Staying Busy

 A few weeks ago, I thought I would try a mixture of veg. oil and vinegar as paint stripper on my desk chair that is not a pretty sight to behold. It was a tedious job . . . molasses on a fall day would move faster then this so called 'paint stripper'.  I put a lot of elbow power into getting the first layer of paint off the top of the chair before I decided to throw in the rag and call it a day.

While Janel and I were sorting through cards of Grandma's, Natasha helped mom wash the doll clothes that Grandma had kept. 

I love to see clothes hanging on the line!  It looks so homey.

During one of my visit's with my cousin's, Jennifer, Rebekah and I got to volunteer at a historical farm house.  We did not get to do as much as I thought we would, but I really enjoyed re-living a different time period (1820's).  We got to ride on top of a canal boat as a pair of mules pulled us along.  An Indian who sat below us, played his Indian pipe.  I did not get any pictures during the ride, but it was so calm and peaceful!  Definitely an experience I won't be forgetting anytime soon!

L-R: cousin Jennifer, friend Bekah, and cousin Rebekah

When I wasn't stripping paint, or playing dress up, or reading cards from eons ago, I helped mom can two bushels of peaches.

There were some BIG babies in there!

The jars that did not seal went into a pie. 

Pie crust made with spelt flour.

And that's a wrap of how I stayed busy during my summer!

Remembering Benjamin

Our families met at church years ago.  There were seven of their children at that time and two of us.  I was around four or five when we met, but most of my memories don't start until around eight or nine years of age.  By that time there were probably nine children on their side, but the oldest two were at college.

I'd almost forgotten the time he locked Janel, Abigail (his sister) and me in our old semi trailer.  He coaxed us in, then he got out, closed and locked the door and walked away leaving us banging on the door.  I don't remember how long we were in there before someone came to our rescue and became our new hero of the day.

There was the time when we children were outside walking along the electric fence when he told Janel that if she touched the fence, she would not get shocked because she was wearing rubber boots.  ". . . but if you touch it and put your other hand on the ground you'll get shocked."  I don't remember if she did it or not.   

I look outside and see the Bale King hay wagons that we played in.  We had a real door, old shower curtains for walls and even had a swing in our 'house'.  After we were done 'building' our house, we decided to play Jews and Nazis.  Benjamin was the Nazis that came to our house (uninvited and unannounced) dressed in his whole camouflage uniform, complete with a big flashlight.  "I am here to search your house.  I have reason to believe you are hiding Jews." He said with a German accent so good it changed the whole atmosphere.  That six foot something enemy questioned us up one wall and down the next as to how many people lived in that house, the ages of the dwellers, where everyone was, etc. all while shining that flashlight all around our humble abode.  The amateur actors had never been interrogated like this before and were not sure how to respond to this intruder.  We may have been shaking in our boots a little due to the challenging reality of keeping the Jews hidden, yet I think we all were enjoying the thrill of playing at a whole new level!  Not all of our little actresses were home to be questioned, so our visitor made himself at home in our hammock, pulled out his mouth harp and played a tune or two while he waited for the little 'Anne Franks" to arrive.

L-R Top: Abigail, Benjamin, Amanda (another friend) Bottom: Me, Janel

When Lance Corporal Drake returned from boot camp, we jogged in a field after dark, with our commander calling out Marine choruses while leading the way.  We're trying to keep up to the best of our female ability when he looks back and says "You coming?"  That was the same night we got to shoot his guns into the bank of the manure pit.  (The same manure pit that we went boating in a few years earlier. Benjamin rocked the boat a little as he threw old eggs into the air and tried to hit them with an oar.)
It was around that time when he and Abigail came over one night and we made chicken noodle soup.  With a Hershey's chocolate bar in it.  After supper we played Pit around the table.

