From shoes to uncles

There's an editorial in WSJ today from a woman who had been told by her doctors she had to give up high heels. There's a pay wall, but I know she finally opted for good health rather than be crippled. I was never a shoe fanatic, but I did wear high heels, probably 3" in high school and college, then 2" in my 40's, then sort of wedgies, and now flat Mary Jane's. After I retired in 2000 at 60 I was always well dressed when I went out in public--like to the coffee shop, grocery store or various club meetings. Until about 2010, I always wore high heels with my slacks. After exercise class I would go home and change clothes rather than appear in the grocery store in my athletic clothes. Somewhere after 70 I decided that was probably wasted energy. These memories are included in the blog I wrote in 2015 about "What I used to do and don't anymore." If I hadn't written it, I might not remember I ever wore high heels.

My grandmother Weybright held out as long as she could. Born in 1876 she was still wearing sensible high heels and a nice dress when I would drive her to cattle sales or the state fair (she managed her farms) in the late 1950s. Women were stronger and smarter in those days. I think she also wore a hat in public.

In the photo below (1949) my grandmother is in the back on the right and I can see she's wearing heels with a strap; her sister-in-law, Alice Jay, who was older is seated on the left and is also wearing heels. It was a terribly hot sticky day, and I was very uncomfortable as I can see from the look on my face.

  

The person taking the photo was my uncle, J. Edwin Jay, the retired president of Wilmington College in Ohio. I decided to check the internet, and found that a younger faculty member had decided to publish in 2015 Jay's story of his years at Wilmington on the internet from a typed manuscript he found in the library. So I looked up Prof. McNelis who had retired, and sorry to say he died about 6 months ago, so I can't thank him for that nice gesture. Uncle Edwin and I corresponded for years, and I made a special trip to see him before he died in Detroit in 1963. And we know all this because some journalist has given up her painful shoes.

James I. McNelis, III, Ph.D. (teachingtolkien.org)

James McNelis Obituary (2023) - Eureka, CA - Times-Standard (legacy.com)

History and Tradition - Wilmington College (Wilmington, Ohio)

Here's What "Trendy" Shoes Looked Like In Every Decade Of The 20th Century (ranker.com)

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad

 

Back to the seventies, Hippity Hop and Big Wheel

I'm not sure why I posted this 10 years ago on Facebook, except to tell of my parents' voices in my head. They are about 60 in the photo, so I was maybe 34. The original in 2013 said, "Hallmark should have a card to celebrate the day you become your parent(s). (Heard on the radio) I would love to sound like my mother, but usually it is Dad who speaks. He would give a solid yes or no, and Mom would say, "We'll see," so we interpreted that any way that suited us."

Now I've waited too long to tell about the visit or what we did. If I had my photo album, I might have notes. It was spring, that's a flowering quince which will take over the yard if you aren't careful, a sand box which Bob built and the neighborhood cats used. The kids weren't very interested in t.  The toys are Big wheel and Hippity Hop. Anyone remember those? Today about 50 years later I'm wearing mom's hairstyle in this photo. It's very windy this week at the Lake. Not once did I ever hear her complain about her hair, but I do every day. Every day. Oh, how I miss her wisdom, strength and love of service.

Charles Arthur "Chuck" Ballard, 1931-2023

Charles Ballard, November 11, 1931 - April 14, 2023

DIXON — Charles Arthur “Chuck” Ballard, 91, passed away on Friday, April 14, 2023, from complications following hip surgery. He was born on Nov. 11, 1931, to Arthur and Myrtle (Phillips) Ballard near Leaf River, Ill. His parents were farmers and lived on various farms that his dad managed in western Ogle County. He was raised on an old-school farm where everyone pitched in and did their part.

