Archives

Bathing A Cat

Jan22

Scrolling through Instagram, I came across a video of cats being bathed in water by their owners. Some of the animals were docile and cooperative. I commented to my daughter Tammie, “Are these cats for real? And why do the cat owners think cats need baths?”

Tammie defended cat bathing, “Hairless Sphinx cats need to be bathed. They have body oils that need to be washed away. They don’t have hair like other cats, which wicks oil off the skin. There are also other cats with hair like Turkish Vans that enjoy being in water.”

 Unconvinced, I pointed out, “Some cats might like baths, but most turn into screeching, shredding, high-speed rockets whenever someone tries to put them into water. Didn’t you and your sister Niki try to bathe one of our cats when you were kids?”

Nodding, my daughter admitted, “Yes. We tried to bathe Berry.”

Remembering our cat Berry makes me smile. My eight- and twelve-year-old daughters and I found him as an older kitten along our country road one late summer afternoon. We named him Berry because he had been hiding under an elderberry bush.

Our ten-year-old tom cat named Flicker made very little fuss when we added this new feline to the household menagerie. After a while, the two cats grew to like each other so much that they often slept curled around each other. Both cats were tuxedo cats, so it was hard to tell where one cat started and the other left off. They resembled one big furry kitty puddle.

Someone once asked me how I could tell Flicker and Berry apart. While they did look alike from a distance, with a closer look it was easy to see that Flicker had black fur on his nose and muzzle, while Berry had white fur in those places.

One day when Berry was still a new member of the family, and we were playing with him in the backyard, he showed us his belly for scratches and pets. He was happy and comfortable, so he stretched and rolled around on the dusty driveway. His crisp looking white fur picked up dust and grass clippings from the lawn. Niki and Tammie decided their new kitty needed a bath. I stated, “Cats don’t need baths.” The girls insisted that the cat would love being washed clean in a bath. I retorted, “We never bathed cats on the farm I grew up on.”

Continue reading →

Frog Monster

Jan8

My daughter Niki snuggled down under the covers in her bed. Her younger sister, Tammie, reluctantly crawled into her bed. I turned on a small nightlight on the dresser, then leaned over to pick up clothing from the floor that had been cast off in favor of night clothes. Tammie sat upright to point out, “You forgot to shut the closet door.”

I thought, “That’s nice. Tammie likes having the room look neat at bedtime.”

Niki dismissed that idea when she sleepily commented, “Tammie wants the frog monster to stay in the closet.”

This was the first I’d heard about a frog monster! I looked closely at my youngest daughter. She didn’t look too worried. I asked, “Where did the monster come from? Tell me about it.”

Tammie shrugged as she outlined what she knew about the frog. “I don’t know where the frog came from. He wears a crown and is six feet tall.”

Sleepiness gone, Niki rolled on her side and added with a giggle, “It carries a large trident like Neptune.”

I was impressed. How many children have closet monsters that are six-feet-tall and carry the three-pronged weapon of a Roman sea god? I inquired, “Are you afraid of this giant frog monster?”

Both of my daughters denied being afraid. Tammie informed me, “The frog doesn’t bother us if the closet door is closed.”

Continue reading →

Improving Myself

Dec31

Activity on the nursing unit had slowed down. Afternoon sunshine peeked into the rooms on the west side of the building. The early in the day hustle-bustle of changing beds and bathing patients, combined with doctor rounds, breakfast and lunch tray delivery and pick-up was over. By two in the afternoon the atmosphere in the halls was mellow as patients either napped or had visitors. Few patients put on their call lights during this time.

The charge nurse looked up from the clipboard in her hands and said, “Kathy, I’m giving you a patient in room 25. Admitting just brought her up.”

I collected supplies to give to the patient, then I wheeled my computer and blood pressure machine into the room. The patient was a well-dressed older woman who was scheduled to have surgery the following morning. Having conversations with total strangers has never been hard for me to do, so we got along very well. Just as I was preparing to leave the room, she asked me, “How long have you been a Certified Nursing Assistant?”

When I tell people the answer to this question, they are usually surprised. I started when I was eighteen. I smiled and confessed, “At the end of September, I will have worked at this hospital for 45 years.”

The newly admitted patient looked shocked. She blurted, “Didn’t you ever want to improve yourself, to become a nurse?”

Her question seemed strange. How was I supposed to respond to questions like that? She most likely considered being a Certified Nursing Assistant to be a low value, unimportant job. I decided to treat the situation with humor, so I chuckled, “Improve myself? Why would I want to do that? I’m so nice the way I am!”

Continue reading →

Amazing Grace

Dec24

After the nurse stepped out of the room, I stared at the ceiling over my bed. My ears were on high alert for the sounds of nurses passing my room in the hallway and their murmured conversations. Nightime darkness shrouded the curtained window, but the pale hallway light sent mysterious, elongated shadows deep into the room. It was one o’clock in the morning and I was exhausted from having just given birth, but sleep was the last thing on my mind.   

