I Found It!

So, here I am sitting by Miss Clark in the 7th grade picture that I wanted so much to use to start this blog.
Please see my first entry for details.

Miss Clark was really a "Mrs."  But, in those days female teachers could not be married.  I now understand a conversation between her and the third grade teacher.  At the time I had no idea what they were saying to each other.  It made no sense at all to a 7th grader.  I do hope her husband returned from the war (WWII) and she had a long and happy life.

My Mother

Whenever problems arose in my life, I always sought my mother for her comfort and her sage advice. I always received both.

I was young, a new supervisor and I was involved in a difficult situation with a subordinate at my work. I was facing a confrontation that frankly frightened me to death.

My mother said to me, “The cheese does not eat the mouse.”

My heritage from my mother's side

I am a member of the National Society Daughters of the American Revolution. My patriot ancestor is Phineas Keith. His state is Massachusetts "where it all began." But he is not the first Keith to come to this country. That ancestor is Reverend James Keith who was born in Scotland, educated at the University of Aberdeen and came to Boston Massachusetts in 1661, age 18. He was ordained a minister of the Episcopal Church and organized the first church in Bridgewater, Massachusetts. As part of his settlement he was to have a house and lot of 12 acres among other settlements. But the house brings me to the content of this post.

In Bridgewater, Massachusetts, the parsonage belonging to the Reverend James Keith is still there. It is known as the oldest parsonage still in existence in the United States.



I have been there. In the fall of 1992 about twenty first cousins met there and toured the Bridgewater area. The Old Bridgewater Historical Society volunteers opened the parsonage for us. It was a thrilling time for all. We saw his spectacles lying on a desk. That was so wonderful to me I can't remember another specific item. And because of the age of the building, we were allowed upstairs in small groups to view the upper floor. We walked around in the house and outside looking at each other in total understanding of the feelings we each had. It was a remarkable day.

I recommend that any descendant of the Reverend Keith plan a trip to see and walk where your ancestors lived so many years ago.

At least it is my birthday month

I have not posted in my blog for one year and 27 days. I am 76 now and life is good. I am going to post here in the future. And I am saying this "out loud" because it is a commitment. Having said that, I am finished with this post. See you in October.

Today I am 75

I have reached another milestone in my life. I am 75. I am contented. I am blessed. This is a very good time for the perpetual calendar to give me a National Holiday on my birthday, don't you think! Yep, every six and eleven years I believe it is.

I tore around like mad in my tomboy days and loved every minute of it. Then the day of reckoning came. One month before my 17th birthday, the dread disease of polio put an end to all that. My senior year of high school was not so good. Basketball was out. And that was devastating to me. Once I was able to return to school in November or so I think, I tried to go with my friends to things but it was difficult. No one fought with me for the front seat in any car we were able to muster up and, of course, I slowed them down. So, after a while, I didn't go.

I know that sounds sad, but it really isn't. I stayed home with my mother and we read books all winter. I would never have done this with her otherwise as you all well know. At the time I was miserable (I thought) but in retrospect it was a wonderful time in both our lives. We had a great time together. I love thinking about it.

I thought I would be in a wheel chair by the age of 40. I wasn't! At 50, I rode a bicycle from Mondamin to Missouri Valley (one fairly good leg), about 15 miles. The best part of this is, I didn't win the race, but I didn't come in last. There were two women much younger than I who came in last. And I still was not in a wheelchair.

This milestone has me a bit closer to that situation but I now have a brace that I wear that gives me security and is something I should have done earlier. I use my crutches a little bit more now but I can still get around and enjoy many things. I have put a rented scooter to good use at Walt Disney World the last two years with my family.

So, here I am, 75, and wondering if I will get to the next milestone. I think that at this stage in life it is closer, probably 80. I am ready for it! One day at a time!

"Bruce Almighty and Cruella de Vil"

I'm back. The fact that I can't locate that 7th grade class picture really holds me back. Actually, to be honest, it is also called procrastination.

This post is going to move way ahead in the life of my family. It's an amusing story about my husband, Bruce, my sister, Yvonne and my two granddaughters when they were small. I did not write this. I asked my daughter for permission to use her blog post because there is no way I could put this into better words. So, here it is:

"my mother says i must explain why my aunt is called cruella by my pops. lovely yvly is about as cruel as your little finger is fierce.

