A little while ago i was sitting on my bed reading and i glanced up at the fish tank and oh dear! the two fishies were at the top gasping for air and i suddenly realized i had not changed the filter or the water for a couple months. I feed Jo-an and Jackson every day and periodically add water but i had just forgotten to attend to their living habitat for two or three months. It's a pain, and messy, and time consuming but i've never really minded up till just recently. I've been distracted.
They live in water but need oxygen and that's why i have pumps and filters. In fact i got an extra pump as i noticed several months ago that Jackson especially was up top most of the time, i think wanting air. I was out of the one filter type and needed to make a trip to the pet shop and haven't been in the mood.
I started to realize if i didn't get busy and change the water i would no longer have the pleasure of their company for much longer. I really love my fish. Never wanted a cat or a dog. I wanted fish.
I wonder if that's what it's like if you forget you have children. I've never forgotten i have children but i have been frustrated and tired of having to be the emotional support at times. I'm sure most parents get that feeling.
I attended to them when they were small and as they grew older they needed me less and less and i had to start letting go. But do we really ever let go. I think not. Life happens and we are called upon again and again to be a support and life line in their lives.
It seems to be a constant renewal of the love and affection given and received that we all need. My children need me and i need them. My fish need me and i need them. Sometimes we just forget their importance and give in to the day to day problems and distractions. Then we get back on point.
Saturday, March 30, 2013
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Confessions of a Snob
The family i grew up in included myself, five brothers, and a sister who came along right before i flew the coup. Both parents worked to support us. We managed to eat, play, have presents at Christmas and birthday, have camping vacations, survive illnesses, strikes, hard times, and grow up to be healthy productive human beings.
We worked when we were old enough. The money i made working at a bar-b-que grill, and retail, and cleaning, bought me some clothing, shoes i wanted, and paid for some of the extra curricular activities at the Catholic school we all attended. The parish subsidized some of the tuition. My dad insisted we attend a Catholic school and not leave the system till we graduated. We all fulfilled my dad's wishes.
The snob in me came out the first time my mother made me a dress for the winter formal. More than anything i wanted a store bought beautiful gown like my friends. I knew we couldn't afford so i tried to be compliant when mom said she would make me one. I look back on those pictures of me in my dresses that mom made and realize just how incredibly talented and creative my mom was. I think i tried to be grateful to her but i feel, looking back, that i was pretty ungrateful. I'm embarrassed now.
One year the girls in my class were asked to model for a style show given by Bourlson's. THE store for designer clothes in Medford. I was a size 5-7 which would be maybe a 0 or 2 now. There was a navy blue beautiful dress with fabulous detail i modeled, that fit me perfectly. We would have a discount for the clothes we modeled but at $27 the dress was wayyyyyy beyond what i could afford. Wouldn't ya know that not two days later i saw J. O. walking around with MY dress on. For her it wasn't a special dress it was a casual everyday dress. Oh how i wanted that dress. My mom must have wished she could afford that dress for me.
I saved to buy a White Stag jacket and it was stolen I saved at one time in my life to buy a Coach handbag and it was stolen My want for the brand name items has not really worked out but it still doesn't mean i don't want them.
My priorities have shifted as i've aged. Maybe it's maturity or reality i don't know. Thrift stores (i managed one) are not my favorite places, neither are 99 cent stores or discount stores or Walmart or Kmart etc. I will shop in them but part of me is still the young girl who yearns for the brand name and upscale style to which i probably am better off not to have become accustomed too.
Mom and Dad did a pretty all right job with the brood. We turned out to be decent human beings and have contributed our share to the planet with fabulous children and grandchildren. I find myself wanting to be able to afford more for my kids and grand kid. I wish i could but i can't. I'm a happy, satisfied human today with a few twinges of regret at the attitude i sometimes showed to my parents. I think i was just born that way. Nature vs Nurture.
We worked when we were old enough. The money i made working at a bar-b-que grill, and retail, and cleaning, bought me some clothing, shoes i wanted, and paid for some of the extra curricular activities at the Catholic school we all attended. The parish subsidized some of the tuition. My dad insisted we attend a Catholic school and not leave the system till we graduated. We all fulfilled my dad's wishes.
The snob in me came out the first time my mother made me a dress for the winter formal. More than anything i wanted a store bought beautiful gown like my friends. I knew we couldn't afford so i tried to be compliant when mom said she would make me one. I look back on those pictures of me in my dresses that mom made and realize just how incredibly talented and creative my mom was. I think i tried to be grateful to her but i feel, looking back, that i was pretty ungrateful. I'm embarrassed now.
