I was born in deep southwest Arkansas [on the border, in fact] one sultry August day. My mother told me that it was one of the hottest days that year, and, in fact, I wasn't due to make my first appearance for another 3 weeks. My mother was over at her sister's house because Aunt Marynell had big trees in her backyard and it caught the breeze well. Such things really did mean a lot back then, especially when dealing with a Texarkana heat wave. Daddy was off in Pine Bluff fishing that weekend...another thing you did to beat the heat: get out on the water. My mother was enjoying a nice iced coffee and a Chesterfield under my Aunt's trees when I decided that it was too hot where I was, so I thought I'd see if it was any better outside. I arrived at the hottest part of the day...mother said it was 98 degrees or there abouts.

After a day or so [I had to stay a little longer since I was "early"] my proud mother and father took me home ... to a little duplex on the Texas side, where my sister was waiting for me [well, sort of] The house had no air conditioning, and no swamp cooler, and no sleeping porch, and only one big magnolia tree in the front yard. But there were fans...one in the room I shared with my sister, one in my parents' bedroom, and one that moved back and forth between the kitchen/dining room and the living room depending on where we were. We had screens on all the windows and doors, so the house was pretty much "open" all the time. [These were the days when nobody was afraid to leave themselves "unlocked", day or night]

My mother had an old wringer washing machine and a couple of nice clotheslines to hang our wash on. However, on really, really hot days I remember her piling all those wet clothes and us into the car, and heading over to the little laundromat near the military base. There, she would sacrifice a few of her "hen money" quarters to dry our clothes in air-conditioned comfort. Then usually, on the way home, we'd stop at the market and she'd get us a popcicle and herself a cold drink. The store had air conditioning, too, so it always seemed to take us a long time to pick out those treats.  Then it was back to the house, and maybe mother would squirt us with the hose, or let us jump through the sprinkler. We just did our best to not melt, to wait out the daylight and hope for a good night breeze.

So why am I sharing this bit of nostalgia with all of you? Well, my air conditioning has been "out" since sometime Wednesday night. I could not afford to call about it until after the first. Tomorrow I will call the repair service and take the first slot they can give me. It's a busy time of year, though, so it might be a few days. [and I simply can't afford the extra charge to be pushed up the list as an "emergency"] So here I am, in June, in south-central Texas, with daytime temperatures climbing to the mid-to-high 90's, and no air conditioning. There's nothing I can do about it, so it just got me thinking about the fact that A/C really didn't factor into my life much until I was a grown woman. And I've been recalling all the creative things we used to do to beat the heat. I thought it might be fun to jar your memories and maybe you could share some of the things you went through. I don't know. Maybe all y'all had A/C all your lives. But if you didn't, why not take this opportunity to share some stories?!!

I now return you to your regularly-scheduled lives ...

Tags: Lifestyles Of The Old and Challenged

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My on-line friend, Donna , shared the fact that her kids were now "out" for the summer, and it got me to thinking about school years, and schedules and such. Now, I only ever had one kid and she's all grown up now [more or less] so I guess it really doesn't matter any more ... but that's never stopped me from having an opinion before, so why start now?

When I was in school, the time we were in school was very simple: We started our school year on the Tuesday following Labor Day, and our last day of school was always the Friday before Memorial Day. And then we had three whole glorious months to ourselves. Yes...June, July, and August were ours. In elementary school and junior high they were given over to play, and vacations, and play, and being sometimes bored, and play...you get the picture. In high school, those of us who could found jobs and were real wage-earning "somebodies". We had three whole months to earn, and save, and yes, spend, too. We rarely held after-school jobs, mostly because our parents wanted us to concentrate on our studies, but also because we'd had the opportunity to earn during the summer.

These days, however, it seems that since the system wasn't broken, many school districts have decided that it needs to be fixed. School is starting earlier and earlier every year. There are even some schools who have hammered out schedules that have the kids in school virtually year-round. Experts tell us that the reason for this is that they have determined a child needs between 185 and 195 "educational days" per school year and the only way to get them all in is to have an extended year.

