Saturday 9: I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942)
From the archives
1) This week's song was performed by James Cagney in the famous movie of the same name. Do you plan on going to the movies this holiday weekend?
A. No. I have been to see Wonder Woman twice at the theater, which is two times more than I normally go. I think I've hit my movie theater limit for a while.
2) Though known for his larger-than-life screen presence, Cagney was only 5'5". How tall are you?
A. 5' 1 1/2". I used to be 5' 2" but I have shrunk a bit.
3) During the Revolutionary War, General Washington celebrated the 4th of July by giving his troops a double ration of rum. Will you imbibe any spirits this holiday weekend?
A. Only if I inhale a ghost. I don't drink alcohol.
4) American history was one of Crazy Sam's best subjects in school. Science was her worst. In which class did you earn your worst grades?
A. Gym. I would have straight As and one B almost every report card.
5) The Fourth of July means we're in the middle of summer. Are you careful about applying sunscreen?
A. No, mostly because I seldom go outside.
6) Mosquito bites can be a major summer annoyance. Are you scratching any itches right now?
A. Not at the moment, thankfully. Skeeters really like me, though, when I do go outside.
7) Emergency rooms report an increase in wrist injuries in summer, with people falling off bikes and skateboards and jamming their wrists catching hard-hit softballs. Have you recently been to the ER or Urgent Care?
A. No, I have not. I did, however, fall in the bathroom earlier in the week and thought for a moment I might have broken something, but everything works and the pain has lessened so I guess it is fine.
8) New York is home to Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest every year on the 4th. Will hot dogs be consumed in your household this weekend?
A. I don't think so. The last time we had hot dogs, both of us had indigestion, so I don't buy them anymore.
9) Atlanta hosts a 10K Peachtree Road Race every 4th of July. Are you a runner?
A. If taking three fast steps counts as running, yes. Otherwise, no. Actually, I'm not even a fast walker. I lope along.
_____________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Saturday, July 01, 2017
Thursday, June 29, 2017
Thursday Thirteen - The Devil Made Me Do It
1. Never stab the Devil in the back. - Unknown
2. Fear is the dark room where the Devil develops his negatives. - Gary Busey
3. If you get down and quarrel everyday, you're saying prayers to the Devil, I say. - Bob Marley
4. Neutral men are the Devil's allies. - Edwin Hubbel Chapin
5. Ultimately a hero is a man who would argue with the gods, and so awakens devils to contest his vision. The more a man can achieve, the more he may be certain that the devil will inhabit a part of his creation. - Norman Mailer
6. Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there, and the battlefield is the heart of man. - Fyodor Dostoevsky
7. To talk to someone who does not listen is enough to tense the devil. - Pearl Bailey
8. A nickname is the heaviest stone that the devil can throw at a man. It is a bugbear to the imagination, and, though we do not believe in it, it still haunts our apprehensions. - William Hazlitt
9. It is wonderful how much time good people spend fighting the devil. If they would only expend the same amount of energy loving their fellow men, the devil would die in his own tracks of ennui. - Helen Keller
10. Calvin: Do you believe in the devil? You know, a supreme evil being dedicated to the temptation, corruption, and destruction of man? Hobbes: I'm not sure that man needs the help.
11. When the Devil quotes Scriptures, it's not, really, to deceive, but simply that the masses are so ignorant of theology that somebody has to teach them the elementary texts before he can seduce them. - Paul Goodman
12. Some days, even the Devil sits back and admires my work. - Unknown
13. We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell. - Oscar Wilde
__________
2. Fear is the dark room where the Devil develops his negatives. - Gary Busey
3. If you get down and quarrel everyday, you're saying prayers to the Devil, I say. - Bob Marley
4. Neutral men are the Devil's allies. - Edwin Hubbel Chapin
5. Ultimately a hero is a man who would argue with the gods, and so awakens devils to contest his vision. The more a man can achieve, the more he may be certain that the devil will inhabit a part of his creation. - Norman Mailer
6. Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there, and the battlefield is the heart of man. - Fyodor Dostoevsky
7. To talk to someone who does not listen is enough to tense the devil. - Pearl Bailey
8. A nickname is the heaviest stone that the devil can throw at a man. It is a bugbear to the imagination, and, though we do not believe in it, it still haunts our apprehensions. - William Hazlitt
9. It is wonderful how much time good people spend fighting the devil. If they would only expend the same amount of energy loving their fellow men, the devil would die in his own tracks of ennui. - Helen Keller
10. Calvin: Do you believe in the devil? You know, a supreme evil being dedicated to the temptation, corruption, and destruction of man? Hobbes: I'm not sure that man needs the help.
11. When the Devil quotes Scriptures, it's not, really, to deceive, but simply that the masses are so ignorant of theology that somebody has to teach them the elementary texts before he can seduce them. - Paul Goodman
12. Some days, even the Devil sits back and admires my work. - Unknown
13. We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell. - Oscar Wilde
__________
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 506th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Labels:
Thursday Thirteen
Wednesday, June 28, 2017
Remembering Grandma
Ten years ago today, my grandmother passed away.
She was my mother's mother. Here is a picture of my grandmother with her daughter as an infant:
My mother, the eldest of six children, passed away in 2000, seven years before my grandmother died at the age of 84. I know that was a great loss to her. Losing a child would be among the hardest things a parent would have to endure.
My grandmother was a homemaker. My grandfather, who died in 1976, worked at the Kroger warehouse in Salem. He had a strange shift; he went in very early and was always home by 4:15 p.m. That was also when he wanted to eat, so I remember many early dinners at my grandmother's house.
She kept me and my brother when we were young. My mother's office was only a block from my grandparents' house, so she could drop us off and pick us up without problem. After we started school, Grandma also kept us if we were sick, during school holidays, on the weekends, and during the summers. She did this until I was old enough to take care of my brother and myself all day.
Grandma was not overly strict. We had a few rules I can remember. Don't mess with Granddaddy's tools in the basement. Don't go near the river (she lived on the Roanoke River, in the area that is now a greenway, though her old home is one of the few that still stands along East Riverside Drive). Don't ride your bicycle in the middle of the street. Things like that.
She would rock you and sing A Bicycle Built for Two if you skinned your knee. She made chocolate pudding in the summer for special treats. Occasionally, if we were very good, we'd get a Granddaddy cookie (an Oatmeal Crème Little Debbie Cookie). (My grandfather carried them in his lunch.) She read to us, too, even though she never finished school. I remember one of her proudest possessions was a set of World Book Encyclopedias. I loved to sit and look at them, though I always had to do it with clean hands.
My grandmother's family is from Salem, while my grandfather's family hails from where I now live. My grandmother grew up on Front Street in this house:
My grandmother grew up in the house on the right; in her later years, she lived with my aunt in the house on the left.** |
After my grandparents married, they lived on Front Street, too, but above a general store. My mother was born in this store.
My grandparents lived in the apartment above. My mother was born there.** |
Grandma loved to quilt. She gave me a beautiful maple leaf quilt for a wedding present. I have it safely stored away.
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My mother, my grandmother, and my aunt at my wedding in 1983. |
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Me and my grandmother at my wedding. |
One of my best memories of my grandmother was when I was going to the prom (with a guy not my husband), and I made him drive all the way to Salem so I could show my grandmother my prom dress. She cried.
