in the last century during a time when having a baby outside of marriage was frowned on. My mother, engaged to a man who was not my father, abandoned me at birth to start a new family with a new man, and I was left to find my own way. I had wonderful adoptive parents - I was extremely fortunate in who raised me. But underneath everything is always that thought that I had been tossed away like an old pair of shoes or a threadbare sock. There are times when that comes back to haunt me. 

My Chakra Healing class teaches that the root chakra 
forms around your earliest days - whether you were 
held closely and felt love, whether you felt safe. My 
WildFit program dates some things back to whether you 
were breast fed or bottle fed. So many things go back 
to the early days of your life. Mine was institutional, so 
I guarantee I was bottle fed. As for cuddled? Maybe. 
Sometimes. 

I never searched for my birth mother - I never wanted to see her, meet her, see if there was another family where I "belonged". Mom and Dad were willing to help me as much as they could, but I didn't have an interest. I still don't. It's unlikely that my birth mother is still living, after all, I'm in my 60's now. But looking at things through a long lens, I have to say I'm grateful I was a throw-away. Because of that, I got great adoptive parents, had a loving household, went to good schools, and married a man who is frustrating in the extreme, but who loves me none-the-less. I've had a good life, and I expect to continue having a good life for as many more years as I'm given (hopefully at least two more decades). 

Every sunrise offers us new opportunities and a 
chance for a new beginning. You can dwell on 
the past, but that won't move you forward. Choose 
instead to focus on the path ahead, rather than 
the road already traveled. Learn from the past, 
but don't dwell on it. 

Are you lucky in your life? Have you had times in your life when you felt worthless, but picked yourself back up, shook the mud from your fur, and rejoined the human race? I think we all have times of doubt and feelings of low self-worth. The key to success is pushing through those days and waking to new possibilities, new experiences, and new things to love. A new sunrise is a new start. Have an excellent day. I'll be back tomorrow. Please remember to be kind, and stay safe.