I knew it had been awhile since I sat down to do this, but hadn't realized it had been 2 full weeks. Must say that I haven't really been in the mood this past week; dealing with Peggy's death has not been easy. I think Stan & I were both a little surprised at how hard it hit us--we really hadn't expected to be faced with it at this time even though we knew it was a possibility.

Yesterday (Sunday, May 24) after church we went to the cemeteries. First to Sumner to visit Grandma and Pop's grave, with a quick little side visit to Shelby's (in case you didn't know, she was Jackie's mom & my very good friend); from there to National Cemetery in Maple Valley for Anna May and Steve's; finally to W. Seattle for Stan's parents in Forest Lawn. Whenever we go to Forest Lawn, it seems that we always have to turn on one or 2 extra streets before we finally remember that we need to turn on Morgan. I said we're just going to have to think of Captain Morgan, so we can remember. Since neither of us drinks, it's the vicious pirate, Morgan. I wonder if anyone will visit any of them after we're gone.

When I'm in Walla Walla next weekend, I plan to go to Grandma & Grandpa Kelly's graves in the WW cemetery; haven't visited them in a long time; but I know my cousin Dorothy Ellen does. Also next time I'm in Olympia on a sunny day, will stop at Capitol Campus and go to the WWll veterans' memorial and get a picture of my Uncle Jim's "brick" & "leaf."

Speaking of Jim, my earliest memory wasn't of him as I had previously written, as the invasion of Sicily was in 1943 not 1941.

My mother almost always said Decoration Day instead of Memorial Day as  the day was originally set aside to honor veterans, especially those who had died to protect our freedoms and people decorated their graves. As with many of our holidays, it has now been changed to a Monday, so people have a 3-day weekend and stores can have sales.

I don't want to get morbid, but I think it is important that the family knows how their ancestors died. I know that Great-Grandma Stobie died of heart failure as did Grandma French, 80; Grandma Jeanne, 84; and Anna May, 89. Anna May was treated for heart failure for a long time and in her final months it was discovered that she had lung cancer, which the attending physician blamed on her smoking even though it had been at least 40 years since she smoked! We believe that it was probably caused by working close to an asbestos cutting machine at the shipyards during WWll. Even at that we didn't contact the attorneys that advertise on tv to get settlements for those who suffer and/or die from mesothelioma--over 90% of those folks are at least 80 & have lived a longer life than would have been predicted at their births. 

Pop was 76 when he died and he had a heart attack which was probably related to his diabetes. My dad was 89 when he died and his body had basically worn out even though the actual cause of death was something like an esophageal tear. Shortly before he died we found that the cause of the dementia he suffered was a series of strokes in the center of his brain, so they affected his memory, but not his speech or gait.

In the fall of 1965 or 1966, Grandma French was making some blackberry jam for us; she ended up in the hospital for several days because she fainted from the heat and hit the handle of the pan as she fell. Unfortunately the hot syrup beat her to the floor and severely burned her leg and hip. 

In an earlier post, I mentioned that I had only seen Grandma French angry once, but I remember now that I did hear her when she was a little peeved on one occasion. They had moved out to the farm by Sumner after we moved to Illinois and one day replaced the roof. She got so much tar on her pants they stuck to her and she had a hard time getting them off. She got tired of us calling her "tarpants." Can't imagine why;<)

One time when we were staying with them in Montana, I remember that she wanted "chicken" for dinner, so she took her trusty 22, went a little ways from the cabin and shot a couple of grouse. That probably was not the only time she did that, but I'm sure would get a ticket in this day and age.

Seems I recall hearing a story of Dyke, Herb & Juanita's oldest child, telling during show and tell how many deer or elk his dad had shot; can't remember how many but it's a good thing his teacher knew his parents, because it was a few more than the legal limit.

Must mention how proud I am of Jessica & Philip. Jessica was all-conference runner up utility player which is especially good considering her softball team never won a single game! Her team was, however, AA Oregon State basketball champions! She was also Girl of the Year at Santiam High School. Even though Philip will be junior next September, he will be student body president! He also won an ipod for an art project.--haven't heard what his project was but I'm sure we'll find out when we go down for Jessica's baccalaureate and graduation later this week.

I don't know what time it will show a "post time" for this, but it 9:33--see it takes me a while to gather pix, thoughts, etc. 

