Pasture Parties

I live on the edge of a pasture that is pretty much surrounded by woods. In days gone by, there were actually cows and horses grazing within sight.  Not anymore.  In fact -- most of the fence has fallen down, and I am content to enjoy the wildlife. It is especially nice that deer, turkey, bear, fox, coyotes and the occasional bobcat don't require chores. Yep -- the book on domesticated animals has closed. Instead -- I  watch the groundhogs and turkey vultures and -- I now have pasture parties.  Just so there is no confusion -- these are not parties in my pasture except on rare occasions when we gather around a campfire and chat. Mostly they are get-togethers of some of the people who live on the edge of my pasture.  Usually we gather in the summer, but we have been known to have pasture parties in the dead of winter when cabin fever drops in for a visit and overstays its welcome. The guest list has changed in the past few years - people have moved on in one way or another. New people have arrived. The gatherings are nice.  I love my neighbors.  I wonder if city folk would call them block parties?  It's the same concept really - only on a smaller scale.  People bring food and we sit around telling funny stories and catching up on neighborhood news. We have been known to tell the same story more than once if it is a good one. Some stories are repeated every time we gather. Nobody seems to mind. Now and then even people who have moved away are able to come back for one of the gatherings. Once a pasture neighbor, always a pasture neighbor.  We know who each other are.  It's comforting ... like the retelling of a shared experience.

You and I know that the world today is very fast paced... and that's not just because some of us are moving more slowly. There are even people who have lived in the same place for many years and have never met their neighbors. Now  -- maybe that could be a good thing in some situations, but it is also a sad indication of things being so complicated in our lives that we find it difficult or awkward to even stop and say a brief "hello".  I am all for anything that can slow us down if only for a little bit.  That is one reason why pasture parties are fun. Getting together with people of a variety of interests and ages is just plain refreshing and so worth the pause in busy lives.  I  must also mention that the food is always wonderful as well. My recommendation: stop, take a breath and, party on....  An informal gathering doesn't require a pasture or an excuse to get together -- just a few good neighbors.

"Sick Day" at Nana's house....

Let me just say that any of you who have had that special joy of having an eight-year-old boy in your life are going to understand exactly where I am coming from today. Recently my grandson was not feeling well enough to go to school.  Seriously. He didn't have a fever, but you could see in his eyes and when you listened to his cough, that it was not his best day.  Even when not quite up to par though, he has a certain undaunted energy level. He's eight. Enough said.

When he first came over to my house, we got organized -- put the Kleenex within reach, opened a small can of ginger ale for sipping and almost settled down to watch a movie when... he noticed a bug on the ceiling in the kitchen.  It was bothering him.  He thought he had seen it before in that exact same spot and knowing him, he probably had.  He wondered out loud if it were alive.  He simply could not settle down to a quiet time unless he knew.  So -- he took off his socks so that he wouldn't slip, and climbed up onto the counter-top to get a closer look. He is in that leggy/not quite grown into his feet stage - exceedingly and enviably nimble. (What was the name of that cute little guy in Jungle Book? Mowgli? Can you picture it?)  Anyway -- he planned most carefully.  He even had a paper towel in his hand to catch the bug when he dislodged it with the edge of a fly-swatter he had found somewhere in the laundry room. (I actually didn't even remember that I had a fly-swatter.) Anyway -- even after close examination with a magnifying glass, we were not sure if it were alive or not, but it floated gently off the paper towel and onto the leaves of a Day Lily plant when we took it outside to set it free. He thought it was alive. I pretended that it may have been.  That is sometimes what Nanas do. Right?  Maybe it was alive. 

By then his mind was working.  He didn't want to settle on the couch -- not even for a minute.  "You know what, Nana?  We should think of ideas for your blog. You write down the ideas that we think of and I will keep score."  And so it went...  For the next hour we came up with ideas.  He thought of the most. We considered several, including:

• War against dandelions and other weeds
• The idiosyncrasies of his family dog and cats (He gave several examples with great potential.)
• The highlights of his Uncle, Aunt and cousin's upcoming visit including playing Magic cards and having Nerf battles in the basement
• Recurring dreams  -- His are much more interesting than mine. He dreams of dragons in my basement and digging holes to China.  My recurring dream merely involves falling down some basement steps, and I haven't actually had that dream since grade school. How long ago was that?
• "Technobaby". That is what he sometimes calls his little sister who can figure out anything technological and has been able to since age two. She is four now. 
• The list could go on... and actually does for several pages of a notepad. I think I may have mentioned that we did this for an hour...or so.

