ACHOOOOOO ! Spring is here and the breezes are filled with yellow pollens. Though the leaves have unfurled and blossoms have burst, the pollens continue to saturate the air, causing eyes to water, noses to run, sneezing and coughing to occur all around us. I've never had allergies before moving here, and this is all new to me, but I'm exposed now to new plantlife here that I'd never run into in the North. My brother told me that he experienced this for about three years after moving here, and then he 'got used to it.' I'm hoping to do the same, but this is my fourth Spring here, and I'm beginning to wonder if I will ever get used to it.
There's really not much I can do about it, other than to take Claritin for the symptoms. It seems to work quite well. I am grateful not to be as sensitive as some are, who require injections to combat their allergies. I love to be outdoors at this time of the year, and would hate to have to hibernate behind closed doors and windows during this beautiful season of buds and blooms.
For today, though, I will be inside, and unfortunately I will be exposed to high pollen counts as I tackle the cleaning of the sunroom. Without thinking, we had opened all ten windows in there when the warmer weather came, and that allowed thick layers of yellow pollen to cover every surface of the room. I'll need to carefully dust the surfaces and to vacuum the upholstered furniture, and probably even the walls. Spring cleaning has never been my favorite activity, and it's even more despised with this new enemy at hand. However, the task awaits and must be accomplished.
I wish I had a Haz-mat suit to wear while I clean. Without question, I'll be covered in gold dust, and not the good stuff!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Water: Friend and Foe
The abundant rains of this Spring, combined with the thawing of frequent snow falls during the Winter of 2009, has caused a good deal of inconvenience for many people in my old stomping grounds. There's water that requires pumps in the basement to run incessantly, followed by weeks of dehumidifiers. Homes that formerly stood on dry land are now lake front properties. Some huge, oceanfront homes were in danger of going into the drink, due to erosion, during the storms raging. Drivers, not aware of the depth of the water, plow through it, causing the engines to quit.
Water is a good thing, but like everything else, when there's too much of it, it can become a nuisance. I remember flying over the flooded Mississippi River back in the early 1990's. Looking from the plane's window, water seemed to be everywhere, and I just couldn't imagine what the residents in those areas were having to deal with. In later years, there was a trecherous flood in Keene, NH where homes on the river were swept off the banks and damage was horrendous. Then there was Hurricane Katrina which caused enormous devastation to the city of New Orleans.
On a much smaller scale, thank Heaven, we've suffered water damage in a few instances. The water table was high on our East Hampton property, and when the Spring rains came after a particularly wet Winter, we'd sometimes get puddles in the basement. We learned how to fix that...placing a ten foot long lead at the end of the corner gutter pipe that would carry the rain away from the house. It worked quite well as long as it was connected. However, in Nov. 2005 while we were in SC finalizing the purchase of our home there, torrential rains fell in East Hampton for a week or more. Returning home, we opened the door to a 'swampy' odor which came from the basement. Apparently, in strong winds, the corner gutter pipe had disconnected from the gutter at the edge of the roof, and the water rushed straight down and leaked into the basement. What a mess! The water vacuum sucked up the pool, the fans and dehumidifiers dried the rest, the open windows took care of the smell. Much of what was stored in the area had to be taken to the dump.
In August 2009, while away from home for the day, we came home to find our entire first floor under flood waters. The dishwasher connection had malfunctioned, and water poured from under the sink, saturating everything in its path. $10,000 and four months later, we were back on track.
While water can certainly be important to the world, which we also learned during extreme drought conditions in our area for two Summers, it is also prone to be an enemy. I hope, for the sake of my old friends and neighbors in my native area, that the flood waters subside, leaving them with little expense and damage.
Water is a good thing, but like everything else, when there's too much of it, it can become a nuisance. I remember flying over the flooded Mississippi River back in the early 1990's. Looking from the plane's window, water seemed to be everywhere, and I just couldn't imagine what the residents in those areas were having to deal with. In later years, there was a trecherous flood in Keene, NH where homes on the river were swept off the banks and damage was horrendous. Then there was Hurricane Katrina which caused enormous devastation to the city of New Orleans.
