He Was A Curtain Rod Salesman!

In the mid 80's I found myself wearing big hair, big glasses and being a brand new grandmother. I also had decided to be involved with my little boy and my job and a new found enjoyment of exercise. I had stopped visiting with friends and was completely happy with that situation.
One afternoon a friend that I hadn't seen in a long time stopped by. She said, "Okay, Lu, it's time for you to get out and about. I will wait while you shower, do your make-up and dress cute." I told her that I was happy at home and didn't need to go out for supper. She was insisting that I get my "rear in gear" as she put it so finally I did just that.
We went to a very nice restaurant and I enjoyed myself! After our meal, Sue suggested we go into their bar and have a nightcap before we went home. I thought, "sure why not?" and followed her into the bar. Boy was it dark. It had a horseshoe bar and very small tables which were filled and a jukebox that was playing soft country western music. I have an aversion to sitting at a bar. That is just not my thing so I suggested that we go home. Sue had other ideas and saddled up to the bar. I figured I could have one drink and go home. I had broken one rule already; that was the rule where you always drive your own car.
I sat down by this elderly gentleman that seemed harmless. When I sat down wearing my "cute"eighties in style  jumpsuit, he said, "Hi, I"m Carl." Ok, here starts one of the best evenings I ever spent.
Carl had pure white hair. He wanted to visit so I obliged him and had such a fun time with him. He wanted to know what I did for a living. I told him that I worked for Sears. I asked him what he did for a living and he told me that he sold curtain rods for Penny's. I couldn't help it, I laughed. Being me, I said, "I didn't know that there were actual people that sold curtain rods." And his stories began.
He had not always sold curtain rods, he had sold vacuum cleaners, encyclopedias, brushes, and also "you name it. "He told so many funny stories that all the people that were sitting at the bar were in hysterics they were laughing so hard. Stories where he got chased off the porch by the lady of the house, bit by dogs, and once a jealous husband!
I noticed a man that sat across the bar from me that was laughing so hard, but was also hardly looking at the old man, but looking at me. Hmm. That was the beginning of the next twenty years of my life. We often talked about that curtain rod salesman. His personality, I'm sure, made him a very good living selling whatever he chose to sell.
The end of that twenty years didn't end well, but I still have good memories of that marriage and the curtain rod salesman that started it all with lots of fun stories.
My daughter once told me, "Mom you just go through life collecting characters to make your life interesting." Boy have I had a collection of characters! And it has been fun and so interesting. I can't wait to see if there are new characters just waiting to be part of my collection.

My Dogs Are Cowards!

I almost never post two posts a day, but I have to write this down. I have not laughed so hard in years. I am still laughing.
Well, as many of you know I have M.S. My health turned the corner for the best due to a med change a few months ago. I have been walking without a cane, I've been caring for my mother-in-law in her home. I am not asymptomatic, but I am so much better. I wrote a post on my blog called Marie's Memories the other day about her decades old sheet music and referred to her as an accomplished pianist. Well today I thought 'since I am so much better maybe I can play the piano again.' I brought a few pieces of her music home with me today. It was all taped together, but I was able to see the music so therefore, was playable.
I first of all, sat down and opened up some of my own music for the first time in many years probably about eight or nine. M.S. had done a number on my brain so that when I wanted to play a note my brain didn't send the signal to my hands. I was sad and after some time, I had just quit playing. I even had the piano up for sale, but it is 45 years old; no one wanted it.
We had gotten new furniture and needed the space where the piano had been for eleven years. Fran and my son moved it into the room where my computer is. It has just been sitting all these years.

Bandit

I digress. I got out the music and ouch, the piano was so far out of tune that it was atrocious. I could play piano again! Not very well, but I could play. It is amazing that muscles that have not been used, even in your hands get tired and stiff. Okay, so then I got out Marie's music. Oh my goodness, I couldn't even begin to play the music that she had played over and over again for years. Her signature was to each piece; Marie Rose Aubin. (her maiden name.) Well, I put her music away because there was no way I could play it. I closed up the piano and went out to the kitchen where  Fran was fixing supper.