While there, he attended a one-room schoolhouse in Pine Creek Township, then went on to graduate from Leaf River High School. He entered the U.S. Navy and served as a medic on the aircraft carrier USS Gilbert Islands, a Commencement Bay-Class escort carrier. He then attended the University of Illinois, College of ACES, graduating with degrees in horticulture and business management. He studied in the famous Morrow Plots and was voted Most Eligible Bachelor of the entire university. His career began with Del Monte, which took him to Rochelle, IL. While there he met his wife, Jacqueline (nee Kilfoil), who fixed him up with a friend of hers, but it was his post-date conversations over coffee with Jackie that led them to start courting. They were married on Labor Day Weekend, 1960, in Franklin Grove, IL. Jackie was seven years his senior and Chuck became an instant dad to her children, Billie Duncan and Tom Duncan.

His career with Del Monte took them to Indiana, living in Frankton, Frankfort and Fort Wayne, before taking a position as the store manager at the Sears Catalog Store back in Rochelle. In 1967, he became the first director of the Flagg-Rochelle Community Park District, which initially ran out of their dining room. While establishing the park district he met his lifelong friend, Phil Nye, Jr., and those two created thousands of memories together hunting, fishing, dinners with their wives and a trip out west in 2021 that was one for the books. His next career move was to White Pines State Park in Oregon, IL to serve as its head ranger. There are so many wonderful family memories at The Pines while they lived in the park. He then was promoted to Assistant Regional Manager with the Illinois Department of Natural Resources, he was involved in everything to do with the state parks, from managing the staff to securing equipment and working on projects.

He and Jackie lived life to the fullest, always a spark and laughter when they were around. He taught all his granddaughters to fish and lessons such as what a poison ivy plant looks like, that came in handy. They always lived at a house with a fantastic sledding hill for the granddaughters, and he would walk outside barefoot in the winter to greet guests. He and Jackie split their time between Dixon, Florida and Wisconsin, no one ever truly knew where they were at any given time, but we knew they were having a ball. Their cabin in Mauston, WI was a woodsy gathering place for family and friends, fishing was always on the agenda. Chuck spent much of his spare time outdoors, hunting and fishing, he was an excellent shot and holidays always included something he’d bagged during hunting season. Jackie wasn’t the best gamecook, but we all ate it anyway.

He was a patient teacher and guide, a fair leader and devoted to his family and friends, and he loved ice cream more than anyone we knew. Charlie could spin a tale like no other, he was an incredible storyteller. Many times he’d say, “did I tell you about the time …” and we all knew we were in for a treat. He was always positive, pleasant and content, even while enduring sorrowful losses and facing the challenges of aging.

Chuck is survived by his son, Tom Ballard of Byron; son-in-law, Neil O’Malley of Belvidere; niece, Barbara Ballard of Dixon; five granddaughters: Cathy (Mike) Dummer of Middleton, WI, Colleen (Gregg) Petrosky of Sterling, IL, Mary (Greg) Pippert of Buffalo, MN, Ellen O’Malley of Rochelle and Jenny (Dan) Pakenham of Rochelle; grandson-in-law, Scott (Kate) Loos of Kronenwetter, WI; great-grandchildren: Abby (Kevin) Martin of Decatur, IL, Patrick (Kailee) Petrosky of St. Paul, MN, David Dummer of Scottsdale, AZ, Taylor Renner of Rochelle, Molly Petry of Rochelle, Katelyn Dummer of Middleton, WI, Mitchell Petrosky of Dubuque, IA, Margaret Pippert of Minneapolis, MN, Nora Petry of Normal, IL, Eliza Petry of Urbana, IL, Isaac Pippert of St. Cloud, MN and Logan Loos of Kronenwetter, WI as well as great-great-granddaughter, Aria Brake of Rochelle.

He was preceded in death by his wife, Jackie, in September of 2010; his daughter, Billie O’Malley of Belvidere, IL in May of 2020; his parents, Arthur and Myrtle Ballard of Oregon, IL; his brother and sister-in-law, Phil and Shirley Ballard of Oregon, IL; and his granddaughter, Jane O’Malley Loos of Kronenwetter, WI.

