Old times

I was over to my favorite haunt this a.m. and came across a couple posts that had me laughing and now I'm thinking bout memories.  Course, my favorite haunt used to be second favorite haunt and now that most things have been more or less fixed, specially since I quit messing bout with coding and such, I spend quite a bit of time over there.

At any rate, the first post was something bout "if a woman says "do what you want," best stand still, do not breathe, etc and I laughed.  A few memories popped right into my head, mostly of mom, an aunt or two, a few friends and neighbors,  and then popped into my head those very same ladies with "the Look."  It was the Look that popped into my head when I read the words "Just play Dead."

The second post showed an old style Jingle dress dancer.  Took away my breath just watching her.  It was great, hearing those jingles, seeing the smile on her face made me feel good, happy.  Tried to download it, instead I shared it so it'd be on my wall as I'm not friends with the original poster.

That brought back memories of my childhood, being at powwows, and learning to dance.  Going barefoot most summers, even when it rained, sometimes, or should I say, especially, after it rained.  Those times are when I mostly got the Look.  Tramping in mud was most especially frowned upon.  Never did stop me though.  What finally stopped me was the time when I stepped on a piece of glass and, well, the sight of that much blood pouring from my foot was a bit scary.

Particularly when accompanied by the shouts of my sisters and friends who were trying to quiet me so the adults wouldn't come running to find out what happened.  We had to give up when we couldn't stop the bleeding.  Had to face the Look.  Especially on five or six of those very same ladies.

Oh, I know the context of that particular meme was probably written by a man, specially after that song popularized "Deer in Headlight look" but every time I see it, I think of those ladies.

Ahh, memories.  Going to go create a few more.

My Mother, Marjorie "Marge" Holmes

Today is the first time I've posted on any of my blogs for quite some time. My mother, who's been the subject of many of my posts, started her journey to the Spirit World on 23 July 2015.  Over the winter and early spring, my mother has been the subject of much prayers and good thoughts. We laid her to rest on 28 July 2015, near her sisters who journeyed on before her.

I've been updating my blogs for a blogger type book, you know the business side of writing, when she became more fragile.  Not that she ever was the sort of woman to admit she needed help. Oh, I watched her over the past few months. Then in February, I decided to get her garden going.  That was our last project together.  There's still a few projects I'd like to finish.

One of them is repainting the house, inside.  I'd tried to have her paint the house in any color she wanted.  However, it was white and would remain white.  "You can paint it any color you want, do whatever you want.  After I'm gone." when I'd pressed her about the color.  So, I will repaint the house, her bedroom, in her favorite colors. The rest of the house will be in my favorite colors.  Seeing's how my son thinks the world of his mother and will allow me to run his house the way I see fit.  Heh heh.

She sorted through her clothes, donating many for the local Boys and Girls Club fundraiser.  Still a few clothes, jackets and other odds and ends were set aside for her grandson's fundraising efforts for his trip to France next year.  Those will be delivered, preferably, picked up.

Then, in April, after I'd been elected Secretary for the Elder's Committee, she happily started sewing again.  She dragged out her fabric, cleared the kitchen counter and set up her sewing machine.  Yesterday, I was looking for something and tried to pick up two squares I thought had fallen from the pile she'd made.  It was still in the machine, waiting for her to add another set of blocks.  It's still there.  At least til we finish clearing out the rest of her things.  Then her granddaughter has said she will finish the blankets.  These last two blankets will be kept in the family.  We will donate sewing of our own making in her memory for the Elder fundraising.

I will revise the books I wrote.  She was so proud of my writing.  She even contributed some ideas and that particular book will be dedicated to her when it is finally published. She was happy when I finally got to attend a Writer's Conference.

I have so many memories of her.  I am grateful for the years I lived with her.  At my sons insistence of course.  Together, they decided that Grandma's was where they wanted to live.  And so we have.

Marjorie Alice Holmes 1936-2015

And we're off

Well, the post is a little late. We actually left on Tuesday morning. Flew out of Mpls and arrived in Vegas in the early evening. Went on a tour of the city the next morning. Then to my surprise, I couldn't get on the internet until this evening. Not that it wasn't available. I just didn't have the cash to spare for the fee.