In 1985, we had a big flood and the Roanoke River, for about the 4th time, invaded my grandmother's house. She lost everything in the basement again. Fortunately the river never got into the main part of the house, but it sure made a mess of the basement. Grandma was rather depressed after that. She didn't have my grandfather to help her clean up, so my husband and I, along with many other family members, volunteered to help haul away the smelly mess. At Christmas, when she refused to put up a tree, I resolutely went to the store and bought a small one and put it on a table for her. I don't know that it helped, but Christmas at Grandma's had always been special. I wasn't about to let that tradition go away. I did my best to buoy her spirits.
Not long after that, my aunt returned to the area and she built a house next to where my grandmother grew up. She moved my grandmother in there to live with her and my young cousin.
My grandmother fell in the late 1990s and broke her shoulder. After that, she became somewhat timid, and she moved to Georgia to stay with my aunt after my mother passed away. She came back here because she wanted to die "at home," which was in Salem. She stayed at an assisted living facility for several years before she passed away.
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My grandmother in her older years.* |
Most of all, she loved us, all of us, no matter what we did.
*I just today learned that my grandmother's middle name prior to marriage, when her last name became her middle name as it is traditionally done here, was Odell. I found it on Ancestry. Her nickname was Rosie, and that was what most people called her.
** The photos of the houses came from Google Earth, so they are current pictures. Or as current as Google Earth is, anyway.
Labels:
Family
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
Poor Baby Bird
I came home the other day and spied a black lump on the patio.
It was a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. The nest, alas, is in my gas BBQ grill.
I took a wide piece of mulch and coaxed the baby bird up on the stick, then, stooping over in a very uncomfortable position, I carried it back to the grill. I even opened the grill, expecting a bird to fly out at me, but the nest was not accessible from there.
I left the little baby as close to the grill as I could. I know next to nothing about song birds and I have no idea if they can somehow lure babies back to nests once they fall out. In my head, I had visions of the parent bird somehow placing the baby on its back and flying it home.
One of the parents showed up after I was inside, and while I ate lunch, I listened to it sing and cry and coax its little one to fly home. The little one attempted to comply, and I could see it lifting its tiny wings and occasionally moving around.
The song bird's trill was excited and anxious, and finally I went into the front of the house where I could not hear it.
When I returned a little later, all was quiet. I could not see the baby bird. I went outside and found that it had somehow flopped itself off the patio and landed upside down. Apparently unable to right itself, it died.
I was sad. The world can always use another songbird.
No sound came from the grill, and I came in and researched the bird to see how many eggs the female would have laid. Apparently, wrens lay about 5-6 eggs. But I'd heard no chirping.
Later, though, I saw the parent bird fly back to the nest with a worm. I opened the back door a crack and I could hear the faintest of little chirps. I felt better knowing the birds had not lost their only little one.
In the meantime, I do not have a BBQ grill to use, but we don't use it that often anyway. This one is 20 years old and I have told my husband that when the birds are through with it, I would prefer he take it to the dump rather than try to clean it out. I am not keen to eat burgers or steak on it after it has been infested with birds and lice and whatever else they may bring with them. The grill is quite old and it looks junky so I don't mind if it goes away.
Nature is cruel because it has no choice. Baby birds die because they fall from nests. That's the way it is.
People have a choice, though. They are not birds. They can pick up a human baby if it falls. Instead, people are just cruel because they want to be.
Human babies die because we choose to withhold care via lack of funding or services. Last year, six out of every 1,000 children under the age of one died in the United States. [CIA World Factbook]
They didn't fall out of a nest. They just didn't receive the care they should have.
Bosnia, Guam, Poland, New Zealand, the European Union, Germany, Ireland, Iceland, and Japan, among others, have a lower infant mortality rate than the United States. In fact, 56 countries have lower infant mortality rates than the United States. Monoco, with less than 2 deaths per 1,000 infants under the age of one, has the lowest infant mortality rate in the world.
And we think we have good health care? Just wait until the vile old white guys in the government finish with it, and you'll see how bad it can be.
How many babies will fall out of the nest then?
How many mothers will sing sad, sorrowful songs?
How many of those songs could be prevented, if we only cared about one another, and not about the dollars in our pocket?
It was a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. The nest, alas, is in my gas BBQ grill.
Incredibly ugly baby bird that pulled at my heart strings anyway. |
The bird nest is in the bottom, not in the jar hanging down, but up in the grill itself, in the burner part. |
This is one of the baby bird's parents. I think it's a Carolina Wren. |
I took a wide piece of mulch and coaxed the baby bird up on the stick, then, stooping over in a very uncomfortable position, I carried it back to the grill. I even opened the grill, expecting a bird to fly out at me, but the nest was not accessible from there.
I left the little baby as close to the grill as I could. I know next to nothing about song birds and I have no idea if they can somehow lure babies back to nests once they fall out. In my head, I had visions of the parent bird somehow placing the baby on its back and flying it home.
One of the parents showed up after I was inside, and while I ate lunch, I listened to it sing and cry and coax its little one to fly home. The little one attempted to comply, and I could see it lifting its tiny wings and occasionally moving around.
The song bird's trill was excited and anxious, and finally I went into the front of the house where I could not hear it.
When I returned a little later, all was quiet. I could not see the baby bird. I went outside and found that it had somehow flopped itself off the patio and landed upside down. Apparently unable to right itself, it died.
I was sad. The world can always use another songbird.
No sound came from the grill, and I came in and researched the bird to see how many eggs the female would have laid. Apparently, wrens lay about 5-6 eggs. But I'd heard no chirping.
Later, though, I saw the parent bird fly back to the nest with a worm. I opened the back door a crack and I could hear the faintest of little chirps. I felt better knowing the birds had not lost their only little one.
In the meantime, I do not have a BBQ grill to use, but we don't use it that often anyway. This one is 20 years old and I have told my husband that when the birds are through with it, I would prefer he take it to the dump rather than try to clean it out. I am not keen to eat burgers or steak on it after it has been infested with birds and lice and whatever else they may bring with them. The grill is quite old and it looks junky so I don't mind if it goes away.
Nature is cruel because it has no choice. Baby birds die because they fall from nests. That's the way it is.
People have a choice, though. They are not birds. They can pick up a human baby if it falls. Instead, people are just cruel because they want to be.
Human babies die because we choose to withhold care via lack of funding or services. Last year, six out of every 1,000 children under the age of one died in the United States. [CIA World Factbook]
They didn't fall out of a nest. They just didn't receive the care they should have.
Bosnia, Guam, Poland, New Zealand, the European Union, Germany, Ireland, Iceland, and Japan, among others, have a lower infant mortality rate than the United States. In fact, 56 countries have lower infant mortality rates than the United States. Monoco, with less than 2 deaths per 1,000 infants under the age of one, has the lowest infant mortality rate in the world.
And we think we have good health care? Just wait until the vile old white guys in the government finish with it, and you'll see how bad it can be.
How many babies will fall out of the nest then?
How many mothers will sing sad, sorrowful songs?
How many of those songs could be prevented, if we only cared about one another, and not about the dollars in our pocket?
Monday, June 26, 2017
Darling, You Are Growing Old
My mother used to sing a line to me at every birthday: Darling, you are growing old. I don't know if was from a song, or simply something she liked to sing, but nearly every year, especially after I married, she would croon that.
And here I am, old. Well, aging, anyway. I'm still in my birthday month. Still celebrating having made it yet another year.