Maggie Mae

I noticed that Maggie wasn't sitting there watching him like she always does. I mentioned it to Fran. He looked down at the chicken he was frying and muttered, "She wanted outside, not just on the porch, but out in the rain. Bandit hid under the bed. He was scared to death." I am laughing so hard I can hardly type this. It was about an hour before both of them peered around the corner to make sure "that noise" was not going to kill them both. Fran said, "Well, that awful noise hurt their ears!" It was not my fault!!
Marie is deaf, so I told Fran, "fine I will practice at your mom's house she won't be able to hear the sour notes." He said, "yeah she would like that." And the bickering began again; Both of us laughing. It was a good feeling. Laughter really is the best medicine along with two cute dogs and a husband that can laugh with me.

My First Year In Long Term Care.

I had retired from Sears after thirteen years. I was ready for a long vacation so I took one for about three months
After awhile I began getting antsy. I needed to go back to work. I looked at the want ads occasionally, I was not in a hurry. One day I was reading the want ads and an ad caught my attention it said, "Do you like people and play the piano?" Well, I had heard that the Holiday Inn bar needed a piano player so I thought that sounded fun. I had had enough retail to last me the rest of my life. So I answered the ad. To my surprise it was a nursing home. They wanted an Assistant Activity Director. I thought it sounded like fun so I said yes when they offered me the job. The first day I was in a car accident on the way to work. The Activity Director said I come to work or stay home. So I went to work with a neck collar on. Then I got the flu. Can you believe it? I was walking on a fine line probably to the unemployment line. The first week I lost ten pounds and was on my way to losing more. I just didn't think I was cut out to be an employee in the long term care field. The thing was, I heard these old people screaming all day long. I was told not to worry about it. I saw old people in wheelchairs with chest restraints on being restrained to the hand railing in the halls. I saw old people being completely ignored. Little did I know that in that year the facility I started my career in was slated to house residents that had lived their lives in mental health facilities that were being closed. Many nursing homes had buses loaded with folks being transferred to their facilities. It was horrible. My little boy would say to me, "Mama, you smell like a hospital." I smelled worse than that. I got so tired that one day I sat down in my chair when I got home and when I woke up it was 7:00. I thought it was A.M. and I raced up the stairs and took a shower and got dressed for work. It was not A.M. I had fallen asleep for two hours. I was completely exhausted. One day a confused resident I was walking back to his room stopped, looked at me and hit me so hard with his fist that he broke three of my ribs. Not a fun facility.
One day the Activity Director told me that she thought I was doing an excellent job and that she would like to recommend me for the job of Activity Director at another facility. I was astonished, but I thanked her. I interviewed and got the job.Actually that was the first day of the rest of my life. I loved it there.
I loved my assistant. We laughed and had a ball with our residents. I had complete cart blanch'e with what activities I was going to offer the residents that lived there. I developed an Orientation Clown. The residents that weren't oriented to time and place eventually would know that when they saw the Clown it was Wednesday. I developed so many activities that are still being done for residents as a must in these days. I taught Science, Cooking, Happy Hour, Exercise activities five times a week and a ton more. I even had a Mexican Hat dance activity; they had a ball! I made a very good friend there that was a Social Worker and we still visit on Facebook.
One day after I had started working there for about a month, an R.N. came to me and asked me if I would hold a resident while she was dying. What?? My eyes must have been big as saucers. I will never forget her. She said to me, "LuAnne, this lady has no family and I do need you to be with her until the end. I am so busy today, I just can't, but I'm sure you will do it for her." She used the tone of voice no one argued with. I wouldn't have anyway, but I was very uncomfortable.When I walked into the lady's room she seemed unconscious. I sat on the edge of the bed and cradled her in my arms. She was aware of me and actually cuddled against me. I was there only about five minutes until she passed away. I don't know if I was a comfort to her or not, but I would like to believe I was.
I took the State of Missouri and Federal Administrator License tests. Then just for fun I got my life long Kansas Assisted Living License. I just now threw it away. I just don't feel like going back to work!
I had my mother as a resident in two facilities. I could feed her and watch the activities she attended if I wanted to. I was appreciative of an Activity Assistant that had taken care to have my completely disoriented Mother attend a crocheting class. I watched in wonderment as my sweet mama crocheted like she always had; not looking at her work, but watching to see what the other people were doing.