So far, we have been very tired at the end of the day. Our tour guides, bus drivers, travel assistants and hotel staff have been doing their best in making sure we are having fun.

Our days are scheduled right up until evening. I have had very little free time to post. Will be setting up some pictures on Monday or so. I might pick a few to post and comment on right in the blog. Most will be in an online album.

We will be getting up very early tomorrow again, and in the evening, I must get the Pick Your Own Adventure set up to be published Monday morning.

The country we have been touring is very beautiful. We are making our way around the rim of the Grand Canyon. Very tiring also, we aren't used to the altitude.

Scary reflections of a grown up teenager.

I was reading again, specifically this post by Candy Lynn Fite, a fellow Campaigner, and I was immediately reminded of the very first Stephen King novel I read - "Salem's Lot". I was at college, my first year living in an apartment, not the dorm.  I couldn't put the book down. Naturally, it was evening when I started it, close to 0300 when I finished it.

One wall of the living room was glass with a sliding door and had a balcony feel to it.  I lived on the ground floor which only spurred my imagination more. I couldn't bring myself to open the drapes, though I had to check the locks. Residents were coming in off and on because it was after closing.  The bumps, thumps and loud giggles quickly shushed as they made their way to their apartments or up the stairs were not any easier to for me to push aside as just everyday normal sounds.

My roommates were sleeping, so I had to be quiet while searching for something silver, a cross or something I could use. The closest holy object I could find was a Bible. I sat with it on my lap for a few minutes, then read a couple passages. Even though I knew my roommate was in her bed, I surreptitiously checked to see if she was still herself. I accomplished this by standing as close to her bed as I dared,  reasoning that if she was "turned" she'd have to "turn" me also.  Nothing happened.

I went to my own bed, laid down and then remembered I hadn't checked the window.  I was still clinging to the Bible and dreading having to get out of bed once again.  Particularly as that meant I'd have to put my feet on the floor near the space under the bed.  I struggled with this notion for about ten minutes. Finally, the last roommate came in and I heard her going through her nightly routine.  I hadn't known she was still out. I was a little relieved as my imagination finally settled down enough for me to drift to sleep.  I groggily put the Bible on the nightstand, and turned off the light.  I closed my eyes. A thump had me reaching for the Bible which I then put under my pillow and fell asleep with my hand on the Bible.

Ricing time. Yay.

Sunday Morning Coming Down-Johnny Cash. That just popped up on the page. So now, I'm listening to his songs. Yep, you guessed it. Memory lane. Teehee.

Watching family members switch off when we parched rice, listening to music. County music mostly, some gospel, very little rock. Having to make sure there were enough batteries until we thought to use an extension cord.

This picture is from the eighties. I'm glad the smoke moved from me. I heard the saying that smoke goes to the prettiest one. It's how we were encouraged to keep working. At this point, the rice is almost ready to take off the fire to be cooled and packed for thrashing. That's how it was-thrashing. In the old days, the rice was put in a hole in the ground lined with leather and the lightest person had to jig it. That's where the term came from. The person thrashed around to make sure the hulls were cracked. From there it was transferred to winnowing baskets made out of birchbark. Fanning was best done on windy days. Luckily, there were people in the village who made thrashing machines that halved the work for us.

Food tasted better after we were done working. Seeing people with food was the signal that we were almost done. The amount of rice harvested during the day was usually parched that day. Occasionally, it was spread out to dry when we couldn't get to it right away. There wasn't time during the season to let it sit in the bags til we were done on the lake. It had to be parched within 2-3 days. Once it's parched, it could wait days until it was thrashed.

My mom said that in the old days, they used to go get the rice even after the lake froze. I thought about walking through the snow to the rice beds. I'm glad we don't have to do that anymore. It finally dawned on me that they cleared a path and used sleds to bring it back. Duh.

Ricing starts 07 Sep 2011 from 10-4. Can only go from the Island down to Woodduck. Hope everyone's ready who's going to be ricing. I may try one or two days, if I can sweet talk my son into letting me go.