On a much smaller scale, thank Heaven, we've suffered water damage in a few instances. The water table was high on our East Hampton property, and when the Spring rains came after a particularly wet Winter, we'd sometimes get puddles in the basement. We learned how to fix that...placing a ten foot long lead at the end of the corner gutter pipe that would carry the rain away from the house. It worked quite well as long as it was connected. However, in Nov. 2005 while we were in SC finalizing the purchase of our home there, torrential rains fell in East Hampton for a week or more. Returning home, we opened the door to a 'swampy' odor which came from the basement. Apparently, in strong winds, the corner gutter pipe had disconnected from the gutter at the edge of the roof, and the water rushed straight down and leaked into the basement. What a mess! The water vacuum sucked up the pool, the fans and dehumidifiers dried the rest, the open windows took care of the smell. Much of what was stored in the area had to be taken to the dump.
In August 2009, while away from home for the day, we came home to find our entire first floor under flood waters. The dishwasher connection had malfunctioned, and water poured from under the sink, saturating everything in its path. $10,000 and four months later, we were back on track.
While water can certainly be important to the world, which we also learned during extreme drought conditions in our area for two Summers, it is also prone to be an enemy. I hope, for the sake of my old friends and neighbors in my native area, that the flood waters subside, leaving them with little expense and damage.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
I'm Hooked
Wasn't it I who said, "I'll never have a computer!" ? Wasn't it I who could not figure out what was so exciting about video games? Wasn't it I who was so against sitting in front of a keyboard of a screen wasting hours and hours and hours? Yes, I'll admit it...it was I.
These days I do have a computer, in fact I think since I bought my first one in 1996, I've had either four or five of them. I have discovered great joy in computer word games, especially one called Word Builder. If that was the only thing I did on the computer to waste time, it would still be too much time spent. The thing is, it isn't the only thing I do on my laptop. I write emails, and visit with friends via Facebook. I do genealogy research, I write and read blogs, I do a weekly devotional entry for my neighbors church, I check scrapbook and craft sites, I explore decorating options, and I hunt for travel attractions and accommodations. I look up phone numbers for contractors and friends. Honestly, I could spend all day at the keyboard. I usually don't, but there are those days when it's cold and nasty outside, and I'm just not inspired to do any crafting ...or housework.... and before I know it, it's almost dinner time!
I'll fess up. I'm hooked. Hooked up to the world, hooked on the danged information highway. I've got to blame someone, so I'll blame it on all my friends who have gone out to work, leaving me home alone with nary a gal pal in sight to chat with. So...what's a woman to do? Talk to daughters and far away friends via the net, rather than the phone. Being a multi-tasker, it allows me the freedom to chat while I look at pictures or play a game while waiting for slow typists to respond to my statements.
Well, the day is rapidly getting away from me, so I'll close the lid on my little laptop and see if I can find a human to talk to while he rests on the front porch. Believe it or not, I'm much more addicted to him than I am this little black box.
These days I do have a computer, in fact I think since I bought my first one in 1996, I've had either four or five of them. I have discovered great joy in computer word games, especially one called Word Builder. If that was the only thing I did on the computer to waste time, it would still be too much time spent. The thing is, it isn't the only thing I do on my laptop. I write emails, and visit with friends via Facebook. I do genealogy research, I write and read blogs, I do a weekly devotional entry for my neighbors church, I check scrapbook and craft sites, I explore decorating options, and I hunt for travel attractions and accommodations. I look up phone numbers for contractors and friends. Honestly, I could spend all day at the keyboard. I usually don't, but there are those days when it's cold and nasty outside, and I'm just not inspired to do any crafting ...or housework.... and before I know it, it's almost dinner time!
I'll fess up. I'm hooked. Hooked up to the world, hooked on the danged information highway. I've got to blame someone, so I'll blame it on all my friends who have gone out to work, leaving me home alone with nary a gal pal in sight to chat with. So...what's a woman to do? Talk to daughters and far away friends via the net, rather than the phone. Being a multi-tasker, it allows me the freedom to chat while I look at pictures or play a game while waiting for slow typists to respond to my statements.
Well, the day is rapidly getting away from me, so I'll close the lid on my little laptop and see if I can find a human to talk to while he rests on the front porch. Believe it or not, I'm much more addicted to him than I am this little black box.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Spring Songs
She often writes my thoughts...or at least, inspires some. Today she wrote about the 'humming' of Springtime as the world revs up their machines for mowing and blowing, lawn vacuuming and wood chipping. Ahhhh yes...the songs of Spring.