I've been trying for days to think of something that might be of interest to write about, but keep coming up blank--maybe a little more about Pop & Grandma French.

God chose my maternal grandparents very well. I feel so blessed to have had them as my Grandma & Pop as I always knew they loved me and would love me no matter how I may have disappointed them.

(I wish I could write more about my Kelly grandparents, but I never really knew them; I think Grandpa Kelly died in 1943 and Grandma Jeanne never went to see Grandma Kelly any more than she absolutely had to and of course we didn't go if she didn't.)

Only once do I remember Grandma French getting mad. It was one of the summers that we were spending in Montana with them. Us kids just kept singing, "the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out..." until finally she had heard it enough and hollered--what a concept, Grandma hollering--at us to shut up. Words and a tone of voice that shocked all of us. Unfortunately, I don't think any of my kids or grandkids would be shocked to hear me yell to "shut up."

Anyway as I think about Pop, he's the one who passed the love of baseball down to me. He had a desire as a young man to play professional baseball, but somehow in the fight with his brother that made him decide to leave home he injured his shoulder & that was way before Tommy John surgery. I don't know who his favorite major league team was, but I remember when he would listen on the radio to either the Tacoma Tigers or the Seattle Rainiers. When the game was going well, he listened, but if things would get a little tense, he would turn the radio off but he couldn't stand not knowing what was happening, so he would turn it back on in about 10 seconds. 

I was the same way in 1956 when listening to the perfect game that Don Larsen pitched for the New York Yankees (who I HATED) against the Brooklyn Dodgers (who I LOVED). I was stuffing envelopes at work and had a radio on my desk. It's a wonder I didn't wear the on/off switch out that day as I turned it on-off-on-off-on-off for practically every pitch in the 8th & 9th innings. Of course, I wanted the Dodgers to win, but I also wanted to hear a perfect game--what a predicament for a 17-year-old baseball lover to be in! Well, obviously I survived and I didn't have to replace my radio.

I spent last Saturday at the Farmers' Market in Puyallup raising awareness of Relay for Life; talked to a few people who are interested in joining a team or starting their own. Also heard a couple of heart-breaking stories. All in all, it was a wonderful day at the market--sunny, a bit breezy at times and time spent w/friends while talking to strangers as well. I told someone today that I would almost sell one of my grandchildren if it would buy a cure for cancer. Suppose the parents of whichever one I chose would disown me in the process, so it's a good thing there's no chance of that happening!! Besides that, I love my grandchildren and couldn't imagine being without one of them forever! 

It is that time of year, however, when Relay is my true passion! This is the 25th anniversary of Relay; our church has been involved for 18 years and I started participating in 2000. For the first few years I raised a little bit of money & walked some of it, then as I got more involved and realized how much RFL does for cancer patients, it has become more and more important to me. So far RFL is in 20 countries all over the world, has raised over 3 Billion dollars, 83% of which goes directly to research.

 Speaking of grandchildren, it's almost impossible to believe that Brendin is old enough to be graduated from college and Jessica from high school, but we know it's true. Guess that's where I'll end for today. Sorry I couldn't quickly come up with a pic of Jess when she was little, so here's one from her sr. year. The one of Brendin is when he had to have the brace during the process of getting his hip straightened out so he could walk and run without pain--what a brave boy he was!!

Warned you at the beginning that I couldn't think of much to say & it's sure a "hodgepodge" of ideas. 

Funny words

I will try to remember to use the following names for people to try to keep from confusing whoever might be reading this.

I think I always refer to Grandma Stobie as that or Grandma S.

Granddad is always Granddad Stobie; can't think of anyone else I ever called that & my mother always refered to him as Granddad.

I will try to remember to use Grandma French or Grandma F when refering to my mother's mother and her dad was always Pop.

My dad's mother is Grandma Kelly or Grandma K. and his dad is Grandpa Kelly or K.

My dad is almost always Daddy--don't think I ever called him anything else, although we did call my mother "Jeanne" until I was in the 5th grade & asked if she would care if I started calling her "Mother."

I'll try to remember to call my mother Grandma Jeanne or Grandma J. She hated being called Grandma Kelly since she never got along with her mother-in-law.

Okay, there is my cast of characters who need to be identified. If I mention anyone else that I think you may not know, I'll try to remember to give a clue. 

For the past couple of days I've been thinking about some of the words that my kids and grandkids used when they were little. I know I've forgotten some and if I don't mention a favorite, I apologize.

