I decided I'd better get another blog in or my mind will deteriorate from old age and I won't be able to compose anything of any value -- that is, if I ever do!
With all the excitement of the stock market plunge and the attendant inability of Congress to put together some kind of relief package, I guess my question is "Who's minding the store?" I know this is a very unusual event happening in our country, but, My Gawd, aren't there any intelligent and willing people in our whole country to try and help with the problem? I donno.
I'm sure not happy with all that is happening to our tax money (and our small Smith-Barney account) but I can't get too upset about the whole thing. The Republic has withstood some terrible things in the past, and has survived and I think we will eventually get through this mess.
One advantage that an old person like me (and Bill) is that we have lived through a depression, several wars, social revolutions like the Hippy Movement, the freeing of women from old stereotypes, the acceptance of our black society as a part of our great society, along with the gradual slippy slide downward in our moral standards. Surely, after all that time and experience, we should have some wisdom accumulated from the ride.
Problem is -- who cares?
On to more mundane things: We are so excited about getting another trip to Birmingham next week. We so enjoy being with the Elgins, especially Alex, Alaina, Olivia and Curry. The rejuvenate us with their liveliness, their enthusiasm, their love. It's really great being a grandparent!
And when we get back to Grapevine, one of my first jobs is to find us another Barney to keep us company. WE both have missed that silly little dog romping around and demanding attention. So Mary Anne will have her hands full taking me to kennels to find just the right dog for us!!!
One other thing: I have so appreciated how the SS class at our church has taken us in and become our friends. Honestly, these folks are so great that missing our friends at OKC has faded into the background. It's amazing how the tie of Christian faith binds people together so quickly and so lovingly.
We are getting a land phone on Monday so that Bill will have a quick connection to keep up with me. He has trouble handling the cell phone with its tiny details and this will make him feel more secure if he can check on me by phone whenever he wants to. And it's great fun that I can be out flitting around and not having to worry about getting home at any specific time.
JUST IN CASE YOU ALL HAVEN'T NOTICED ----- Your Mom, Grandma, (whatever) is pretty much a Free Spirit these days, and having a grand time being one. After one is 84 years old (M.C. age) why not do whatever the heck -one wants to do???
(M.C. age - Grandma's age determined by Marie/Curry calculation)
Enough! Peace and Love.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Is It Too Much To Ask?
This has been a puzzling and thought-provoking day for me. We had coffee with Mark and Kim this morning, and that was fun and pleasant, as it always is. But this afternoon, for some peculiar reason, a foolish phrase has been running through my mind. (Nothing to do with the morning coffee chatter, honestly.)
And I feel impelled to write about it; I can't get it out of my mind.
Here is the phrase, "Is it too much to ask ..........? To ask whom? Well, just to get the discussion going, put in "the Fates," "the quirky gods of the universe," "blind Chance," the One True God, or anyone or anything else that we poor human beings think is in control of human affairs.
Got that? Now, let's complete the phrase with some grand hypothetical questions. Such as, "is it too much to ask
that starving children in Africa might somehow be fed? Is it too much to ask that a friend painfully dying with terminal cancer be released from agony? Is it too much to ask that a hearbroken parent might find some kind of comfort when he/she can do nothing to stop a child from destruction?
Are these grandiose questions too heavy? Then how about some simple ones?
Is it too much to ask that a frightened child might find comfort in the arms of a sensitive parent?
Is it too much to ask that a middle-aged Mom might find assurance in her heart that all will be well with her teenager?
Is it too much to ask that an Aged Person might feel compassionate love from unexpected sources?
Is it too much to ask that Someone might find unusual kindness from just an acquaintance or friend?
If you happen to be a pessimist or a melancholy person (as I sometimes am) you would answer "Yes, it is too much to ask. Life is not going to give you reasonable answers to these questions that crowd uncomfortably in your heart.
If you are an optimist or a person of faith (as I sometimes am), you would answer, "No, it is not too much to ask," and I will patiently wait for some kind of reasonable response from somewhere in the universe that will give me hope.