I went back and had a look at the "old" way, and it turns out, we actually averaged about 183 days of "educational days". Now...what's the difference? Well, for one thing, we didn't have nearly the time off during the year that kids seem to have now. Our school holidays were Veteran's Day, Thanksgiving [we also got the Friday after Thanksgiving], Christmas [which was bundled into the Christmas/New Year break...which started around December 22-23, and went until January 2] Washington's Birthday, Lincoln's Birthday, Good Friday [which was usually right before spring break] and then, of course, school ended at close of business the Friday before Memorial Day. Oh, and here in San Antonio, because of so many kids participating in the FFA, 4-H and the like, we got a day off during the Livestock Show and Rodeo so that our students could compete.

Nowadays, it seems that the kids are off every single month for something or another. New holidays? Martin Luther King Day. Columbus Day [it was a holiday back then, too, but we certainly didn't get off school] And Thanksgiving is now a week-long holiday. During the school year, there are at least 8 days lost to "teacher work days". When we were in school and had finals, we had them all at once...you went to your regular class, you took your final, and then you moved on to your next class, and you took the final there, etc. Now, they have "special days" for finals....and if you don't have a final scheduled for that day, you don't have to show up. The whole school is up and running and staffed for maybe half the students. Christmas vacation [oh, excuse me, I guess that ought to be "winter break"] is now a 3-week vacation, and not only do we have a 4-day break at Easter, but there's an additional week off at a completely different time for "spring break". 

It seems to me if the schools would stop wasting so much time, they could easily go back to the "traditional" schedule and have all the "educational days" they could possibly need. And maybe if the schools would actually start teaching new material instead of teaching just to pass some state-mandated tests [in order to qualify for more federal money], then maybe the quality of the education our students are getting would improve. What do YOU think?

I now return you to your regularly scheduled life ...

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Before I was a Mom, I had a name ... three of them, in fact; a first, middle, and last. But almost 35 years ago, I became "Hannah's Mom", and that's been my name ever since.

Before I was a Mom, I had a pretty exciting, full life. [Or so I thought] I had a job that paid as well as my husband. I was surrounded by intelligent, interesting people, some whom were considered to be the leaders in their fields. I lunched with top executives. I "dinnered" with a wide variety of multitalented, multicultured folks. A fine night out was a trip to the theatre and maybe a stop-in at a local trendy bistro for a late-night latte with a snifter of brandy.

Before I became a Mom, I had never in my life been peed on, pooped on, or barfed on. Oh, I had babysat in my youth, but never for babies [back then, mothers didn't generally leave their kids to "strangers" until at least they'd been potty-trained]

Before I became a Mom, I kept a spotless house. Everything had its place and was kept there. If I did three loads of laundry in a week, it was a pretty dirty week. I never had dishes standing in the sink. I never had to carry a flashlight with me in the dark so that I wouldn't stumble over George the Giraffe or Hillary the Hippo. A meal of beans and weenies was far too plebian for a gourmet like me. 

Before I became a Mom I traveled to some of the neatest places on earth. London, Paris, Rome, Tokyo, Mexico City, Cozumel, Mazatlan ... not to mention just about every state in the CONUS. The nearest I ever got to an amusement park was when I was a teen and 6 Flags Over Texas was "new" in Arlington.

Before I was a Mom, I had absolutely no idea what love was. Oh, I'd proclaimed my love many times in my life...but I didn't KNOW about love.  On the day I woke up in the SICU and they placed that wiggly little miracle in my arms, was the day my life really began...the day that I understood, for the first time in my life, what love really, truly was.

Before I became a Mom, I never realized the fun of wearing my old cloth coat one more year so that I could buy that faux rabbit stole that a certain little princess just had to have. Before I became a Mom, I never realized just how much fun Disney World could be...and the zoo!! How on earth did I ever live without trips to the zoo??

Before I became a Mom, if I went looking for a new car, I looked at color, at style, and the "cool factor". All of a sudden, "utility" and "gas mileage" and "space" became far more important.

Before I became a Mom, I didn't know what it was like to walk around with somebody else's heart in my body. I didn't know the terror of sitting up in my bed in the middle of the night, waiting for the phone to ring, and praying to any G-d I could think of that it never would.

Before I became a Mom, I had no idea just what I'd put my own mother through so many years ago....without ever meaning to or even noticing what I was doing.  I never once stopped to consider the questions I should've asked her, and the answers I should've known ... "What were your aspirations? ... What did you want to be? ... Where did you want to go? ... What did you give up, what dreams were put on hold or given up entirely, just so that you could concentrate on helping me to fulfill MY dreams?"