A visitation will be held on Sunday, April 23, 2023 from 1-4 p.m. at Unger-Horner Funeral Home, 400 N. Sixth St., Rochelle. A burial with military honors will be on Monday, April 24 at 10 a.m. at Plainview Cemetery in Mount Morris. A luncheon and celebration of life will be hosted by the family at noon at the VFW in Rochelle. Bring your funny stories because we’re going to celebrate a wonderful man. Memorials may be made to the American Parkinson’s Disease Association or Rochelle VFW Post 3878. Visit www.ungerhorner.com to sign the online guest book. Obituary | Charles Ballard | Unger-Horner Funeral Home & Cremation Service (ungerhorner.com)

 

Chuck was my father's cousin. September 2018.

We met in 1959 when students at U. of I. 

When and where are those golden years we've heard about?

Yesterday I received a cartoon-poem from a high school friend, Rusty Rush, about the Golden Years. Actually, I didn't know him in high school, we met on the internet in a group managed by a mutual high school friend from when both played basketball for different high schools. When I ask myself when do those golden years start, I remind myself they came and went. My golden years were my 60s to mid-70s. Or 2000-2015. I had a thoroughly good time and was healthy enough to move around easily and travel in uncomfortable buses and bumpy plane rides. Much better than being a teen-ager. And although I loved my job, retirement in those years was just fun.  Every day I decided how to use my time. If time is money, I was a billionaire. This is a public service announcement in case you've been asking.

  

Art classes at the Senior Center 2001

 

New home (now 23 years) in condo association with great neighbors

 and someone else to take care of the lawn and snow.

  

Joined a book club in fall 2000. I've now read

some mystery books.

  

Joined Conestoga and visited historical sites in Ohio;

Cleveland, Cincinnati, Marion, Dayton, Canton, Blannerhasset, 

Mansfield  and many in Columbus. Airplanes, automobiles, 

graveyards, churches, museums, gardens, buildings, presidents' homes.

  

Travel to Alaska, Germany, Austria, Finland, Russia, Estonia, 

Canada, Ireland, Scotland, Italy, Turkey, Greece, Israel,

Egypt, Spain

 

Architectural tours with local Frank Lloyd Wright group to

  New York, Oklahoma, Ohio, Indiana, Missouri, Arkansas

  

Train trip to California 2003 for Bob Sr. 90th birthday,

Glen Canyon, Grand Canyon, Flagstaff, Glacier Park,  

and in 2006

for Debbie's wedding and FLW tours and 

in 2011 for

  

Visits with Debbie and John and Rick and Kate,

 Dana Point, Laguna Beach, Malibu, Orange Co., Palm Springs,

Reagan Museum

 

Enjoying full season from 2001-2022 at our summer

home of 34 years in Lakeside, Ohio

  

Painting of our cottage on Third Street by Barby Bright

 

Family get-togethers at the Lake

 

Phil's home--Mother's Day

 

Holidays with family--Phoebe's home

 

Visits with Illinois family

 

Visits with Indiana family (Jean's 80th party)

 

Participated in many art shows

 

And 20 years of writing this blog, 20,017 posts,

with 3,567,726 views

(must be an old pie chart since most

are now political)

Telling horse stories

 Our 12 year old neighbor was sitting on the porch talking to Bob when I got home from a nutrition lecture (no one can eat that many fruits and vegetables).  He loves horses, and rides a pony that belongs to someone else, but now is getting so tall he needs to find a horse.  Bob told him I had a horse at his age, so I told him the stories--mostly disaster type, since my horse wasn't well trained, I tied him in our back yard to graze or paid to board him at a farm and then had to catch him in order to ride.  I told him about the trail rides and tying a red ribbon to his tail to let others know not to get too close.  I told him about his unusual, teeth jarring gait, and how he'd expand his belly so the saddle would slide under when we rode him.  Mostly bad memories--I hope I didn't discourage him too much. He fell on me the first week I had him, and I've had back troubles ever since.  He now knows more of my horse stories than my kids. My mother and her sister had horses too one summer when their family visited their farms in Montana (?) or Kansas.   We didn't take a lot of photos in those days (1952); this may be one of the few I have.  I saved my babysitting money to purchase him but the upkeep was pretty stiff for a 12 year old--something like $10 a month for me to board him at a farm near Camp Emmaus. It certainly didn't turn out like the horse stories I'd read as a kid.

