Autographs

Have you ever collected Autographs?  No, I don't mean those of classmates and family, in a book made for that purpose, thought I have two of those from my teen years.  I'm thinking more of signatures from celebreties or famous people that have made their way  into your presence.

When I was cleaning out a box one day, I discovered a few slips of paper which bore the names of Roy Scheider, Robert Morse, and Paul McCartney.  Mr. Scheider was an actor, best known for his role in the movie "Jaws".  Robert Morse is an actor who's been on Broadway, TV and in movies.  Most everyone knows who Paul McCartney is, and since he is the most famous, and my favorite autograph giver, I'll share the story of how I obtained his signature.

It was 1978, I believe. I had  my 4 year old, Amy, with me. Since she was the only one of my five children who were with me, I'm thinking we might have been to her eye doctor appointment. On the way home from whereever we'd been, we stopped at a department store, Woolco, in the Bridgehampton shopping center. As we approached the entrance of the store, there was a crowd of people there, and one of them told me that Paul McCartney, and his wife, Linda were in the store. I didn't believe it!  They pointed out a wood-sided station wagon which was parked in the fire zone and I was told it was the singers' car.

Amy and I went into the store, and spotted Paul and Linda in the check out line, with a large orange foot locker.  I took Amy's hand, and we went back outside as I told her that he was a famous singer and that we had some of his music at home. She knew who the Beatles were, even at the young age. I asked her to watch the door, and when she saw the man with the big 'orange suitcase' come out, to yell, "Hi Paul McCartney!"  (oh! the things that mothers put their kids up to at times!)  So, being my good little girl, she did just that when the couple came outside.

Paul decided he'd play this game with Amy. He walked toward us, in the direction of his car, as he turned his head from side to side, pretending to look for the little voice who had said his name. As he did, he said, "Paul McCart-en-eee, Paul McCart-en-eee, WHERE'S Paul McCart-en-eee?" saying it just the way Amy had.  He bent down low, so he was eye to eye with Amy, as she hid behind my legs and looked over her glasses at Paul. He said, "Are youuuuuuuuu Paul McCart-en-eee?"  She continued to look over her glasses at him, while she shook her head and pointed to him.  He stood up, and stood in front of me smiling. I stammered, "I used to be one of your biggest fans" (meaning when he was a Beatle...I hadn't gotten into the music of his current group, "Wings".) DUH...how dumb did I look?!  He grinned, understanding my nervousness, and he joked, " Used to be? USED to be?!  Well, don't stop NOW!" I said something like, "of course I won't!" and he handed me his autograph!  Siiiiiiigh....what a sweet memory!

 I once asked Alan Alda for his signature. He was shopping in the IGA in Bridgehampton when I saw him that day. I'd let two other opportunities pass when I'd seen him earlier that year, and I wasn't going to let this one go with a try.  So, when he was standing in the aisle, reading the ingredients on a box of cereal, I approached him, shyly and respectfully asked, "Excuse me, Mr. Alda, I wonder if I might have your autograph?"  He looked down his nose, over his half-lensed glasses, and said, "I'm sorry, I don't give autographs, but I will shake your hand."  Well, ok, I thought, I'll take what I can get.  I had seen many of his movies and liked watching him on tv on "Mash" and I was somewhat disappointed that I couldn't get that little slip of paper with his name on it.

But, I also understand that these are just regular people are doing a job which makes them famous. They may want to live as normally as other people do, but they're often hounded by fans or photographers. It must get annoying at times.  On the other hand, they make a good deal of money at what they do, and it is because of the fans that they are paid so well for their work.  So, they must expect this following of theirs and not expect to live peacefully when they're 'big name' people.

Ah well, I've not seen a famous person in many years, and even when I did while I lived in the resort area where many would vacation or reside, I left them alone.  I suppose I'd outgrown the desire to collect signatures, or maybe I felt that I'd reached the ultimate in the procurring of Paul McCartney's autograph! I still treasure it, but one day it will find it's way into Amy's scrapbook with the written memory I have of that day.  She knows, today, who he is, but does not remember  that afternoon.

Today's Thoughts

This morning, my mind swims with thoughts....nothing terribly cohesive, I'm afraid.

Utmost in my mind, of course, is my daughter, who remains in the hospital at the moment, following her surgery on Thursday.  Apparently, the appendix was quite seriously infected. Amy said that the medical people called in 'gangrenous'. Doesn't sound good, as it means 'gangreen'.  So...they want her to stay until they get a good hold on that infection.  I hope she'll take her meds faithfully to the end once she gets home.