I can't leave out the time all of us children went to the woods and built a little fort, complete with a blue tarp for a roof.  Benjamin had taken the chain saw and skid loader out to cut some wood for dad.  At one point when he was on the skid loader he was backing up when he realized the back of the loader was being elevated above the front of the loader.  With there being no hills around this part of the state, his curiosity got the better of him. He turned around to see that he was driving up a tree as he backed up.
Mom was going to have beef stew over a fire that night.  Benjamin asked if we could have the fire in the woods and cook supper over out there.  (Don't worry. It had recently rained so everything was quite wet.  Your blood pressure can return to normal now.)  Benjamin told us to "Go over there, I'll tell you when you can come."  We obeyed our elder and kept ourselves busy in a different area of the woods.  After a few minutes something caught Abigail's attention as well as mine.  We looked over to where Benjamin was, just in time to see a large poof of healthy fire eating up the oxygen in front of the newly made fort.  We rushed over only to have Benjamin meet us half way there as the fire died down to a nice little picturesque campfire size.  "What are you doing?!" We asked.  "Don't worry." He assured us, "Everything's under control."  "What made that 'poof' sound? How did you get it started with everything being wet?" We questioned further. "I added a little gasoline and it started. Everything's fine." The soup was good and everything was fine.

But as of last week, all I have left are memories of Benjamin.  It was a complete shock to me because I didn't know how much pain he was in.  Our families have not been as close over the past few years due to children growing up, going to college or getting married.  I didn't really know the military Benjamin, but they say war changes people and I don't question that at all.  My world has been shaken because a childhood brother-like friend is gone and all I have left are these fond and fun memories.  I will forever remember those times as I try to move on in life and trust that the Lord will somehow use this for His glory.

Hershey soup

 So long Benjamin.  You will be greatly missed.

Looking Back, Moving Forward

Looking Back:
As we continue to sort through Grandma's house, we came across some lots of cards and letters dating from 2010 to the 1940's, when Grandma and Grandpa were still in high school!  When I say we found cards, I mean we found every New Years, Valentine, Easter, Birthday, Graduation, and Christmas card - still in the envelope.  Not to mention all the letters from school friends and family.  At first I wasn't looking forward to having to sort through allllll the letters.  They're old, they feel funny, some of them smell . . . I just come away feeling uckie. 
However.  I've really enjoyed learning what my grandparents generation talking about. Grandma's friend June was a faithful writer in every since of the word.  She was interested in comparing school grades, school programs, music teachers, favorite new 'pop' songs and movies (one of which included Gary Cooper), who's going out with who, hair cuts/perms, new clothes, and a funny story or two.  (Like the time a school boy's pet pigeon followed him to school and sat in the open window, then flew over June's desk, scaring her. The teacher shooed it out, but it walked right back in and this time flew over to land on the piano, which had everyone "roaring" by that time.  But the teacher had "had enough" so she put the bird outside and shut the window!) Is that not a newsy letter?!

We also found girdles at Grandma's.

  There were at least thirty of them . . .

Some have seen better days, so I butchered them to save the boning for Civil War corsets.  

Looking Forward:
I signed up to start taking an on-line interior decorating class at Penn Foster Career School!  I'm really looking forward to what I will learn, in hopes that it will help me pursue my dream of fixing up old homes.
I am in the process of filling out some job applications in the town where my cousins live.  I am ready to begin a new chapter in life.  I am ready to sprout my wings and fly.  I'm ready to set up my own housekeeping.

Page from Grandma's housekeeping book.

Grandma's hope chest wishes

Due to Grandma's passing, I have everything one would need to set up housekeeping (including a piano!).  Once I get a job (Lord willing), I will be looking for a little house that I can make a home for myself, and hopefully have a female housemate. 

Janel, catching up on news from 1952

Old Pictures

We have been busy cleaning, and sorting at Grandma's house, since her passing last month.  We are finding all sorts of things!  Some of which are pictures from years gone by.  Some are funny, like this one:

On the back it says: "If you have any mice they will leave. Virgil [my great grandpa] dont want me to send this crazy one But here goes.  We wanted to look sober so Cloris yelled out the door at us, and made us laugh. Don't share it to any one."  :)  We all got a nice little snicker out of that photo, didn't we?  It was so worth sharing.

