Archives

A Career Change

Oct18

I looked forward to attending the Rochester Silo convention because for me it was a vacation from my job as a nursing assistant. My husband Arnie and I would stay at a hotel and attend catered events. A few months earlier, Arnie had decided to go into business with a man from Indiana. They named their joint operation, ‘R&R Sales and Services.’ This career change came as a surprise to me. Up until then, my husband had been a welder and had never expressed an interest in becoming a salesman. The new business sold farm equipment and Rochester Siloes. So far, Arnie hadn’t sold a single silo.

All the activities at the convention appeared to be geared toward pumping the salesmen up to a fever-pitch of excitement. The company claimed Rochester Silos were the best silos in the Midwest. They pointed out with pride how their logo could be seen on top of new silos all throughout the countryside. Everyone attending the silo convention was lavished generously with fine foods and drinks.           

To encourage stronger sales, the Rochester company handed out rewards to their most productive salesmen. The pinnacle of the evening was when the top salesman was presented with a briefcase stuffed with cash.

On our long drive home, Arnie uncharacteristically began talking about what he needed to do to become a good salesman. I suspected he was worried about being a good provider for me and the baby we had on the way. At one point he glanced over at me and admitted, “I need to be able to talk to people as easily as you do.” After a slight pause he added, “I want to be able to start conversations with people in elevators like you do.”

I was surprised.. Did he really admire my crazy ability to talk to anyone who would listen?

In the months that followed, Arnie and I were very busy. He worked on making sales and I was entirely wrapped up in all things that had to do with our newly arrived baby daughter. His business papers piled up on the dining room table because we didn’t have a desk. I wanted the use of the table back, so I made two shelves, one on top of the other along a wall next to the table using four boxes and two planks.

Continue reading →

Cup of Comfort

Oct11

On the other end of the phone, a man identified himself as a Hospital Emergency Room doctor. He said, “I’m sorry, but I must inform you that your husband, Arnie Richardson was brought to the hospital in an ambulance an hour ago, but we were unable to save him. He passed away shortly after arriving here.”  My body felt limp and bloodless as I processed the sudden shock at what the doctor told me.

The minute I put down the phone, doubt flooded into my mind. I told myself that the doctor must have accidentally called the wrong wife. The man who was dead was someone else, not my husband. Once I was ushered into an Emergency Room to identify my husband’s body, my initial shock turned into long term shock. Now, I knew with certainty that the unthinkable was true.

I had a job to do; letting family members know what had happened, plan a funeral, and somehow manage to emotionally live through this unwelcome reality. It was as if I was operating on remote control. During that first week after Arnie died, if someone would have asked me to climb Mount Everest, swim the English Channel or fight off a den of hungry lions, I would have mindlessly, mechanically began climbing, swimming, or fighting.

Continue reading →

“The Look”

Oct4

I kneeled when everyone else did, but unlike the adults, most of my body was below the pew. Uncomfortable and bored, I hooked my arm pits over the wooden backrest in front of me and stretched out my arms to flop them about this way and that. Hearing the thumping sounds that I was making, one of the children in the pew ahead of ours turned around to stare at me.

Mom cleared her throat. It wasn’t a normal throat-clearing sound. It was a signal, and I knew I was in trouble. To meet Mom’s gaze, we both had to lean back a little to see around Daddy and one of my sisters who were kneeling between us. Mom didn’t frown. She just looked at me, but her gray eyes somehow managed to flip switches in my conscience. Her look made me feel ashamed of how I was behaving. Knowing I’d caused her to feel disappointed in me was like a heavy weight on my spirit.

Being a sensitive kid, Mom didn’t need to discipline me with spankings, angry scolding’s, time-outs, or suspended privileges. All it took to hurt my feelings and make me want to obey, was her giving me, “The Look”.

Continue reading →

As Fine as Frog Fur

Sep27

I still get perms and I’m lucky enough to have a hairdresser who is happy to do them for me!