Marie, Roger
Talking to Tricia

I am now at the age of 73 taking care of my 102 year old mother-in-law and doing more nursing care than activities.  I was at a loss how to keep her mind busy which is a must to help people stay alert. She always loved my computer and would look at the pictures of her and her family on the blog that I had started to write years ago.  I wondered if she had enough vision left to enjoy that activity again. I started showing her pictures on my IPad, my laptop, and finally my Kindle. She would whisper to me who they were. She didn't recognize her family from modern pictures, just the old ones. She loved it! Well that was the Readers Digest Condensed version of the beginning of twenty years. It was a very rewarding career. I felt at the time that making them laugh and reminiscing with them made a difference in their lives.

He Enjoyed His Week-ends With Woodworking

In a group that I post in every day for Marie, I once said, I see, but I don't notice. Interesting how that works. You are in the same house day after day year after year and Marie's things don't change. She has a strict rule about not moving things. Well, that rule had to stretch because of her frail health. I needed to clean and rearrange so that I could care for her more efficiently.
Yes, I found some things that had always been in the same spot and it just amazed me. I have been living with Marie and caring for her for about five months. Yesterday Fran pointed to a shelf that has her dolls and keepsakes on and said,"I made that." What?
Fran enjoyed woodworking for a hobby on weekends to give him something to do. That's what he said when I asked him why woodworking. Then I let him just talk and I got the answer I was expecting, because I know a little bit about him.
He said, "Well I went to auctions and sales and I bought sanders and routers, and different kinds of tools." So he had the means then he needed the how. He ordered some books with patterns and it was fun for him and people really liked them. They would tell Fran what kind of pattern they wanted on shelves and lantern holders and he would find a pattern and make it for them. Of course, I asked how much he sold them for. He told me $35.00 So I said, "What?" again. He told me he could buy a 2"x 10" piece of lumber cheap back then. He could get several lantern holders out of one piece of lumber.
He bought patterns and actually ironed the design on the lumber. He then used a dremel grinding tool to do little intricate designs.
Well, I didn't have one! It seemed I was the only one that didn't have one. I didn't have a lantern holder, or shelf, or sconces. Not a thing.

Before

After

Some months later we were helping a friend with her garage sale. She had a storage area under the garage and Fran and her fiance'e were loading up trailers full of "stuff" that she was going to put on the sale. It seemed like it took forever to load and unload things for her sale. Everything had been in her storage for years. We washed dishes and cookware, and knick knacks. All at once Fran said, "I made that!" I couldn't believe that one of his lantern holders had emerged from the dregs of a under the house storage area. I pounced on that thing and said, "I want that thing, you can't sell it!" She laughed and handed  me the cobwebby thing and said, "there you go!" And I had just the thing to put in it; My mother's antique milk glass lantern. It is now hanging proudly by my chair. Isn't it pretty? I have some other pictures of some he was just starting in his work shop and some finished things. He picked a great thing to do in his workshop in the winter time.
So of course, I tease and nag for more, but he says he sold all of his tools and isn't going to buy any more. Oh well, I have this one and I love it!

My Best Friend's Blog

I posted on Lu's Place the other day that my best friend's birthday would have been that day.

Yesterday I was looking something up on Google. My sentence started with "ca" and up popped the name of my friend's blog called carole's corner.

I had forgotten that she had started a blog. She didn't live long enough to post more than a few of her dear messages. She didn't spell very well, but she had a message! The messages were always about three things: young people, old people and wild life.

If I heard her say it once she said it a dozen times, "I'm their advocate" referring to her residents in a nursing home. I would say, "Yes, Carole, you are their advocate." A bit patronizing, but that's how we talked to each other.