This coming May I will observe my 10th Mother's Day without her, and there's not a day that goes by that I don't wish with all my heart that I could have her back with me for just a few moments, just so I could say to her: "Thanks, Mom. I know now. I really, really do..."

I now return you to your regularly scheduled life ...

Tags: Just remembering

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Tonight when it rises, we will all be able to enjoy the glory of this year's "Pink Moon", so-called by Indigenous Americans because this was the month when the pink phlox usually covered the ground, it being one of the most widespread wildflower/groundcovers around. It is also know in religious circles as the "Paschal Moon", because it was used to determine when Easter would fall. According to the rules set up by the Catholic Church way back when, Easter was to be celebrated the Sunday after the first full moon after the spring equinox. Confused yet? LOLOL ...

Anyway, naming the full moon according to the conditions of life at the time was something that the Indigenous Americans did. Here follows a list of the most common moon names...and the dates they'll happen the rest of this year. [I didn't include dates for January, February, and March for obvious reasons...]

January...The Wolf Moon

February...The Snow Moon

March...The Worm Moon

April...The Pink Moon...April 6th [see above]

May...The Flower Moon...May 5th

June...The Strawberry Moon...June 4th

July...The Buck Moon...July 3rd

August...The Sturgeon Moon...August 1st

August...The Corn Moon...August 31. [Since this is the second full moon of August, it is also one of those "blue moons" you hear talked about]

September...The Harvest Moon...September 29th

October...The Hunter's Moon...October 29th

November...The Beaver Moon...November 28th

December...The Cold Moon...December 28th

And remember how you've always heard that people go a little nutty when there's a full moon? Well, scientific studies have shown that there really isn't any statistical increase in crime or craziness on nights where there's a full moon. They may be right...but having worked both a hospital Emergency Room and a Stop-n-Rob store during full moon times, I only know what I've seen...and I, for one, believe in "moon madness"!! LOLOL

I now return you to your regularly scheduled lives!!

Tags: This And That

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At sundown this Friday Jews worldwide will begin the 8-day celebration of Passover The first night [and second night if you're Orthodox] will be ushered in with the traditional seder...a festive meal with special foods and special readings from the Jewish text called the "Haggada". Then, for the next 8 days we celebrate the deliverance of the Jews out of the bondage of Egypt...and all of the times when the Lord G-d has seen fit to rescue his "chosen" people.

On Thursday [Maundy Thursday] Christians will mark the date of the "last supper" of the rabbi, Yeshua ben Yosef, or as he is more widely know, Jesus of Nazareth. On that last night before his crucifixion, this observant Jew gathered his closest followers together and celebrated as Jews had for generations: with a Passover seder.

On Friday [Good Friday] Christians will gather to acknowledge the sacrifice made by the man they consider to be their messiah. Prayers will be offered up that the world may prove itself worthy of such a sacrifice. And then, on Sunday...Easter Sunday...voices will be raised in celebration of what is considered by Christians to be the greatest of G-d's miracles: The resurrection of Jesus and the hope that such a miracle would bring to the world.

Passover and Easter always overlap. Unlike Hanukkah and other Jewish holidays, which are based solely on the Jewish calendar, and therefore occur on different days every year according to the Gregorian calendar established by the Catholic Church, Passover and Easter are a shared history.

At this time of year, I am always reminded that even though different roads may beckon us, we are all still on the same journey to find the same G-d. We are all children of Abraham...even Muslims. I've often said that I'd like to be able to sit down with Abraham and ask him what he thinks about the way his offspring have turned out. I can't help but think that he would not be very pleased.

Let us all worship according to our beliefs this week. To my fellow Jews...may your Pesach be blessed, and may we celebrate next year in Jerusalem. To my Christian friends...may you find deep meaning in the sacrifice of the Lamb and may you be washed clean with His blood.

Above all ... may each one of us find peace.

Tags: Religion

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I just finished reading an article about a woman in Henryville, Indiana. Her home took a direct hit in the recent spate of tornadoes. In the midst of all the madness, this woman had shielded the bodies of her children with her own body. In doing so, the children were saved, but the woman sustained injuries requiring the amputation of both of her legs. She is being hailed as a hero. But is she?

I'm sure that if you asked this woman, she would say that she most definitely is not a hero. She is just a Mom who did what she had to do, without thinking, just to protect her children, just like any other mother would [or should].