I am sure you can tell which ideas belong to me and which ones to him. His are the really fun ones.  It was a great way to spend some time together.  We also enlisted the help of a friend who happened to stop in.  Her ideas could fuel several blogs.  It seems that her home has become well known as a good place to drop off stray cats if they don't find their own way to her home from the neighbors all by themselves.  There are currently three outside cats - Thomas and Torty 1 and Torty 2... and five indoor cats.  The house cats include the sibling kitties, Missy and Charlie, as well as Moggy, Fluffy, Beauty and Bobby Sox. Wait a minute -- that is six of the indoor variety - nine total. Either way -- each cat has an interesting story, and we all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. We laughed a lot at the side stories of each, and I am entertaining the notion of writing a blog on what people choose to name their pets.  I have heard some great names in my day. My Mom told me once that they visited friends in Michigan whose Great Danes were named "Get off the Rug" and "You too".  Could that be true?

And so the day went...  It was lovely...  Laughter is great medicine for sure; some say it is the best medicine and have research to support that theory. I know it made the "sick day" at Nana's a lot of fun.  We all felt better by the end of the time together. Even when he doesn't feel "up to par" that child is a breath of fresh air and he always makes me laugh. It's just one of his talents.     

Unknown Caller...

A couple of weeks ago I had just settled down to an evening of quiet relaxation and mind numbing television when the phone rang, and for some unknown reason -- I actually answered it in spite of Caller ID indicating that it may have been some potential scammer targeting the elders of America -- the Unknown Caller. (Notice I did not use the term elderly in the previous sentence?) Anyway -- since I now know how to use the pause button on my Roku remote, and because I just felt adventurous, I picked the phone off the charger and braved a strong hello. Whoa -- I could actually understand the person calling -- a real person, not just a recording from the IRS calling from their cell phone -- telling me that they were suing me and that I needed to contact them immediately. On the other end of the "line" was a nice woman named Ann, asking me to take a survey. I agreed to do so, basically because she spoke English like a native-born American (possibly from New Jersey or Eastern Pennsylvania), and... I knew I could hang up at any time I wanted.  

It is so lovely to be in total control of your own phone.  (I will never forget the day that I realized, for example, that I didn't have to answer my phone just because it rang. My kids informed me of this -- repeatedly -- until I finally "got it".  Anyway -- this ignoring the ringing phone was a huge step toward a new found freedom - second only to blocking calls from a former college wanting money. Huge.... Since then I marvel at my regained powers... at least phone wise. I sometimes feel that next to Scotch tape, Caller ID and Call Blocking are the best inventions ever. Do want to mention though that I never did become attached to my Answering Machine, Voice Mail or the rudest technology of all time  -- the Caller Waiting option. I always hang up when put on hold...always...except if I am calling the pizza shop.  Some things are worth the wait...but it is still rude.) 

Back to the survey call itself -- for the next few minutes I answered harmless questions of a non-personal variety and then discovered, once again, that I am woefully ignorant about many political issues. That is what happens when you ban all newspapers and TV news shows from your home to keep the bad news out - even if it is only for a few months at a time. I used to think that this ignorance was a bad thing -- a personal weakness. Now?  I don't really care. I ease any residual discomfort and appease any trace of guilt by turning on CNN once in a while...and ... usually I regret this decision. It is uncomfortable, however, to be reminded, as in this survey, that I basically have lost all faith in politicians, and in governmental proceedings...or almost all.  

Anyway -- bet you have taken a survey like this one before yourself in a moment of weakness.  The process got me to thinking about how I could have dealt with this intrusion into my private time.  When Ann asked me if I had a few moments to answer a short list of questions I could have said, "Sure" and then said: " But first, Ann, -- I am curious about a couple of things..." 

• How are you? Are you having a good day? Do you find that most people are nice to you on the phone? Or...?   
• Do you get paid well for doing these surveys?  Do you earn under or over minimum wage? What is minimum wage in your state?  What state is that? In general, how do you feel about your pay on a scale from 1 - 5 with 5 indicating that you are totally satisfied?
• Do you get paid by the number of people you call or by the number of completed surveys? Do they deduct pay when people hang up on you? Are your feelings hurt when people do so?
• What company or political party are you really working for?  Are you sitting in a back room of the White House right now?
• Are you, by any chance, as apathetic as I find myself to be?  Do you care? On a scale from 1 - 5....
• What is your highest level of education? How old are you? Really? You sound younger.
• Do you have other jobs, or is this full time?
• Do you own your own home? 
• Do you live in the city or in the boonies?
• What would you be doing if you were not doing this survey?
• Do you have any idea of what time zone you are calling?  Do you care?
• Are you planning on buying a new car within the next 5 years? If so what make/model do you think it will be? Will you buy it new or used?
• How did you get my phone number? Did you have to pay for it?  
• Have I brightened your day?

