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Today, June 27, 2021, we became official members of the Brass Armadillo tribe. I think I can call it that because the dealers we met all seem to be there a lot and know each other. This was the first day we set up and put things out for sale. The store is huge: 42,000 square feet of booths, stalls and glass-fronted cases stuffed with everything from fine crystal and china to Beanie Babies and Army Surplus. It is staggering to walk through! Our one stall is 35 inches wide and about 6 feet tall. We have several shelves to fill and rearrange as we see fit. We are starting with a "Christmas in July" theme. Vintage and antique ornaments and things like that. Next month will be something different, maybe sewing and handcrafts, whatever our imaginations come up with. Why are we doing this? The best answer may be that it is a good joint venture for Karla and I. The time spend hunting treasures together is fun for both of us. Karla works so many hours every day that she needs another focus just for fun. it is very hard to get her away from her computer and into a relaxed mindset. And I love the "hunt". Searching through re-sale shops and thrift stores has always been fun for me. This has triggered a memory of other searches! When I was a kid, our family had a cabin on a spring fed lake fairly near our home in Jacksonville. During the hottest part of the day we were not allowed to go into the water, so we played in the woods and yards around our property. At that time having a dumping ground for odds and ends was common, not trash per se, but no longer useful things. And we made play houses furnished with all sorts of "treasures" we found. It would be great if the booth would pay its own way and maybe over time it will break even. But like lots of creative endeavors that really isn't the point. For us this is more about spending time together, exploring possibilities and enjoying finding the perfect thing to fill that spot. So onward we go, junking together. Buy Junk: Sell Antiques! --donna
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As an introvert, Covid isolation was a sort of godsend for me...at first. I was volunteering for four different organizations, all of which shut down immediately last March. It was a bit of relief, since I felt overcommitted, and I wanted to take some time to reprioritize where to spend my time. I learned to appreciate more basic, personally satisfying activities: baking bread, sewing and crocheting. I learned how to compost and am proud of less food waste, as well as rich product for my yard. I hand-made several Christmas gifts, which was rewarding. I learned to appreciate Zoom for connecting with others. I learned the benefits of a consistent meditation and journaling routine. I've learned that I get bored when in my own company too long. Now that I'm vaccinated and enjoying more freedom of movement, I feel a bit exposed, a little like a reemerging mole (but a really cute mole!). I've already committed to a few new volunteer activities (Covid did NOT teach me how to say "no"). However, I've learned to be more selective about how I use my time, and trying to preserve some for family. For instance, we're looking forward to a sleepover with our granddaughter this week. There are certainly things I'll miss about Covid isolation: not wearing makeup, less formal dress, less time in the car, etc. But I'm grateful for new realizations and hope not to forget the satisfactions I discovered during isolation. I think I'm ready to reacquaint myself with people in the flesh! --Janice I learned to be very lazy about meetings and church. It is so easy to stay home and not have to get ready and travel to a location. I find I am now reluctant to go back to in-person meetings, although it was nice to meet the women in a book club in person that I had never seen in person before. It was a great opportunity to change my hair and give up on make-up, at least, for a while. I learned that people unaffected by something often want to deny its existence. That goes for Covid, police targeting of people of color, racism, sexism and the like. This past week, a woman in one group I was in, said her mother voted for the ex-president because she doesn't want things to change. To me that says a lot about what I learned during the pandemic, please don't make me change. I still have changes that came that I don't really like, but to think if I vote a certain way nothing will change seems strange. I keep trying to make myself okay with change. It does make me grow, but I surely don't like it a lot of the time. Who knew that Zoom would become so important and would allow us to maintain relationships in a new way? Some of the changes are definitely positive and then there are the others. --Carolyn I learned that I cannot trust people to follow science, and that they also will not trust the scientists who are trying to discover the truth about new viruses. I learned that people will get away with whatever they can. I also learned that they disdain those who are disciplined, and /or educated, and those who lead lives that follow rational thought. Covid has really made me question my overall optimism of people in general. It makes me want to live by people who think like me. It has made me narrower in my perspectives. This Covid trauma has made me stay closer to home, and reach out less. I don’t like that, but as I age, I have to watch out for myself. I want to be open armed, open minded, accepting of all people. Covid hasn’t changed my mind about inclusivity of gender, race, religions. It has, however, made me consciously aware of a group of people that I do not like: anti-vaxxers, anti-science people, and anti-thinkers, most of whom all vote the same. --Cynthia I never thought much about reminiscences of older family members, and in fact often found them tedious. As a kid and young adult, it seemed like boring history. Anyway, I was more interested in my story than in theirs. As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that their story is my story. I wish I had written a family memoir, with all the collected stories of grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles. They are all dead now, and I’m the repository of what little history remains. I have a few snippets and they fascinate me at this point in my life. I see the importance of a family legacy of values and character, and I appreciate the courage of many of my ancestors. My maternal grandmother’s family came here from Czechoslovakia before her birth in 1914, not speaking English and with only the clothes on their backs but believing in the promise of America. My paternal grandfather lost a family business and his wife at the start of the Depression. He went back to the family farm with his five children and eked out a living somehow. My dad recalled severe poverty but also always recounted with pride that his father turned away the social worker who offered to place some of the children with people who could provide better. Before his death, I coaxed some more stories from my dad, and they were great! Some inspiring and some just funny, such as the time he punched his high school football coach in the nose and got away with it because his sister worked in the principal’s office. His mother was a teacher and her love of reading and emphasis on education had a profound impact on my dad, even though she died when he was five. Because she had imparted those values to his older siblings, two of his brothers became schoolteachers and his favorite brother Bill persuaded my dad to go to college after he got out of the army at age 20. Dad also told me about the time my very naïve and straitlaced mother got drunk on punch at a dean’s reception. He said he got her outside just in time for her to throw up in the dean’s shrubs. We shared a good laugh about that one! I had to get to this point in my life to realize that my ancestors were real people with real life stories, people I would have liked to have known. I wish I had written that book so that when my kids are old enough to reach this realization, they would have a book of family memories. --Terese It was pretty much the same way I came to have my ears pierced.
