Overnight at Nana's House

School is starting the day this blog "goes live", so this past weekend was the last chance that I had to keep a promise I had made to my two local grandkids that they could stay overnight again before the end of summer vacation.  Why I made this promise, I will never understand. Maybe it is because they are so cute, so well-behaved, so wonderful....  Nevertheless, I have to say that I wonder if I am alone in this but... I have mixed emotions about overnights with grandkids.  It isn't them; it's me.  Take last night, for example. My two little grandkids arrived with toys and pillows in hand and huge smiles on their faces. It doesn't get any better than those smiles.  They were through the door and into "their" rooms as quickly as can be -- busily getting their areas arranged. They exude a lovely (and exhausting) energy. It makes me tired even to think about it.  Wish I could borrow some of it.  The dog, lest I neglect to mention her, came with them, of course. We (the dog and I) share the kids -- only they are more hers than mine.  She sleeps on the floor between their rooms when they are here.  Personally, if I were the dog, I think I would have snuck up onto the couch after Nana dozed off, but not the Lovely Luna....  she is the guard dog to end all guard dogs where her little people are concerned. Guess I am not the only one to sleep/not sleep with one eye open and ears alert all night. 

So anyway -- by the time the kids had settled in their 35 stuffed animals, etc. (pardon the exaggeration, there were probably only 30), it was time for the dinner I had also promised -- which involved a short drive to a neighboring town for the Chinese food which we all love.  So after the unpacking  -- we were off to our favorite Chinese restaurant. The children had perfect restaurant manners and we were all smiling as we left for home with our leftovers.  Then came a movie that we had all been waiting to see.  One of their favorite people had given them the DVD of HOME, and we settled in to share the experience.  That too was wonderful.  I found myself smiling most of the way through and clapping enthusiastically with my four-year-old granddaughter at the happy ending. (My eight-year-old grandson just looked at us...)  Anyway -- shortly thereafter, they both went right to bed and I never heard another peep out of them until morning - in the predawn hours. Anyway -- you must/may be wondering by now what my problem is. Well... here's the thing.  Sleep is not one of my personal "talents", and when the little ones are here, I barely sleep at all.  I leave little lights on all over the place in case they get up in the night.  I don't want them to be afraid or anything.... Then all throughout the night I listen with renewed attention to noises and hear all these strange sounds that I simply do not remember ever hearing before. I find myself sitting up in bed or padding around in the semi-dark trying to find the source of the sound.  Good grief!  I am exhausted by morning.  I am exhausted just typing words about the experience. Please understand, as well, that all of this Nana behavior is actually an improvement. When these kids were babies and spending the night, I would sleep on the floor next to the crib so I could hear them breathe.  Am I alone in all of this?  Is there anyone else out there who exhibits this same nutty behavior?  Please tell me that I am not alone.  Ah -- the joys of "grandparenting".  

All of this overnight stuff and my nana behavior being explored a bit, I simply must say that I do so love being a Nana.  It is the best gift ever- even if it does tire me out once in a while.  These kids will be invited to stay again and, of course, the Lovely Luna will be invited as well.  I can sleep later.  They are growing up way too quickly.

The Gathering

My four-year-old granddaughter calls it The Gathering, a title which freaks out some of the older generation of my family, reminding them of something Stephen "Kingish". So -- what is a "gathering" in this case? It is a getting together of three generations of family who have not all been together for ten years, if ever, when you consider marriages and the addition of five children. That sounds so simple, but it was a lot more than the traditional single afternoon of fun reunion. This gathering involved people rearranging their lives to come here for several days, or in the case of my daughter and her family -- helping to plan and prepare off and on for some time in advance. (Thank you all!) Family members started arriving on Wednesday of this past week. People came from Virginia, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Maryland, North Carolina, New York, and Illinois with most staying until Monday and some until Tuesday of this week. By the way --a big thanks to our only hotel in town --  The Cobblestone Inn -- where everyone could stay comfortably and all be under the same roof.  I would have had to stack people up like cord wood in my basement to fit everyone in my house; that's for sure. 