Gene Corbett, 1930-2022

Floyd Eugene Corbett, 91, of Mount Morris, passed away at KSB Hospital in Dixon on Monday, May 30, 2022. Gene was born on December 19, 1930, in Grand Detour to Joe and Bessie (Ballard) Corbett.

Gene graduated from Mt. Morris High School – Go Mounders!! He married Betty Hanes in 1949. Gene was an electrician where he worked for ComEd and for Quebecor Printing, retiring in 1993.

Corby enjoyed watching the Oregon boy’s high school football games, puttering around the house and cruising, whether it was in his car or later on his mower. Now he can climb any tree he wants without our fear of his falling!!

He is survived by his children, Ronald Corbett and Jenny Gann (Mike Bevill). Grandchildren, Peggy (Jeff) Cox, Paula (Gary Sharp) Brevig, Jennifer Corbett, Erin (Pat) Harbaugh and Brittany (Darren) Brown. Nine great-grandchildren, Zachary Cox, Taylor Brevig, Tatum Brevig, Marissa Corbett-Villa, Isabella Diaz, Mia Watson, Kylee Brown, Kamryn Brown, and Logan Harbaugh. And brother, Derril (Joyce) Corbett.

He is preceded in death by his parents, wife Betty, son Fred and brothers, Howard, Russell, John and sisters, Gladys, Marian, Dorothy and Lois.

A funeral service will be held at 5:00 P.M. on Wednesday, June 8th at Finch Funeral Home. Visitation will be held prior to the service from 4:00 P.M. until service time. Burial was in Plainview Cemetery. A luncheon will be held at the Mt. Morris Moose after the funeral service.

Finch Funeral Home, 405 East Hitt, Mount Morris, IL assisted the family with services.

January 24

The book of Hebrews in the NT (Ch. 11 and 12) says we have a cloud of witnesses --and that's all the OT saints and the ones who died for Christ, and all our loved ones who have gone before. Twenty one years ago today my mother left us--but she's got a seat in the grandstand cheering us on, "Therefore, since we also have such a large cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us lay aside every weight and the sin that so easily ensnares us. Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us. . . "

Purging again--old photos

 It was not my intention to look through old photos.  Old framed photos.  Old, dusty and moldy framed photos with glass that had to be washed.  I was collecting Christmas dishes to go to the resale shop and opened a box.  There they were.  

After I got the Christmas boxes moved we (Bob had to help me move things) also found two big storage boxes of memorabilia from trips; but that will be another blog.

In the middle of the night it came to me.  I'd remove all the portraits from the frames and donate the frames.  After a very long nap today that left me too groggy to tackle this job, I first found an album that had no photos in it, and the open slip was at the top of the pages so it would take large photos.  So I took it to the basement and began removing the photos from the frames, wiping and washing as I went. Things were going well until I came across a church directory photo of my parents, about 5 x 7 and somewhat faded, and a very unattractive hair style for my mom. When I turned it over to remove the backing I discovered it had been glued.  I had to get several tools to separate the backing from the wood frame, which had glued brown paper under it.  When I finally got that separated from the wood, I discovered that the photo had been nailed in!  Yes, 10 thin nails about 1/2 inch then pressed against the photo. In a thousand years, this 45 year old photo wasn't going anywhere. Obviously, this had been done by the directory company.  Without breaking the glass, there was no way to remove the photo. So, I've scanned it and will have to throw away the photo.  The frame is raised, so I couldn't close the lid of the scanner making the image fuzzy.  It's painful to throw away photos, and I still have boxes to go.  I've labeled it 1973, however, until I find the church directory, I won't know for sure.