Well, that's the phrase that has been bedeviling my thoughts all day. And do you want to know the cause for this quandary, this morass of twisted thinking, this philosophical mismash of nonsensical questions?
Here it is: "Is it too much to ask that an eighty-six year old woman might have a small, frisky, and hellish little dog to keep and love and fret over?"
And the answer is, "Yes, it is too much to ask."
And I am sad. And I am lonely. And I don't understand.
And I feel impelled to write about it; I can't get it out of my mind.
Here is the phrase, "Is it too much to ask ..........? To ask whom? Well, just to get the discussion going, put in "the Fates," "the quirky gods of the universe," "blind Chance," the One True God, or anyone or anything else that we poor human beings think is in control of human affairs.
Got that? Now, let's complete the phrase with some grand hypothetical questions. Such as, "is it too much to ask
that starving children in Africa might somehow be fed? Is it too much to ask that a friend painfully dying with terminal cancer be released from agony? Is it too much to ask that a hearbroken parent might find some kind of comfort when he/she can do nothing to stop a child from destruction?
Are these grandiose questions too heavy? Then how about some simple ones?
Is it too much to ask that a frightened child might find comfort in the arms of a sensitive parent?
Is it too much to ask that a middle-aged Mom might find assurance in her heart that all will be well with her teenager?
Is it too much to ask that an Aged Person might feel compassionate love from unexpected sources?
Is it too much to ask that Someone might find unusual kindness from just an acquaintance or friend?
If you happen to be a pessimist or a melancholy person (as I sometimes am) you would answer "Yes, it is too much to ask. Life is not going to give you reasonable answers to these questions that crowd uncomfortably in your heart.
If you are an optimist or a person of faith (as I sometimes am), you would answer, "No, it is not too much to ask," and I will patiently wait for some kind of reasonable response from somewhere in the universe that will give me hope.
Well, that's the phrase that has been bedeviling my thoughts all day. And do you want to know the cause for this quandary, this morass of twisted thinking, this philosophical mismash of nonsensical questions?
Here it is: "Is it too much to ask that an eighty-six year old woman might have a small, frisky, and hellish little dog to keep and love and fret over?"
And the answer is, "Yes, it is too much to ask."
And I am sad. And I am lonely. And I don't understand.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Giving Up Barney
I'm having a terrible time giving up our dog, Barney. And I thought writing about it might help, but I don't know.
Mark got a home for him this morning, very quickly, and at first I was elated because it sound like he has a great home and will be happy there, and all the problems we were having with him will be gone.
But I have spent most of the afternoon crying about what has happened. We got the little stinker when he was a puppy and i went through all that agonizing time of trying to teach him to poop and pee outside, and then trying to fit him into our routine so that he would be our pet, and during the process I fell in love with him.
And now he is gone, and I am very sad.
I know that he had to go. We couldn't handle him so that he would not bite Bill and that was too dangerous and too devastating for Bill to handle. And I was nervous as a cat, trying to intervene and keep Barney away from Bill. So I know intellectually that all that has happened was for our good and ultimately, I hope, for Barney's good. I know that, but my emotions don't seem to jibe with my intellect, and so this sadness grips me.
I will get over the loss, I guess, and life will go on. But I have a lump in my throat still, and I don't know when it will go away permanently.
I realize that Barney is just a dog, and that he will be fine with other people who will fall in love with him as I did.
But right now, there is an ache in my heart, and a loneliness for something that was and now is no more.
I have no philosophical explanation that will help, no intellectualism that will lessen the sadness, no insight that will make things better, only a dull sense of despair and unexplainable ennui.
And I am sad.
Life is what it is, and sometimes it is . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Mark got a home for him this morning, very quickly, and at first I was elated because it sound like he has a great home and will be happy there, and all the problems we were having with him will be gone.
But I have spent most of the afternoon crying about what has happened. We got the little stinker when he was a puppy and i went through all that agonizing time of trying to teach him to poop and pee outside, and then trying to fit him into our routine so that he would be our pet, and during the process I fell in love with him.
And now he is gone, and I am very sad.