But first, I'll mention a story I remember hearing my mother tell many times. Her brother, Jim, went to the store one time and wanted a balloon, but had a hard time letting the clerk know his wishes. She tried to sell him a broom, but he didn't want a "boom" he wanted a "boom." Each time he would try to make himself clear, his "boom" became louder and it took several "booms" before she understood that he wanted a "boom" not a "boom."

I don't know who started it, but when the boys were young, Vic was 9 or 10, they used "ayp" for the past tense of any verb with the "eep" sound. They "slayp" in bed, "swayp" the floor and "kayp" their "treasures" in safe places. 

Kelli never liked peanut butter & jam sandwiches when she was little--don't know if she does now or not--but she would occasionally have just a peanut butter sandwich, and I'm not sure how to spell this, but she called it something like "pinnip'ala." She pronounced the short "a" as one would pronounce a short "e." So flags became "flegs," bags were "begs" and rags were "regs." One time I was trying to get her to pronounce all of her "eg" words, but couldn't get her to say, "rags." Finally I asked her what you call towels when they're worn out and she said "washcloths." We still eat "hangerbers" because of Kelli.

My cousin Bud, who was my dad's oldest brother Beryl's son, is the reason I have eaten "bisgetti" all my life.

Timothy had a hard time with the letter "l." I still like "yemmon" drops and when I went to Winco earlier this evening, I told the man putting out bananas that I was glad to see that he had "yots and yots" of them!

When Brendin was just learning to talk he called Stan & me, as well as his other grandparents, something that sounded as if he was clearing his throat, "bracha." And then, of course, that too went away & we became "Grandma & Grandpa."

Blake was about 3 when he always had a joke for everyone, but when he said it, it always sounded as if the word was "djoke." I never was able to make it sound like he did, but now he says "joke" just like the rest of us.

I don't remember this, but when I was about 2, I loved to look at the Montgomery Wards catalog  with my uncle Jim. Well, I didn't exactly look at the entire catalog. As soon as he walked in the door, I would get it (even find it if he'd hidden it), climb up on his lap, open the catalog to lawnmowers and ask "whassizzit, Jim?" 

This is not about words, but I understand I loved to go behind the couch and eat cigarette butts. I don't remember that either, but I do remember eating dirt and coal. I was so disappointed when we moved out to the farm and Grandma Jeanne told me I couldn't eat those two things  any more because the chickens ran loose and I wouldn't want to eat chicken poop. I missed eating coal longer than I missed eating dirt and I'm quite sure I ate some from the bottom of the coal pile--after all a chicken couldn't have pooped there.

This is about words, but not one that any child I ever knew made up. Kelli hadn't been talking long when, like many children do, she picked up a pretty common cuss word. Whenever I heard her use it, I would always say, "did you say darnit, Kelli?" and she would always repeat "darnit." One day when she was home with her dad, she said that little word and he asked, "did you say darnit, Kelli?"

She put her hands on her hips and said, "NO, I say 'shit,' Daddy." fortunately that habit was broken before too long.

That's it for "word stories" for now, maybe I'll think of more later

From 1969 until 1984 I was a displayer for Home Interiors and Gifts. We had a meeting every Monday morning and for the first few years that Stan & I were married, he had Mondays off so he was home with Kelli. By this time all of the boys were in school. One afternoon when she was about 14 months old, I asked where Kelli was I came home. Stan was still not completely over his frustration when he told me he'd given her a spanking & put her to bed! First she had taken a box of Cheerios and spilled them all over the kitchen floor. As he was cleaning them up, she went in the bathroom and put most of her diapers in the toilet--fortunately she didn't know how to flush it. While he was cleaning that mess up, she was back out in the kitchen where she had taken out a jar of jam and proceeded to mop the floor with it! I guess that was the proverbial last straw.

She was also a horrible climber--guess it's how you look at it, she probably thought she was a good climber. The refrigerator was between the counter and the hot water tank closet. There was a cupboard above that where we "kayp" "goodies" for school lunches and had to lock because of her climbing prowess. She would get a chair, get up on the counter, from there to the top of the refrigerator and reach around the corner so that she could help herself and any of her companions to potato chips,cookies, etc. Scared me half to death more than one time to see her there, but she never fell. 