The list could go on and on.  I didn't pose any of these questions, but I did manage to make Ann laugh out loud more than once, so it was totally worth my time. Our time together was actually sort of fun. She told me that she had enjoyed speaking with me.  Then, in contrast -- at 9 PM on Memorial Day I received another one of those calls that Caller ID has trouble identifying.  This one was from Windows - yet again - worrying about my computer that must have been communicating its discomfort to them in some miraculous way. Are you laughing yet?  I simply do not know a person who has not received a multitude of these calls from this Windows of an unspecified company.   I hung up.  Wouldn't you think that the person in charge of this particular scam would caution his/her callers to take a day off on the United States' Memorial Day? Seriously.... Perhaps I should have explained this to the person on the other end of my phone, but  -- honestly -- I am not certain she would have understood me. It would have been unkind to turn the tables on her. I know I had trouble understanding one single word she was reading from her script -- other than the Windows part. She was no Ann.  I can't help wonder what country she was calling from and how/if she gets paid? These calls are exhausting. Would you agree? 

The thing is -- what if the next time my Caller ID is clueless there is another nice Ann at the other end of the call?  I could practice my questions and see what happens. I would hate to miss that.  I am thinking that I may answer the phone just in case. I can always hang up. 

Marking time...

I recently spent time with someone who is important to me as a friend. We laugh and share funny stories when we are together, and we also cover the important "stuff" as well.  You know -- the things that go below the surface. There are children and family concerns, challenges of growing older, the disappointments of not being able to "fix" things that come up in any of those areas. I am thinking that this experience and these feelings are things that many of us share.  

Anyway -- I sense that this friend is sort of marching in place -- marking time. I think this happens when you are still moving but feel like you are not going anywhere. It is simply when a person needs time to regroup, to sort out, and... perhaps to heal before reentering the fray of daily life at full strength - if that is even possible. Again I am thinking that this marching in place experience is something to which you may be able to relate. I know that I have been there once or twice myself.

I think that it is important to recognize this need to mark time in ourselves as well as in others. It is the classic case of being mindful. Sometimes you can see it in eyes - your own eyes as well as in others.  If you can see something in someone's eyes that makes you want to be especially kind,  to hug them or to reach out and touch their hand -- that may be it... they are marking time. Whatever they have been going through didn't kill them, but they need some time to regather strength, to heal and to be able to move forward. It is a time during which people need to be particularly kind to themselves...methinks.

Thinking about this whole idea makes me remember my Mom saying - more than once - something like, "You need be kind to others because you never know what they are going through, and because you know little or nothing of their past struggles. Sometimes pain lingers a bit."  My Mom was one smart lady to be sure. She was also kind. As I think back on it, I can see that she also had her own marking time periods.  She came through stronger.... Interesting.... Even in memories, she is still teaching me.  Nice....

It Takes a Village...

Attention Boomers as young as 60 who reside within the Corry Area School District...

• Want to stay in your own home for as long as you can?
• Need some help with a project now and then?
• Have trouble rearranging furniture, finding last minute transportation to an appointment, or with flipping your mattress?
• Is your computer stressing you out?
• Does your smartphone make you feel stupid?  
• Looking to hire a contractor, a lawn care service, an electrician, or a service provider of any sort who has been vetted and may offer you a discount?   

Becoming a member of Village Friends may be the perfect answer for you -- or for someone you know.

Check out the Village Friends, Inc. Facebook page or visit their website at www.villagefriendsinc.org for more details.  If you think that you want to consider becoming a member or a volunteer, you can call the Program Director, Jackie Haines at (814) 964-2767 or download an application from the website and mail it to 45 East Washington Street, Corry, PA 16407.

I recently joined as a member but also hope to do a bit of volunteering as well once I figure out where I might be able to help. I am thinking that we are most fortunate to have a Village Friends here that is a part of an important nationwide movement to help older citizens live independently and to participate in social, cultural and educational activities.  A lot is going on  -- many opportunities to just plain have fun.  There are, for example several  "Day Tripping" outings planned to visit and explore a variety of interesting places nearby and also the chance to participate in the "Coffee Club" that meets once a month to plan events and outings. 

A village can do more than raise a child - although that is certainly important. A village of friends can make everyone's life better - no matter what age they may happen to be.  You may want to think about volunteering, joining or perhaps -- donating to this organization.

Well alrighty then....