Gazing at the salon mirror in front of me, I watched the hairdresser part my hair into sections to wrap around perm curlers. Without my glasses, I couldn’t see fine details, but that didn’t bother me. I knew I was in good hands because my hairdresser once told me she enjoyed giving perms. Not everyone who works in a beauty salon does.

My out-of-focus vision made me feel sleepy. Listening to the low murmur of conversations between other hairdressers and clients was soothing. Watching Lisa my hairdresser, wet a stubborn wisp of hair, I commented, “My hair resists curling.”

 Lisa answered noncommittally, “Your hair is very fine.”

“It’s like baby hair.” I admitted.

Grinning, Lisa confessed, “At the shop here, we call hair that’s very fine, ‘frog fur’.” After snapping the last perm rod shut, she applied perm solution to my hair. Then, covering the curlers with plastic, Lisa stated, “Now we wait for the solution to do its job.”

Continue reading →

When in Rome

Sep20

When I was a child, I loved listening to the radio when Dean Martin sang, “That’s Amore”.

The sun wanted to burn me to a crisp. Quickly gathering as many ground cherries as I could, I hurried into the shady, coolness of the farmhouse. In the kitchen, I dumped my golden treasure onto the table and sat down to take their husks off.

As usual, Mom’s ever-playing radio on the counter was tuned to WDLB, our local station. The DJ announced, “And for all you tender-hearted lovers, here’s ‘Sukiyaki’.” I loved this Japanese song despite not understanding a single word. The tenderness of how it sounded touched my fourteen-year-old heart. At one point the singer whistles the song’s tune. It sounded so beautiful. I wished I knew how to whistle.

From upstairs, Mom’s voice floated down to me, “Kathy, come up here and try on the dress I’m sewing for you.”

When I got upstairs, Mom was still guiding material under the rapidly moving sewing machine needle. I asked, “Mom, can you teach me how to whistle?”

Pulling the material out from under the needle and cutting the thread, Mom turned to me and commented dourly, “Crowing hens and whistling women always come to a bad end.”

Continue reading →

Tweeting Photos

Sep13

I entered the farmhouse and sprinted up the three entryway steps, calling out, “Hello…It’s me, Kathy!”

Mom answered, “I’m in the living room.”

My daughters, Niki and Tammie followed me as I crossed the hall and entered the living room. The young girls happily greeted their “Grammie” and settled down on the floor beside her rocking chair. Dropping down onto the sofa across from where Mom sat in her rocking chair, I inquired, “How are you doing today?”

Adjusting her lap Afghan, Mom admitted, “I’m okay, just saying prayers and listening to the birds.”

Macular degeneration had robbed my mother of her eyesight a few years earlier, so she was no longer able to crochet or read magazines. Cooking meals for herself and my two bachelor brothers who lived with her, was also a thing of the past. Mom would listen to birds feeding at the birdfeeders alongside the house as a happy pastime during the day when “her boys” were out of the house.

Continue reading →

Night Skies

Sep6

Something woke me up from a deep sleep. I tensed up, remembering that I had a four-day-old baby in the next bedroom. Alongside me, my husband slept soundly. He appeared to have no worries about being a new parent. Looking around the dark bedroom, my eyes turned to the windows. The darkness of the yard outside our mobile home appeared less dark than the darkness of the room.

Despite knowing for months that I had a baby on the way, the birth of Niki made me feel surprised and scared! The responsibility of motherhood intimidated me. I wasn’t wise and all-knowing as a mother should be. The bottom line was that I felt like I still needed MY mother!

From the next room, I heard the soft movements of my baby squirming in her crib. Was it that tiny little sound which had awakened me? I held my breath. A moment later, Niki cried. The sound made me leap out of bed like there were springs under me. In a panic, I knew that although it was the middle of the night, I had to feed her and change her diaper. I was responsible for not only her comfort, but her well-being.