An amazing woman, Amy Coney Barrett

I knew a lot of amazing women when I was growing up. My grandmothers and aunts (Bessie, Leanor, Marian, Gladys, Lois, Dorothy, Muriel, Mary) mothers of friends (Esther, Millie, Rita, Rosalie, Ada, Hazel, Lois, Vivian and others with faces in my memory, but not their names). School teachers, nurses, businesses owners, farmers) and the mothers who were there for us when we burst through the door after school. And, of course, my own mom, the brightest star in my galaxy of women. But I don't think we ever imagined such a talented jurist, a woman on the Supreme Court, mother of 7, like Amy Coney Barrett. I'm glad I lived long enough to see it.

  

An old photo of Phil

Today I received a nice photo of our son Phil who died in April. My cousin Sharon who lives in Canada sent it in a letter. It was taken in 1981 at a gathering at my mother's farm in Franklin Grove for the funeral of my cousin, Sharon's brother, Richard Weybright who died when he was 43. Phil was 13. Phil loved our vacations at the farm. I remember being there, but didn't remember who else was there except for Richard's parents. Richard had died in November 1980, so apparently the ashes were brought "home" from Arizona for burial in Ashton, Illinois where my grandparents and their son Clare who died in WWII are buried.

From left: Phil, Aunt Muriel, Chris Corbett, Bob, Dale Jasper

 

Graduation Day

The Crew Cuts were a Canadian boys group popular when I was a teen.  Today I was trying to get the cd player in my clock radio to work, and pulled their disc from a Lakeside appearance a few years back. It worked after some button experimenting. Graduation Day wasn't their hit (it was Four Freshmen), but it came on. It was a 50s do-wap collection. Made me sort of sad for all the graduates who didn't get their big day.

With Mom in the dining room at 4 S. Hannah.  She was 45 and I was 17.

Down on the farm, 1969

  

Our children loved our vacations at my mother's farm located between Franklin Grove and Ashton, IL. My niece Cindy sent this treasure. I'm thinking this is June, 1969 and Cindy's family was living there. We'd come down ( we always said "down" when traveling from Mt. Morris to Franklin) to check out the remodeling progress. Eventually my mother created a wonderful retreat type facility for church groups. So Phil was about 7 months old in this photo. My nieces and our son Stan (deceased) were all within weeks of each other in age. That's Cindy on the far left. Squished and wiggling in her cousin's arms is our Phoebe. The guy with red hair is Bob.

Philip Vincent Bruce, 1968-2020

Philip Vincent Bruce was born November 25, 1968 in Columbus, Ohio, and died April 21, 2020 in the home of his parents, Robert and Norma Bruce, in Upper Arlington, Ohio. He so longed to be in his own home in Canal Winchester where he'd lived for many years, however, a diagnosis of glioblastoma on October 1, 2019 meant he needed around the clock care in his last months. Phil attended Tremont, Jones and Upper Arlington High School, graduating with the class of 1987, enjoying all the amenities of the pools, parks and athletic leagues growing up, and the spiritual guidance and programs of Upper Arlington Lutheran Church where he was confirmed. He later took a few business classes at Columbus State. Although Phil learned to read before kindergarten, what he really cared about was not books or degrees, but people.  From the time he could walk, his interest was gathering a crowd for play or friends to visit, or standing on a stool to reach the kitchen wall phone. In pre-school at First Community Church, story hour and sitting still were not interesting; the playground or playing in the corner with other "busy" boys was his idea of a good morning. And that never changed. To the end of his life, he maintained friendships from his old neighborhood, elementary and high schools, the work place and church.