However, this year so far, two of my high school classmates have passed away (class of 1981). They were, of course, my age. Early 50s.
I am not sure how many of my classmates have gone to the great beyond. I believe there were eight that we were aware of when we had our 30th reunion in 2011, which was six years ago. Now I know of 10. I suspect there are more. We were a class of 212 (I think), so about 5 percent of us - maybe even 10 percent or more, since I haven't kept up with most people - have passed on.
We were a generation that grew up eating bologna, TV dinners, and candy bars. We drank Dr. Pepper and scarfed up cookies. Our moms worked, mostly, and if meals were anything like at my house, they were whatever a poor pooped woman could manage at 6 p.m. Frequently, that was Kraft Mac & Cheese or whatever else she could rustle up.
Food companies of course were eager to help. Who cared if the stuff was full of preservatives, sodium, fats, and who-knows-what? It shut the kids up.
Unfortunately for my mother, and for me, I never liked cooking so I wasn't much help. To this day I still don't understand appropriate nutrition and how food is fuel and what the body needs versus what the body craves. They are different things, aren't they? Craving and needing?
Nor does cooking appeal to me, even now. I don't like naked meat. I don't care to see it sitting there unclothed on my counter, with its thighs or gristle or fat waiting to make my hands slippery and yucky. I don't like flouring it only to fry it and watch the grease pop out all over the stove, making a lovely mess. I don't like trimming fat from pork or steak, nor do I know how to marinate meat so that it has a lovely taste. That I leave to restaurants.
Mostly I know how to stuff meat in the oven and let it bake until it is not red and bleeding, and then we eat it. I don't salt it, because my husband and I both have high blood pressure. Sometimes I fix pork or a chuck roast in the crock pot and I put Mrs. Dash in there.
We eat a rather bland diet, for the things I can cook are bland, and thus when the grocery aisles scream out "cookie" or "potato chip" or "something with taste, for God's sake!" then of course the hands reach out and the item finds it way into the basket.
Now, though, I think the reality of aging is finally conking me upside the head. If I don't take care of myself, I'm not going to have a long life. I'll be gone, like some of my classmates. I've already outlived a percentage of them.
I have to figure this out. I know in my head what I need to do. It's the rest of me that needs to be convinced, especially my taste buds and their unquenchable desire for things sweet and chocolatey.
Always a work in progress over something. But better to be a work in progress than a staid old statue made of clay.
And here I am, old. Well, aging, anyway. I'm still in my birthday month. Still celebrating having made it yet another year.
However, this year so far, two of my high school classmates have passed away (class of 1981). They were, of course, my age. Early 50s.
I am not sure how many of my classmates have gone to the great beyond. I believe there were eight that we were aware of when we had our 30th reunion in 2011, which was six years ago. Now I know of 10. I suspect there are more. We were a class of 212 (I think), so about 5 percent of us - maybe even 10 percent or more, since I haven't kept up with most people - have passed on.
We were a generation that grew up eating bologna, TV dinners, and candy bars. We drank Dr. Pepper and scarfed up cookies. Our moms worked, mostly, and if meals were anything like at my house, they were whatever a poor pooped woman could manage at 6 p.m. Frequently, that was Kraft Mac & Cheese or whatever else she could rustle up.
Food companies of course were eager to help. Who cared if the stuff was full of preservatives, sodium, fats, and who-knows-what? It shut the kids up.
Unfortunately for my mother, and for me, I never liked cooking so I wasn't much help. To this day I still don't understand appropriate nutrition and how food is fuel and what the body needs versus what the body craves. They are different things, aren't they? Craving and needing?
Nor does cooking appeal to me, even now. I don't like naked meat. I don't care to see it sitting there unclothed on my counter, with its thighs or gristle or fat waiting to make my hands slippery and yucky. I don't like flouring it only to fry it and watch the grease pop out all over the stove, making a lovely mess. I don't like trimming fat from pork or steak, nor do I know how to marinate meat so that it has a lovely taste. That I leave to restaurants.
Mostly I know how to stuff meat in the oven and let it bake until it is not red and bleeding, and then we eat it. I don't salt it, because my husband and I both have high blood pressure. Sometimes I fix pork or a chuck roast in the crock pot and I put Mrs. Dash in there.
We eat a rather bland diet, for the things I can cook are bland, and thus when the grocery aisles scream out "cookie" or "potato chip" or "something with taste, for God's sake!" then of course the hands reach out and the item finds it way into the basket.
Now, though, I think the reality of aging is finally conking me upside the head. If I don't take care of myself, I'm not going to have a long life. I'll be gone, like some of my classmates. I've already outlived a percentage of them.
I have to figure this out. I know in my head what I need to do. It's the rest of me that needs to be convinced, especially my taste buds and their unquenchable desire for things sweet and chocolatey.
Always a work in progress over something. But better to be a work in progress than a staid old statue made of clay.
Sunday, June 25, 2017
Sunday Steaing: Greenish Q&A
Sunday Stealing: The Greenish Questions
1. What is your current obsession?
A. I am playing a city-building game called Elvenor. You have to gather supplies and ensure you have enough population, trade for provinces, and join a fellowship. I usually don't play multiplayer online games because I don't care for the interaction with real people, especially in those RPGs that can get very fierce and have lots of fighting, cursing, and under-developed little boys of all ages. But this a mild, gentile game and the only competition is to see who can build the fastest, and the only reason to mix with the other folk is to ask if anybody has steel to trade for your silk or whatever.
2. What’s your go-to coffee place?
A. I don't drink coffee. I used to have a tea hang-out but it moved about 30 minutes away so I don't go there any more.
3. Who was the last person that you hugged?
A. My husband.
4. Do you nap a lot?
A. I seldom nap. My husband, however, says taking naps makes you live longer.
5. Tonight, what’s for dinner?
A. Either soup, a baked potato, or leftover chicken, unless my husband decides to take me out.
6. What was the last thing that you bought?
A. I bought a gallon beverage dispenser at the supermarket on Friday. My doctor told me my blood tests indicated I am not drinking enough water (something to do with my kidneys, which I need to discuss with her in more depth because that came from a nurse's call and I haven't seen the lab work), so I thought if I filled this dispenser every day with water and drank it, I could keep track of what I am drinking.
7. What is your favorite weather?
A. A nice, party-cloudy to sunny day, temperatures about 70 degrees, with a light breeze. That would be a perfect day for just about anything. However, I am also very intrigued by storms.
8. Tell us something about one blogger who you think will play this week?
A. Harriet has lots of dogs and a sore knee. Stacy has a grandbaby and last week her daughter was sick. The Gal's best friend is named John and she loves the Cubs. Zippi is trying to get back into her crafts after the loss a loved one. Bud is going to write a book and stop being the caretaker of Sunday Stealing. SmellyAnne recently changed addresses and is now in Boise, making her a Boiseitte (?), at least, according to Sheldon on the Big Bang Theory. Bev posts pretty pictures on Sat. 9. Kwizgiver is a teacher who reads a lot.
9. If you were given a free house that was full furnished, where in the world would you like it to be?
A. Somewhere where it is warm in the winter time. If you throw in a jet and a pilot, I'll take New Zealand, because I could go there in the winter and come back to Virginia in the summer.
10. Name three things that you could not live without.
A. My heart, my head, and my stomach. If you mean outside of my body, then food, water, and shelter. If you mean the trivial things of life, then my computer, a telephone, and a car.
