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Weather is so important now as an indicator of climate change and for its effect on humanity’s future, but I don’t want to talk about the big picture. I’m intrigued by the way weather affects our mood and general well-being. Sunny days elevate mood, and people who live in places that are cloudy a lot have a higher incidence of depression. There’s a chemical reason for that of course, but we experience it more poetically. My mother-in-law always called my husband her “sunshine boy” because he brought brightness and joy to the household. Even though sunlight has a positive effect on mood, there’s also a way in which I enjoy a cloudy or better yet rainy day because it feels cozy and warm inside. I love to curl up to read in my favorite chair with a blanket and a cup of hot tea. Living in Oklahoma where any significant snowfall is a rare event, snow has always been exciting to me. Besides being beautiful, it’s fun to play in snow. I did that as a child and now have the occasional opportunity to do so with grandchildren. I love making snow angels and building snowmen and forts. There’s also something so enjoyable about coming in from the cold to warm up with hot chocolate. At least that’s how I remember it from my childhood. --Terese
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Growing up we really didn't have any pets. One of my brothers had a dog once, but it didn't stay long and I have no idea what happened to it. My mother was allergic to all kinds of things so that was the reason given. After I got divorced, I decided I wanted my own pet and decided to get a cat. I ended up going to the SPCA. They have all kinds of criteria for getting a pet. When I went to their place, they only had a couple of cats and no kittens. I assured them I wanted a cat. I fell in love with Daisy, that was her name already. She had been found after an ice storm with four kittens and she was only one of two cats left at the shelter. She came home with me. It was a new adventure as I had really never been around cats, but they seemed easier to care for and I was working. I had to promise the SPCA that she would be an indoor cat to keep her safe, but she escaped out the front door at the first house and scared me to death. I was sure she would be run over as I lived on a fairly busy street. She did that a couple of times and then we moved to a less busy street. Her adventures before I got her made her an indoor/outdoor cat. One time she got behind the car as I was getting ready to leave for work. I didn't know she was there. I accidentally backed over her. She took off and I had no idea if she was really hurt. She was gone and we looked and looked for her. We were so sad and upset, especially me, as I might have really wounded her. About a week later, she just re-appeared. We have no idea where she had been. She was missing a bit of fur from her tail, but otherwise, she was fine. She was certainly able to fend for herself. The nights before she died she had been very affectionate and laid on my lap, which I just loved. She still wanted to go out at night. One morning I found she had passed away. There will never be a pet as special to me as she was. She made the move to three houses and never missed a beat. I still miss her. --Carolyn Tim and I mostly had cats during the first twenty-plus years of marriage. Our first cat, Gray Kitty, was selected a few days after our wedding from a litter my good friend Renee was giving away. We had her for 18 years. Our second cat, Cassie, saw us through another 18 years. When we got our third cat, Zelda, I expected the same. Alas, she died suddenly at about 7 years of age. We'd also had a couple of dogs, adopted as adults, when our children were younger, but I didn't grow particularly close to either of them. I thought of myself as a "cat person." When Kelly left home for college and we had an empty nest, Tim decided I should have a puppy. It was a complete surprise, and I thought he'd lost his mind. Nutmeg (so named because her mother was Sugar and her aunt was Spice) was a full-blood beagle without papers. A coworker of Tim's bred beagles for hunting. Tim paid $25 for her and surprised me with this little bundle of energy on my birthday. We called her Meggie or Meg, and loved her dearly for 17 years--almost as long as a cat! Meg was true to her breed. Her two favorite things in life were food and following a scent. If she escaped from the yard (also a digger when she was young), she could follow a trail for miles before being found. But she was so sweet! She loved us almost as much as she did her dinner. I read once that beagles will eat anything that looks like food, and a lot that doesn't. So very true for Meg! When we adopted a border collie mix puppy to be company for her a couple of years later, we ruined Meg's life. The cute little furball we named Snickers was very exciting to her for a while. When Snickers grew up bigger than Meg, she became the alpha dog, and Meg lost her standing. Dogs learn their place in the pack quickly and there's nothing we can do to change it. Poor sweet Meg lived the next fifteen years of her life in Snickers' shadow. I hadn't expected to grow so attached to Meg, but she gave me a chance to practice nurturing and mothering skills that were appreciated on a different level, without all the drama of child rearing. She was always so happy to welcome us home--even if Snickers stood between us. I do miss that pure kind of love. --Janice I've always liked dogs of every sort. Big, hairy, short haired, short legs, doesn't matter. They all seem to speak my language. Hands down though, the Golden retrievers were my favorites. Lonnie brought home the first one. It was a very large, very old, dog that had gotten lost in a storm and wandered up to a co-worker's home. the fellow emailed everyone at their office; this was when Lonnie worked at MCI, about this fine old fellow that his family could not keep. They had 3 small children and could not take on anything else. Lonnie took a look at that dignified old face and couldn't let him go to the pound. Funny thing was, Lonnie wasn't really a dog person, but Nimbus (for the storm clouds) spoke to his heart. And Nimbus was a treat for us for some time. It was a little like adopting a sick old uncle, lots of vet bills along the way, but he paid us back with affection. When the time came to let him go it was really hard. Later, Cirrus (again for the clouds) came to us as a rescue. He was fully grown and had not been raised in a family, so he did not know how to play with toys or doggie things. He did love chew bones and knew how to appreciate them! He and I worked our way through Obedience Training and he passed the test to be a Therapy dog. He was the Friendly Visitor type of therapy dog. He was big enough that he could walk up to a person in a wheelchair and lay his head in their lap. He loved visiting nursing homes and being with people. Our instructor told me the needed skills for visiting could be taught to any dog, but the personality couldn't, and he had personality plus. Cirrus was my companion dog, even after Sunshine (a smaller, blond Golden) came into our home, he didn't quit following me and being in the same room with me. One of my favorite things to do with the Goldens was to take them over to the walking path by Mingo Creek and let them run. Cirrus was a dark red and Sunny was a light blond, together they were poetry in motion running in the sun. It was an undeveloped area in some ways and had lots of small wild life to chase. Once they even chased a fox! The fox ran toward the water, then turned on a dime and ran back under them and disappeared into the bushes. The dogs were really surprised by that. Another treat with these guys was to take them to McDonalds for a small ice cream cone. Cirrus would carefully lick his ice cream all the way down the cone then eat the cone. Sunshine would chomp hers down in seconds; ice cream, cone and all. I want to believe I will have Cirrus with me in Heaven. If not , I'm not going. --donna It’s amazing to look back and realize how many pets I’ve had over the years. Mostly dogs, although there were a couple of cats in the mix. I much prefer dogs because I like having someone who is ecstatic to see me when I come home. The most important pet I had was the dog I grew up with. Tag was a black cocker spaniel that we got when I was about five. He was a family pet but he bonded with me the most. Tag was playful and loving, a real joy to have around. Except for the time he managed to snatch the Thanksgiving turkey and carry it to the living room to eat! That’s one of those experiences that’s only funny in retrospect. Tag gave me unconditional love as a kid. In fact, he and my grandmother were the only ones who did so. He never got mad at me, but more importantly, he never ignored me. I was mostly ignored in my family but Tag was always happy to be with me. He slept on a rug by my bed, and as I got to my adolescent years, he became my confidant for all of my teenage angst. He always understood and never judged me. He got me through many real and imagined crises by snuggling and licking my face. Tag lived a long life and died while I was away at college. He will always have a special place in my heart. --Terese 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 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 |
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