Here in our neighborhood, you can tell it's the weekend in Springtime. All of those John Deere motors are running, as well as a few others. We've got a lot of teenaged boys in our area, and when the weather breaks, they come away from their inside video games and computers, and they bring out the remote controlled cars and the four-wheelers and the motorized dirt bikes. The air-field across the tree line is alive with activity as the model planes soar and dive into the blue skies.
I've got to say that I notice the noise, but it isn't really bothersome. I've always had a knack for sorting sounds, and when I'm outside, sitting on the porch, I seem to naturally separate the natural from the man-made songs. I hear the birds twittering and screeching. I hear the dogs barking at the high pitched motors, I hear the 'dumble' bees. (we call those huge bumble bees that nickname because they are always flying into the porch railing or the house.) I hear the children laughing, or the toddler screaming because he's not allowed to follow the remote controlled car on the street.
At dusk, the activities of the neighbor hide behind the walls of each home, and the world becomes still. The whippoorwill sings and the crickets and cicadas click, but those are the sweet songs of Springtime that bring a peace to the heart in the evening. I think it's my second favorite chorus...the first being the early hours of a quiet morning.
On second thought, maybe those sounds of mowers and blowers and lawn vacs and chippers are bothersome to my ears.
Here in our neighborhood, you can tell it's the weekend in Springtime. All of those John Deere motors are running, as well as a few others. We've got a lot of teenaged boys in our area, and when the weather breaks, they come away from their inside video games and computers, and they bring out the remote controlled cars and the four-wheelers and the motorized dirt bikes. The air-field across the tree line is alive with activity as the model planes soar and dive into the blue skies.
I've got to say that I notice the noise, but it isn't really bothersome. I've always had a knack for sorting sounds, and when I'm outside, sitting on the porch, I seem to naturally separate the natural from the man-made songs. I hear the birds twittering and screeching. I hear the dogs barking at the high pitched motors, I hear the 'dumble' bees. (we call those huge bumble bees that nickname because they are always flying into the porch railing or the house.) I hear the children laughing, or the toddler screaming because he's not allowed to follow the remote controlled car on the street.
At dusk, the activities of the neighbor hide behind the walls of each home, and the world becomes still. The whippoorwill sings and the crickets and cicadas click, but those are the sweet songs of Springtime that bring a peace to the heart in the evening. I think it's my second favorite chorus...the first being the early hours of a quiet morning.
On second thought, maybe those sounds of mowers and blowers and lawn vacs and chippers are bothersome to my ears.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
The Olden Ways: Wash Day
There are days when I'd love to find the door to the past and walk through it, just to see how things really were. It was a slower time, but a busy one. Work was always there to do, even if it was just around the house.
My least favorite chore is the laundry. I don't know why. It's so simple to throw a load into one machine, and when it's finished churning,to toss the clothes into the other one to dry. With permanent press fabrics, there's usually little ironing to do, but I dislike the entire process.
Press rewind. We are now in the 1800's. It's Monday...and the women of the household are doing their laundry. They've built a fire and placed the huge cauldron of water on the hook of the tripod to heat. The white clothes will be set into the boiling water to keep them their whitest. The few items of colored clothing owned by the family are awaiting the strength of the arm muscles to rub them over the corrugated washboard. Then all the wash will be rung out by hand and hung on the line in the air to dry, It doesn't matter how hot the day is, the women must stand by that fire and tiring work must be done.
The garments will be stiff after the sun and wind have sufficiently dried them. The natural fiber items will be full of wrinkles too, from the wringing. One of the girls must heat the cast iron flat iron, being cautious not to burn herself, and the clothing will be ironed free of creases. It will be a full days work.
Weeks before that laundry day, a hog had been slaughtered and butchered. The fat, the lard, had been set aside for the making of the lye soap. This, too, was woman's work.
Suddenly, I'm back in 2010, and grateful to be, as it is time to do my laundry in my quiet front load washer, with the little beeper to tell me when it's finished its agitating, and the 'electric wind machine' which will dry the heaviest of my wash loads. Today, as I think back to my great-grandmother's wash day, my chore doesn't seem half-bad.
My least favorite chore is the laundry. I don't know why. It's so simple to throw a load into one machine, and when it's finished churning,to toss the clothes into the other one to dry. With permanent press fabrics, there's usually little ironing to do, but I dislike the entire process.