Carole and I in my kitchen about 7 years ago.

Well, of course, when I saw her blog I had to read the posts. She had never done any blogging. She experimented with colored ink on colored background so it is difficult to read, but I could "hear" her loud and clear. I am going to give you her website carole-tuffie.blogspot.com I would just love it if you would take five minutes of your time and read her posts. She may be gone, but her little blog will live into eternity.

Thank you.

She would absolutely kill me for posting this picture, but this is one of our most fun times. She was a beauty operator, but always wanted me to frost her hair, if she was broke. She was never broke, just would say that so she could have a beer and visit fast and furiously while I did her hair. And I might add, it was no easy feat because her hair was short!!

Marlee Is My Muse

Marlee gave me the umph to get back to telling little stories to small children. I've always been a story teller. I came from a family of story tellers and I just thought that story telling was a part of life. My dad and mother both were story tellers and so was my Uncle Leslie.
My mother always told me I should write children's books because I would tell my little ones stories even before they were born. After they were born I would take on the characters of the book and we would laugh and tremble whatever the case would be.

Her first biscuits and gravy

My children grew up and away. Along came grandchildren and I started writing stories for them, but they also grew up and had a father that sold books! You just can't compete with that, let me tell you.

Their work boots

Then a little girl named Winter came into my life and needed some stories starring her. I was just the person to do that. That didn't last too long due to a multitude of different reasons. I so enjoyed writing her stories and she would clap her hands and say, "story!" and then it stopped.

That is so funny, Grandma B

My cake and I'm not done!

I enjoy Facebook and read the posts and enjoy the pictures. One of the friends was a grandmother to a precious little 17 month old whose name was Marlee. Oh, I watched the videos and I started to watch her grow and become such a sweet little personality. So I asked her grandmother if I could put her in my children story blog and she said, "yes!"
Marlee makes me happy, she makes me laugh, she makes me sad, and glad. She is an unofficial adopted great granddaughter in my mind. So therefore, I have made her my official literary muse.
Here are some of the photos that will make you agree that she is an inspiration.

I love you so much

If you go to joemom2.blogspot.com My blog for her is called Grandma Lu's Winter wonderland has some wonderful videos of Marlee that her Grandma B takes and lets me embed them into her blog. Grandma B has a farm and mini horses and donkeys and dogs and a cat. Marlee gets to help with chores and has her very own special boots she wears to do her work! She is a doll.
Sometimes I add little friends of Grandma Lu which are often my family members.

He Likes A Honey Do List

My husband's name is Francis. Most people call him Fran. If I want something done that I figure he won't want to do I call him Frannie. Not too many folks call him that any more and I do it on purpose mostly to get his attention.
Fran is someone that will work like a dog to get a huge project done by a self imposed "due date."
This is not my "first rodeo" so I know a thing or two about men. If I ask Fran to do something for me I can actually see him ignore me; some people call it selective hearing, as does Fran. He will repeatedly say, "you didn't tell me you wanted me to do this or that." Ahem, I have resorted to the "List."
A Honey Do List is a list that is written in cursive and attached to the refrigerator with a magnet, or better yet a magnetized note pad that sticks to the refrigerator all by itself!
Cursive is a form of handwriting that was taught to students by their teachers throughout the centuries, world wide. In every language I might add.
I was watching the Ellen Show the other day and there was an eleven year old that told Ellen she didn't have a signature because she hadn't been taught to write in cursive. Can you believe that?
Just think what would happen to our economy without cursive. There would not be any Handwriting Experts, therefore, no one to testify in court for or against a victim or crook. There would be no teachers that could get a job teaching cursive, no manufacturing of tablets for the young folks to write their spelling words, no stationery would be needed for love letters to their loved ones when they are deployed in our horrible wars, or in boot camp or on a hike through Europe for their graduation present and lose their passport. Yes, it did happen.
I digress, as always. My Honey Do list does wonders for me. We are refurbishing
a mobile home. I see things that need done, replaced, and/or repaired that for some reason, Fran does not. See below the difference a list made ten years ago in our own home.