Having given birth, I was now a mother to a tiny, helpless infant. When I thought about motherhood, what came to mind was my mom and Mary, mother of Jesus. I wasn’t even in Mom’s league, let alone Mary’s. Giving birth had elevated me into a sphere that was too lofty for a nineteen-year-old who’d never even had the experience of babysitting to attain. Mom and Mary knew so much, while I knew nothing, and yet here I was, a mother, just like them.           

My motherhood hadn’t been a surprise. I’d known a baby was on the way for nearly the entire nine months of my pregnancy. Delving deep into my amazement, I realized the shock I felt was the sudden intense feeling of responsibility for the new soul my husband and I had brought into the world. Up until now the only person I ever had to take care of was myself. Maintaining a house, a marriage and my employment in the very hospital unit where I was now a patient, didn’t seem like anything more than taking care of myself. But now I had a helpless person to look after for the next eighteen years! The immensity of this reality had never dawned on me until now.

Continue reading →

Last Laugh

Dec18

Arnie always told me I was pretty.

We were the same age when he died in 2007. Now I am 18 years older than him.

Will he still think I am pretty when we meet in the here-after?

The digital clock on the stove showed four, but the dimming daylight made it feel like it was eight. My husband called home a while ago and said he would be home soon. We were having roast beef for supper. I opened the oven door to check on its progress, and a blast of heat made me turn my face away. The metal necklace around my throat began to feel hot against my skin. The beef roast looked brown, juicy and tender.

Tossing potholders on the counter, I turned toward the kitchen windows in time to see Arnie driving his work truck and trailer into our driveway. All the lights and reflectors on his rig looked impressive in the late afternoon’s growing darkness. Remembering that today my husband had had fresh lettering applied on his truck and trailer, I slipped into a pair of shoes and pulled on a coat as I hurried out the back door of the house to see it.

Arnie pulled to a stop under the yard light, which automatically turned on just as I walked across the yard. Stepping out of the truck cab, he proudly questioned, “How does it look?”

Both sides of his truck and trailer displayed the words, ‘Arnie’s Farm Care’. His cell and home phone numbers were listed under his business’ name. “Beautiful!” I exclaimed. “The letters are large and easy to see. The garage did a good job!”

Continue reading →

Floor Polish and Paint

Dec11

I sat cross-legged on one of the red vinyl and chrome kitchen chairs, watching Mom at the kitchen counter vigorously kneading bread dough. Christmas was next week but I felt like I couldn’t stand the suspense until the big day! I knew better than to complain that time was passing too slowly. Mom’s answer to that was, “Stop wishing your life away!” I stared at the large red and black Stratford State Bank calendar hanging on the side of a cupboard. Some of my nine-year-old classmates at school talked about having their trees up already, but I knew our tree would not be put up until the afternoon of December 24th.

I perked up when the back door slammed. A minute later my 20-year-old brother, Billy, stepped into the house. He was carrying a can of paint. He announced, “I’m going to give the entrance a fresh coat of paint.”

Mom questioned with surprise, “Does it really need a fresh coat of paint?

Grinning, Billy explained, “It could probably wait, but Christmas isn’t Christmas for me unless I can smell fresh paint.”

“How strange”, I thought, “What does paint have to do with Christmas?” I looked forward to things like listening to WDLB, the local radio station. Besides Christmas songs, during the weeks leading up to Christmas, they had a program every evening devoted to someone reading the letters to Santa that children mailed to them. Then, there was my family’s Christmas cookie decorating night, a tradition carried out each year within a week or two of Christmas.

The cookie night had taken place just last evening. When I came home from school yesterday afternoon, the house smelled of freshly baked cookies. Mom had filled a large roaster to overflowing with cut-out cookies. It took Mom, my sisters and I all evening to decorate them. My brothers even decorated a few when they came in from doing barn chores.

Remembering not only the cookies, but Sister Florence’s instructions on how to correctly use the words, “may and can”, I politely requested, “Mom, may I please have a Christmas cookie to eat?”

Continue reading →

Redeemed Souls

Dec4

Mom watched me reach into my cereal bowl to take another candy. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the kitchen table and commented, “Saint Nicholas was very generous with you again this year.” Today, the feast of Saint Nicholas was a red-letter day. I circled December 6th on the calendar each year and looked forward to it with excitement. It didn’t matter that I no longer believed in Santa Claus, now that I was eleven years old. I enjoyed the yearly tradition of receiving pre-Christmas candy.

Happily chewing the chocolate-covered caramel I’d just popped into my mouth, I grinned and agreeably answered, “Oh! Yes!” but with my mouth so full, my words sounded more like I had hummed them. Early winter darkness had settled over our farmyard an hour ago. Daddy and my brother Billy were in the barn milling the cows.