I know that he had to go. We couldn't handle him so that he would not bite Bill and that was too dangerous and too devastating for Bill to handle. And I was nervous as a cat, trying to intervene and keep Barney away from Bill. So I know intellectually that all that has happened was for our good and ultimately, I hope, for Barney's good. I know that, but my emotions don't seem to jibe with my intellect, and so this sadness grips me.
I will get over the loss, I guess, and life will go on. But I have a lump in my throat still, and I don't know when it will go away permanently.
I realize that Barney is just a dog, and that he will be fine with other people who will fall in love with him as I did.
But right now, there is an ache in my heart, and a loneliness for something that was and now is no more.
I have no philosophical explanation that will help, no intellectualism that will lessen the sadness, no insight that will make things better, only a dull sense of despair and unexplainable ennui.
And I am sad.
Life is what it is, and sometimes it is . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Keeping Up Appearances
I couldn't think of a good title so I just put "Keeping Up Appearances" because it happens to be one of my favorite British TV shows which I only see occasionally because it comes on at 10:30 on Sunday nights! It is hillarious, and worth staying up to see, but sometimes I don't have the energy to keep my eyes open that late.
So what's happening and how am I keeping up appearances? Not much happening here (favorite quote from my son) but the beat goes on, and I do very ordinary things most of the time. I push myself out the door at least 4 times a week to walk, so that my old bones won't freeze up on me, and that's pretty routine.
I push Bill out the door to get coffee and a sweet roll almost daily because if I don't push he would sleep the rest of his life away. And I enjoy his company. I do all the talking and he nods occasionally to urge me on, and I rail on about whatever is in my emotional agenda to talk about on that particular day.
I've found out that when you are eighty-ish, the hot weather is just about as debilitating and dangerous as if you were in frigid Alaska with temps 50 below zero. When I get inside from doing errands in 100 degree weather, I am panting; my head is kinda dizzy; my legs feel like lead, and all my energy has run out through my toes. So I"m looking forward to the fall weather which is usually invigorating.
I'm subbing at SS at FBC these days for various people. LaRue got my name on the list, and the phone rings a lot. Today I taught the group that is designated "the ladies whose next promotion will be to heaven." They are that old!!! But they were all still alert, still willing to listen, and anxious to add their bits of wisdom to the group. It was kinda fun -- but I don't want any permanent teaching slot -- too much responsibility and hard work.
I find that I am more peaceful and content these days. Don't know exactly why. But when I start to worry about something, or someone, I just have a feeling come over me that worrying is pretty useless and that the people I worry about (my children (old as they are), my grandchildren (who are not my responsibility), and my husband (who is his own person and has to walk his own path), friends (whom I love) who need for me to listen. I usually just voice a short prayer for them, and go on my merry way.
Maybe that's a bit of wisdom I have learned as I get older, and older, and older.
Jesus taught us not to worry, and that we should take life as it comes and trust in Him for what we need. I'm beginning (at this late age) to actually attempt to do that!
Other writers have looked for answers to the questions we have about life and its meaning, and come to some conclusions which may give us some comfort. The atheist Voltaire said, through one of his characters, that the best we can do is "to plant and tend to our own gardens." Which, it seems to me is good advice.
T.S. Eliot said in "The Waste Land" that for some of us it seems like "we have measured out our lives with coffeespoons," suggesting that for the modern man his life may seem inconsequential and meaningless.
And his conclusion (my interpretation only) is a question: "Shall I at least set my lands in order?", suggesting that perhaps that is the best we as humans can do. Or as he further puts it, "These fragments I have shored against my ruins."
You knew I'd get off into literature or philosophy or something else, didn't you?? Well, I find that that happens to me when I start writng and maybe write too long!
But nobody ever died from thinking too much, did they??? I don't know.
So what's happening and how am I keeping up appearances? Not much happening here (favorite quote from my son) but the beat goes on, and I do very ordinary things most of the time. I push myself out the door at least 4 times a week to walk, so that my old bones won't freeze up on me, and that's pretty routine.