11. What would you like in your hands right now?
A. That's a loaded question if I ever saw one. But I will go with a piece of watermelon.
12. What’s one of your guilty pleasures?
A. Eating chocolate, followed by playing video games.
13. What would you change or eliminate about yourself?
A. I would lose weight and feel the fear and do it anyway.
14. As a child, what type of career did you want?
A. I bounced around from writer (always) to geologist, archeologist, librarian, historian, and teacher. In some ways, being a news reporter allowed me to do all of that as I have written articles on rocks (we have karst topography here which causes sinkholes and creates issues for development), historical digs (archeology) and historical facts (historian), and I considered my writing a form of teaching, plus I spent time substituting at the local public schools and taught for a year at the community college before my gallbladder went splat. So I have managed to wrap it all up into one big blanket and throw it around myself.
15. What are you missing right now?
A. A clean office. Mine is a wreck.
16. What are you currently reading?
A. I just finished reading Truevine by Beth Macy, a nonfiction book about two young men from my area who were taken into the circus prior to the 20th century, and I also just finished listening to Sex, Lies, and Serious Money, by Stuart Woods on audio. I am also reading on my Kindle a book called The Mutual Admiration Society by Lesley Kagen. And then there are newspapers and magazines that I read all the time, like The New York Times, The Roanoke Times, The Atlantic, Vox, Salon, the Washington Post, etc. etc.
17. What do you fear the most?
A. Being old, alone and penniless while living under the overpass at the interstate, eating out of dumpster at Pizza Hut.
18. What’s the best movie that you’ve seen recently?
A. Wonder Woman. I saw it twice at the theater, which is nearly unheard of for me to do, and I'd go see it again and I plan to own the DVD. It is a great movie, a little campy, and it has the best message at the end.
19. What’s your favorite book from the past year?
A. Let me check my list. I reread three of the Harry Potter books, so they would probably be my top favorites, but I also enjoyed The Nightingale, by Kristin Hannah. Among others.
20. Is there a comfort food from your childhood that you still enjoy?
A. I still buy Smarties on occasion, just for me. We (meaning me, my brother, and my two youngest uncles, one who is a year younger than I am and the other three years older) used to eat them as "super pills" when we were children - they would give you special powers when we were playing. We did the same thing with different colors in M&Ms.
__________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
1. What is your current obsession?
A. I am playing a city-building game called Elvenor. You have to gather supplies and ensure you have enough population, trade for provinces, and join a fellowship. I usually don't play multiplayer online games because I don't care for the interaction with real people, especially in those RPGs that can get very fierce and have lots of fighting, cursing, and under-developed little boys of all ages. But this a mild, gentile game and the only competition is to see who can build the fastest, and the only reason to mix with the other folk is to ask if anybody has steel to trade for your silk or whatever.
2. What’s your go-to coffee place?
A. I don't drink coffee. I used to have a tea hang-out but it moved about 30 minutes away so I don't go there any more.
3. Who was the last person that you hugged?
A. My husband.
4. Do you nap a lot?
A. I seldom nap. My husband, however, says taking naps makes you live longer.
5. Tonight, what’s for dinner?
A. Either soup, a baked potato, or leftover chicken, unless my husband decides to take me out.
6. What was the last thing that you bought?
A. I bought a gallon beverage dispenser at the supermarket on Friday. My doctor told me my blood tests indicated I am not drinking enough water (something to do with my kidneys, which I need to discuss with her in more depth because that came from a nurse's call and I haven't seen the lab work), so I thought if I filled this dispenser every day with water and drank it, I could keep track of what I am drinking.
7. What is your favorite weather?
A. A nice, party-cloudy to sunny day, temperatures about 70 degrees, with a light breeze. That would be a perfect day for just about anything. However, I am also very intrigued by storms.
8. Tell us something about one blogger who you think will play this week?
A. Harriet has lots of dogs and a sore knee. Stacy has a grandbaby and last week her daughter was sick. The Gal's best friend is named John and she loves the Cubs. Zippi is trying to get back into her crafts after the loss a loved one. Bud is going to write a book and stop being the caretaker of Sunday Stealing. SmellyAnne recently changed addresses and is now in Boise, making her a Boiseitte (?), at least, according to Sheldon on the Big Bang Theory. Bev posts pretty pictures on Sat. 9. Kwizgiver is a teacher who reads a lot.
9. If you were given a free house that was full furnished, where in the world would you like it to be?
A. Somewhere where it is warm in the winter time. If you throw in a jet and a pilot, I'll take New Zealand, because I could go there in the winter and come back to Virginia in the summer.
10. Name three things that you could not live without.
A. My heart, my head, and my stomach. If you mean outside of my body, then food, water, and shelter. If you mean the trivial things of life, then my computer, a telephone, and a car.
11. What would you like in your hands right now?
A. That's a loaded question if I ever saw one. But I will go with a piece of watermelon.
12. What’s one of your guilty pleasures?
A. Eating chocolate, followed by playing video games.
13. What would you change or eliminate about yourself?
A. I would lose weight and feel the fear and do it anyway.
14. As a child, what type of career did you want?
A. I bounced around from writer (always) to geologist, archeologist, librarian, historian, and teacher. In some ways, being a news reporter allowed me to do all of that as I have written articles on rocks (we have karst topography here which causes sinkholes and creates issues for development), historical digs (archeology) and historical facts (historian), and I considered my writing a form of teaching, plus I spent time substituting at the local public schools and taught for a year at the community college before my gallbladder went splat. So I have managed to wrap it all up into one big blanket and throw it around myself.
15. What are you missing right now?
A. A clean office. Mine is a wreck.
16. What are you currently reading?
A. I just finished reading Truevine by Beth Macy, a nonfiction book about two young men from my area who were taken into the circus prior to the 20th century, and I also just finished listening to Sex, Lies, and Serious Money, by Stuart Woods on audio. I am also reading on my Kindle a book called The Mutual Admiration Society by Lesley Kagen. And then there are newspapers and magazines that I read all the time, like The New York Times, The Roanoke Times, The Atlantic, Vox, Salon, the Washington Post, etc. etc.
17. What do you fear the most?
A. Being old, alone and penniless while living under the overpass at the interstate, eating out of dumpster at Pizza Hut.
18. What’s the best movie that you’ve seen recently?
A. Wonder Woman. I saw it twice at the theater, which is nearly unheard of for me to do, and I'd go see it again and I plan to own the DVD. It is a great movie, a little campy, and it has the best message at the end.
19. What’s your favorite book from the past year?
A. Let me check my list. I reread three of the Harry Potter books, so they would probably be my top favorites, but I also enjoyed The Nightingale, by Kristin Hannah. Among others.
20. Is there a comfort food from your childhood that you still enjoy?
A. I still buy Smarties on occasion, just for me. We (meaning me, my brother, and my two youngest uncles, one who is a year younger than I am and the other three years older) used to eat them as "super pills" when we were children - they would give you special powers when we were playing. We did the same thing with different colors in M&Ms.
__________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
Labels:
SundayStealing
Saturday, June 24, 2017
Saturday 9: Listen to the Music
Saturday 9: Listen to the Music (1972)
Because Zippi requested it.
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here. (Love me some Doobie Brothers!)
1) The lyrics say, "What the people need is a way to make them smile." What song lifts your spirits and makes you smile every time you hear it?
A. I haven't heard this song in many years, but I thought I'd try for something original. So here you go, Ray Stevens doing The Streak.