She's so ready to be there in her own bed, in order to get some sleep. She's so tired!  I have asked her if she wants me to come up there (9 states away) to help her as she recovers. She assures me that she's got a good number of friends at the ready to stay through the day and be there at night, too, if needed. Since she's a single Mom of a young teen and preteen, there are driving needs to be taken care of, not to mention laundry and meals and other household chores.  I could be of help, and feel a little 'unneeded' as she tells me, "No, Mommy...stay home and plant pretty gardens." She added a smile and told me she loved me.   

I know she's got an army of wonderful friends surrounding her, as well as her younger sister/best friend.  I don't know what any of us would do without knowing that Meg is there and in control of it all. As my youngest, she could be a spoiled baby-type, even at the age of 35 yrs, but she's not. She's a strong, independent woman who can take charge when the need arises, and she did in this matter.  I'm proud of her... and of Amy too.

There are so many characters in this play, I just realized. Amy, the lead star, Megan, her supporting actress, not to mention the youngsters. The older daughter, Kimberly, was there at the start of this illness, and she took charge of things herself. She told her mother to go to bed and that she'd get her younger sister into bed at the right time, so she would get up on time for school.  Later that evening, she took her Mom's temperature, and seeing the continued pain, told her mother that she was going to the emergency room, and immediately made a call to their friend, a former EMT. From there, Megan arranged someone to stay with the girls, while she took Amy to the hospital. The rest is history previously  told.

It's hard to live so far from family in a 'crisis', but this mother knows that things are well in hand back home.  I know that there is no point in worrying when you are not able to do anything to help from such a distance.  So, I stand ready to make the roadtrip north, should anyone decide that I'm wanted there.  I wanted to go anyway, but sometimes too many people cause more confusion.  So, I wait, keeping a phone close by at all times, to hear the 'breaking news' as it happens.

Before long Amy will be healed enough to be on her own again, and back to work soon after. Days will return to normal and this will all fade into the background of memories.  Meanwhile, it appears that things are going well and  being dealt with as they arise, and I can be just an audience in this production. I applaud all of those involved for their performances: Mother, sister, daughters, friends, doctors, nurses, and all others involved. They're all doing a fine job!

You Never Know...

What a day will bring.  Past the end of the day yesterday, and two hours after I'd gone to bed, the telephone rang.  At midnight, the ringing phone brings fear to a slumbering soul, and I raced to find out what was happening. My youngest daughter in NY was calling to say that she'd taken her sister to the emergency room, and that she had appendicitis. Surgery would be this morning.

She had everything under control up there, taking her two neices home with her for the night, and would be sure they got to school in the morning. She's got a good head on her shoulders and said she didn't think I should make a bee line for NY. It's a good thing, because our area was under a tornado watch.

 I turned on the TV, and we watched for awhile to see what was happening in our area for the weather. We discussed the surgery and possible trip to NY.  Of course, with all that on my mind, I couldn't sleep. I used the time to pray and trust God to keep all of us safe in our respective situations, including my other family near the Atlanta area, which was in danger of a sighted tornado.  Prayers were flying...for hours, as the thunder rumbled across the dark skies and the lightning flashed long and bright against the night.

Finally I fell asleep, dreaming that we were babysitting for a 14 month old baby in our church.  I saw myself clearly packing for NY, and taking the baby with us, as there wasn't time to give her back to her parents.  I called them (in my dream) to let them know she was fine and with us in NY, and to ask what kind of formula I needed to buy for her bottles.

I was awakened with a start, again, at 6:30 this morning, again by a phone call from the NYer.  She was letting me know that the hospitalized daughter wanted me to call her 'right now.'   I did... and she bellowed when she heard my voice.  I guess, even at the age of thirty-seven, a girl still needs her Mama when she doesn't feel well or is overwhelmed with the financial stuff this will cause.  I tried to calm her down and let her know that we'd work all that our later, that today, with pain, stress and no sleep was not the time to concern herself with those matters.

As I type this, I still don't know what time her surgery will be. I think, maybe, that she's in surgery or pre-surgery right now, as I called her cell phone and left a message, and she hasn't responded.
I know she'll be fine, but I would so love for this to be over for her. All of us have her on our hearts today, and will be glad to hear that she's in recovery or back in her room, and resting as well as she can be, to begin her weeks of recovery.