I like this one.  It's Grandpa with his brothers.   It says "Taken July 14th 1957".  Grandpa is the third from the right.  Or the left.  Whichever way you look at it, he's the handsome one in the middle with a watch on his left wrist.

L - R: Jim, John, Lloyd, Dick, Russel

The outcome of this barn does not look good:

"Pee's barn burning Summer of 1949"

And last, but not least, my Great Grandma:

"Franzel in Bowman orchard The rear view"

Groundhogs as Neighbors

Whoever thought to call an animal a ground-hog?  I mean, really?!  A groundhog hardly even resembles anything close to a hog!  Anyway . . .

My Jack Russel dog turned sixteen years old this year.  The first year we had him, he brought in around twenty small groundhogs within two days.  He would run around in the fields, bring a groundhog in, leave it lie, go out, get another one, bring it in, let it lie, go out - . . . . You get the picture.  Corkie kept us busy disposing of his hourly door prizes. 

Now that Corkie is getting up in years, he is more interested in seeing the insides of his eyelids while lying in the shade and dreaming about his younger years.  His inactive hobby of hunting groundhogs has caused a slight increase of these so called 'hogs' around the farm. 

Groundhog hole

Our intruding visitors have wasted no time in setting up house keeping on the banks of the lagoon (or manure pit.  Whichever term you prefer to use is fine, everyone at the Liberty Livestock farm will know what you're talking about). Our neighbors are helping themselves to the beans: 

See the area that has no beans?  (It must be gleaning season in their option.)   But who could blame them for wanting to save on gasoline money by shopping for food close to home?

As comfortable as our new residents have become, they are trespassing on private property.  In hopes of getting this message across to our ground-dwellers, mom made a special beverage for the new family on the block: Pepsi and Golden Malron.  To our dismay, they weren't thirsty.  So mom and dad set up walls.  These walls have peep holes so dad can spy on them . . . While he's holding a wood stick . . . That shoots out little balls of 'firecrackers', and has the potential to put things to sleep rather quickly.

View from spy hole

Because dad is over six feet tall and we don't want our trespassers to see him over the wall, mom provided dad with a chair.

Every now and then mom and I would hear a "Ka Boom"! and see dad walk away from his breastworks with the gun propped over his shoulder in a relaxed way.  Mission accomplished for one day. 

Update: Due to the storm (mentioned in previous post), the walls got blown over.  But then again, we would have been taking the them down soon anyway. . . Either dad got all of them or they got wise, packed their bags and left.

There Was a Storm

It popped up so quickly.  I clocked out of work at 3:30 and tired not to speed on my way home, in an attempt to beat the darkening storm clouds that were chasing me.  I talked to myself after glancing in the rire view and side mirrors. "We will be OK.  God will not give me more then I can handle.  Whatever happens will be for His glory, and He will help me to get through this.  We'll going to be OK."

Twenty minutes later I was pulling into our drive way.  The wind was hurling around the barn yard and dust was blowing everywhere.  The yellow milk wagon was  rolling across the drive way by itself, which I thought was rather funny. 

It ended upside down.

I drove into the barn, due to the garage door not opening because the power was already out.  I ran through a cloud of dust, dirt, chicken feathers, straw and hay to close the barn door and found mom struggling with it already.   "Go close the windows!" Mom said.  

As I entered the house, an older lady got out of her Equinox and called out "Can I stay in your basement?"  I welcomed her in and we both started closing windows before heading to the cellar.  Mom soon joined us and the two senior ladies started chatting. 

We sat in the cellar waiting for the wind to finish it's temper tantrum for over 15 minutes.  At last we emerged to find leaves and twigs all over the yard and one tree branch down, which had just missed the house.