One year the girls in my class were asked to model for a style show given by Bourlson's. THE store for designer clothes in Medford. I was a size 5-7 which would be maybe a 0 or 2 now. There was a navy blue beautiful dress with fabulous detail i modeled, that fit me perfectly. We would have a discount for the clothes we modeled but at $27 the dress was wayyyyyy beyond what i could afford. Wouldn't ya know that not two days later i saw J. O. walking around with MY dress on. For her it wasn't a special dress it was a casual everyday dress. Oh how i wanted that dress. My mom must have wished she could afford that dress for me.
I saved to buy a White Stag jacket and it was stolen I saved at one time in my life to buy a Coach handbag and it was stolen My want for the brand name items has not really worked out but it still doesn't mean i don't want them.
My priorities have shifted as i've aged. Maybe it's maturity or reality i don't know. Thrift stores (i managed one) are not my favorite places, neither are 99 cent stores or discount stores or Walmart or Kmart etc. I will shop in them but part of me is still the young girl who yearns for the brand name and upscale style to which i probably am better off not to have become accustomed too.
Mom and Dad did a pretty all right job with the brood. We turned out to be decent human beings and have contributed our share to the planet with fabulous children and grandchildren. I find myself wanting to be able to afford more for my kids and grand kid. I wish i could but i can't. I'm a happy, satisfied human today with a few twinges of regret at the attitude i sometimes showed to my parents. I think i was just born that way. Nature vs Nurture.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Pet Peeve Du jour Lottery
For one person to win over 338 million dollars is a crime and a mortal sin. Morally reprehensible. The winner will undoubtedly spread the wealth around to his family and friends. That's not the point. That much money from a lottery at one time makes my skin crawl. And NO i would NOT want it.
PPDJ Pope jokes
The Vatican has gone through history making changed recently. Even though i agree changes need to be made and wrongs need to be righted i am getting sick in the heart at some of the totally inappropriate jokes being made at the pope's expense. We were not there. I don't totally trust the powers either. I do want to give at least the highest ranking cleric the benefit of the doubt that he will make appropriate changes. Maybe it's too late---i don't know--only the One that rules knows.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
From the Farm to the Big City
For several weeks I have been toying with the idea of taking a writing class. A free class is what I wanted but a free class doesn't get me what I want in order to accomplish my goal.
The time arrived this morning to head out and sign up for the class I decided I needed. I wanted to be comfortable and presentable. I felt dressed appropriately for the adventure. I felt good-- kinda hip and ready to tackle the college way.
It was pouring out so I felt immediately at home as I love bad weather and seem to thrive when I'm out . The bus was full. Most of the wet passengers were grumpy and scowling. I had done my research though and knew to transfer at Lincoln Center. The bus goes east across Central Park and emerges at Fifth Avenue then proceeds on Fifth then turns on Madison Avenue. Ta Da!!! A whole new world of want opens up. Store fronts full of up scale expensive merchandise, bright colorful windows filled with designer clothing and on and on and on.
I was born and raised in Medford, Oregon and wanted to be in New York City most of my life. I've been here now for 21 years so it's not like I'm new to this but today was different for some reason. I felt like a small town girl coming to the big city for the first time.
I live in Hell's Kitchen on the west side. I love my neighborhood and wouldn't change to the east side for anything. Traveling to the east side is a change of everything in this city. But i made it and was ready to tackle Hunter College.
OMG what a deal. As i was walking in the right direction finally, I glanced in the window and saw an older, overweight, some would say, eccentric looking women, looking back. Oh dear!!! Can I really pull this off. I'm here now so go for it. It turned out that my purple nails matched the school colors and was brought to my attention several times.
Kids, lots of kids. I'm stopped by security as I try to go through the gate. "Where are you going--you can't go in there". Oops!!
The kind security man points me in the right direction with explicit directions as to how to get to the east building after you take the escalator in the west building (which isn't working) get off on floor 3 and take the bridge across to the east building then take the elevator that's down the hall on the left, up to the 11th floor and on and on and on. OMG. After several stops and pleas for help I find what I need. It's lunch--doors are closed except for a few. I walk past several and finally stop at one in which sits a man who seems comfortably set to work. He greats me and asks if he can help. PLEASE. I explain why I'm here and plead old and poor. He informs me of the senior discount and suggested a couple classes and the free lectures. The class I have chosen to take was met with his approval and the instructor was given his praise. He was fabulous at making me feel welcomed and comfortable. Thank you Lewis!
People couldn't have been nicer. When registration for Continuing Education opened, I was greeted and helped and signed up for a writing class that fits my needs and pocketbook. Thank you Nora!
Getting out of the school was almost as bad as getting in. I'm direction challenged anyway but after finally getting on the right bus (yes i got on a bus going in the wrong direction) I arrived back in my beloved Hell's Kitchen proud of the fact that i am going back to school at age 71 to take a writing class. Stay tuned for the next Hunter College chapter as I go from farm girl to city girl in NYC.
The time arrived this morning to head out and sign up for the class I decided I needed. I wanted to be comfortable and presentable. I felt dressed appropriately for the adventure. I felt good-- kinda hip and ready to tackle the college way.