Eagles and Dragons

Dragons on Lake Superior. Now that's a sight to see. Dragon Boat Races. The very name conjures up images of dragons racing. Today's event will an exciting one to watch. My sis is planning on attending cause two of her daughters are in it. Go Nieces.

I haven't been on my second favorite haunt for some time. Not as regularly as I used to be. That's cause this month is Camp NaNoWriMo which I think most everyone who knows me knows that anything involving NaNoWriMo means writing, writing and more writing. Teehee. I check in occasionally, at least once a day, check the status of my cafe and farm, contribute where I can and get back to writing.

I've only got 19 miles left on the Nikes. Yesterday's walk was okay, in fact, it was a bit exciting. I saw an eagle while rounding the corner down by the lake. It's colors were striking against the bright blue of the sky. Then as I was entering the home stretch, I encountered a group of motorcyclists inquiring about a route. Hey, that reminded me of the old days when we had nothing better than lost tourists, motorists, whatever, to break up the monotony of our day.

A couple of the kids would be asked how to get out of the village. Inevitably, someone would send them to Big Point. Then wait in the ditch to watch as they eventually found their way out. Well, there was no TV to keep us out of mischief. Most times, we didn't get in trouble either because we rarely had witnesses to our little bit of fun. Any adults around meant, of course, that the right directions would be given.

Still, when one has a map and sees that a village is located on a peninsula, why does one need to ask how to get back the way they came? Why does one try to keep forging ahead even though they have the directions? Why doesn't one just retrace their steps back to where one knows where one is at?

Naturally, this logic didn't help when we were being interrogated about our direction giving skills. Any punishments for our lack of compassion didn't deter us in future escapades either. All this changed only when we were in our teens. Still, I think the temptation is there.

All this quickly went through my head as I watched them round the corner. I knew they'd stop and ask. One might have had suspicions. The passenger said he knew how to get to the PD. I had to explain how to get to the four corners and remind the driver that his passenger knew the route to the PD. Must have been the hint of mischief on my face.

I will be leaving shortly to join my sister as we journey to the Dragon Boat Races to watch the Dragons. Imagine that. Eagles and Dragons. Good thing I know the way.

The Road

Aaniin.  Greetings all. This morning finds me up and about quite early.  The fact that I had to work didn't have anything to do with my early rising.  I went to sleep early due to the amount of exercise I got last evening.  And the reaction from several sand fly bites.  We mowed the lawn at my brother's house.  And several feet of overgrown grass between his place and his sister's place.  The actual undertaking took about 2 hours and I decided I was coming home.  


Deeds like this are okay once in a great while.  Reminds me of the old days.  When we'd help someone with their chores so we could all do something fun together.  Well, maybe not fun by today's standards.  Oh no.  Then we'd ride bikes, walk around the village, play softball.  Didn't do any of those last night.  Came home and went to sleep.


There were some plans to go back to my dad's and move a car.  Not sure about that.  The rest can go up there.  I'm sticking close to home what with 4 hours between shifts and three shifts today.  I'm researching also.  And figured out some more of the tech stuff as you can see by the header on my blog.


That road has been a huge part of my life.  I traveled to school on it.  And no, I didn't walk to school.  I rode the bus like any other civilized child of the 60's and 70's.  And it was high school, a school which is no more.  It closed at the end of this school year.   I came home to get married.  I brought my sons home from the hospital.  I traveled back and forth for the past 15 years to and from employment.  It has seen my relatives come home for visits.  


It has changed little in the last 40 years. It has been repaved every few years.  Four houses were located along this stretch.  Those are now in the pages of history.  I think of all my relatives who traveled this road in the past.  There are a lot of memories on this road.


I'm hoping I'll be traveling on that road on my way to book signings and all the other author type stuff one has to do to sell books.  I'm hoping my relatives will continue to visit.  I know there will be lots of occasions to travel on this road-celebrations, visits with family elsewhere, homecoming.  


The road has lots of possibilities.