2) Lead vocalist/composer Tom Johnston reports that he's made a lot in royalties because so many radio stations use this as a jingle. Tell us a jingle that sticks in your head.
A. This is a local commercial from my childhood that for some reason I've never forgotten: Evan's Drugstore! Evan's Drugstore! Good prescription service. Intersection of Airport and Williamson Road. Delivery in the city, and in the county too! For drugs, cosmetics, school supplies, it's Evan's Drug Store.
There's also this one:
Hooray for Valley Dale! Hooray for Valley Dale! Hooray for Valley Dale all hail it's Valley Dale! Valley Dale Bacon! Valley Dale Sausage! Valley Dale Weiners! Zing Zing Zing Zing Valley Dale! (I don't have that exactly right. But you can watch it here.)
3) The Doobie Brothers got their start in San Jose, California. San Jose is the largest city in Northern California, thanks to all the tech companies that have headquarters there. Let's talk about the device you're on right now: are all your applications up to date?
A. On my personal computer, which I am using at this moment, yes, everything is up to date. I can't say the same for some of the other things I use. I mean, my laptop has Windows Vista on it. I think my Kindles (yes, in the plural) are up to date and probably the Nook, too. But not the laptop.
4) When they were still a local band, the Doobie Brothers had a strong following among bikers. Are you attracted to biker culture?
A. No, I am not.
5) This week's song is from Toulouse Street, which is considered their "breakthrough" album. Tell us about a moment in your own life that you consider a "breakthrough."
A. In October 1984, I picked up a copy of The Fincastle Herald and saw my first article in print. It was headlined "Making Shiloh Apple Butter" and I'd taken the photos and written the copy, and it wasn't edited much. I was so excited that I met my mother at the local store where she stopped every day on the way home from work to pick up bread or milk or something so I could show her the article.
After that I knew I would be writing for the rest of my life, even though my mother had told me more than once that it was a dead-end career and I'd never make a living at it. Up until two years ago, I wrote for The Fincastle Herald and other local publications for living. While it did not make me rich, it made me happy and it allowed me to contribute to the household coffers.
6) In 1987, the Doobie Brothers did a benefit performance for Vietnam Veterans at the Hollywood Bowl. Next to the Beatles, it was the fastest-selling ticket in Hollywood Bowl history. Which group do you listen to more often -- the Doobies or the Beatles?
A. I would listen more to the Doobies. I know a lot of Beatles songs but I am not a big Beatles fan (please don't throw your shoe at me, Sam.).
7) In 1972, when this song was popular, Wranglers were America's best-selling jeans. Are you brand-loyal to one jeans manufacturer?
A. Generally all of my clothes are made by Alfred Dunner. They make the only ones that seem to fit me and all of my blubber. I would buy something else if it didn't run short or long or tight in the knees/thighs/ass or whatever.
8) Grocery stores saw seafood prices fluctuate wildly in 1972 because of a series of confrontations between the United Kingdom and Iceland regarding fishing rights in the North Atlantic. (Iceland won.) What was the most recent seafood dish that you enjoyed?
A. ::sniffle:: ::sob:: I last had seafood several years ago. At that time we discovered I am allergic to, at the least, shellfish, and as a result I stopped eating seafood altogether. It made me very sick and I have been afraid to try it since. It makes me sad because I adore seafood. (I went to a local allergist and was told they don't have the wherewithal around here to actually test you for food allergies.)
9) Random question: Which of these "top ten" lists would you prefer to be on -- the sexiest, the smartest or the richest?
A. Either the smartest or the richest, I can't decide. Maybe if I were on the smartest list I would also be rich, eh?
_____________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Because Zippi requested it.
Unfamiliar with this week's tune? Hear it here. (Love me some Doobie Brothers!)
1) The lyrics say, "What the people need is a way to make them smile." What song lifts your spirits and makes you smile every time you hear it?
A. I haven't heard this song in many years, but I thought I'd try for something original. So here you go, Ray Stevens doing The Streak.
2) Lead vocalist/composer Tom Johnston reports that he's made a lot in royalties because so many radio stations use this as a jingle. Tell us a jingle that sticks in your head.
A. This is a local commercial from my childhood that for some reason I've never forgotten: Evan's Drugstore! Evan's Drugstore! Good prescription service. Intersection of Airport and Williamson Road. Delivery in the city, and in the county too! For drugs, cosmetics, school supplies, it's Evan's Drug Store.
There's also this one:
Hooray for Valley Dale! Hooray for Valley Dale! Hooray for Valley Dale all hail it's Valley Dale! Valley Dale Bacon! Valley Dale Sausage! Valley Dale Weiners! Zing Zing Zing Zing Valley Dale! (I don't have that exactly right. But you can watch it here.)
3) The Doobie Brothers got their start in San Jose, California. San Jose is the largest city in Northern California, thanks to all the tech companies that have headquarters there. Let's talk about the device you're on right now: are all your applications up to date?
A. On my personal computer, which I am using at this moment, yes, everything is up to date. I can't say the same for some of the other things I use. I mean, my laptop has Windows Vista on it. I think my Kindles (yes, in the plural) are up to date and probably the Nook, too. But not the laptop.
4) When they were still a local band, the Doobie Brothers had a strong following among bikers. Are you attracted to biker culture?
A. No, I am not.
5) This week's song is from Toulouse Street, which is considered their "breakthrough" album. Tell us about a moment in your own life that you consider a "breakthrough."
A. In October 1984, I picked up a copy of The Fincastle Herald and saw my first article in print. It was headlined "Making Shiloh Apple Butter" and I'd taken the photos and written the copy, and it wasn't edited much. I was so excited that I met my mother at the local store where she stopped every day on the way home from work to pick up bread or milk or something so I could show her the article.
After that I knew I would be writing for the rest of my life, even though my mother had told me more than once that it was a dead-end career and I'd never make a living at it. Up until two years ago, I wrote for The Fincastle Herald and other local publications for living. While it did not make me rich, it made me happy and it allowed me to contribute to the household coffers.
6) In 1987, the Doobie Brothers did a benefit performance for Vietnam Veterans at the Hollywood Bowl. Next to the Beatles, it was the fastest-selling ticket in Hollywood Bowl history. Which group do you listen to more often -- the Doobies or the Beatles?
A. I would listen more to the Doobies. I know a lot of Beatles songs but I am not a big Beatles fan (please don't throw your shoe at me, Sam.).
7) In 1972, when this song was popular, Wranglers were America's best-selling jeans. Are you brand-loyal to one jeans manufacturer?
A. Generally all of my clothes are made by Alfred Dunner. They make the only ones that seem to fit me and all of my blubber. I would buy something else if it didn't run short or long or tight in the knees/thighs/ass or whatever.
8) Grocery stores saw seafood prices fluctuate wildly in 1972 because of a series of confrontations between the United Kingdom and Iceland regarding fishing rights in the North Atlantic. (Iceland won.) What was the most recent seafood dish that you enjoyed?
A. ::sniffle:: ::sob:: I last had seafood several years ago. At that time we discovered I am allergic to, at the least, shellfish, and as a result I stopped eating seafood altogether. It made me very sick and I have been afraid to try it since. It makes me sad because I adore seafood. (I went to a local allergist and was told they don't have the wherewithal around here to actually test you for food allergies.)
9) Random question: Which of these "top ten" lists would you prefer to be on -- the sexiest, the smartest or the richest?