I push Bill out the door to get coffee and a sweet roll almost daily because if I don't push he would sleep the rest of his life away. And I enjoy his company. I do all the talking and he nods occasionally to urge me on, and I rail on about whatever is in my emotional agenda to talk about on that particular day.
I've found out that when you are eighty-ish, the hot weather is just about as debilitating and dangerous as if you were in frigid Alaska with temps 50 below zero. When I get inside from doing errands in 100 degree weather, I am panting; my head is kinda dizzy; my legs feel like lead, and all my energy has run out through my toes. So I"m looking forward to the fall weather which is usually invigorating.
I'm subbing at SS at FBC these days for various people. LaRue got my name on the list, and the phone rings a lot. Today I taught the group that is designated "the ladies whose next promotion will be to heaven." They are that old!!! But they were all still alert, still willing to listen, and anxious to add their bits of wisdom to the group. It was kinda fun -- but I don't want any permanent teaching slot -- too much responsibility and hard work.
I find that I am more peaceful and content these days. Don't know exactly why. But when I start to worry about something, or someone, I just have a feeling come over me that worrying is pretty useless and that the people I worry about (my children (old as they are), my grandchildren (who are not my responsibility), and my husband (who is his own person and has to walk his own path), friends (whom I love) who need for me to listen. I usually just voice a short prayer for them, and go on my merry way.
Maybe that's a bit of wisdom I have learned as I get older, and older, and older.
Jesus taught us not to worry, and that we should take life as it comes and trust in Him for what we need. I'm beginning (at this late age) to actually attempt to do that!
Other writers have looked for answers to the questions we have about life and its meaning, and come to some conclusions which may give us some comfort. The atheist Voltaire said, through one of his characters, that the best we can do is "to plant and tend to our own gardens." Which, it seems to me is good advice.
T.S. Eliot said in "The Waste Land" that for some of us it seems like "we have measured out our lives with coffeespoons," suggesting that for the modern man his life may seem inconsequential and meaningless.
And his conclusion (my interpretation only) is a question: "Shall I at least set my lands in order?", suggesting that perhaps that is the best we as humans can do. Or as he further puts it, "These fragments I have shored against my ruins."
You knew I'd get off into literature or philosophy or something else, didn't you?? Well, I find that that happens to me when I start writng and maybe write too long!
But nobody ever died from thinking too much, did they??? I don't know.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
scattered thoughts
I don't feel like writing a coherent , or time oriented blog today, but I will try to write out some scattered thoughts.
Scattered Thought No. 1 - Yesterday I bought a new TENNIS RACQUET ---for me. It's the newest one on the market and is really slick looking. Got it from my former tennis teacher for 50 bucks (he said it sold for 150.00).
Now the weird part, as most of you know, is that I haven't played tennis, or even been on a tennis court for 2 years!! So why do I need a NEW tennis racquet?
Best reply to that WHY is to consider another question.
Which is "AND "WHY haven't I been on a tennis court?"
Because I had reasoned with myself, an (84, 85,or 86 year old -(take your pick) old lady, that I shouldn't be so foolish as to keep testing fate by running across the tennis court and maybe falling down!!
Well, pooh to that. I took said tennis racquet and hit some balls with Mary Anne and Ben yesterday and it was fun. Of course, I'm rusty as a nail, have forgot all the good instructions I've had, and just slammed the ball around the court like a rank beginner.
There is a moral to this chatter. For one thing, don't put stupid restrictions on yourself as to what you can or cannot do ---- simply because of your age. I actually hit a few good balls back to Mary, I didn't fall down, and I was able to walk to the car and get home without collapsing! SO -- I did something I didn't think I could (or should), and I had fun.
Second point. I MISSED PLAYING tennis for two years. What a waste! I got two years older anyhow, maybe a tick more senile and tottery anyhow, and that "gone" time is irretrievable.
Get the message??? Don't miss out on life by being too careful!
Scattered thought No. 2. Much to the chagrin of my sinful pride and my serene confidence that I was at least fairly mature in my spiritual outlook on life, I learned, through a video Bible study by an intelligent, fiery, black young lady, that I had an aged, stereotypical, and "set in concrete" view of the Holy Spirit of God and His work in a Christian life.