Recently my sister mentioned seeing the word "pertinerly" in a novel she was reading and went on to say that it reminded her of our grandmother, Bessie.  I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about until I figured out when I ran across that word while reading the same novel, that it means pretty nearly.  Then I remembered - but more as "pret near", although I am sure Bessie said "pertinerly" if my sister says so. My sister has a mind like a steel trap.  I will never play Trivial Pursuit with her if you know what I mean.  There are advantages though -- I have depended upon her to be my memory on more than one occasion. It's nice really. I don't tell her that though.  I just let her think that she remembers better because she is older than I am. 

Anyway -- when I thought more about it, I remembered listening to our Dad talk with his two brothers and older relatives at family gatherings and then teasing him (in my head only) about "family speak" as a language. I can't help but wonder if my first cousins noticed the same thing with their Dads.  I will ask them for sure -- if I remember. I also need to remember to ask my kids, niece, and nephews if my sister and I do the same thing. Language adapts to us somehow... or maybe we make it fit the occasion.  I mean, after all, -- we don't talk to our friends the way we talk to our grandchildren.  Seriously not....

Do all families have such shared expressions and ways of communicating?  I remember our son saying, "No, I amn't" for "No, I am not".  Actually the entire family said "amn't" until it was almost time for him to start school and we decided that we needed to stop.  I fondly think of it as our adopted contraction and find myself using it once in a while even now.  It's fun.

Maybe this whole thing has something to do with the way language tends to evolve.  New expressions and words are added all the time. Meanings change. Rules of grammar go by the wayside. Then again - maybe it is just the way we are.  Maybe we need to develop our own special phrases and words to communicate with our own special people. Maybe it is similar to nicknames. It's a connection of a sort.  Well alrighty then...

Thoughts of One 65....

Thoughts of One 16 was the title of a book that I wrote many years ago...many years ago. Actually it was more of a journal really.  It helped me survive my adolescent angst and to sort out all things complicated and that hurt.  I wrote snarky rhymes about teachers I found to be unfair or annoying.  I wrote about my parents not understanding who I really was. There were pages on young love, crushes, hurt feelings and even more pages on dreams and hopes. I even planned a home I wanted to live in when I grew up. Not surprisingly, I no longer wish to live in the loft of a barn in a damp, lush forest. Anyway -- I recently found this journal in a box in my basement. I had drawn a picture of myself on the cover.  My tongue was sticking out and my eyes were crossed. The word brat comes to mind.  It is in some ways embarrassing to read, but in other ways it is interesting now, looking back, to see how I was trying to find my way to the person I am today.

Remember the 1960's when it was all about the "identity crisis"?  How is that term for a blast from the past?  Argh -- the painful process of "finding oneself".  How unfortunate for many of us that this search occurred at the same time as bad cramps -- as if one were not enough without the other. Yet -- most of us somehow muddled our way through it all.  Must mention -- I have often thought that I would not wish that process on anyone, and I would not want to return to ages 13-19 for any reason. Writing helped me through it though -- no doubt.

Writing continued to be an out for me as time went on.  I wrote my way through college, marriage, children, both the good times and the not so good. Writing helped ease my way through many life challenges, including the death of a marriage, and of friends and family.  A lot of what I wrote over time, I destroyed. The words were never meant to be shared; they were just a pressure release -- at times a major venting.  In fact, I have even advised people to write and then to destroy.  Sometimes it is the process that counts... not the communication to others. Writing is, at times, more of a "me" thing. It helps one to sort through it all.

Now at this stage of the game, writing is particularly fun. Perhaps -- fun is not the best choice of words, but it will have to do.  At age sixty-five, I seem to be coming into my own as far as the writing thing is concerned. I have the time to write and have found a most pleasant audience for those words I choose to share. Thank you. 

As I continue to think about it, I most always have found something to enjoy about my age -- whatever that age was at the moment and regardless of whether I was writing or not at that time.  Even now in my "Twilight years" (another interesting expression to be sure), I find a lot to like about where I am.  I love being comfortable with who I am, with whom I am becoming. I know where I belong...what I do and do not want to do and... writing helped me find my way here. To me, actually, there is a certain relief in getting older.  For one thing, I can wear comfy clothes all the time -- every single minute of every day. I particularly enjoy that option. For another thing, I am relatively comfortable in saying what I want to say.  Maturing has taught me to mind my tongue, but even in that "I am totally the boss of me."   There is an almost intoxicating freedom in just knowing that you could say something if you really wanted to. 

I listened to a great teacher once who talked about stepping outside of oneself and watching the progression and challenges of growing older. His words were a lesson in objectivity that I understood for some reason.  I particularly like his use of the word "growing" in the sentence when he is talking about the aging process. In life, one should never stop growing.... Things are happening as they are supposed to happen.  Life, too, is a process...lots of fascinating things about which to think and to write whether you are sixteen or let's say... sixty-five.