Apples all over the yard.

One of the old silage wagons got blown to pieces.  (It wasn't in very good shape to begin with.)

The silage wagon parts caused the auger to over turn.

We were without power for about fifteen hours, most of which were during the evening. 

The clean up began the next day.

That storm was in early July and as I finish this post, we await the coming of another Derecho storm expected to hit sometime this afternoon. This time mom and I are ready: barn doors, closed and chained.  Vehicles, under cover.  Auger, put away. Gasoline for generator, in the barn.  Mom, cutting watermelon so we'll have something to eat (looks like she's eating every other piece she cuts).  Dad, on his way home from work in hopes of cutting a tree limb down that's hovering over the electric line.  Me, on stand by to get clothes off the line and close windows. 

Death is a part of Life

Mom and I got a call last Monday saying that my paternal grandma had fallen in her bathroom and was on the way to the hospital.  Mom called Dad, who was at work.  He met the EMT at the hospital, just as they were taking Grandma in.  Grandma had had a stroke, and it was too late for the local hospital to be of much help.  So, she was life flighted to University hospital where she had a two hour surgery to have the blood clot on her brain removed.  However, the clot was too stuck and the surgery was unsuccessful.  We were told that Grandma could have another stroke in the next 2-5 days, and if there was any swelling on her brain, she would die. 

Wednesday, I was at work.  Lunch was over and while putting dishes away, I heard my name over the speaker phone: "Tiffany: line one."  It was Mom and Dad, saying that Grandma was having some very light therapy done, and during that time she became non-responsive and was put on a ventilator.  We knew Grandma's living will declared that she did not wish at any time to be put on a ventilator.  We had no choice but to do as she wished. 

I left work early so I could head to the hospital with Mom and Dad.  I didn't want to regret not saying good bye to Grandma.  We walked into Grandma's room in ICU and 'visited' with her for a few minutes.  We held her hand, talked to her, asked her to squeeze our fingers, etc.  But there was no response whatsoever.

The Dr. came and after a few minutes of discussion, we all agreed the best thing for Grandma was to take her off the ventilator, in line with her wishes. 

We left the hospital not knowing how long it would be before we received 'The Call'.

 It came Friday evening around 11:25 p.m.  Grandma had died at 11:01 p.m.  I thought I would be ready to hear the news, but I don't think anything can prepare you for the real thing.  I had a hard time falling back to sleep that night.  I worked all weekend; I felt numb to the recent death in our family.  I was treating it like a death at the nursing home:  write it on the board that so-and-so expired, feel sad for the day, yet somewhat glad there is one less mouth to feed.  

The viewing was Tuesday. I thought the realization of Grandma's death would hit me, but it didn't.  It was a long three hours of people giving me hugs, most of whom I didn't know.  The funeral was Wednesday. Again, I thought 'this will be the day I have a break down'. I cried, but not very much.  When everyone had left the church's sanctuary and we had a few minutes to be alone, Natasha looked at Grandma lying in her final resting bed, and said "Gate Gam-ma [Great Grandma]. Sleeping."  My heart melted, right then and there.  Even a day or so later, Natasha would still say "Gam-ma sleeping. At. Church."

Great Grandma and Natasha 2010

The past two weeks have felt like a whole month, yet they have gone by so fast.  I have felt numb the past week and a half.  I feel out of sorts.  I wasn't like this when Grandpa died . . . I think it's because all of Dad's family is now gone (he was an only child).   Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas won't be the same.  Grandma, nor Grandpa will be there.    

Grandpa and Grandma (Lloyd and Wilma) 2006

Mother and son Christmas 2010

Good bye, Grandma.  I look forward to hearing you play the harp when I get to Heaven.

Love Tiffy 

Grandma and me fall 2009

No farewell words were spoken
no time to say goodbye
you were gone before I knew it,
and only God knows why.

~ Author Unknown