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Today my Grandmother Myrtle E. Johnson (Nelson) better know as Mrs. John O. Johnson, would have been 90. Each year since my Grandmother’s death my Mother sends an email with a remembrance of her. I miss my Grandmother…she was what I think a Grandmother should be…kind, caring, willing to come over and clean your apartment I remember one holiday, I think it was Christmas or Thanksgiving…I remember it was cold, and I didn’t feel well. Instead of making me go to church with the rest of the family my Grandmother made me toast and cut it into moon and star shapes. She brought it to me while I was laying on the couch in her living room. She was a cleaning freak and that made her hands rough. She used to come up at bedtime and scratch my back and tell me a story about the mouse that lived in the house. After she died I swear there was a morning where I felt her hands on my back and she was telling me everything was going to be okay.

She had a wicked sense of humor. One summer when my brother and cousin were visiting they were in her kitchen letting farts. The story goes that she came in and told them that if they kept it up she would let one that would blow them both out of the room!!! I wish I would have been there to actually hear her say it!

Thirteen years before she died my Grandfather John, who was her spouse for over 50 years, passed away on October 17th. My Grandfather went into the hospital first and we thought he would be fine, then my Grandmother went into the hospital the next day and we thought we’d loose her…well, my Grandfather died and my Grandmother pulled through. She used to tell me that she would see him in her dreams but was unable to talk to him. She also always told me she wanted to live a little longer to see the great-grandkids get bigger. The last thing she said to me was that she heard that I had an I-talian boyfriend and a huge rock on my finger. She died 3 days before Charley and I had planned to visit her. I like to believe that we get to be with those we love when we die, and I have this feeling that my Grandfather said to her, “Myrtle, I’ve been waiting 13 years for you!” It was September 11th, 2003 when she died.

Miss you Grandma.

Update:  Found Grandma’s original obit

The other day one of the guys at my company posted the story of how he came to the company (he was one of the first employees) and that it was the company and his 6 year anniversary.  This got me thinking.

I am one of those people that remembers dates.

January—8th, the day we moved into our new apartment (07), 31st, moved to NYC (99), Last Day at Beauty (05), Last Day at Chubb (06), Adopted the Dogs (05)

February 17th—Got married (04)

July 3rd—-Mom and Dad’s Anniversary

September 11th—the day that changed the USA and NYC (01), the day my Grandma Myrtle died (03)

October 17th—the day my Grandpa John died (90), 11th–the day Peter Socci died (05)

Holidays, Birthdays, Anniversaries…all mark the passage of time.   Life seems to go faster and faster the older I get.  And, I remember my father once saying that he still felt like a 25 year old in a 50 something body.  I think I understand what he meant by that now that I am nearing 40.

Passage of time leads to the passage of pain and the healing of wounds.  And sweet remembrance of what was dear about the event or the person.  I need that.   Especially during the dark days of winter when battling the grey clouds away is more difficult.  So I remember the people and the events and that bad times and bad moods do pass.

We headed to Connecticut on Friday night to spend the weekend before Christmas with my mother-in-law and the kids.

We heard a thump, that of course I ignored, and when we were going from the Hutch to 287 over to 95, the front passenger tire blew out.  I was able to get to the side of the road with no problem.  Charley jacked up the car and started to remove the blown out tire.  The jack broke as he was about to get the tire off, the car went crashing to the ground and we ended up having to call 911.  The really surprising part was when we first broke down a guy stopped and put out some flares for us.  After we had called 911 a state trouper, who set out more flares, stopped to make sure we were ok, and then the tow truck finally arrived.  He was able to jack the car back up and change the tire to the donut.  We drove on the donut 50 miles per hour all the way to CT. 

Once we got there we had a lovely time.  We had gotten our tires at the Sears so I took the car back there to get a new tire.  To my surprise we had a type of insurance on the tire so received a $53 credit toward the new tire.  Yeah Sears! While I was at the mall I went to a Christmas store and found an artifical tree for 50% off!  Score!

Lily had purchased a “meal in a box” with a spiral ham, mashed potatos, butternut squash, dinner rolls, and two pies.  It was really fantastic food and I ate ham for the next day, as we packed it and brought the leftovers to New York. 