A. Either the smartest or the richest, I can't decide. Maybe if I were on the smartest list I would also be rich, eh?
_____________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Saturday 9 posts and leave a comment. Because there are no rules, it is your choice. Saturday 9 players hate rules. We love memes, however.
Labels:
Saturday9
Thursday, June 22, 2017
Thursday Thirteen #505
Summer without video games/apps and computers -
1. Spittin' watermelon seeds as far as you can. Especially effective if you've lost a tooth and have a hole in the front. (I suppose there is an entire generation who doesn't realize watermelons have - or once had - seeds.) Also, pulling a watermelon out of the springhouse, where it stayed cold.
2. Playing in the creek, catching crawfish and chasing minnows.
3. Riding bicycles around the block (or up and down the dirt road) or through the little "forest" of pine trees near the Forest Service office.
4. A blue snow cone from Brooks Byrd Pharmacy.
5. Helping Grandpa mow the yard for a quarter.
6. Taking the quarter to the Orange Market for a soda, a candy bar, and a comic book. (Yes, all three for twenty-five cents.)
7. Buying those put-together balsam airplanes and throwing them around the yard. The ones with the rubber band propeller never worked and they all broke within a day, but we always bought them.
8. Attaching a string to a June bug's leg and flying it around like a trained circus animal (different world in the late 1960s - early 1970s).

9. Hunting for four-leaf clovers.
10. Making a necklace out of clover flowers, or trying to make the "longest clover flower chain in the world."
11. Catching lightning bugs and putting them in a jar to light up the room at night.
12. Helping Grandma hang the laundry on the clothesline.
13. Being told every day not to stick your hand in the handmade electric black fan that had no cover guard over the front of it. (The engine was made from a refrigerator motor, I think.)
My summers, until I was about 13, were spent at my grandmother's as my mother worked. She lived in Salem, about 30 minutes away, but was within walking distance of my mother's office.
__________

2. Playing in the creek, catching crawfish and chasing minnows.
3. Riding bicycles around the block (or up and down the dirt road) or through the little "forest" of pine trees near the Forest Service office.
4. A blue snow cone from Brooks Byrd Pharmacy.
5. Helping Grandpa mow the yard for a quarter.
6. Taking the quarter to the Orange Market for a soda, a candy bar, and a comic book. (Yes, all three for twenty-five cents.)
7. Buying those put-together balsam airplanes and throwing them around the yard. The ones with the rubber band propeller never worked and they all broke within a day, but we always bought them.
8. Attaching a string to a June bug's leg and flying it around like a trained circus animal (different world in the late 1960s - early 1970s).
9. Hunting for four-leaf clovers.
10. Making a necklace out of clover flowers, or trying to make the "longest clover flower chain in the world."
11. Catching lightning bugs and putting them in a jar to light up the room at night.
12. Helping Grandma hang the laundry on the clothesline.
13. Being told every day not to stick your hand in the handmade electric black fan that had no cover guard over the front of it. (The engine was made from a refrigerator motor, I think.)
My summers, until I was about 13, were spent at my grandmother's as my mother worked. She lived in Salem, about 30 minutes away, but was within walking distance of my mother's office.
__________
Thursday Thirteen is played by lots of people; there is a list here if you want to read other Thursday Thirteens and/or play along. I've been playing for a while and this is my 505th time to do a list of 13 on a Thursday.
Labels:
Memories,
Thursday Thirteen
Tuesday, June 20, 2017
Freckles
Today my mother would be 73, had pancreatic cancer not taken her at the age of 56. I was 38 when she passed away. Fifty-six does not seem so old to me, now that it is only a few years away. In fact, it seems very young.
My mother had freckles all of her life. The few childhood photos of her I have seen show freckles that stand out even in black and white pictures. I know she disliked those freckles and she quickly learned how to cover them with foundation and make-up so that they were barely visible. She seldom, if ever, went out with her make-up.
She told me once that when she was about five years old, someone told her that she could rid herself of the hated freckles by washing her face in morning dew. So that summer, every morning she rose before everyone else and slipped outside so she could wet her hands with dew and then rub her face with the moisture.
Weeks passed, and she anxiously peered in the mirror daily to see if the freckles were diminishing. Her determination must have been fierce, because she kept at it every day.
Then her mother caught her one morning as she stood outside in her little nightgown, scrubbing her face with dew.
"I am getting rid of my freckles," she said. (Well, I don't know exactly what passed between them, of course, but I could hear my mother making such a pronouncement.)
My grandmother would have laughed and told her she was being silly. "You can't get rid of freckles," she would have said. "Stop coming outside in your nightie."
I presume my mother was crestfallen at the prospect of never ridding herself of her freckles. But the thought of her rushing out every morning to wash her face in dew makes me smile at her innocence and hope.
She really was still a child when I was born, as she was only 18 (she turned 19 the same month). When I think about how I was at 18, I suspect the prospect of raising a child must have been terrifying, with or without freckles.
I don't know what she would have been like now at the age of 73. I do know, though, that she would still be applying make-up everyday, to ensure that those freckles, even dimmed by age, were hidden.
My mother had freckles all of her life. The few childhood photos of her I have seen show freckles that stand out even in black and white pictures. I know she disliked those freckles and she quickly learned how to cover them with foundation and make-up so that they were barely visible. She seldom, if ever, went out with her make-up.
She told me once that when she was about five years old, someone told her that she could rid herself of the hated freckles by washing her face in morning dew. So that summer, every morning she rose before everyone else and slipped outside so she could wet her hands with dew and then rub her face with the moisture.
Weeks passed, and she anxiously peered in the mirror daily to see if the freckles were diminishing. Her determination must have been fierce, because she kept at it every day.
Then her mother caught her one morning as she stood outside in her little nightgown, scrubbing her face with dew.
"I am getting rid of my freckles," she said. (Well, I don't know exactly what passed between them, of course, but I could hear my mother making such a pronouncement.)
My grandmother would have laughed and told her she was being silly. "You can't get rid of freckles," she would have said. "Stop coming outside in your nightie."
I presume my mother was crestfallen at the prospect of never ridding herself of her freckles. But the thought of her rushing out every morning to wash her face in dew makes me smile at her innocence and hope.
She really was still a child when I was born, as she was only 18 (she turned 19 the same month). When I think about how I was at 18, I suspect the prospect of raising a child must have been terrifying, with or without freckles.
I don't know what she would have been like now at the age of 73. I do know, though, that she would still be applying make-up everyday, to ensure that those freckles, even dimmed by age, were hidden.
Labels:
Family
Monday, June 19, 2017
Invisible Women
Earlier this morning, I came across an article about middle-aged women and how they become invisible to society. The link is here.
I have read many such articles as I have aged. Once a woman turns 40, it seems the world has little use for her. This is particularly true if you are childless, whether that is by choice or circumstance. A mother always has a role, but the childless middle-aged woman is superfluous.
In the article, I was particularly struck by this paragraph:
Not only is a woman an "existence," she's a person. A human being with needs, wants, desires and all of the other things that every other person on the planet wants. Men are not defined by relationships, per se - they are defined by who they are, and in today's capitalistic society, by what they do. He is an architect is more likely to come before he is a father. He is a farmer, a venture capitalist, or a banker, but he is a husband is not the first thing out of anyone's mouth except his wife's.