We had promised Karla she could have her ears pierced on her 13th Birthday. Forty years ago ear piercing wasn't quite as popular as it is now. Of course, I was hoping she would forget about it! When the time came, she hadn't forgotten. An appointment was made with our beautician friend for the big event. We arrive at the appointed time, Karla is excited, all is well as Karla sits in the beautician's chair and gets her ears marked. Then as the gun comes into place, Karla leaps out of the chair and says "You go first Mom". So I did. Karla and Fredrick are both working from home. Their office is as official as it can be, with the addition of 3 small dogs and a great comfy couch. But she feels there is something missing in her life. so she buys a bowl for a Beta fish, which becomes a tank for the Beta and some Neons. Then she starts talking about having some Finches, just because they are fun and relaxing to watch. They don't need people; they entertain themselves and chirp a lot. So on a Sunday outing we go visit a bird store. Parakeets, Canaries, Love Birds, Finches and Cockatiels chirping away and ready for new homes. We talked about my mother having a cockatiel after she retired. Mom had developed CHF so her activities were restricted and her bird, Lollipop, was great company for her. She taught it to talk and spent lots of time with it. As we walked around the bird store and talked about Mom and Lollipon, Karla had another brainstorm! "Happy Mother's Day, Mom. You get a baby cockatiel!" So Bird & I started getting acquainted right then. He was about 4 weeks old and really not too cute. I had found a picture of myself, my sister and neighbor kids, Wilma & Buba not too long before. Buba was my buddy. We were the same age and ran the neighborhood together playing all hours of the day. So my new buddy had to be Buba also. We are making headway with forging a bond and having fun together. I hope he learns to say his name! --Donna One of the fun things about living close to my daughter is getting to spend lots of time together. And when you have lots of time, you get to share memories that don't have a chance to surface during short visits. Like the other day we got to talking about "Cats We Have Known". There was Isiah, Karla's best buddy for many years. His mother was a registered Persian, beautiful gray and white. His father was a traveling salesman who snuck in under cover of darkness. So Isiah had lush fur and a lovely temperament. He slept with Karla and heard all of her secrets, listened to problems and loved her a lot. There was Turtle Cat, a tri-color that wasn't really a calico. Her main talent was dropping kittens, often. She lived under the back steps and was a free spirit. Gilligan earned his name at our first sight of him. He was falling past the dining room window, a blur of white and orange fur, coming from a tree top by the second story of our house. We don't remember him becoming any more graceful as time went on! One day as I walked home from visiting a neighbor down the block, a tiny black and white kitten started following me. Very tiny, very young and very determined to have a home with us. I took him home, scrambled him an egg and named him Bandit. His black and white gave him a mask and white lower face and chest. He grew up to be a lovely fluffy cat, well, he would have been lovely but he just never learned the fine at of grooming all that beautiful long fur. He was a good pet for many years. Others came and went over the years; those are the ones that stuck in our memories. Of course there were other animals too. The best dog was a Sheltie named Christy. Shetland Sheep dogs are smart, great pets, obedient by nature and spoiled me for living with Terriers. The dining room was home to a Guinea pig, living in a wash tub for several years. Christy, the dog would visit with him touching noses to be sure all was well. And sometimes a cat would nap in his straw. Then there was the Mouse Summer. A couple of days before Ray and Karla were to visit the Grandparents in Florida, Ray and a buddy went to the local 5 & 10 store and came home with 2 pregant white mice. Of course, the other mom wasn't having those nasty creatures in her house. They landed in Ray's room in an old aquarium with a screen on top. The mice both had their babies, and the boys promised a couple to another neighborhood kid. Exit Ray and Karla to Florida. A few days later the kid comes for her mice and I sent her upstairs to pick out the ones she wanted. "Where's My Mouse?" she yelled! I was confused; supposed to be in the tank. "No, Gilligan is sitting in the tank and there are no mice". So that was the end of that story. We were blessed to live in a small town where our kids could play outside and have neighborhood friends to hang out with. There was even aa creek/ditch where they could catch crawdads and tadpoles. Fun times to remember together. -- Donna Life changed after Erik died and we began going to another church. There I met Esther Endres who befriended me and showed me many things. Esther had many things that had been challenging in her life, but it did not keep her from giving back in so many ways. She had been volunteer coordinator at First Lutheran for a period of time. When I first knew her, she had stepped down from that position, but was still heavily involved in volunteering and getting others to volunteer. I believe I met Esther through a mutual acquaintance who was linked to the closing of Hissom with residents from there transitioning into the community. I