We came home Sunday evening and I set up the tree.  It’s so pretty. 

I think it was after we had eaten dinner I decided to make a batch of cookies.  I cracked the egg into the batter and it was bad….really bad.  I tried to separate the spoiled egg from the rest of the batter, and then threw it all away, but somehow ended up getting myself sick.  It took a few hours until it completely took hold….then my stomach emptied with such violence that I felt like I was in a horror movie.  I ended up getting a fever and staying home from work. 

On the up side, Charley bought me a Panasonic Lumix camera which I have been having fun with.  So, even though there were some blowouts, it was a happy Christmas after all.

In the theatre we had a saying “leave the drama on the stage”…and then there are the people who attract drama….as much as I hate to admit it…I am one of those people.

My usual modus operandi is to stay as calm as possible when the drama breaks out.

Tonight I received a call from my husband that my stepson had been kicked out of the house and was sitting in his mother’s car outside.  Apparently he had found a bag that was full of old coins and also an antique bracelet that was his great-grandmothers…and worth $10,000.  My question is if it’s worth that, what is it doing in a bag with a bunch of old coins?  By the time I got his mother on the phone he was back in the house and hunting for the bracelet.  I told him he better turn that house upside down until he finds it.  Luckily for him, he did. 

I hope it would sink into his head to stop going through other peoples things. 

So, Alex if you are reading this,

STOP FUSSING IN OTHER PEOPLE’S THINGS! 

KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELF OR I’LL MAKE YOU SIT ON THEM TILL YOU ARE 18!

 The second piece of drama has to do with the coop I live in.  It has gone through a huge change over the past two years with the coop winning a suit against the sponser which resulted in the sale of many apartments in the building.  The board elections are this week, and I’m running.  The drama is that there is a guy who has served on the board who decided he wanted to challenge the president of our boards position.  WELL…he went far enough to call me and try to recruit me to vote her out and him in as pres if I was elected to the board.  Again, luckily, all involved have decided to come to a compromise as to not rip the coop in half.  Not to mention that the woman who is currently the president of the board is a dear, dear friend who is just one of my favorite people on the earth.

So, the drama seems to have subsided for the moment.  I’m gonna go eat some chocolate chip cookies I just baked.  Cuz, where there is drama, there is comfort food!

It was our first Thanksgiving in our new apartment.  My parents flew in from Wauwatosa, Wisconsin on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.   Charley’s mother and kids were driven down from Connecticut Thankgiving morning. 

When we moved into the apartment the former owners were nice enough to leave us a table and chairs…the table has two leaves to expand it but only 4 chairs.  I was a bit concerned that we would have enough seating for everyone but then remembered that the cart I use for the microwave has two stools hidden inside of it and there was the piano bench and once wooden folding chair.  I was also thinking that we should move the table into the living room…but it worked out that everyone could fit in the kitchen…thanks again to the renovation that the former owners did that made more open spaces in the apartment. 

I preordered the turkey from Fresh Direct.  It was a 13lb no antibiotics added turkey.  It had been a few years since I handled a raw turkey and I forgot how much handling the neck and giblets freaks me out.  My mother made many turkeys but I don’t remember the “extra parts”.  I discarded the giblets but did use the neck for the gravy stock in a bath of free range chicken stock.  The first time I was planning to make a turkey my co-worker told me about using cheesecloth when making the turkey.  I used this method again this year and the turkey was perfect.  I also used the cheesecloth to strain the gravy.

 The menu also included pepperidge farm stuffing, mashed potatoes (yukon gold), green bean cassorole (yep the kind with the canned fried onions and cream of mushroom soup), dinner rolls, cranberry/pear relish ( a new recipe), and pumkin pie (from the Libby’s Pumpkin Pie recipe…flawless).  Everyone was happy and stuffed.

Charley spent a lot of the day playing the piano.  After dinner my Mom played Monopoly with Norma and my Dad played Chess with Alex.  We also watched the Green Bay Packers.  Lily talked non-stop until she fell asleep in Charley’s big chair.  One of our favorite neighbors stopped by for a bit.