Before the list

After the list

A Re-post From April 2009: A Funny Story

There are many of you that cannot see the old posts when reading Marie's blog on your phone. I told Fran that I have run out of things for folks to read about his mom. I happened to think about then vs. now and decided that if you would like to re- post some of her stories I would.
Even years ago I thought of Marie as a very serious person. I know now that she didn't know me very well when she was telling me stories of her life. She wanted me to know the facts and that's how she related her life stories to me.
"I asked Marie to tell me a funny story. All her stories seemed to me so serious. Those of you that know me, know how much I love to laugh. Marie said, "I don't know if I have a funny story."  The story she ended up telling me is hilarious in my estimation.
At the time this story happened, Marie had had three babies. She had gone to a Military Ball where Tommy Dorsey was going to be playing. Her second cousin's daughter sang with his band. Marie's cousin introduced Marie to Tommy and told him that Marie could sing. She asked him if Marie could sing with his band that night; just one problem, as with many new mothers, the babies had taken the calcium from her teeth. She had had to have her teeth pulled. She carried a fan with her. In
In those days they had no microphones, so the audience had to be quiet as little mice. She sang a song with a fan in front of her face which made hearing her even more difficult for the audience.
That night was exciting and embarrassing at the same time. However, how many of us can say we sang with the Tommy Dorsey Band?"
I'm going to add this for the younger readers. Tommy Dorsey went on to become one of the country's most well known band leaders in our country.
If she had had three babies, it would have been in the mid to

later 1940's.
Tommy Dorsey played the trombone like the genius that he was. His band was called Tommy Dorsey's Greatest Band. He played Swing and Jazz.
She never told me what song she sang I would love to know. I also wish we had a video of her with that very famous band.

It Should Have Been Her Birthday Today

This post is a biography of my best friend Carole. Today would have been her birthday. She was born 49 days before me. Because of this, she always told me to respect her, she was my elder.
People at least once a week asked us if we were sisters. We always laughed and said, "We are closer than sisters."
She was tall, I was average. She was slender, I was softer. She drank beer, I couldn't stand it. She dyed everything white with tea so it would look old; doilies, curtains; drove me nuts.
She drove a little convertible with the license plate Ce'la vie' . That was her motto whatever will be will be.

She had one child and one marriage. She carried a broken heart from a love affair that was not meant to be. She was an advocate for the elderly. She loved impromptu activities!
She loved me. I loved her. We never had a fight in twenty years. We were just as close living three hours away from each other as we were living three blocks away from each other.
She always told me you have to have friends in low places because they will always have your back. She carried a gun. I hate guns.
She loved to dance. She had a hair trigger temper always triggered by an injustice.
She was a beautician, but after a few years she decided that she would rather do something different and became a social worker for a nursing home.
She gave me the best haircuts and perms ever! She would ask me to frost her hair and it was always an excuse to have a rum and coke and for her a beer.
She was the example of "pride goeth before the fall." She had insurance, but some inconceivable reason she thought that Medicare would deny her claims if she went to the doctor when she knew that she needed to go thinking that it would be a considered a pre-existing illness. I turned myself blue in the face trying to convince her to go, but she would not do it.
Neither of us had a clue that she had cancer. When she did finally go to the doctor it was too late for life saving procedures. It was the announcement to me, the Hospice nursing, and equipment in her home and within just a few months admittance to the same nursing home she had worked in for over twenty years.
Within a few short weeks she was gone.
It is not grief that she is gone because she suffered terribbly from the aggressive monster that was destroying her body, but rather a void in my life that will forever be with me.
Her picture is always available for me to see and the little statue that I have pictured says, "If we live to be 103 my best friend you will always be." The fun part of that little knick knack is that we gave each other the same one on a very special Christmas the year before the horror began.
Love hurts, but love gives us something that we can hold dear to our hearts until the day that we join the loved ones that are waiting for us.
Happy birthday, dear one.