had volunteered there and Esther had had a child there at one time. There were other people at First Lutheran who had had children there or who had some connection or just an interest. Esther, with a bit of help from me, put together a committee of volunteers. Sometimes we went to Hissom as a group and familiarized ourselves with some of the residents there. Our aim was to become friends with those who had no family connections any more. Some of the time at Hissom, families were strongly encouraged to leave a family member and not come back for quite a while so the new resident could make a “good” transition. That really meant that many people had no family connection. Esther was such a good leader and knew how to get others to follow. She was definitely involved, but did not do all the work. I was reminded of this on a Zoom meeting this week with ACTION when a leader from Houston said that your job as a leader is to get others to follow and become leaders as well, not to do the work yourself. Esther was a great example of that. The staff at Hissom were cooperative with our endeavor and thanks to Esther's long connections in the community, our group was even recognized by J.C. Penney and received a Golden Rule Award. We all tried to stay in touch with the person we were matched with once they left Hissom, but that wasn't always possible because of the change in staff at the various locations they went to. I am ever grateful to Esther for friendship, wisdom and guidance. --Carolyn I don’t know if any of you try to give meaning to your dreams, but it’s something I’ve done for a long time. They tell me what I’m really concerned about, or scared of, or what is troubling in my life. I’ve figured out my own symbols. This week, however was a little different. On Thursday morning I awoke at 6:30 with the sun, and knew I could go back to sleep for an hour, which I did. Times like that are usually rich in dreams. That morning I dreamed that a doll fell in front of me, it’s head broke off and started bleeding profusely, and I screamed (not out loud.) One minute later a large beautiful black and blue butterfly flew in front of me, flew around the sky, and then flew upward and out of sight. I immediately got up and told Ed that I was sure that Gil Dahl had died, and I explained the dream. Ten minutes later Catherine Dahl (Gil’s daughter) messaged me that he had died that night. I knew Gil was very sick, so he was the first person I thought of when I figured out that my dream told me that someone died. Later I realized that the “doll” was “Dahl”. That’s how my symbolism often works, using words similar to the real thing. And of course, the butterfly is a universal symbol of transition, and flying upward is the symbol of going to heaven. This is fascinating to me. I always got along with Gil, and I passed him almost daily on my bike rides in Forest Ridge, because he was always painting the fences around the community. We passed him one last time just last week. He was in the passenger seat of his daughter’s car, just coming home from Fellowship for his great grandson’s baptism. He smiled weakly and waved. Good bye Gil, I know you’re in a better place now. --Cynthia When we moved to Texas two years ago, one of the first things we did was look for a church. It's how we've approached the move to a new community through many moves, over many years. Our church life has always formed the structure that determines how we live. Many of our friends come from our church community; much of our energy is utilized in church activities. We were disappointed in our first efforts to find an ELCA congregation and eventually settled on the Presbyterian church we passed on the way to and from one of the churches we visited a couple of times. Something about the "aura" of Round Rock Presbyterian invited us in, where we found welcoming members and a pastor passionate about social justice and service to the community. The theology and worship customs were consistent with our faith. It felt just right. I joined the Mission Committee and jumped right in to service activities: Mobile Loaves & Fishes (making & distributing meals to homeless or disadvantaged in inner-city Austin), Habitat for Humanity build days, Blessing Box (food pantry) contributions, and volunteering to co-coordinate a partnership with an elementary school with a high percentage of Spanish-speaking, low-income, low-performing students. Despite the challenges of a Covid year, each of these activities has been rewarding. Recently, I was asked to participate with a group from our church in a 12-week class led by The Church Lab of Austin in "Reimagining Service." The primary focus of the program is to teach congregations how to discover the actual needs of the surrounding community (as opposed to perceived needs) by asking people what they need and by doing research. Next, we'll focus on discovering the congregation's resources and abilities, and strategize the best ways to leverage them. It sounds very commonsense, but it isn't the way many church ministries originate. We may discover we're already doing what our community most needs, but find more effective ways to meet those needs. On the other hand, we may find that we're not providing much benefit to our community through current efforts and need to rethink what we do altogether. Either way, I'm all in. The elements of the class are right up my alley, and I can't wait to reimagine our service to the Round Rock area. --Janice |
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