For both socializing and alone time, he loved music, especially guitar. Although he did have a few guitar and piano lessons, for the most part he didn't have patience for that and preferred working out the details on his own, and for that he would be absorbed for hours. He loved to put words together and wrote his own music.  It was his solace in alone time to unwind after a hectic day at work and his main vehicle for building friendships and socializing. Phil from the beginning was spiritual--and often would express his tenderness in comforting or visiting the suffering. His parents heard many stories about his reaching out to families of his friends or to co-workers in difficult times.  But he was also religious and enjoyed the sacraments, structure and organization that holds Christians together when we gather to worship Jesus as the visible church. As a little guy he would comment that he could feel the water on his head while the pastor gathered the children to watch a baptism. The last decade of his life he participated in the fellowship of Gender Road Christian Church and enjoyed playing in the praise band. He dearly loved his church, and even at the end of life would talk about going back to church in a week or two. His last communion was on April 14. A final prayer service with his family was held at his bedside after he died with Pastor John Romig of GRCC and Pastor Paul Ulring of UALC.  At this time, the funeral at Gender Road Christian Church has not been scheduled until we can gather freely and remember Philly B with stories and songs.

Phil is survived by his parents, Bob and Norma Bruce, his sister and brother-in law, Phoebe and  Mark Doncevic, many aunts and uncles, Jean and Bob Poisal, Debbie Sterling, Rick and Kate Bruce, Joanne and Nelson Miller, Stan and Casey Corbett, and many cousins, especially Joan and Dan Poynter, and some who sat on his lap as babies and then grew up to be bigger than he was becoming good friends as adults, and devoted friend to the end, Sara Reichly.

Phil was blessed with many grandparents and knew and loved them all--great grandparents Joe and Bessie Corbett, great grandmother Irma Byrum, Jim and June DeMott, Howard and Olive Corbett, and Bob and Rosie Bruce. Two brothers, Stanley and Patrick Bruce, died before Phil was born, but he always included them. Phil had been married and divorced, and for many years enjoyed being a step-father.  Phil loved animals, and after his last dog Rosa, a chocolate lab, died in 2018, he didn't get another dog, but started a pet sitting business and loved each client as his own.

For most of his adult life Phil had worked in the automotive repair business, in Grandview Heights with his Bruce Automotive Services, with Jack Maxton as the Quick Serve manager in Worthington, and most recently with Jeff Wyler in Canal Winchester.  He also had been an insurance agent at Collins Financial Services.

Baptism, 1969

With Grandma Corbett at the farm, Franklin Grove, IL 1971

With Grandma and Grandpa DeMott, Phoebe and Mom, Indianapolis

Phoebe and Phil at cousin Joan's for Christmas holiday

2018 Praise Band, Gender Road Christian Church 

2019 high school friends

Twenty years plus

Earlier in January it occurred to me that I should write something on the 20th anniversary of my mother's death, but the 24th came and went and it wasn't until today when I was looking at my bunny coffee cup which was hers, that I recalled it had been twenty years. She died on the 24th of January 2000, her mother on the 25th of 1963 and her father on the 26th of 1968. The bunny cup has a mommy rabbit and eight little brown and white bunnies, and is my favorite cup.  I use it almost every morning.

Today when photos are a dime a dozen and people just whip out a phone to capture the moment, it seems odd that I don't have a photo of the three of them together, except in larger group pictures, like this one from 1949 in Wilmington, Ohio. Grandpa is between his older sister, Alice (b. 1870), and grandma, and then my mom.  My brother Stan and I are squinting in the sun. I'm wearing my most favorite dress of all time--it's yellow, but only I can tell when I look at the photo.  We were on our way to the Church of the Brethren Annual Conference in Ocean Grove, New Jersey, but stopping along the way to visit and spend the night with relatives. As I found out years later from talking with Mother, this was not a happy trip--my grandparents were trying to find out information on the death of their son who died in 1944 in WWII. My mother who was doing the driving was suffering debilitating headaches and my brother got sick from the heat.  But, being only 10, it all went over my head and I remember the highpoints with relatives, the tourist spots and the ocean.