I can't even summarize the new truths that have bombarded my soul after listening to this woman speak. I'm still trying to apprehend, assimilate, and appropriate new insights that came from her sermon into my thinking and living!!
It's not that I was completely wrong in my theology; it's just that I had forgot that it is impossible for one human being to completely understand God, and that I am very foolish to try to box Him into my own fragile and finite view of of Who He IS and What He Should Do, and How He Should Do It.
I got the message!
Enough of this stuff.
Bye now!
Scattered Thought No. 1 - Yesterday I bought a new TENNIS RACQUET ---for me. It's the newest one on the market and is really slick looking. Got it from my former tennis teacher for 50 bucks (he said it sold for 150.00).
Now the weird part, as most of you know, is that I haven't played tennis, or even been on a tennis court for 2 years!! So why do I need a NEW tennis racquet?
Best reply to that WHY is to consider another question.
Which is "AND "WHY haven't I been on a tennis court?"
Because I had reasoned with myself, an (84, 85,or 86 year old -(take your pick) old lady, that I shouldn't be so foolish as to keep testing fate by running across the tennis court and maybe falling down!!
Well, pooh to that. I took said tennis racquet and hit some balls with Mary Anne and Ben yesterday and it was fun. Of course, I'm rusty as a nail, have forgot all the good instructions I've had, and just slammed the ball around the court like a rank beginner.
There is a moral to this chatter. For one thing, don't put stupid restrictions on yourself as to what you can or cannot do ---- simply because of your age. I actually hit a few good balls back to Mary, I didn't fall down, and I was able to walk to the car and get home without collapsing! SO -- I did something I didn't think I could (or should), and I had fun.
Second point. I MISSED PLAYING tennis for two years. What a waste! I got two years older anyhow, maybe a tick more senile and tottery anyhow, and that "gone" time is irretrievable.
Get the message??? Don't miss out on life by being too careful!
Scattered thought No. 2. Much to the chagrin of my sinful pride and my serene confidence that I was at least fairly mature in my spiritual outlook on life, I learned, through a video Bible study by an intelligent, fiery, black young lady, that I had an aged, stereotypical, and "set in concrete" view of the Holy Spirit of God and His work in a Christian life.
I can't even summarize the new truths that have bombarded my soul after listening to this woman speak. I'm still trying to apprehend, assimilate, and appropriate new insights that came from her sermon into my thinking and living!!
It's not that I was completely wrong in my theology; it's just that I had forgot that it is impossible for one human being to completely understand God, and that I am very foolish to try to box Him into my own fragile and finite view of of Who He IS and What He Should Do, and How He Should Do It.
I got the message!
Enough of this stuff.
Bye now!
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Sunday Update
Today I went to FBC and taught the SS class for my friend, LaRue. Because these folks are really nice people and they are always well-groomed , I dolled myself up a bit with a new navy jacket, blue checked skirt, and my latest pair of new shoes (black and white sling pumps). Have to admit, I looked pretty snazzy!
But were those shoes a mistake! At first they were comfortable, but since I always teach standing up (don't know why, an old professorial habit), by the time I finished and sat down, I realized my feet were "killing" me!
I dragged myself out to the car, cautiously pulled the shoes off, confident that my feet were irreparabily demolished, and sat there in the heat for 5 minutes before the pain stopped long enough for me to drive home barefoot ! Now tell me why anyone (especially an 84 year old (MC age) woman would subject herself to such agony just to be considered "classy," "well-groomed," or whatever the hell it was that I thought I was!!!
No more! Next Sunday, I'm wearing dress pants and Nike Walking Shoes and I don't care what anyone says.
Bill didn't feel like attending SS but when I got home I pushed him out the door to go for coffee and a snax at our Southlake Hang-Out. It was packed! We managed to find a table at the back, back, part of the place and settled in with our coffee and cake and watched the rich folks come in. They look just like us -- except their clothes are obviously not from Penny's or Kohls, or even Macys. And I wonder if they have had a life as happy as mine has been.