Last night at bedtime, my brothers and sisters placed cereal bowls on the kitchen table where we usually sit to eat meals, as we do each December 5th. We put letters to Santa in the bowls, in which we tell him what gifts we want to receive for Christmas. During the night, Saint Nicholas takes the letters and fills our bowls with peanuts, candy canes, and chocolate bridge mix.

I found my treat-filled bowl this morning when I came down to eat breakfast. Mom let me have a few pieces of candy, but said I had to leave the rest until after school. I thought about eating candy all day!

My classmates and I were restless all day at school and had a hard time keeping our minds on the lessons our teacher, Mrs. Miller, wanted us to learn. Then there was a big surprise after the afternoon recess. When we filed back into our classroom, we found small brown paper bags on every desk. The bags were from Saint Nichloas, and contained oranges, candy canes, popcorn balls, Christmas taffy, and peanuts.

Continue reading →

Necessary but Thankless Jobs

Nov27

Daddy stood up and pushed back his chair. He addressed my brother, Billy, “Time for us to get going. Our cows are waiting to be milked.”

Glancing around at all the used supper dishes on the table, Mom addressed my sisters, Betty and Mary, “Time for us to get to work, too. The supper dishes need to be washed.”

I turned to leave the kitchen, but Betty stopped me in my tracks by demanding, “What about Kathy? Why do Mary and I always have to wash and dry the dishes? She’s old enough to take a turn!”

Grabbing a kettle filled with kitchen scraps off a kitchen counter, I announced, “I’m taking this out to feed the pigs.” Everyone in my family knew I absolutely hated washing dishes and threw a fit whenever I was forced to do it. I usually got away with this avoidance tactic because I was the spoiled baby of the family. Besides, up till then, there had always been plenty of others to do the jobs that I hated. Unfortunately, the dynamics of our family were changing now that the oldest siblings were leaving home.

Mom sighed and nodded. “Kathy, I’ll help you do the dishes tonight.” Mary and Betty disappeared before I was able to melt down into full tantrum mode.

Continue reading →

Living In Denial

Nov20

There are no mice in my house!

I schlepped a bag of Goodwill donations out to my SUV in the backyard garage. Unwilling to make a second trip, I also carried a large, reusable grocery bag, my ten-pound purse and a water bottle. Stowing everything in the vehicle, I thankfully slid behind the wheel and pressed the car’s start button. Recognizing me, or rather, the key fob in my purse, the engine in the smart car immediately jumped to life.

I shifted to reverse and backed out of the garage. The engine of my car usually purrs like a kitten, but not today. It was going, “Ugha-ugha-ugha!” Then, an unfamiliar computer message on the dashboard suddenly popped up on the screen.

Forgetting the errands I had planned to do; I drove straight to the dealership where I had bought the car. After the mechanic there did a brief examination, he said, “There’s a mouse nest in the engine compartment and the mice who live there chewed on several important wires and harnesses that bundle the wires together. Your car isn’t safe to be driven until it’s fixed.”

There was a distinct, dirty smell of mouse droppings in the car when it came back from the garage. Why hadn’t I noticed that smell before it needed fixing? Maybe it was the power of suggestion. My ability to smell things other than orange peels and basil is very poor.

One day that week I found a dead mouse in the trunk. Picking it up with two pieces of cardboard and putting it in the garbage can, I reflected on what the mechanic said I could do to repel mice. Apparently, to dissuade mice from setting up a home in the engine compartment again, I should stuff dryer sheets in various nooks and crannies around the engine. He never told me where to tuck the dryer sheets. I worried that if I put them in the wrong place, I’d cause an engine compartment fire!

Continue reading →

Adulthood Crash Course

Nov13

I parked in front of Stratford’s Allington & Van Ryzen Red Owl store and sat for a moment before getting out of the car. The damp, overcast sky made the day feel like it was much later in fall, and not just a chilly end of August afternoon. Clutching my purse, I slowly walked up the steps to enter the small-town general store. My mission that afternoon was to shop for and buy a pair of khaki pants.

At seventeen years of age, the only preparation for adulthood that I had made was to learn how to drive a car and get my license. Many of the activities that most teenagers experience were not checked off in my life. I had never cooked a meal, thought about what I wanted to do after graduating from high school, entered a store by myself to buy clothing, experimented with makeup, or gone on a date. I was far behind the social development of other kids my age.

Perhaps the reason I was so far behind had to do with my being the youngest of a large family, living in the country on a farm, being an introverted person. I felt afraid of adulthood and thought it was too far a stretch for me. 

Pausing for a moment after entering the store, I glanced around appreciatively. To my right was the grocery side of the store. Although it was small with about four short aisles, there was a refrigerated counter along the back wall with a butcher there, cutting and packaging meat. The check-out register was next to the entrance. I smiled, remembering the times I visited the store with Mom and my sister’s boyfriend was working at the cash register. He liked to joke and tease people, and it felt like he was a big brother even before he really was.

Continue reading →