Now that everyone is home safely and my home way too quiet, I am taking this time to thank all the participants for making it here at no small effort on each of their parts. Not only did vacation time need to be arranged, but also, cars rented, care organized for beloved pets, fireworks, coolers and large games purchased and transported, and ... people had to deal with traveling issues -- some got stranded on the PA Turnpike, others traveled for long hours with small children, and some had to endure traffic trouble and/or heavy rains on the way home as well. Yet - everyone said it was worth the effort, and I don't think they were just being polite. It was a gathering to be remembered. Fortunately, the weather cooperated, and we pretty much lived outside during the day - every day.  Also fortunately -- most of my family live in areas that are a lot warmer than it is here, so they found the August weather of Northwest Pennsylvania to be refreshing.  While I found myself seeking shade, they explored the property in my work vehicle (the beloved Margaret), rediscovered croquet, played bocce and corn hole and... the big favorite -- practiced throwing a boomerang around in the pasture for a competition orchestrated by my eight-year-old grandson. The little ones also enjoyed splashing around in a kiddy pool and singing the Tooty Ta song with the experienced nursery school teacher of the bunch (we have photos and video for future reference if needed). Most importantly, we caught up with each others' lives and had the opportunity to get to know new additions to the family.  

All in all, it was an amazing few days...a gift to each one of us.   Who knows when we will be able to "accomplish" such a gathering again.  It was huge. I am still smiling. Oh -- did I mention that all of this happened to coincide with my birthday?  It doesn't get any better than that. I will always remember this past week. There is something profoundly touching about watching adult children taking charge in wonderful ways while remembering when they were little and they were doing things like stuffing gum up their noses, dressing up like policeman ... and putting on plays together at holidays, etc.  I started missing everyone as they pulled out of my driveway to return home. So -- I now have a week full of wonderful memories and ... all the "leftovers".  Plus -- we didn't even need to use the First Aid Kit even one time.  Nice.... 

Presbyterian Bunnies

As a part of my self-developed fitness plan with which you may be familiar if you are a regular reader of my blog, I have begun to walk as often as possible.   The parking lot at the First Presbyterian Church -- just up the hill from my house, is a lovely place to walk.  They have a program called "Walk Our Lot" and invite anyone to walk there during the quiet hours of the day.  Some say that once around the lot is 1/4 of a mile.  I don't really care about mileage, I just enjoy the peaceful nature of walking there as well as the flat surface and the perfectly maintained grounds.  It's lovely.  Then, of course, there are what I call the Presbyterian Bunnies.  They are adorable.  There are two or more of them at any given time, and I am quite certain that it is the same two who come out first to greet me in the early morning hours as I walk the back part of the lot.  If you also walk there, have you seen any of them? They are quite tame actually.  It's not like they are going to eat out of your hand or anything, but they wander about quite closely to where I am walking and don't seem too eager to scamper away. Like all Presbyterians I know and have known, they are friendly and most pleasant.     

We chat once in a while...sort of.  You know what I mean.  I am thinking of naming them.  That is not so odd really.  I name almost everything except house plants.  In the past few years, I have had vehicles named Esmeralda, Walter, Priscilla McBeans, and Fii (rhymes with Wii). Currently, I have a terrifically practical garden vehicle with an automatic dumping cargo bed that is named Margaret -- so dependable and sturdy.  My Jeep Wrangler is named Tobias after an ancestor who, with his bride Anna,  crossed the Atlantic in a schooner - traveling from Rotterdam to New York in 1857. My younger grandson has shortened the name to Toby, and it seems to fit. Toby hasn't crossed any oceans, but I have thought about dismantling it and driving it through my horse pond. Toby is sort of like a large Lego toy -- it all comes apart -- roof detaches in three pieces -- each of the doors lifts off.  What's a Jeep if you can't take it apart? Seriously.   Anyway -- I just can't think of appropriate names for these little furry creatures with the pom-pom tails. Perhaps I don't know them well enough. Let me know if you think of anything. Thumper I and II just doesn't cut it. They deserve unique names that have some meaning particular to them. Thanks.

Evening at the Museum

It only takes a few minutes to discover that the Corry Area Historical Museum on Mead Avenue treasures tradition and the preservation of memories of the fascinating past of the City of Corry as well as the surrounding area. In fact, the items at the museum document much of the way of life of people within a 250 square mile area.  Recently I was able to tour the museum as part of an event sponsored by Village Friends, Inc. As museum volunteer, Ann Clark, said in her introductory remarks of the tour, “People have done a great deal of work before us to preserve the record of our heritage, and we are working hard to continue that tradition.  That hard work and dedication, past and present, is evident to all who were able to attend. Many of us were even able to explore the record of our own families.  Now that is an amazing and emotional experience.  

