Getting ready for the move

 We are moving to a retirement community, and frankly my dear, I'm pooped.  And so is my husband. On Friday we had a quick trip by ambulance to the ER because he was wrestling a painting off the wall which got tangled in the wire and he became short of breath.  He has 4 stents so rather than self diagnose, I called the squad. I had been at the bank depositing cash I'd found around the house (over $3,000) and had gone downstairs to enter the deposit.  Then I noticed he was on the floor "resting his eyes." We were discussing the seriousness of his symptoms and just decided to call rather than be sorry.  So our daughter, son-in-law and I spent the day in the ER admittance with him, and got home about 4 p.m. Today he feels fine and went to church, but I'm still a bit frazzled so I stayed home.

We had 34 paintings on the first floor and 260 total.  That's a lot of wrapping after deciding the locations for safe keeping (our apartment, our daughter's home, or put up for sale). We have not found 3 floor living a problem until this move prep.  We were always careful and limited our ups and downs to about 3 or 4 trips during the day. But the move has put that at more than 30 trips a day. This is definitely not good for either of us.  Today I was moving our emergency food to the kitchen to be disposed of.  I'd carry up a can of tuna, a can of soup, and a can of vegetables.  Then I'd sit down and do something else, or talk to a neighbor.  Then I'd make another trip. I've been emptying them and running the disposal before getting rid of the cans in the recycle bin.

Our wonderful neighbor Barbie brought us dinner last night--a scrumptious Salmon salad and wedding soup with warm bread.  The salads are so large we'll have two meals from that, and we had the soup for lunch after church. She may even help us with some things to take to Indianapolis because she goes there every week to babysit her grandbabies! I've got some genealogy to share with our niece who has shown some interest in that area.  For years people--Aunt Roberta, Aunt Babe, Cousin Jim--have been sending me stuff, now it's time to pass it along.

Today some of our neighbors have been coming by to see if they want to purchase the paintings we don't have plans to use.  My parents 1947 maple twin bed suite with a chest and a dressing table with all the bedding have been given to friends of ours who have lots of grandchildren who come to visit. They were so kind and helpful when Phil died 5 years ago, we know it is going to a loving family. That set started out in Forreston, IL, then moved to Mt. Morris, IL, then to Franklin Grove, IL, then to Columbus, OH, then to Lakeside, OH, then back to Columbus.  A well-travelled bedroom suite. They were also able to use the quilt rack that held Phil's quilt for 5 years that cousin Jeanette made for him shone in the lower photo on the futon.  

kitchen  

Office/den 

About Springfield, Ohio and a popular hymn

Complaints by the locals about imported migrant labor is not new to the U.S. Native born Californians were very hostile to the dust bowl agricultural workers (remember the Joads in Grapes of Wrath book?). In those days, and even when my family lived in Alameda in 1944, they were called Oakies and Arkies, pejorative terms then. Even my mom who was from Illinois didn't like them as she tried to stretch Dad's military pay while they bought what they wanted with government vouchers (or so she thought). In 1942, the Farm Security Administration (part of FDR's "New Deal") operated ninety-five camps with housing for seventy-five thousand people in California. The Library of Congress has an archive of photographs and books about those years and one photographer claimed in 1940 that the FSA camp at Visalia, CA had miserable weather and the local residents were grifters and corrupted. "I like it the least of the western states. My impression is that everything is commercialized, the police & city officials are corrupt grafters, there is little of that gracious western hospitality & most of the people are of that reactionary, super-patriotic, fascist-minded type. Practically every newspaper features a daily red-baiting article with 2 inch headlines that condemn [Democratic] Gov. [Culbert L.] Olson, the NLRB [National Labor Relations Board], or Pres. Roosevelt."

Sounds like a true 2024 Democrat journalist, doesn't he? California and Minnesota even then had very active Socialist and Communist parties.

I know little about California's history or migrant labor. It's just one of those serendipitous things you find in the amazing LC collection while researching a hymn, and find it had been recorded in a migrant labor camp in Visalia in 1940, "Just a closer walk with thee." No one knows who wrote it, but it was the most popular and most recorded hymn of the 20th century.

https://genius.com/Patsy-cline-just-a-closer-walk-with-thee-lyrics  Patsy Cline

https://www.loc.gov/item/toddbib000132/  Library of Congress FSA recording

https://www.hymnologyarchive.com/just-a-closer-walk-with-thee    Details of publishing history

Indian Princess and Campfire Day--memories

My cousin in South Carolina sends out a weekly spiritual message to her friends and relatives and often closes with a "day" event, like popcorn day, or fly a kite day etc. I always look forward to what she has to say. Today she reported is "Campfire Day," so I looked it up, and it seems early August is a good time to sit by a campfire with friends.