Put a Netflix TV on to watch when we got home, and I promptly fell asleep . Since we have the new TV in the bedroom, I'm afraid a lot of that falling asleep might happen. Bill watched the flick and said it was pretty good.
This extreme heat is sure not any fun for me. I can be out in it about ten minutes and I think I"m gonna faint -- so I scurry right back into the ole air conditioned house. I can remember when I was in my sixties I played tennis out in this kind of heat with my buddy Joan Botger at our lunch hour on the campus at UCO, when the temp must have been over a hundred! But that was then and this is now!
I woke up the other morning and wrote a nostalgia blog in my mind which was really good (my judgment only) and I never got around to putting it on the computer. It is amazing how clear-cut, how vivid, how accurate my memory of things that happened 60 to 65 years ago is -- and how satisfying it is for me to live again those happy days. Never mind that I can't remember what happened last Friday, or Saturday.
Anyhow ---- I am going to blog some of those memories, just for my own pleasure. I will make the heading Memory Blog so you can just skip the whole thing if you want to. My first one will be entitled Memory Blog -My Life at the Ritz, coming up soon (in the next six months, probably.)
Mark, I started Little Brother, got bogged down in all the technology stuff, tried to read through it to get to the story, but finally gave up. It's sitting on my bookcase now. Yeah, I know, I should push on, but don't think I will.)
To Everyone: MC Age which I referred to above means Marie-Curry Age and that means that is how old I am really. Obviously both Marie Saunders and Curry Elgin could not be wrong about anything that important!
Adios!
But were those shoes a mistake! At first they were comfortable, but since I always teach standing up (don't know why, an old professorial habit), by the time I finished and sat down, I realized my feet were "killing" me!
I dragged myself out to the car, cautiously pulled the shoes off, confident that my feet were irreparabily demolished, and sat there in the heat for 5 minutes before the pain stopped long enough for me to drive home barefoot ! Now tell me why anyone (especially an 84 year old (MC age) woman would subject herself to such agony just to be considered "classy," "well-groomed," or whatever the hell it was that I thought I was!!!
No more! Next Sunday, I'm wearing dress pants and Nike Walking Shoes and I don't care what anyone says.
Bill didn't feel like attending SS but when I got home I pushed him out the door to go for coffee and a snax at our Southlake Hang-Out. It was packed! We managed to find a table at the back, back, part of the place and settled in with our coffee and cake and watched the rich folks come in. They look just like us -- except their clothes are obviously not from Penny's or Kohls, or even Macys. And I wonder if they have had a life as happy as mine has been.
Put a Netflix TV on to watch when we got home, and I promptly fell asleep . Since we have the new TV in the bedroom, I'm afraid a lot of that falling asleep might happen. Bill watched the flick and said it was pretty good.
This extreme heat is sure not any fun for me. I can be out in it about ten minutes and I think I"m gonna faint -- so I scurry right back into the ole air conditioned house. I can remember when I was in my sixties I played tennis out in this kind of heat with my buddy Joan Botger at our lunch hour on the campus at UCO, when the temp must have been over a hundred! But that was then and this is now!
I woke up the other morning and wrote a nostalgia blog in my mind which was really good (my judgment only) and I never got around to putting it on the computer. It is amazing how clear-cut, how vivid, how accurate my memory of things that happened 60 to 65 years ago is -- and how satisfying it is for me to live again those happy days. Never mind that I can't remember what happened last Friday, or Saturday.
Anyhow ---- I am going to blog some of those memories, just for my own pleasure. I will make the heading Memory Blog so you can just skip the whole thing if you want to. My first one will be entitled Memory Blog -My Life at the Ritz, coming up soon (in the next six months, probably.)
Mark, I started Little Brother, got bogged down in all the technology stuff, tried to read through it to get to the story, but finally gave up. It's sitting on my bookcase now. Yeah, I know, I should push on, but don't think I will.)
To Everyone: MC Age which I referred to above means Marie-Curry Age and that means that is how old I am really. Obviously both Marie Saunders and Curry Elgin could not be wrong about anything that important!
Adios!
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