 Uncle Edwin Jay, who apparently took the photo, was president of Wilmington College from 1915-1927.  (I looked through the website for Wilmington College and found this about his 12 years there: "The so-called "period of expansion" occurred under the leadership of President J. Edwin Jay, under whose tenure Lebanon Normal University merged with Wilmington College and teacher training was introduced into the curriculum.")  I think he probably died in 1964 and may have been 95, but I have no idea what he did between 1927 and 1964. He and I corresponded, and we never discussed his life. If his writings and letters are archived where he taught, there will be a group from a teen-ager in Illinois.

 

Thoughts on Mother and mothering

Sunday, August 25, was the 85th anniversary of my parents’ wedding. They died in 2000 and 2002, having celebrated together 65 years during the previous August wedding of my sister in 1999.  My dad wasn’t one to keep a diary, but he did jot things down in a little spiral bound notebook later in life, and he noted that on their anniversary in 2000 he took Mother’s ashes on a ride in the country on their 66th.  He never tired of driving the country roads even though he had done that most of his life to earn a living. After they’d both retired, he and Mom would sometimes take Sunday drives around Ogle and Lee counties just recalling the past, or enjoying the changes of seasons, or how the crops were doing, or which farms were being kept up. In fact, even when I was a child, Sunday afternoon “entertainment” might be driving to Iowa to look around. That certainly wouldn't have been my choice with 4 children in the car.

I’d also been thinking about Mom because a very old memory had popped to the surface during one of our Lakeside 2019 classes by Chef Stacy.  It was on home made pasta.  We didn’t eat a lot of pasta when I was growing up—our spaghetti came out of a can and would be for lunch--never dinner. I didn’t learn to appreciate pasta until meeting Bob’s mother, who made fabulous homemade spaghetti, with tossed salad and garlic bread.   But Mom was also trying out new things, and she must have seen an article on making noodles, because we went through a phase when we lived in Forreston of her testing out this new skill.  I remember watching her make it—the recipe is very simple, just flour, water and eggs.  She did her best, but the beef roast and noodles dish was usually a gooey mess.  Dad might have said something about it, and she dropped that experiment forever to disappear from her menus.  Stacy made it look so easy, I may try it, and dedicate the gooey mess to Mom’s memory.

In today’s meditation I read a letter from Concepcion Cabrera de Armida to her son Pancho (nickname for Francisco).  She died in 1937, and was a wife, mother, and writer in Mexico.  She apparently wrote about 65,000 of these little messages.  It reminds me a lot of what my mother would say to her children.

• Avoid the least quarrel and do not stop at any sacrifice to have peace in your home.
• It is better to bend than to break.
• With prudence, education and certain common sense, many troubles can be avoided.
• Oh, my son! Never forget that everything you are, all that you have and the happiness you now enjoy, you owe to the good Jesus who has loved you with such tenderness! From how many dangers he has delivered you!
• Be grateful, my son: recognize with gratitude the fatherly tenderness of God over you and demonstrate your gratitude by your actions, and never be ashamed of being a good Christian.
• Be dignified with everyone but never haughty.
• Keep on being honest under every circumstance.
• Do not soil your soul with business deals that extort your fellowmen.
• May your soul be always clean—poverty does not soil or shame one—and you will be happy.
• May your home, dear Pancho, be a model of Christian homes where the Lord reigns and a worldly atmosphere does not enter; where the peace and happiness that are born from the accomplishment of one’s duty, be settled there.
• Never spend more than you have, not even all that you earn; thrift helps marriages avoid a lot of trouble.
• But do not be avaricious; aim for a happy medium maintaining a decent and fitting social standing, not living in luxury, even if you become rich.
• Let the poor be considered one of your ordinary expenses, and God will not fail you.
• Don’t limit your piety to exterior observance but rather practice the virtues, being patient in adversity, resigned to the adverse events of life, because if we receive from the Lord so many goods, why should we not also receive the sufferings he desires to send us? (Magnificat, vol. 21, no. 6 p. 387-388.)