The minute I lifted Niki out of her crib, a calm came over me. The smell of her skin, the warmth of her body against mine felt so right. After feeding her, I placed my baby over my shoulder and patted her back. Standing at one of the windows waiting for Niki to burp, I marveled at the beauty of the night sky. Stars sparkled across the great expanse overhead. To the north I saw a tongue of green light licking the sky. I gasped. Northern lights! At first the moving wave looked green, then blue and later I saw a tinge of pink.

Continue reading →

Growing With the Times

Aug23

I pulled the refrigerator door open and looked for possible snacks. Mom, energetically kneading a large ball of bread dough at the kitchen counter, asked without pausing, “What are you looking for?”

Reaching for a plastic-covered metal bowl on the middle shelf, I announced, “I want the leftover chocolate tapioca pudding.”

Still kneading, Mom protested, “I thought that could be dessert with our next meal.”

Looking at the contents of the bowl, I said doubtfully, “It doesn’t look like there’s enough for everybody.”

Mom rapidly cut and rolled small balls of dough for buns as she answered, “Someone must have snacked on the pudding last night after supper. Go ahead then, eat the rest of it.”

With the bowl in one hand, I slammed the refrigerator door shut. Until now, I thought that the round-shouldered refrigerator was large. Suddenly, I realized that I had grown taller than it. Dropping down onto a red vinyl and chrome chair at our kitchen table, I commented with mixed emotions, “Mom, I’m getting really tall.”

Turning away from the pans of raising buns, Mom said, “You’ve grown like a weed the last few months. Ever since you started fifth grade. I’ve been sewing new school dresses for you every week, trying to keep up.”

Putting down a spoonful of pudding, I worriedly questioned, “Is that normal? How tall am I going to get?”

Mom reassured me that I’d grow as tall as the other girls in the family. Daddy walked into the kitchen then, and announced, “I’m going into town to grind oats for cow feed. Do you need me to get you anything?”

“Yes,” Mom said, “Bring meat home from the locker. I want a roast and two packages of hamburger.” Daddy nodded agreeably as he turned to leave.

Continue reading →

Garden Bingo

Aug16

The sun came out as soon as the rain stopped falling. I slipped out of the back door of the house and took a deep breath. The air felt fresh and clean. A full color rainbow stretched across the sky from one horizon to the other. Droplets of water glistened on blades of grass and tree leaves. Rivulets of water dripped off the hoop building garden, and garage.

The heat earlier in the afternoon had made me stay inside the house. Now, all I wanted was to walk through the yard, despite how wet my feet would get. I wanted to see how the flower beds and garden were doing. Slipping on an old pair of shoes, I stepped off the back deck. The wet grass felt deliciously cool. As I crossed the lawn, I mused, “Gardening is like playing bingo. Getting all my flowerbeds and the garden weeded at the same time is like getting five chips in a row, thus winning the game.”

I checked the front of the garden first. Seeing the freshly weeded first row of plants made me smile. It looked nice and well cared for. That was one chip.

Continue reading →

New Life

Aug9

I tossed my car keys onto the kitchen counter and announced, “While I was in town today, I bought a new tree for us to plant in the yard.”

My husband Arnie was leaning against the sink eating a summer sausage and cheese sandwich. He asked, surprised, “Why would you do that? We have more than enough trees in and around our yard.”

My husband was right, there were a lot of trees around our house. To the west, we had seven trees along the road. To the north ran an entire row of pine trees. On the east side of the property stood a small forest of white pine trees which had been planted by Arnie and my brother in 1981. On the south side ran the Little Eau Pleine River. Its banks are lined with oak trees, box elder and sumac. Most of the trees around our house are pine, except for a flowering crabapple, a white birch, and a mountain ash which were planted close to the house a long time ago.

Standing next to Arnie, I looked out the kitchen window and explained, “Ever since you made a second driveway to our yard, the small field south of the house has been turned into a lawn. It looks empty. I want the new maple tree planted there, right in the center.”

Continue reading →