"when the girls were little, my dad would walk up to my aunt and say, "well, girls, there's cruella de vil. be careful of her. she's mean and heartless." well, of course, my children were absolutely horrified that their grandfather could be calling their "aunt bonnie" mean. krispy was outraged, smellery just sort of followed k's lead, but she was indignant too.

"as my mother tells me, and as near as we can recall, this probably went on one summer around the time when the movie was re-released....1996 or so? the girls would spend time with my parents in the summer, so this all started when "the olds" took them to church.

"my dad really likes to shock people. it's one of his favorite pastimes........shock and insult. it's called "teasing" but sometimes, people aren't so sure. he would say these horrible things to yv in front of everyone and they would all pass uneasy glances - "did he really just call her what i think he called her?" immediately, a blonde head and a brown head would fly over to their poor defenseless great-aunt and shower her with hugs and kisses and look ashamedly back at their gpa. then, after they were sure that their aunt bonnie was ok, they would run back over to the grandfather and try to talk some sense into him. "did he not have any idea who he was talking about? this is AUNT BONNIE!!! she's the nicest person in the world! we go to her house for holidays! she smiles at us and pats us on our heads and gets down on the floor to talk to us when we want to show her something so she's just as tall as we are. he must have lost his mind! we have to convince him that he is so wrong about her!"

"i believe they even tried to involve my mother. "gramma, he's MEAN to AUNT BONNIE!!!!" and the like. my mom would say, "oh honey, i know. but i think he's just teasing her." they would have none of that. what was happening here was a serious problem. people were going to have hurt feelings! they might not be friends anymore!

"this went on for just about forever in their little minds and my dad and yv would pass grins of delight over the top of the sweet baby heads who were fighting mightily for justice. the end of the game, i think, came just about the time my dad gave my aunt a cruella de vil ornament for christmas and she hung it right in the middle of her tree and the two of them laughed and laughed over it. i think krispy finally caught on and once she quit trying to defend yv's honor, smells let it go too. she was only 4 or 5ish?

"my dad still greets yv with, "well, if it isn't cruella!" or "how's cruella today!?!" now, krisp says, "oh aunt bonnie!!!" and runs to hug her. smells giggles and smiles over at yv...and my aunt? she still grins at him with a devilish little gleam in her eye every time."

I love my family.

A little about the present time, more about the past......

I have not posted for a long time. I had better get busy if I want posts in every month. We have had a long two months. My husband, Bruce, was diagnosed with prostate cancer and we were involved with radiation treatments. We have completed all that and are now awaiting the verdict once a test is made. Life sure does change in all its stages and we are amused that about all we get done nowadays is taking care of our infirmities. So much for the present.

Do any of you know how to prime a pump? I do. We did not have running water in our house when I was growing up. Yes, that means, no bathroom. We pumped the water and carried it in the house in a bucket. It was iron water so the bucket was red. It tasted wonderful when it was first pumped.

When people say "good old days" I think of that. And this. My mother took in washings and ironings. She would fill the boiler that she put on our cook stove in the blazing heat of our Iowa summers or freezing Iowa winters and bring it to a boil. Then she put in lye to remove the iron so the white clothes would stay white. Next, she transferred the water to the washing machine. The clothes would be put through the wringer to the rinse and back through the wringer before they could be hung outside to dry. It was an all day awful job. And that doesn't even cover the ironing. And I complained because my job was to bring in the cobs and coal for the cookstove. I have no idea how much she received to wash and iron for people but I bet she was fortunate to get $.50. They were the "not so good old days." By the way, cobs are the ears of corns once they had been shelled. We had a shed in the back yard that was partitioned with cobs on one side and coal on the other.

But I can think "good old days" also. This little town was safe. We played all over that town and no one was afraid that we wouldn't be home for supper because of something evil. There was little or no traffic. Cars were just beginning to be manufactured again after the war so we were safe. It was a simple beautiful time even though we had none of the conveniences to simplify the hard work to be done.

Our family consisted of my mother, my brother Bill, my sister Yvonne, my brother Keith and me. We lived in a Nebraska town where my father was a dentist. When he died she moved us back to their home town and families in Iowa. She was an educated woman but had lost her hearing. Therefore, she had to work so hard to support us.

You will learn more about her. She is my hero. I love her. I miss her.