The museum is a most “welcoming” place to visit.  Housing 15,000 artifacts arranged in creative ways, it also contains a large archive where newspaper clippings dating as far back as 1880 are organized and stored in a climate-controlled environment.   In addition to clippings is information not only on families from all walks of life, businesses, churches, and schools throughout time, but also many photographs that still need to be identified…just in case you are interested in doing a little detective work. 

Important point -- the museum can always use volunteers to catalog and to arrange new bits of history, to provide tours and to answer questions for the people who visit each year – over 3000 last year alone – 800 of whom came to do research on site.  It is a “happening” place to be sure.  Serious work is being done there and….  it is fun to visit.  Where else can you find such a variety – everything from yardsticks of local businesses to industrial machinery -- including a Climax Engine? 

No doubt about it. The Corry Area Historical Museum is a gift to Corry and the surrounding area.  It is open Thursdays 10-2 and Sundays 2-4 or by appointment.  Check out www.corryareahistoricalsociety.org for more details.

Not Good with Change? Join the Club.

Last week I met two of my cousins for lunch at Krasa's Kove in Findley Lake, New York.  In the course of our time together one cousin, who recently returned from several months in Florida, was talking about how she had cleaned out all of her closets, and I think her garage as well, since her return north.  What? I was unable to speak.  I just looked at her and then snuck a peek at the other cousin to see if her jaw had dropped as well.  You see this other cousin and I have been talking off and on all winter about how we need to clean out our closets, basements, garages, etc.  We have even considered cleaning out each other's as an incentive to get the job done -- you know -- thinking it would be fun to sort out someone else's stuff... like it is more fun to clean up someone else's kitchen than your own.  Alas -- we have accomplished very little. Our closets remain clogged, and although this other cousin has cleaned her basement and garage,  the spiders have settled into my basement- spinning a veritable web of condos by now for sure -- and my garage...? I have only swept it twice since the first thaw. Among the three of us, I am definitely in last place.  To sit there and listen to someone who has actually accomplished these tasks is to sit in awe.  It is impressive. Here's my theory --- at the core of the problem is that I do not like change. Further, I don't like to part with my favorite clothing and "stuff". I might need it again.  I am, for example, still mourning the loss of a long green knit dress that I used to wear on particularly cold winter days. Can you identify? Are there others out there who have clothing in three sizes?

Okay; so there. I confess that I am on the stodgy side as far as change is concerned. I tend to hang on.  It is a fact that I have had to be dragged kicking and screaming into the current world as it evolves and the new enters. I have my theories as to why, but who cares really?  It doesn't matter.  I am who I am in this respect. I actually think that one of the reasons I retired from teaching is that "they" took away my blackboard and chalk and replaced it with a whiteboard setup complete with electronic everything and markers that have a disgusting odor about them.  Oh my, ... it was all too much! The whiteness of that board and coping with adolescents who could text without looking at their hidden cell phones were most irritating. Handling and policing electronics in the classroom take away from the ideal learning experience as far as I am concerned. I fear that there is a large percentage of young people out there who do not know how to talk with other people unless they can use abbreviations and emoticons, not to mention all those who don't know how to add or subtract in their head, or... how to make change properly. (Please don't send me one of those "Old Fart" baseball hats.  I know... I know....)   

Is there a point when tolerance levels drop and the ability/willingness to adapt changes? Having discussed this with others on a couple of occasions, I am thinking that the answer is "yes".  Nevertheless, although my closets are overflowing at the moment and my To Do List is long... most often I eventually do come around and adapt -- often I actually adopt the latest and wonder how I ever did without it. Cable TV and Caller ID are just two examples. Going back a bit further,  I also own a microwave and, in fact, use it once in a while to melt butter, to make popcorn or to warm up left-overs. Does anyone actually cook in a microwave?  Further... I am typing on the keyboard that is attached to my desktop PC, but... I also own a laptop and an android phone, both of which I know how to use - sort of. I installed my own WiFi. Impressed? When I first heard of these "inventions" I thought they were newfangled gimmicks, gizmos with no future. I didn't buy Microsoft stock at the beginning either.  So -- that tells you something. Some of us change resistant folks miss a few opportunities.

Some things do not change, however.  Take a good hot dog and "home made" ice cream, for example.  You can find those for sure on Findley Lake, New York at Krasa's Kove. They serve the best -- Smith's and Addie's.  It is especially nice when you can share them with fun cousin/friends...even if one of them does have clean closets and the other an organized basement and garage. Some things it is just necessary to forget and forgive.  Plus -- I am thinking that it is possible that clean closets, basements, and garages will need cleaning again. There's still time to catch up...or not. My cousins don't care if I am behind.  We have more important and fun things to care about.  That will never change.  Nice....

