Maggie Reminds Me

The other day as I watched my older dog, Maggie, stretch, I was reminded of how similar we are! This is particularly true when she slowly stands up from a long nap. First she looks around to orient herself. Then the tentative first few steps are taken. Next comes the long stretch that we all call Downward Dog in yoga. At this point Maggie is ready for the next adventures!

Yes, on some days the above description could be me in the early morning as I get out of bed. I gingerly take my first steps as I check out all my body limbs. And soon I am ready for the adventures of the day.

By: Kirsten Hartman

Advice from Granny Gert

Gertrude Amy Eve Payton

I ran across some advice from my grandmother sent to me many years ago. It struck me that they just might have some relevance for today.

Since you will be teaching, you won’t require too many dresses and clothes. You won’t have time to wear them and fashions soon change…

The state of happiness in this world is to bring your wants down to just requirements.

Don’t buy anything on “hire purchase,” (meaning credit). That is like living a lie to world, having things you can’t afford to pay for. Pare down and don’t owe a penny.

Life these days is not easy. The old Victorian days were slow but sure, heavy going and thrifty. Leave cocktails and smoking alone: two ways for money to vanish.

Granny Gert had four children and was widowed when the oldest was ten. Money was scarce and she often prefaced a purchase with: “Now, I’m a widow with four children…implying that she was owed some kind of a deal!

She was also famous for expressions such as:  “If you're as big as a house, you’ll obey me!” and:

“Home, the place where you grumble the most and are treated the best.”

She lived her whole life in England. In her 70s she boarded a freighter for a six-week trip to visit her daughter (my mother) and family in Seattle, Washington. Her favorite activity while there was to take a bus downtown to the skid row area and see a movie. It cost her 15 cents.

By: Libby James

Happy Birthday Bess

Happy birthday, Mom. In a few days you would have been turning 115.

I never expected you to become that old, but when you died a few days after your 57^thbirthday, I had not had enough time with you. I had two young children at the time, but there were two more to come and I don’t like the fact that you never knew them or any of your dozen great grandkids that they produced. You would have been the ultimate grand and great grandmother.

I remember you:

Because of your joy in life: Whoever said the Brits didn’t have a sense of humor? Yours was the best. You had a sparkle in your eye, an infectious smile, and you weren’t above fluttering your eyelids. You would have loved laughing with your grandkids and telling them stories of your youthful exploits such as buying a forbidden motorcycle and vacationing in South Africa.

 Because of your life journey: It took you from Harold Wood in Essex County to London for secretarial work where you met an American during his first week in your country and married him less than a year later. Little did you know that you would follow him to the U.S. even though he had promised to live in England forever. That you would bear him three children, the last one born when you were in your forties and not so happy to redo the infant phase another time and in a strange country.

Because you managed to remain loyal to your homeland: You refused to become an American citizen at the same time embracing the country where you lived and making lifelong friends in the U.S.

Because of your love of sports: When your front teeth were knocked loose with a hockey stick, your mother pressed them back into your mouth and told you to put pressure on them. You always had slightly protruding front teeth but they were your own.

Because you learned to live so many miles away from all your birth family: You welcomed your mother to Seattle for a long stay. She arrived as one of a very few passengers on a freighter that took six weeks to travel through the Panama Canal. She was a welcome addition to our family for those months.

Because you were a loyal friend to so many people: You lighted up their lives. You were a friend in need. You were a talented cook and hostess and always ready for a party.

Because you provided a rudder, a stabilizing influence for your husband: You stuck by him when his itchy feet and issues with authority caused him some workplace  problems that caused moves that were not always welcome.

Enough already. Happy birthday Bess. I remember a little poem you shared:

Here lies a woman who always was tired.

She lived in a house where help wasn’t hired.

Don’t mourn for me now.

Don’t mourn for me never.

I’m going to do nothing forever and ever.

By: Libby James

Contest Winner

 It is with excitement that we  ( Still Wise Cracking Bloggers) announce that Bonnie Shetler won our recent contest! She had the most comments on her blog about her new e-bike! Now we’re looking forward to more blogs about their adventures!

By: Kirsten Hartman

Nature's plans

Tuesday, November 26.2019. I had a schedule for today - people to see, groceries to buy, things to do in town. But this was the view out the front windows when I walked into the living room early this morning. It contained a message from Mother Nature - "I am in charge here.  So grab your book, put your feet up, forget about your plans, relax, and just be with me for a while.  Try it. You'll like it"

OK.  Sounds like a plan to me.

By: Bonnie Shetler

Morning Bike Ride

ADLIBS

A mile west and a few yards north of my house, my favorite bike route begins. It's a 12-mile ribbon of road that becomes increasingly rural as it heads north. After about four miles, the traffic becomes  sparse and riding becomes relaxing.

It's been too long since I've been here, though for more than 20 years, I rode this way quite regularly. I know the landmarks, from the railroad tracks that cross the road to the power plant, the farm houses, the side roads that say "no outlet," and a few places where I need to shift into a lower gear to summit a hill.

My favorite landmark lies about 11 miles into the route behind a fence, on top of a little hill. It must have been home to a farm family long ago, but for at least the last 20 years, I have been watching it slowly sink toward the ground. I have a series of photos documenting its decline and the changing shape of its roofline as it slips toward oblivion.

The place has always fascinated me.  This morning, as I drew close to it, I began to wonder if it still existed. I was fully prepared to see an empty spot on the hillside where it once stood. But no. It has taken on a new look. It seemed larger to me, even though it's lower to the ground, and somehow more spread out.

Because it is behind a fence, and because it is falling apart, I have always observed it from a distance. But this morning, I discovered a path that allowed me to go closer and to get a more satisfying photo of it.

I was happy to see the old place hanging together despite the passing years. And I was happy to know that I can still ride with pleasure for a couple of hours, despite the passing years.

I'll be back.

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By: Libby James

Birthday presents

I just finished writing a birthday card to Jacqueline, my soon-to-be 22-year-old granddaughter. I slipped a $50 bill into the card.

And then I got to thinking. I added a note to explain to her that I really didn’t like sending money but that it did seem better than sending a gift that she might not need or want. I know how much money she makes as a brand new registered nurse and I know that $50 is a drop in the proverbial bucket.

Then I got to thinking and decided to share a small bit of family history with her. I remembered that Evelyn, my husband’s only aunt and great aunt to my children, never forgot any of their birthdays. 

On each occasion she sent a little white card with a cute sticker on it to the birthday boy or girl. Taped next to the sticker was a quarter. In the same envelope were another three little white cards with the other kids’ names on them, stickers, and with a shiny dime attached for each of them.

A quarter wasn’t much, even a half century ago. The money was not the point.  She remembered their birthdays and their unbirthdays as well, and that was what mattered.

I’m hoping that Jacqueline will understand and get a chuckle out of that bit of history.

By: Libby James