And so, I sit by the house phone and keep the cell close too.  Sometime today I will hear the words I need to hear. Meanwhile, I'm trying to lay my trust and my daughter into the hands of our Great Physician. 

To be continued.

I DID It!!!

I've been wanting to redecorate my blog page and didn't know how.  One blogger that I visit often renews her page very frequently, and she offered me some insights. Although I've still not mastered her instructions, I was able to do some renovating, and I quite like it! 

I've also found that it's a good bit of fun to find new 'wall paper' and try it out before 'sticking' it to the wall of the page.  It's time consuming, to say the least, to 'shop' for new accessories and things to make the blog look nicer than it has, but what fun to find something new to look at! Now that I know how to make a few changes, I'll be attempting it again on my other blog, very soon.

All this reminds me  of a time back in the early-90's when I had an overwhelming desire to paint. I'd tried all my life to paint pictures that looked like something other than kindergarten art. I lamented to my husband whom I was dating at the time. I said, "I wish I could paint."  He said, "If you want to, paint!"  He continued to encourage me, and when my daughter bought me a gift of acrylic paints, I got some good brushes and attempted my hobby again. Eventually I got better, and happier, with my endeavors. I must say, I've still not mastered the art, but I can bring something out that wouldn't look completely at home on the bulletin board of my granddaughter's classroom! 

So, I'd like to say thank you to Auntie for her help and encouragement in the redecorating! Without her supportive words, I'd still be looking at blah tan with the birds flying across the top!  I'd like to thank my husband, again, for encouraging me to do what I'd like to do, and not just say, "I can't" or "I wish..." .  

The moral of the story,  if you want to do something, give it a try. Work at it. Don't limit yourself with your own disbelief in yourself, or the fact that you don't know how. Pull up your big girl panties and TRY it! Learn something new!  You will never do it, that's for sure, if you don't give it a shot.

Beauty of the Finest Kind...

The other day the skies here were awesome!  There was a storm off to the southwest, and it was heading toward  us. The clouds were dark and layered. The ones closest to the ground were small pillows, with an look on the surface.  I likened it to the way marshmallows look when they are lightly toasted by a hot fire...blistered.

Yesterday I sat on the porch for awhile, in the 80 degree heat. There was enough humidity so that the air was permeated with the fragrance of the rose bushes in the garden beside the porch railing. I couldn't sit still, after a little bit.  I had to go to the blooms and put my nose into the flower to breathe in the soft, powdery scent.  From there, I left the porch, walked along the garden beds toward the back of the house, breathing deeply through my nose, so as not to miss a drop of perfumed air.  The closer I got to the back yard, the more I realized that the fragrances of the wild roses, the antique roses, the mock orange bush and the wild honeysuckle vine were all laying on the slight breeze.   What a marvelous stroll it was!

The bumble bees were seemingly drunk as they randomly wove their way from bloom to bloom. (We call them Dumble bees, because they constantly run into the gutters on the facia and the walls of the house.)  Not only were they erratic in their flight, but as noisy, too, as I've ever heard them.
The various birds that visit were chattering, chirping, cheeping and whistling, showing off their pleasure in the glorious weather.

Who could blame them?  Spring has definitely come to South Carolina, and with her arrival, she's brought along beauties of the finest kind!  I surveyed my gardens with a grateful eye, rather than noticing the weeds that were left behind in our early Fall clean up.  I saw nothing except the fruits of our labors since we moved here four and half years ago.  I did not think about the many dollars spent on bags of dirt and fertilizer or the hours of hauling it to and fro in the yard with the wagon and wheelbarrow.  I did not feel the burning pain of the work as we dug and struggled with the native, heavy, red clay.  I knew only that the gardens were rejoicing in the bright, warm sun, and so was I!

Church Attire...

When I was a youngster, the approved wardrobe was the very best in your closet. This included for the female population, both young and old, ankle socks or nylons for the adults, unscuffed shoes, most probably patent leather, hats, little white gloves and always dresses.  The little and big gents always wore suits,ties and well-polished shoes. The hair  was just perfectly coiffed and the boys' short locks were glued down with gel or Brylcream, parted, and combed into just the right wave.

What has happened to all of that? It's gone by the wayside, like manners and respect, I suppose. Dressing in your best for church was expected; it was a matter of respect for God to look your best.  These days, I've seen everything from blue jeans and short sleeved shirts on men to tank tops and shorts which should have been quite a bit longer to be considered modest in any public area other than the beach. Personally, I don't approve of shorts of any length in church...or tank tops, unless covered by a jacket.  I don't know when the dress code became a free-for-all, and I'm not a huge fan of the changes. 