In combat, a grenade falls in the midst of a group of soldiers. One soldier immediately covers the grenade with his body, absorbing the impact of the blast and thereby saving the lives of his comrades. A hero? The young navy SEAL who put the bullet into Osama Bin Laden. A hero? The Naval aviator who wends his way through a sky full of anti-aircraft fire to bomb a key munitions factory from 10,000 feet. A hero? The freezing Marine who dutifully mans his watch on a wall near the DMZ in Korea, day after day, month in and month out. A hero?

It was my great honor to be able to sit and visit at length with Medal of Honor winner Roy Benavides. He "won" his Medal in Viet Nam. He said he absolutely hated the moniker of "hero" that everybody insisted on calling him. He steadfastly maintained that he was no hero. He was just soldier doing his job and who got lucky. He said the real heroes were the men he left behind on that desolate battlefield.

A firefighter runs into a burning building to rescue a child. We call him a hero. But is he? Or is he someone who is just doing his job? A firefighter is expected to do such things, and he knows that he might be called upon to do such things when he signs up for the job. What about if a total stranger off the street runs into that same burning building to rescue that same child. Is he a hero?

I don't mean to raise anyone's hackles. I am not for one minute denigrating the "heroic acts" of anyone. There is abundant bravery in the world, sometimes in the smallest of gestures. But the story I read just got me thinking about what it is that would really constitute a true "hero". I welcome all of your thoughts and comments on the matter.

I now return you to your regularly scheduled life ...

Tags: Reflections In The Key Of Life

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When my grandmother was 88 years old, she came to live with us. It was the way things were done back then. My grandmother had 12 children in all, and by the time she'd reached the point where she couldn't live alone, 9 of them were still alive. I don't know how my mother managed to pull the "short straw", but oh well. Didn't much matter ... we absolutely loved the fact that she was going to be there with us all the time.

For many years, it was a wonderful arrangement. Maw-Maw lived out in the guest house, giving her some sense of independence. She would take most of her meals with us, but she didn't have to if she didn't feel like it. There was a kitchen over there and she could do for herself. But then things started to sort of "slide".

The stove top would get left on and she'd burn herself. Or the time when she didn't realize that the element didn't have to be glowing red for it to be hot enough to catch the dish towel she laid on it on fire. And then when she maybe didn't make it to the bathroom quite on time, but didn't realize it one way or the other. And she took to "wandering", going out into the fields at the ranch and then forgetting how to come back. Once she wandered back just covered with fire ant bites. Said that "the hornets" got to her. Little things.

As her mental health deteriorated, so did her physical health. She was found to have colon cancer at age 92. They operated on her and while she was in the hospital, she attempted an "escape", fell out of bed and broke her hip. Mother, still determined to take care of her on her own, brought her home and did the best she could. However, to make a long story short, after a time [combined with my step-father's terminal illness] Mother just couldn't do it all any more, and the decision to put her into extended care was made.

My grandmother entered a very, very nice facility at age 94. She was well-cared for and her mental state at this point was such that she woke up to a brand-new world every day anyway, so I never got the sense that she herself was particularly unhappy. Mother, however, was completely guilt-racked. She took to spending all day every day up at the nursing home, sitting by my grandmother's side, catering to her every need. She lifted, she carried, she toted. She brought meals from home because "nobody can feed maw-maw as good as I can"... The nurses absolutely loved my Mother. I mean, can you blame them? So many people just dump their relatives and then other than paying the bills every month, they're "done".

I used to chide my mother that the whole idea about sending maw-maw to "the home" was so that she could get some rest and relief from the burden of taking care of not only maw-maw but also my step-father, who at this point was in the last stages of his final illness. I used to tell Mother that for all the good it was doing her, she might as well bring maw-maw home and save the $2000 per month she was paying to keep her up there!!

My mother finally got her "relief" [?] My step-father died in September of 1988, and my grandmother followed after in March of 1989 ... but to this day, I believe that my Mother irrevocably damaged herself through all those years of caring on top of caring on top of caring. I know that she robbed herself of at least 10 years of her own life. I was my mother's sole caregiver at the end of her life, and I saw the damage she had done to herself over the years. I guess it's a blessing that she "went" before my sister and I had to make the heart-wrenching decision ...