It was a great day.

I became a step-mother when I married my husband. At first I didn’t have much involvement in the kids lives because I worked every weekend. A few summers ago I took a month off of work and spent my weekends with my husband, MIL, and the kids. At that point I realized that I should be spending more time with them and changed careers to make that happen.

This summer we took our first family trip together. The kids went to my hometown for the first time, stayed in the house I grew up in, and in a more relaxed fashion…under the rules I grew up with. My father was very frugal…which in retrospect has rubbed off on me a bit…and even though we had everything we ever needed, excess was not a part of my upbringing. My parents still do not have cable TV.

Now, my step kids are used to excess. Their Grandmother spoils them, they have more “stuff” than I ever had when I grew up, and they have been to Europe a few times.

Being with them for a week was amazing. Both as a test of my parenting/patience and their respect for me. I have to say…MY KIDS ARE AMAZING!!! My step daughter could not have made a better impression on my family. Yesterday my Mom said to me on the phone “Norma is such a neat girl”. Alex went golfing and played ping-pong with my Dad…which I think both enjoyed equally. For me it is so cool to see the kids interacting with my parents. My parents who are so fantastic and have accepted the kids into their lives as if I had given birth to them myself.

My stepson then stayed with us for an additional two weeks in NYC. My husband and I took turns taking him to work with us. He was very helpful at my work and everyone that met him thought he was cute, sweet, and helpful.

The last day he stayed with us, he and my husband stayed home for the day. When I got home the dishes had been done and put away. Alex proudly told me that he had done all the dishes for me. I said thanks. Then, I went to the kitchen an opened the cabinet to get a glass…and realized that Alex had put all the dishes away WET. This struck a cord with me on so many levels. First this is the son of a woman with a restaurant…where he has done dishes…did she never tell him to dry them before putting them away? Second, I knew he was trying to make me happy…to do something I would appreciate. So, at first I think he thought I was mad and then I assured him that I appreciated what he did for me and that in the future he should not be afraid to leave them in the dish drainer until they are dry. When I was talking on the phone with my Mom I told her this story and she and I got a good laugh out of it.

So, last night after getting home from work, Alex called. He has a book project due and he left the assignment paper at our house (he had thought he would be with us another week) so I got on the phone with him and read the different parts of the assignment to him. Then I typed it all in an email and sent it to him. At the end of the conversation he said “I love you”. I said “I love you” back to him…and I meant it.

 

So, I’m not sure where to start.  Charley, Alex, Norma, Thelma, Louise and I packed our bags and drove to Wisconsin.  It took us 17 hours to drive there.  I was so happy to see my family and friends and so sad to return to NY. 

The kids finally got to see where and how I grew up.  Alex was very funny saying that the house I grew up in was like it was out of a movie.  I think that’s a good thing.  The ping pong table got a really good workout and Alex’s flip flops have been lost somewere in the void.  :-)  We all went to the Wisconsin State Fair and ate cream puffs, watched pig races, and then in the evening went to see Drake Bell and Corbin Bleu.  Norma was vibrating with excitement. 

My brother came to visit too…with his wife Kris and four kids: Jackie, Jennifer, Jasmine and Colin.  Jim was very kind to my kids, telling them all about coins and giving each one of them a few.  He also confirmed that Alex’s prize necklace that his mother brought back from Europe was a fake….a good fake, but a fake all the same.  We told him to please not tell her…I hope she doesn’t read my blog!

We also spent time with my childhood friend and her kids.  It was so nice to see her.  To be so comfortable with someone who shares so much history.  And a sisterhood…we were both in AOII in college and exchanged our secret handshake.  That was special to me.

Before going on vacation I had a job interview.  I emailed the HR guy while I was on vacation and he encouraged me to call back when I returned home.  I did, went in for another interview…and landed a new job!  I am very excited about this firm…and the growth potential they offer.   I start September 4th, 2007.