"You got this''

Some slang words, like "cool", seem to hang around for generations. They simply work... or... no one has come up with a better choice that will work as well. Other words pass through the vernacular quickly -- sort of "run their course" and never make it into the urban dictionary or any dictionary for that matter. It works the same for phrases.  One phrase that I have been hearing for a while now and that I really like is "You got this".  I can only speculate as to its origin.  Maybe it is a derivative of "I get it" but going a step further somehow. But anyway, it works for me ... is somehow reassuring.... If someone says "You got this", it means that they feel that you are totally capable of handling whatever "it" is.  How nice.  I guess you could say "I got this" as well to convey that you will get it done, whatever "it" is.  It is confidence building either way.

Then again there are those temporarily popular words and phrases that have a short shelf life and most often we are glad about that. I mean ... it is hard to take a mature adult seriously when the word "rad" is spoken with a straight face. The current use of the phrase "on fleek" is particularly annoying to me.  I am hoping this one goes its own way very soon.

I have to tell you though, there are a few phrases that I never or rarely found the opportunity to use, but that still strike me funny years after their popularity has diminished.  Do you remember... 

• Gag me with a spoon (Actually I think I may have used that one once or twice.)
• All that and a bag of chips
• Talk to the hand (That is obnoxious to be sure... but still funny somehow.)

Language is so odd; it changes and evolves along with us.  Did you know, for instance, that in the 1920's the slang word "bimbo" was used to refer to a tough guy?   Just sayin'.... Odd as it may be, our ever-changing language does the best job that it can.  It comes in handy. For example...  Are you enjoying a few of the many difficult challenges of "getting older" or of life in general? Read carefully and "listen" to my words .... You got this. 

Office Supplies

My sister and I love office supplies.  We have enough stationery, folders, colored paper and assorted note pads, markers, and colored pens/pencils to stock a  small warehouse. When I was a little girl I used to play store and pretend to sell cards, Lindy pens, and nice writing paper. Later on, especially in college, I would write letters on stationery that you could almost see through and use sealing wax on the envelopes. The light blue and gray were my favorite colors of this paper, but the off-white was also special. Was it called onion skin or something like that?  As I grew older I continued to love to write letters on nice writing paper.  Now that I find typing easier than writing by hand because I can keep up with what I am thinking better, I often find special printer paper to use, but it's not quite the same thing. Further -- times have changed and I am disappointed to find that fewer and fewer people actually write letters. I rarely get a response by snail mail -- it's always email or text or a phone call.  Email, texting, and phone calls are nice... but somehow too easy, too convenient.  I suspect that many people our age have piles of writing paper yellowing in desk drawers along with dried out markers, old fountain pens, and a few tablets of post-it notes curling on the edges that are just too cute to use. Why are we saving these things?

More to the point though is that I am now thinking that this love of office supplies may be hereditary.  On a rainy day recently, my two little grandkids were at my house, and when I went into my office to write a couple of checks, they followed. They have a tendency to do that... which is totally fine with me. I like it.  They each have their own work area in my office as they have their own business to conduct -- like pages to color and "stuff" to cut up into little pieces.   Each child loves to have a "desk" full of office supplies like stickers, envelopes, little scissors, scotch tape, and... a stapler. I am telling you -- it's amazing.  They will sort, stick, lick, cut, tape, and staple for a full hour.  We also pass notes to one another.  Did I mention that I have colored paper?  Oh my...! My granddaughter particularly likes to sort her markers and crayons and then draw on lavender paper, purple being one of her two favorite colors.  Anyway... while they were working at their desks, I managed to write those checks and to get things ready to mail. It all worked out nicely.  They worked hard -- although I have to mention -- they did take breaks from playing office to dance to The Eagles, whose music my grandson had blasting on my Bose.  Now that I think of it, I think every office should offer dancing breaks.  Would you agree?  

I need to check with my sister to see if her two little grandkids also love "desk work".  I am thinking that they do. I know for sure that they would love digging through all her office supplies. I would like to do that myself.  Unlike me of rural America, she actually has several office supply stores where she lives. She can go inside and touch things and check out all the new stuff.  She even owns a label maker... and uses it. I am so jealous.  

I am also thinking that her grandkids may love dancing breaks as well.  Like I said -- some of these tendencies may be hereditary.