 
But it made me wonder what had become of Indian Princesses and Campfire Girls (an outgrowth of father-son recreation and moral guidance by the YWCA in the 1920s), which my daughter and I (and her dad) participated in during the 1970s. I had a lot of fun strolling down memory lane with that one, like how we got our *first cat (see photo), the nice mothers of Tremont School I met, and the scary overnights at a camp in southern Ohio (forgotten the name).

After an extensive 2 minute search I learned that anything with the word Indian in the title is racist/colonialist/demeaning to native Americans so organization has separated from the Y. There are locally run organizations because daddy-daughter activities are still enjoyed and earning badges for service is still considered useful in building character and strong women. There is a local unit for the younger girls in my own community called Two Rivers Council (2 rivers, the Scioto and the Olentangy meet in Columbus).

 
"Two Rivers Council is a group of dads and daughters that strengthens that strong family bond through structured but casual activities - time apart from work and school to focus on family. During our time together, dads and daughters learn outdoor traditions, discuss current events, help out in our community, and enjoy our time in the great outdoors.
Our group includes Upper Arlington girls between kindergarten and third grade. Most of the girls attend Barrington with a few from Tremont, St Agatha, Wellington, and Columbus School for Girls. "Senior Princesses" in grades 4 and 5 are most welcome too! We take our Longhouse name from the two rivers that flow through Columbus: the Olentangy and the Scioto. The sun rises on the Olentangy and sets over the Scioto.

 
The Y-Indian Princess Program (now called Adventure Princesses) was an outgrowth of the Indian Guides, a father-son program started in 1926. That program enabled fathers and sons to participate in a variety of activities that nurtured mutual understanding, love, and respect. The first Indian Princesses came together at the Fresno, California YMCA in 1954. Today, as then, our program affords an unusual opportunity for the concerned and busy father to foster growth in his daughter's development and an understanding of the world around her. The father's role helps her in developing self-esteem, confidence with her peers, and appreciation for the differences among people and families."  https://tworivers.clubexpress.com/content.aspx?page_id=9&club_id=837212

*This is not our first cat, Mystery, born in 1976, but she looked like this.   I can't seem to find any photos of her on my computer.  In those days we didn't take photos every few hours. She was coal black except for a few white hairs under her chin.   We named her Mystery because she was so tiny when our daughter brought her home from an Indian Princess overnight with her dad at Camp Akita, her eyes were blue and we didn't know her sex. She was sort of sickly and the mother and all the other kittens ran away, but Phoebe caught her. Somewhere I do have a photo of her and the children with a carved pumpkin, so it must have been near Halloween. She got well and lived for 18 years. 

Joe Biden mixes family with fuel

In 2004 and 2008 Joe Biden told conflicting stories about coal mining in his family, and now he's done it again at the Ford Electric Vehicle Center in May 2021. Actually, I don't care what his grandfather did, just like I don't care if your great great grandparents who were freed black slaves, owned slaves themselves as many did. I do know the media would have taken Trump to the woodshed for a whipping, if he'd flip flopped on important union and fossil fuel issues.

Flashback: Joe Biden Lied About Family’s Coal Mining Ties (breitbart.com)

Biden delivers remarks at Ford Electric Vehicle Center – Whatfinger News' General Dispatch

Enjoying summer's bounty

 For breakfast this morning I had 2 biscuits warmed up (left over from dinner a few days ago) with tart cherry jam.  My daughter has found a summer farmer's market on the east side whose produce she buys in bulk in the summer.  She bought gallons of tart Michigan sour cherries this summer and processed them into jam.  And we're now enjoying it.  She also bought baskets of cukes and using my Mother's recipe for bread and butter pickles and dill pickles, we've had some of that for holiday meals.  She also bought a lot of corn on the cob and wax beans and processed those for the freezer.  Bob hates corn, but the rest of us really enjoyed a taste of summer at Thanksgiving--tasted like we'd just walked into the field and pulled a few ears off the stalk. She sent some home with me after Saturday dinner, and I enjoyed it for Sunday breakfast. I'd often talked about how wonderful watermelon pickles are (the only produce I've ever canned, and that was 1957), so she found a recipe in my Mother's file box, and made them this past summer using tiny little flower shapes.  She also makes cherry pies with highly decorative crusts. The apple butter is scrumptious but perhaps fewer spices next time, she says.  She's considerably added to her costs by then packaging the jars and Fed-exing them to relatives. She often calls her cousin Amy for advice about mom's recipes if she thinks something doesn't sound right, so I know she got some, and her cousin Joan in Indiana who has been so helpful to us this past year.  I believe her sisters-in-law in Colorado and Kansas benefited from her generosity, and of course we did too. 

Thanksgiving dinner