    Sorry the characters aren't shown in the order they appear, but my Uncle Jim is the top pic, then Timothy, our family-we were all so young--then Audrey & me (really young), Kelli pretending to be Tarzan, Blake and Brendin.

Also sorry about those huge spaces, but to change them I would have to take the pix all out & start over w/them--too late

This picture of This picture of Grandma and Pop (French) was taken in the 1950's and really hasn't anything to do with what I'm going to write, but I am going to talk a bit about Pop.

I looked in the mirror yesterday and thought that if Pop were here, he would say: "There was a little girl who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead, and when she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid." When I was growing up, it seemed like every time I asked him a question, he would answer with either a poem or a song. Many times that would irritate me, but I've found myself many times answering one of my kids or grandkids the very same way.

He left home when he was a teenager and I understand it was because of a terrible fight he had with one of his brothers. They never did reconcile, but after that he could not stand squabbling at all. If any of us kids got into an argument when he was at our place, he would threaten to leave. Since we all loved both of them so much, we always settled right down. To the best of my knowledge, he and Grandma French never had an argument in their long marriage. They were both pretty strong-minded so I'm sure they had their disagreements, but my mother (Grandma Jeanne) said she never heard them argue and I never did either. (We all know Grandma Jeanne never inherited that trait.)

Pop was diabetic and had to have his little toe amputated. That kept him in bed for several weeks--today I'm sure it would be day surgery. They lived with Anna May and Elsie at the time and I remember one time Grandma F. telling me how badly I had hurt his feelings because when I would go there to visit, I didn't go into their bedroom to visit him. I really felt bad about that because he was a very special and wonderful person, but I was only about 12 and had never seen anyone who had to stay in bed because of an operation, so I didn't know how to act around him. Well, I found out that you act around a sick person the same way you do around a healthy person--be yourself and let them do at least some of the talking ;)

We moved to the farm outside of Sumner when I was 5 and he told me that the front teats on a cow gave fresh milk and the back ones gave buttermilk. (I always liked homemade buttermilk but have never like the cultured stuff except to bake with.) Sure enough the first time I saw my dad milk the cow, I was very upset because he put the milk from all 4 teats in the same bucket!

This is a  picture of Uncle Bill and Aunt Alta (Pop's aunt and uncle) taken on their 50th wedding anniversary. I think they lived in the same place their entire married life and to the best of my knowledge only had one son whose name was Ancil. My mother never liked him so you will have to figure out for yourself what she called him (kinda like a small place in N. Idaho) I have a pitcher in the corner cabinet that belonged to them. I met them when Vic was a baby, Pop and Grandma came to visit us in Illinois and we drove to eastern Indiana. There were 2 or 3 men in their 70's in front of a small store in the town (I think) of Poneto. Anyway, we stopped, Pop got out of the car, walked over to the men and all of them wept openly. I truly don't know how they recognized each other after all those years, but somehow they did and were grateful for the reunion.

I sure got my comeuppance this weekend. At last week's youth auction, you may remember that one of my lemon pies raised $300. Well that sure wasn't so at the RFL auction. The auctioneer decided that there would not be any food items in the life portion of the auction--the most one of my pies brought was $25! A friend of mind donated a beautiful chocolate cake that has about $20 worth of ingredients in it and takes almost an entire day to make and it raised $30! In the live auction a pair of 18-speed mountain bikes went for $250 and a flat screen tv worth nearly $1000 sold for $450. This particular auctioneer is the only one I've ever seen that starts the prices high and then works down. He'll start something at $1000, work down to $100 and then try to get people to go back up. This is the second year we've had him and I hope we have a different one next year. I know I certainly won't be donating any pies if he's back! Another friend had 2 large oval laundry baskets, one filled with baked goods and homemade candy and the other filled with homemade pickles, jellies, etc. and the pair of them sold in silent auction for $39! She had way more than that invested! It is all for a good cause, but would be easier to donate the money!

I had my eyes examined the other day; the doctor says I need new glasses because I can't read the fine print as well as I did 3 years ago--who needs fine print if you're not reading contracts?! They also told me to get some artificial tears and use them when I sit down at the computer and again when I get up; so far I haven't remembered to buy them, but I can tell they're right about that part--my eyes start to itch and burn after I've been here awhile. sooo, that's it for now. As you can see, I still haven't figured out how to wrap the text nor figure out how to correct the line spacing around a picture, so rather than go crazy (ier) trying to figure out how to do it, I'm going to let it go...