Last weekend Lily fell again.  This time she cut open her forehead.  Her worker, Gary, put a bandaid over it as she refused to go to the clinic.  But, when she was still bleeding I encouraged her in a very kind way that maybe she had no choice BUT to go to the clinic and get a few stitches.  She agreed.  I almost couldn’t believe it.  I didn’t have to argue or fuss, I just said very calmly…I’m sorry Lily…I don’t think you have a choice….unless you want to sit here and keep bleeding.  She kept the nurse and PA in stitches as she was getting her stitches.   She can be very funny when she has an audience.

So, needless to say, it’s been an adventure since getting back from our Wisconsin adventure!

My mother-in-law is a dog person.  When I met her she had two dogs: one was her’s and one was my husband’s dog that lived with her.   Both dogs have been put down within the last 6 months.   One was planned and one was more of a surprise.  Amy had developed a tumor on her foot and the local vet (who is nice enough to come to the house) came over to the house, put her down, and buried her in the back yard.

We begged Lily not to get another dog.  Even the local vet told her not to get another dog.  But, a family friend knew of a dog that really needed a home.  This poor dog has lived tied up for most of her life…and her primary caretaker was going away for a month and it was feared that Champaigne, who we are calling Chami, would have been severely neglected if left with the caretakers daughter.  The family friend stepped in and picked up the dog for Lily. 

She is the absolute sweetest dog ever!  The local vet loves her too…she had been so neglected that he had to pull 8 of her teeth right after Lily adopted her.  Our dogs, Thelma and Louise, were not thrilled to meet her at first.  But, I decided to put Cesar Milan’s “power of the pack” to work and took all three for a walk together.  And, by the end of the walk they were together as a unit and have gotten along much better since.

So, I’m very happy for Lily…who turns 83 years old today.

It was a typical Saturday Morning at Lily’s house.  I got up and took the dogs out to the back yard.  We are lucky that she has a big back yard with a double fence; hurricane and wood.  Thelma, the huntress, who is usually the first one to find any form of life invading HER yard…ran up to the fence and started sniffing.  The week before she had found a dead baby bird inside of a tree….I was hoping it was not the same.

So, I walked over to where she was fixated on the fence and found a poor turtle stuck on a branch up against the fence.

Charley thinks someone must have thrown the turtle over the fence as he says turtles don’t climb.

I was able to get the turtle unstuck and back on the ground.  However there were no places were the turtle could get out under the fence.  So, I decided to wake Charley up to both help me free the turtle and to take some pictures

I grabbed one of Lily’s big stock pots to put the turtle in once I caught him.  I dug a path under the wooden fence and had to grab his shell to get him out.  I never knew how strong a turtles legs were!  He fought but I was able to get him under the fence and in the stock pot. 

We walked across the street and took a few pictures, then deposited him next to the river…and watched him scamper, then swim, away.

Tonight my husband reminded me of a poem that I sent him when we first met.  

I don’t remember where or who this originally came from.  But, I feel it is so appropriate.

 And, I’d also like to present it as a nod to an old friend who is hugely pregnant right now and due on my birthday.

 So, with much love…here it is…..

The Song of A Life

When a woman in a certain African tribe knows she is pregnant, she
goes out into the wilderness with a few friends and together they pray
and meditate until they hear the song of the child.

They recognize that every soul has its own vibration that expresses
its unique flavor and purpose.

When the women attune to the song, they sing it out loud. Then they
return to the tribe and teach it to everyone else.

When the child is born, the community gathers and sings the child’s
song to him or her. Later, when the child enters education, the village
gathers and chants the child’s song.

When the child passes through the initiation to adulthood, the
people again come together and sing. At the time of marriage, the person
hears his or her song.

Finally, when the soul is about to pass from this world, the family
and friends gather at the person’s bed, just as they did at their birth,
and they sing the person to the next life.

In the African tribe, there is one other occasion upon which the
villagers sing to the child.

If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or
aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the
village and the people in the community form a circle around them.
Then they sing their song to them.

The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not
punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you
recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that
would hurt another.

A friend is someone who knows your song and sings it to you when
you have forgotten it.

Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or
dark images you hold about yourself.

They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness
when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your
purpose when you are confused.

You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song
to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when
you are in tune with yourself and when you are not.

When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and
when you feel awful, it doesn’t.

- Author Unknown