I do wear dress slacks and a nice blouse, sweater or jacket at times. I have abandoned the hats and gloves, as have other women, even older ladies than I.  The men in our church usually don't wear ties and jackets, but most do, and those who do not still wear nice slacks and shirts, often with sweater vests. 

Yesterday, and last Easter Sunday as well, one of our congregation wore a hat. Last year, she sang the special solo music, and she prefaced her song by saying, "If you're short and want to stand out in any crowd, wear a hat."  Yesterday she kept saying that she was hoping to get women to wear hats again. I, for one, LOVE hats!  I am complimented whenever I've worn one of any kind, so they apparently suit my look.  They always seem to 'dress up' an outfit, or just 'top it off', so to speak. 

I think that I will pull one out of my stash, and wear one next week to church.  Perhaps Sandra and I will start a new trend, and hats will be a fun accessory to bring back!  You can keep the gloves, however...and the seamed nylon hose.  

What do you think about hats? Do you like them or not? Where would you/do you wear them, if you do?  Shall I wear a hat next Sunday...even if I stand alone in the fashion statement?  I think a survey is in order, so feel free to share your opinions. 

A Special Day

It is Easter ....the celebration for Christians of a resurrected Savior.  A day of Hope for believers.

It is also the birthday of two very special people in my life.  My brother, Tom, had he lived, would be sixty-one years old. My youngest daughter, Meg, will be thirty-five years old.  I was only two and a half when Tom was born, so I cannot remember the day of his arrival. But, I remember the coming of Megan.  She was four days earlier than she was predicted to be. 

Tom was very much attuned to life as he was raised. Though his own was traveled on different roads, his heart was always geared to living it in conventional ways that were taught by our parents.  He was a gentle man with soft brown eyes and soft curly dark hair. He was tall and thin, and he was plagued with rheumatoid arthritis from the time he was in his twenties until he passed away four years ago. The ailment sapped his energies, and put him on permanent disability status, but still he worked as he could on his 47 acres. He cared for his small house lot and his home. He mowed with a tractor, kept his landscaping simple and easy to care for.  He had a sure determination that kept him walking on his own two feet, unaided by cane or wheelchair for the entirety of his life.  Doctors thought he would long ago be in a wheelchair, full-time, but Tom wouldn't entertain that idea.  His gnarled joints were painful, yet he didn't complain. He did what he could to keep his life as  normal as possible, in spite of the limitations.

Megan has always had her own agenda. As I said earlier, she came four days early, and rather than the usual presentation at birth, she chose to be born face up!  "Sunny side up" the doctor said. She was a strong willed little person, and was quite a challenge for me, at times.  I remember when she had her fifth birthday. She announced to me that now she would go to 'big school'....to kindergarten.  I could not convince her that the school wouldn't let her go until September, and that she would continue at her nursery school until June, then have the summer off, until September came.  She would not go to nursery school another day. The fight was so strong, and silly,  that I let her off the hook.  I learned how, with Meg, to choose my battles.

She always has made her own choices about things, even when she was small. Of course there were times when I had  to enforce the rules or make her do what was best for her. But, she chose her clothing and her favorite foods. I offered other options, but how do you force a child to eat lima beans when they won't?  She has forever been a free thinker, and is such today.  Some might say that there was rebellion, and I might agree with that in certain instances. But, what harm is there, really, in shaving the sides of your head, around your ears, and pulling back the top hair in an elastic band at the crown?  What does it hurt if she sprayed it purple or blue? Hair grows out. Hair color washes out. And teenagers grow out of that stuff, thankfully.

My sweet, gentle, conservative, brother was thrilled to have this little neice born on his birthday. So was I.  I felt that God had given both Tom and me a gift  when she arrived.  I still feel that way.
My challenging, free thinking little girl has grown into a beautiful woman with good sense and comical personality. She doesn't always think as I do, but I don't want my kids to be a bunch of cookie cutter kids.  The world would never change for the better if someone didn't step out of line once in awhile and make their different ideas known, would it?

So Tom...Happy Birthday to you. I miss you and love you.  Megan....Happy Birthday to you, too. I wish I could share a face to face celebration with both of you today. But know this, that I celebrate you both in my heart and in my mind, and have been blessed to have had you both in my life.  Enjoy your day!