Press rewind. We are now in the 1800's. It's Monday...and the women of the household are doing their laundry. They've built a fire and placed the huge cauldron of water on the hook of the tripod to heat. The white clothes will be set into the boiling water to keep them their whitest. The few items of colored clothing owned by the family are awaiting the strength of the arm muscles to rub them over the corrugated washboard. Then all the wash will be rung out by hand and hung on the line in the air to dry, It doesn't matter how hot the day is, the women must stand by that fire and tiring work must be done.
The garments will be stiff after the sun and wind have sufficiently dried them. The natural fiber items will be full of wrinkles too, from the wringing. One of the girls must heat the cast iron flat iron, being cautious not to burn herself, and the clothing will be ironed free of creases. It will be a full days work.
Weeks before that laundry day, a hog had been slaughtered and butchered. The fat, the lard, had been set aside for the making of the lye soap. This, too, was woman's work.
Suddenly, I'm back in 2010, and grateful to be, as it is time to do my laundry in my quiet front load washer, with the little beeper to tell me when it's finished its agitating, and the 'electric wind machine' which will dry the heaviest of my wash loads. Today, as I think back to my great-grandmother's wash day, my chore doesn't seem half-bad.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Our Stories
For the last three Friday evenings, we watched an NBC show called 'Who Do You Think You Are?" It takes one celebrity per show, through their search of their ancestors, and it's actually quite interesting. Sarah Jessica Parker discovered that one of her early great grandmothers was accused at Salem, Massachusetts of being a witch. Fortunately authorities had recently passed the witch hunts off as a hoax, so Sarah's ancestor was spared a hanging, but still, her name appears on the records of those who were accused. Last night a former pro-ball player, an African American, discovered his roots in slavery and that his early great grandmother was the product of a slave named Mariah and her slave owner, meaning that he had some white blood in his family. He stopped his search of that line with Mariah, because of his realization that her mother had more than likely been violated, and then sold off. It was hurtful to him.
These celebrities had no idea when they started their searches that their families had been a part of any historical events in America. They were surprised, impressed, and upset to find some of their historical connections. We all have histories, some may be famous, some may not be as obvious. Some of the stories may be hurtful or upsetting, some may be glorious and noteworthy.
Even though we are not responsible for decisions which brought about the events, it is passed on down the line. Whatever it is, it is ours. It happened, and it is not something we can go back and change. We must embrace it, or hide it in a closet, out of sight, if we so choose....but still, it is our own history.
In my own searches of our family lines, I've discovered many things, occupations and stories. With each new clue leading to facts on record, I am thrilled. I enjoy the investigating, the mysteries, but I am elated when I find an answer. My own family was fairly easy to trace, as the majority of us had stayed in the same area of over 300 years. When I began to work on my husband's line, it was a little more difficult. He knew nothing...he had no information past his own grandparents. But, armed for the challenges, I charged on. We were lucky to have his eldest living relative within 9 miles of us, and she was very willing to give all the information she had. Not only did she have names and places, but she had an attic full of written matter, documents, letters, photos, which aided me greatly when constructing her side of Mike's family history.
His father's side, however, still proves to be somewhat mysterious. His GrGrandfather is my 'brick wall' and I cannot get past him. I'm told he was a young immigrant, coming alone at the age of 14 from England. I have not been able to locate him on ship's passenger lists or with any groups of orphans and waifs. I have his marriage information in 1890. I do have census information back to 1900, showing what information was given to the census taker. However, other years of census does not always line up with the same information or with his social security application. So far, I have not located his parents in England or the United States or Canada. It's one of those things I'll just have to keep looking for.
All in all, I think we're lucky to have as much information as we have about our ancestors. I'm happy that we have as many momentos to place in our books, as these give more 'personality' to the faces who stare at us across the pages...across the ages. I know that it will be more difficult to gather information about our women, but that will be my next undertaking. If I cannot find actual facts regarding the females, I will investigate the times, and add things that would be common to a woman of that day.
Whatever your history, whatever your stories, pass it along. Keep it, for it is part of what shaped you into who you are.
These celebrities had no idea when they started their searches that their families had been a part of any historical events in America. They were surprised, impressed, and upset to find some of their historical connections. We all have histories, some may be famous, some may not be as obvious. Some of the stories may be hurtful or upsetting, some may be glorious and noteworthy.