Women, however, are indeed wives, mothers, daughters, etc. before they are what they do. I am more often introduced as James' wife than I am Anita the writer. I am even acknowledged as my father's daughter sometimes before what I do and who I am, despite the fact that I have been married far longer than I ever lived at home.
My mother struggled with this lack of recognition and a troubled self-perception when she hit her 40s. There she was with a daughter married by then, her child-bearing days over, and she was my mother, my father's wife, and a file clerk still after 25 years at the job she'd had since she was 15. She did not grow old well even though, since she died at the age of 56, she never actually grew old. She had problems with grey hair and wrinkles and the signs that she was no longer a sweet young thing. She needed the male gaze and male adoration to assure herself of her self-worth, as I think most woman do, and for her and for others the loss of that can be devastating. This was in spite of the fact that she was a mother, daughter, career woman, etc. My mother also was infertile before her 30s, but she had two children before doctors removed her female parts.
Incidentally, tomorrow is my mother's birthday. She would have been 73.
I, on the other hand, hit middle age and invisibility when I was 29 and doctors removed my womanly parts. By that time I was well aware that I had no place in the world, that doctors talked over me to my husband about the fate of my uterus, that the knowledge that I couldn't have children, a subconscious fact known since I was 23, had left me a shell of a person. The hysterectomy only confirmed what society had already imprinted upon me. Being childless made me no one. A girl is no one, as they said of Arya Stark in Game of Thrones. A misogynistic quote if I ever heard one.
My fate having long been accepted, I shrugged and moved on. I moved through my 30s and 40s and into my 50s with the knowledge that I was no one, and invisible to most. Some will argue with me on that - I know you, they will say. We know your byline, others will say. We know you. You are not invisible.
Maybe not always, no. But most times, yes.
I am friends with many childless women; we find one another somehow, I think. Even people who know better - who know I never had children - forget and ask how my children are, assuming that somehow one magically appeared beneath my pillow one night and I went on to raise it to adulthood. The assumption amazes me.
As I move into my mid-50s, and quickly approach the age my mother was when she died, I find myself looking back at the many things I have done and not done. On some fronts I am quite accomplished, with three college degrees, thousands of published articles and photos, a decent if not McMansion-type house, and a loving husband. On other fronts, I think of opportunities I have missed out of fear - fear that I was not good enough, that I was less-than, that I could not cope or manage with whatever it was before me. Fear that I might become visible if I stepped out of my comfortable space. I do not do things like travel alone, for example. I wanted to travel when I was younger but my husband was tied to the farm and we seldom went away. Now I am not healthy and I think I should not travel. But if I don't go now, I will never go.
I suspect I will never go.
My grey hair does not look bad on me. I wear it well; it is a true white, not a gray, and it is soft and it blends fairly well with my lighter brown hair. The wrinkles - I am fortunate there, so far, though I have been dismayed to note that I am going to be one of those people with a downturned mouth if I make it to a ripe old age, and not one with a perpetual smile. So long as it is not a smirk I shall find it agreeable, I suppose, though I really did hope for the upturn of lips.
But back to being invisible. My name is fairly well known locally, thanks to all of those published articles. People who think they know me but do not know me are often surprised to find the face and body behind the name. They see that I am older, grayer, fatter than they thought. Because fat people are invisible, too. Or maybe invisible people become fat in hopes of taking up space and not being invisible. I'm not sure about that. Anyway, people know my name and then I think they try to forget they met me, preferring instead the byline and the invisible to the byline and the reality.
I find being invisible irksome when it comes to health care, trying to get something off the top shelf at the store, or being noticed in a crowd when I need to be noticed. Male doctors are dismissive and they do not bother to find cures (so I see female doctors when I can) and they ignore what I say. It is so bad that I haul my husband to important doctor appointments because they will listen, then. If I am in enough pain that the man is along, then they pay attention. At the supermarket, if I need help, I've taken to blatantly walking up to a tall person and asking for it; otherwise a sales clerk will walk by me without seeing me standing there, perplexed, as I try to figure out how to get the honey from the back of the top shelf. (I have discovered that is a good use for my cane, by the way.) At the theater the other week, I desperately wanted the fellow picking up trash to notice me so I could wave him over and hand him my popcorn and drink so I could use both hands to get down the stairs, but despite my waving and even a furtive "hey, you," I remained invisible.
No one should be invisible. That includes me, other women of a certain age, poor people, mentally ill people, disabled people, old people, fat people, or unattractive people. Everyone deserves eye contact, a smile, and acknowledgement. It takes so little to nod your head and show you've seen someone. It doesn't mean you have to donate money to them, but you have, at least, given them their humanity.
I have read many such articles as I have aged. Once a woman turns 40, it seems the world has little use for her. This is particularly true if you are childless, whether that is by choice or circumstance. A mother always has a role, but the childless middle-aged woman is superfluous.
In the article, I was particularly struck by this paragraph:
In a world where women are almost always defined by their relationships (daughter, sister, lover, wife, mother, grandmother) it strikes me as important to shed a light on the woman herself. What is she without all these shoes she has to fill? Well, she’s an existence and she’s an existence that either disturbs her surroundings—or is in the danger of retreating from them: like mist.
Not only is a woman an "existence," she's a person. A human being with needs, wants, desires and all of the other things that every other person on the planet wants. Men are not defined by relationships, per se - they are defined by who they are, and in today's capitalistic society, by what they do. He is an architect is more likely to come before he is a father. He is a farmer, a venture capitalist, or a banker, but he is a husband is not the first thing out of anyone's mouth except his wife's.
Women, however, are indeed wives, mothers, daughters, etc. before they are what they do. I am more often introduced as James' wife than I am Anita the writer. I am even acknowledged as my father's daughter sometimes before what I do and who I am, despite the fact that I have been married far longer than I ever lived at home.
My mother struggled with this lack of recognition and a troubled self-perception when she hit her 40s. There she was with a daughter married by then, her child-bearing days over, and she was my mother, my father's wife, and a file clerk still after 25 years at the job she'd had since she was 15. She did not grow old well even though, since she died at the age of 56, she never actually grew old. She had problems with grey hair and wrinkles and the signs that she was no longer a sweet young thing. She needed the male gaze and male adoration to assure herself of her self-worth, as I think most woman do, and for her and for others the loss of that can be devastating. This was in spite of the fact that she was a mother, daughter, career woman, etc. My mother also was infertile before her 30s, but she had two children before doctors removed her female parts.
Incidentally, tomorrow is my mother's birthday. She would have been 73.
I, on the other hand, hit middle age and invisibility when I was 29 and doctors removed my womanly parts. By that time I was well aware that I had no place in the world, that doctors talked over me to my husband about the fate of my uterus, that the knowledge that I couldn't have children, a subconscious fact known since I was 23, had left me a shell of a person. The hysterectomy only confirmed what society had already imprinted upon me. Being childless made me no one. A girl is no one, as they said of Arya Stark in Game of Thrones. A misogynistic quote if I ever heard one.
My fate having long been accepted, I shrugged and moved on. I moved through my 30s and 40s and into my 50s with the knowledge that I was no one, and invisible to most. Some will argue with me on that - I know you, they will say. We know your byline, others will say. We know you. You are not invisible.
Maybe not always, no. But most times, yes.
I am friends with many childless women; we find one another somehow, I think. Even people who know better - who know I never had children - forget and ask how my children are, assuming that somehow one magically appeared beneath my pillow one night and I went on to raise it to adulthood. The assumption amazes me.