Happy Birthday, Carol

Happy 82nd birthday to my sister Carol who died in 1996 at 58. We still miss you. Photo is 1989 with her daughter and son. Last year we got to meet her great granddaughter who visited us at Lakeside with her grandparents. What a treat. Carol was the only one of my family with any fashion flair, and loved beautiful clothes, bright colors, stylish purses, shoes and jewelry. As an enterprising teen, she sold Avon products, and was one of the "number please" voices back when our home phone was 59-L. Although her primary career was in nursing with a degree from Goshen College, she did own a dress shop in Bradenton, FL, for large size women.
 
Never a snowflake, after high school graduation in 1955 Carol went into Brethren Volunteer Service and did incredible tasks for one so young, like doing church plant surveys in Denver, helping with clean up after flooding in Pennsylvania, teaching Sunday School and leading worship in Kentucky where she road horseback to services because there were no passable roads, and being a "healthy volunteer patient" aka guinea pig at NIH in Maryland. I wonder if she is one of the results cited in this article.  https://clinicalcenter.nih.gov/about/news/newsletter/2007/oct07/newsletter.html  
She was a survivor of childhood bulbar polio in 1949 and struggled with many health issues, but cared for many as a home health nurse in her last years.

Oh to be young (and ignorant) again

There's a guy on Twitter claiming that the generation born between 1985-1995 is the most unique [sic] ever because of what they've experienced. Ha! Unique? That's nothing. My grandmother (Bessie) was born in the late 19th century and lived to see all the changes in communication, transportation, entertainment and business through the late 20th century. From horse drawn to jet plane, from home deliveries of her babies to high tech hospitals for her old age problems, from church sings to radio, TV and computers. But that's OK, he's too young to know better. What better time to be ignorant about history than when you're young and have time to grow up.

Elizabeth Warren’s minimum wage scam

Looking at the excellent stats in this article, I see I might have been making close to minimum when I worked in high school and saved enough to pay for my first year in college. But it was a gift, not a wage. I wasn't worth it. Someone had to take a chance. And I could get a 25 cent tip for a 10 cent cup of coffee in those days.

"The minimum wage prevents some of the least skilled, least educated, and least experienced workers from participating in the labor market because it discourages employers from taking a chance by hiring them. In other words, workers compete for jobs on the basis of education, skill, experience, and price. Of these factors, the only one on which the lesser-educated, lesser-skilled, and lesser-experienced worker can compete is price."

http://www.intellectualtakeout.org/article/why-minimum-wage-shouldnt-be-family-wage?

I had many advantages as a low wage teen that others less fortunate might not have. My employers knew my parents; they knew my sisters;  they had known me since I was a toddler; they knew what our family values were, that I had been taught by my parents to be responsible, on time, and how to treat adults; they knew I was an A student (honor roll was published in the town paper) and could probably be trusted at the cash register (they didn't know how bad I was at math); they knew I could walk to work in snow or rain; they knew my school schedule including social events because their son was the same age; they felt a sense of responsibility to the community, their customer case. And I knew there were 10 other teens who wanted that job.

http://www.intellectualtakeout.org/article/your-first-job-real-costs-minimum-wage

Tickle Me Elmo is for all ages

This is a photo of my nephew David apparently doing a little emergency repair or battery replacement on his grandson’s Tickle Me Elmo.

Someone had given a Tickle Me Elmo to my mother-in-law (maybe us, I don’t remember) when she was in a nursing home.  She loved that toy and would squeeze it, and would just beam when it laughed.  We inherited it after her death in 1998. Bob kept it on a shelf in his office, and one day I suppose the battery malfunctioned and it began vibrating and giggling on its own. Sort of creepy. Not sure what became of it—perhaps we donated it, because it’s not in his office now.  The photo is from 2006.

 

Our mothers in 1993.