Even though we are not responsible for decisions which brought about the events, it is passed on down the line. Whatever it is, it is ours. It happened, and it is not something we can go back and change. We must embrace it, or hide it in a closet, out of sight, if we so choose....but still, it is our own history.
In my own searches of our family lines, I've discovered many things, occupations and stories. With each new clue leading to facts on record, I am thrilled. I enjoy the investigating, the mysteries, but I am elated when I find an answer. My own family was fairly easy to trace, as the majority of us had stayed in the same area of over 300 years. When I began to work on my husband's line, it was a little more difficult. He knew nothing...he had no information past his own grandparents. But, armed for the challenges, I charged on. We were lucky to have his eldest living relative within 9 miles of us, and she was very willing to give all the information she had. Not only did she have names and places, but she had an attic full of written matter, documents, letters, photos, which aided me greatly when constructing her side of Mike's family history.
His father's side, however, still proves to be somewhat mysterious. His GrGrandfather is my 'brick wall' and I cannot get past him. I'm told he was a young immigrant, coming alone at the age of 14 from England. I have not been able to locate him on ship's passenger lists or with any groups of orphans and waifs. I have his marriage information in 1890. I do have census information back to 1900, showing what information was given to the census taker. However, other years of census does not always line up with the same information or with his social security application. So far, I have not located his parents in England or the United States or Canada. It's one of those things I'll just have to keep looking for.
All in all, I think we're lucky to have as much information as we have about our ancestors. I'm happy that we have as many momentos to place in our books, as these give more 'personality' to the faces who stare at us across the pages...across the ages. I know that it will be more difficult to gather information about our women, but that will be my next undertaking. If I cannot find actual facts regarding the females, I will investigate the times, and add things that would be common to a woman of that day.
Whatever your history, whatever your stories, pass it along. Keep it, for it is part of what shaped you into who you are.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Body Shop
Some years ago I remember asking my wonderful Dr. White if he knew of a good body shop. He understood my question, completely, and we had a good chuckle. We had just gone over my body parts with a fine tooth comb, and all was well, but I felt as if I was wearing out. I thought if I could replace a few parts where the mechanisms weren't quite as moveable, things would certainly run more efficiently.
Alas, there is no such thing as a convenient 'body parts' store, as there is an automobile parts place. You can't just run in and buy a knuckle or a wrist or a new disk for your spine and figure out a way to insert it yourself. However, the wonderful thing about medicine is that if you do actually need something like a new joint, they are available through the proper channels!
After these last few weeks of nursing my aching back, I've done a lot of thinking about 'realignment.' I believe in chiropractic, but would not even attempt the trip to the office for an adjustment, until the acute muscle pain let up. I thought of every other scenerio, though. I've never had acupuncture because I'm not big on becoming a pin cushion...or worse yet, a voodoo doll. I do believe that it works, because two people close to me have had it in the past, and it brought them great relief. Even knowing that, I cannot bring myself to yield my body to a handful of needles.
And so I remain with the remnants of pain as I rise from a chair using my knees and attempt to work to an upright posture. This morning, once again, I found myself thinking of how wonderful it would be if all the aches and pains could be remedied by an immediate purchase and a simple disconnect/reconnect of things...sort of like changing a battery in a flashlight. Wouldn't that be nice?
Alas, there is no such thing as a convenient 'body parts' store, as there is an automobile parts place. You can't just run in and buy a knuckle or a wrist or a new disk for your spine and figure out a way to insert it yourself. However, the wonderful thing about medicine is that if you do actually need something like a new joint, they are available through the proper channels!
After these last few weeks of nursing my aching back, I've done a lot of thinking about 'realignment.' I believe in chiropractic, but would not even attempt the trip to the office for an adjustment, until the acute muscle pain let up. I thought of every other scenerio, though. I've never had acupuncture because I'm not big on becoming a pin cushion...or worse yet, a voodoo doll. I do believe that it works, because two people close to me have had it in the past, and it brought them great relief. Even knowing that, I cannot bring myself to yield my body to a handful of needles.
And so I remain with the remnants of pain as I rise from a chair using my knees and attempt to work to an upright posture. This morning, once again, I found myself thinking of how wonderful it would be if all the aches and pains could be remedied by an immediate purchase and a simple disconnect/reconnect of things...sort of like changing a battery in a flashlight. Wouldn't that be nice?
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