It was pouring out so I felt immediately at home as I love bad weather and seem to thrive when I'm out . The bus was full. Most of the wet passengers were grumpy and scowling. I had done my research though and knew to transfer at Lincoln Center. The bus goes east across Central Park and emerges at Fifth Avenue then proceeds on Fifth then turns on Madison Avenue. Ta Da!!! A whole new world of want opens up. Store fronts full of up scale expensive merchandise, bright colorful windows filled with designer clothing and on and on and on.
I was born and raised in Medford, Oregon and wanted to be in New York City most of my life. I've been here now for 21 years so it's not like I'm new to this but today was different for some reason. I felt like a small town girl coming to the big city for the first time.
I live in Hell's Kitchen on the west side. I love my neighborhood and wouldn't change to the east side for anything. Traveling to the east side is a change of everything in this city. But i made it and was ready to tackle Hunter College.
OMG what a deal. As i was walking in the right direction finally, I glanced in the window and saw an older, overweight, some would say, eccentric looking women, looking back. Oh dear!!! Can I really pull this off. I'm here now so go for it. It turned out that my purple nails matched the school colors and was brought to my attention several times.
Kids, lots of kids. I'm stopped by security as I try to go through the gate. "Where are you going--you can't go in there". Oops!!
The kind security man points me in the right direction with explicit directions as to how to get to the east building after you take the escalator in the west building (which isn't working) get off on floor 3 and take the bridge across to the east building then take the elevator that's down the hall on the left, up to the 11th floor and on and on and on. OMG. After several stops and pleas for help I find what I need. It's lunch--doors are closed except for a few. I walk past several and finally stop at one in which sits a man who seems comfortably set to work. He greats me and asks if he can help. PLEASE. I explain why I'm here and plead old and poor. He informs me of the senior discount and suggested a couple classes and the free lectures. The class I have chosen to take was met with his approval and the instructor was given his praise. He was fabulous at making me feel welcomed and comfortable. Thank you Lewis!
People couldn't have been nicer. When registration for Continuing Education opened, I was greeted and helped and signed up for a writing class that fits my needs and pocketbook. Thank you Nora!
Getting out of the school was almost as bad as getting in. I'm direction challenged anyway but after finally getting on the right bus (yes i got on a bus going in the wrong direction) I arrived back in my beloved Hell's Kitchen proud of the fact that i am going back to school at age 71 to take a writing class. Stay tuned for the next Hunter College chapter as I go from farm girl to city girl in NYC.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
PPDJ Bobble Head
Have you noticed how most of the beautiful women/girls in the beauty pageants, and the magazine and fashion models, all look alike. I know i'm older but i swear i can't tell some of them apart. I have also noted that more and more of the women in the public eye look like bobble heads Thin, thin bodies and big heads. All they need is a spring to connect the two. The horrible thing to me is that the men are beginning to look the same and for one who likes some meat on the bones of my men, it's a shame.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Back to school. What?????
In the next few days i want to make a trip to Hunter college, cross town, and sign up for a continuing education writing class. The decision has been long in the making. I am not interested in credit or a degree i just want to learn, or relearn, how to write using composition and correct construction. I am needing guidance and encouragement.
The blog is good for my brain and imagination. It is really a learning tool. Not many people read it so i have felt free to explore and just write. There is no one to criticize or correct with a big fat RED pencil. But hay--i'm no longer a young girl or women. I am proudly a women of a certain age who has lived and loved and made mistakes and had success and failure and I feel that now is the time for me to put my pen where my mouth is.
In the early 1990's i wrote a piece for a news letter called "I am Crazy" It was a personal account of a part of my life that was painful. Since then the road to here and now has been bumpy, and yet healing and rewarding. I want to expand on the piece and bring it up to date. The piece is timely and could be of help to someone maybe many.
So.......I said good buy to my fabulous therapist of many years and am ready to start on a new road. Time will tell.
In the mean time i'm blogging, and telling, and posting my Pet Peeve DeJour. Or PPDJ.
.
The blog is good for my brain and imagination. It is really a learning tool. Not many people read it so i have felt free to explore and just write. There is no one to criticize or correct with a big fat RED pencil. But hay--i'm no longer a young girl or women. I am proudly a women of a certain age who has lived and loved and made mistakes and had success and failure and I feel that now is the time for me to put my pen where my mouth is.
In the early 1990's i wrote a piece for a news letter called "I am Crazy" It was a personal account of a part of my life that was painful. Since then the road to here and now has been bumpy, and yet healing and rewarding. I want to expand on the piece and bring it up to date. The piece is timely and could be of help to someone maybe many.
So.......I said good buy to my fabulous therapist of many years and am ready to start on a new road. Time will tell.
In the mean time i'm blogging, and telling, and posting my Pet Peeve DeJour. Or PPDJ.
.
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