As I move into my mid-50s, and quickly approach the age my mother was when she died, I find myself looking back at the many things I have done and not done. On some fronts I am quite accomplished, with three college degrees, thousands of published articles and photos, a decent if not McMansion-type house, and a loving husband. On other fronts, I think of opportunities I have missed out of fear - fear that I was not good enough, that I was less-than, that I could not cope or manage with whatever it was before me. Fear that I might become visible if I stepped out of my comfortable space. I do not do things like travel alone, for example. I wanted to travel when I was younger but my husband was tied to the farm and we seldom went away. Now I am not healthy and I think I should not travel. But if I don't go now, I will never go.
I suspect I will never go.
My grey hair does not look bad on me. I wear it well; it is a true white, not a gray, and it is soft and it blends fairly well with my lighter brown hair. The wrinkles - I am fortunate there, so far, though I have been dismayed to note that I am going to be one of those people with a downturned mouth if I make it to a ripe old age, and not one with a perpetual smile. So long as it is not a smirk I shall find it agreeable, I suppose, though I really did hope for the upturn of lips.
But back to being invisible. My name is fairly well known locally, thanks to all of those published articles. People who think they know me but do not know me are often surprised to find the face and body behind the name. They see that I am older, grayer, fatter than they thought. Because fat people are invisible, too. Or maybe invisible people become fat in hopes of taking up space and not being invisible. I'm not sure about that. Anyway, people know my name and then I think they try to forget they met me, preferring instead the byline and the invisible to the byline and the reality.
I find being invisible irksome when it comes to health care, trying to get something off the top shelf at the store, or being noticed in a crowd when I need to be noticed. Male doctors are dismissive and they do not bother to find cures (so I see female doctors when I can) and they ignore what I say. It is so bad that I haul my husband to important doctor appointments because they will listen, then. If I am in enough pain that the man is along, then they pay attention. At the supermarket, if I need help, I've taken to blatantly walking up to a tall person and asking for it; otherwise a sales clerk will walk by me without seeing me standing there, perplexed, as I try to figure out how to get the honey from the back of the top shelf. (I have discovered that is a good use for my cane, by the way.) At the theater the other week, I desperately wanted the fellow picking up trash to notice me so I could wave him over and hand him my popcorn and drink so I could use both hands to get down the stairs, but despite my waving and even a furtive "hey, you," I remained invisible.
No one should be invisible. That includes me, other women of a certain age, poor people, mentally ill people, disabled people, old people, fat people, or unattractive people. Everyone deserves eye contact, a smile, and acknowledgement. It takes so little to nod your head and show you've seen someone. It doesn't mean you have to donate money to them, but you have, at least, given them their humanity.
Labels:
Musings
Sunday, June 18, 2017
Sunday Stealing: Ginormous Q&A
Sunday Stealing: The Ginormous Questions
1. Are you single?
A. Married for going on 34 years this year.
2. Are your parents still married?
A. My mother is dead. My father remarried 10 years ago.
3. Are you in love? A. Yes.
4. Do you believe in love at first sight? A. Yes.
5. Who ended your last relationship?
A. That was so long ago I have no idea.
6. Have you ever been hurt by a break up?
A. Well, yes. Who hasn't?
7. Have you ever broken someone’s heart? A. Probably.
8. Have you ever had a secret admirer?
A. I don't know. It was a secret.
9. Prefer love or lust?
A. Can't I have both?
10. Prefer a few best friends or many regular friends?
A. A few best friends.
11. Wild night out or romantic night in?
A. Romantic night in.
12. Back in the day: Been caught sneaking out?
A. Not from home. I was caught skipping school.
13. Ever wanted something/someone so badly it hurt?
A. Probably, but nothing comes to mind at the moment.
14. Who are/is your best friend(s)?
A. I have several people I correspond with or talk on the phone regularly with.
15. Ever wanted to disappear?
A. Poof! I'm gone.
16. First attraction: Smile or eyes? A. Eyes.
17. Prefer intelligence or attraction? A. Intelligence.
18. Last phone call you received?
A. From a friend asking about homeopathic remedies.
19. Last thing you drank?
A. Water, and it gave me the hiccups.
20. Before your current one, when was your last relationship?
A. Far too long ago to remember.
21. Do you and your family get along? A. Sometimes.
22. Would you say you have a "screwed up life"?
A. I have managed to do okay. (You are welcome to take that as "yes, I have managed to screw up my life very well, thank you, or no, my life is fine. Your choice. They are both true.)
23. Have you ever gotten kicked out somewhere? If yes, do tell.
A. I was kicked out of an optometrist's place of business, if you can believe that. He was putting in new lenses and somehow or another managed to dunk the frames in the eyeglass tint and discolored them. When I complained, he threw me out and told me to never come back to his place of business (which I did not). I filed charges against him with the state regulating authority, who gave him a little warning about being nicer to customers with legitimate complaints.
24. Do you trust all your friends?
A. Most of them, yes.
25. Who knows the most about you?
A. The guy I've been married to for three decades plus.
__________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
1. Are you single?
A. Married for going on 34 years this year.
2. Are your parents still married?
A. My mother is dead. My father remarried 10 years ago.
3. Are you in love? A. Yes.
4. Do you believe in love at first sight? A. Yes.
5. Who ended your last relationship?
A. That was so long ago I have no idea.
6. Have you ever been hurt by a break up?
A. Well, yes. Who hasn't?
7. Have you ever broken someone’s heart? A. Probably.
8. Have you ever had a secret admirer?
A. I don't know. It was a secret.
9. Prefer love or lust?
A. Can't I have both?
10. Prefer a few best friends or many regular friends?
A. A few best friends.
11. Wild night out or romantic night in?
A. Romantic night in.
12. Back in the day: Been caught sneaking out?
A. Not from home. I was caught skipping school.
13. Ever wanted something/someone so badly it hurt?
A. Probably, but nothing comes to mind at the moment.
14. Who are/is your best friend(s)?
A. I have several people I correspond with or talk on the phone regularly with.
15. Ever wanted to disappear?
A. Poof! I'm gone.
16. First attraction: Smile or eyes? A. Eyes.
17. Prefer intelligence or attraction? A. Intelligence.
18. Last phone call you received?
A. From a friend asking about homeopathic remedies.
19. Last thing you drank?
A. Water, and it gave me the hiccups.
20. Before your current one, when was your last relationship?
A. Far too long ago to remember.
21. Do you and your family get along? A. Sometimes.
22. Would you say you have a "screwed up life"?
A. I have managed to do okay. (You are welcome to take that as "yes, I have managed to screw up my life very well, thank you, or no, my life is fine. Your choice. They are both true.)
23. Have you ever gotten kicked out somewhere? If yes, do tell.
A. I was kicked out of an optometrist's place of business, if you can believe that. He was putting in new lenses and somehow or another managed to dunk the frames in the eyeglass tint and discolored them. When I complained, he threw me out and told me to never come back to his place of business (which I did not). I filed charges against him with the state regulating authority, who gave him a little warning about being nicer to customers with legitimate complaints.
24. Do you trust all your friends?
A. Most of them, yes.
25. Who knows the most about you?
A. The guy I've been married to for three decades plus.
__________
I encourage you to visit other participants in Sunday Stealing posts and leave a comment. Cheers to all us thieves who love memes, however we come by them.
Labels:
SundayStealing
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