My daughter and I have talked at length about this. She says that I should never worry ... that I will never end up in a home ... that she will personally see to it that I am taken care of until my time comes. I've told her she shouldn't make any rash promises.

Usually by the time our parents, grandparents, older folks, whatever become "a burden", thankfully they're in such a mental state they don't realize they're "a burden" ... and I really hate that characterization anyway. Yes, it was hard for me to take care of Mother those last two years, harder than anything I've ever done ... but "a burden"? Perhaps. But also "a blessing".

Anyway ... The main reason for this blog is to open a dialogue if you want to, and to also give a little advice to any of you who might be facing this "heart-wrenching decision". No. There is no nursing home in the entire universe that could take as loving-good care of your relative as you could in terms of love, and comfort, and contentment. But they can help in ways that you simply cannot [and should not] be doing yourself. They can feed them. They can change them. They can lift them. They can medicate them. If you do decide on extended care, please realize [and don't feel guilty] that the care is just as much for you as it is for them...and there's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself!!

I now return you to your regularly scheduled life.

Tags: Assisted Living

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The airwaves are full of it. The lead "entertainment" story. Whitney Houston dead at age 48. Sad, tragic Whitney. Former church singer. Fallen superstar. Misunderstood diva. Tortured soul. Maybe all those descriptions fit, but I'm finding it hard to muster up much sympathy, except, of course, for the family she leaves behind to mourn her passing. And now, as one might've predicted, everyone's coming out of the woodwork to point the fingers of blame here, there and everywhere. Well, while I'm not party to the investigation into her death, I have made the following conclusions all on my own.

Bobby Brown [her bad-boy ex-husband] did not kill Whitney Houston. Hollywood did not kill Whitney Houston. The music business did not kill Whitney Houston. Drugs did not kill Whitney Houston. G-d did not kill Whitney Houston. Whitney Houston killed Whitney Houston.

Oh to be sure, there were plenty of people around her who pampered her and enabled her to live the lifestyle she chose, but no one sat on her chest and forced that crap down her throat. If we are ever to rid ourselves of the plague of a drug-addled lifestyle we have to start laying the blame right where it belongs: at the feet of people just like Whitney Houston, and Michael Jackson, and Elvis Presley, and dozens upon dozens of other so-called "celebrities" who've gone down the same stupid path.

These people were junkies, pure and simple. No better or worse than any street junkie out there on the row hustling for a few bucks to get their next fix. The only difference is that THEY were rich. When some poor crack-addled street whore dies in an alley, do you think her mother mourns her loss any less than does Cissy Houston mourn the loss of her daughter? When some junkie dies in some skid-row bathroom with a needle in his arm do you think his daughter is any less affected that Bobbi Kristina Brown or Lisa Marie Presley?

I don't know what the utlimate solution would be, but I do know that as long as we glorify these people in both life and death, there will never be any reality to the situation. I know this probably doesn't matter to a lot of you either way, but it was just on my mind ...

I now return you to your regularly scheduled life.

Tags: Taking Responsibility

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I LEARNED TODAY THE SAD NEWS THAT ONE OF THE MOST REMARKABLE MEN I'VE EVER KNOWN HAS TAKEN THE FIRST STEPS ON HIS NEXT JOURNEY. BOB PERDUE DIED ON FEBRUARY 3, 2012. FOR THOSE INTERESTED, AN OBITUARY NOTICE WAS PRINTED IN TODAY'S AUGUSTA [GA.] CHRONICLE NEWSPAPER, AND THERE IS A GUEST BOOK YOU CAN SIGN IF YOU WANT TO LEAVE A MESSAGE FOR BOB AND/OR HIS FAMILY.

BOB TOUCHED SO MANY OF US IN SO MANY PERSONAL AND PRIVATE WAYS AND WE WILL ALL BEAR OUR GRIEF IN OUR OWN FASHION. HOWEVER, HE WOULDN'T HAVE WANTED ANY OF US TO WALLOW IN IT OR MAKE A BIG FUSS.

SO AS FOR ME, TONIGHT I'LL LOOK TOWARD GEORGIA AND RAISE MYSELF A GLASS OR TWO OF WILD TURKEY AND TOAST A REMARKABLE HUMAN BEING WHOM I WAS PRIVILEDGED TO KNOW.

REST IN PEACE, CUZZIN' ... MAYBE I'LL SEE YOU LATER.

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