When the daughter was a Senior in high school she came home one day all excited. Mom, she said, the Italian club at school is sponsoring a boys high school hockey team from Italy and they are looking for families to host a hockey player. Now mind you ny daughter didn't even take Italian, she took Spanish in high school. So the next thing she tells me is that she volunteered our home and she really didn't have a chance to ask me first and she just knew it would be ok because, THESE BOYS DON'T SPEAK ENGLISH AND HER GRANDPARENTS DO. Well, he isn't going to stay with her grandparents, he staying with us. So we went to all the meetings that lead up to the event and learned all that we could about the visit. It would be during a Christmas break so the daugher would be home and she promised to keep him occupied. I took time off from work because part of the plan was that the host families wuld be responsible for hetting these boys to the tournaments. It really would have made more sense for them to stay with families that had hockey players, but I think it was suppose to be an Italian learning experience. Well it was quite an experience. My parents were at our house when he arrived and communication was difficult even with them trying knowing the language, you know how dialecs are. Hew as from the Alps region of Italy in a little town which now I cannot remember the name. He showed us on a postcard that he brought along with him. He literally lived in a ski resort, it was absoultely beautiful. His father was a hockey coach for a major leauge team in Italy. We fed him our Italian food, which I am sure was nothing like his, dialecs and food are a lot alike, it depends on what part of the country you are from. My mother's family is from Rome and my father's familyo from Naples. All in all it was a great experience. We wanted to know if he wanted to take our daughter back with him for a visit. He said "no", she could go and he would stay here. We live not far from the Capital of New York, Albany and the city of Albany inviited the team to their First Night Celebration on New Year's Eve and they inclulded the host families, so that was fun. We went to all his hockey games, as did my daughter as she promised. We also took him to a couple of family and friends parties held during that holiday week. We use to get e mails from him now and then and it has been 10 years since he was here and I just got a Facebook essage from him so we have connected again.
Today I get done with work at 1:00 pm. It is a beautiful day here in the Great Northeast. I want to plant my annuals but the garden shops don't even have them in stock yet. So I will go home and get my baby fix. My neighbors granddaughter just had a baby girl and I love to go over and visit for a bit and I get to hold the baby, feed the baby then put her down and leave. That's the way to have a baby at my age.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Pay It Forward
I didn't have to be into work until 10:00 am. I work Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 8:00 am until 1:00 pm and Tuesday, Thursday from 10:00 am until 3:00 pm. So I decided to treat myself to a bagel from the local supermarket. They have a separate bagel donut counter as you walk into the store which is really convenient if you just running in for you morning fix of a donut or bagel and a cup of coffee. So I threw a bagel into a bag. I didn't need to get any butter or cream cheese because the little cafe at my place of work has butter and cream cheese. They also have bagels but they are the frozen kind and I just love me a fresh crispy on the outside soft on the inside bagel. When I got to the counter with my bagel in hand to pay the cashier there was a man there getting a couple of bagels smeared which butter, cream cheese, etc. So he was kind enough to have the cashier ring me out first since his order was going to take a little longer and then when my total rang up to $1.07 and I said I didn't have the 7 cents, the gentlemen offered the cashier the 7 cents. Now I have to find a way to pay it forward today.
Two years ago this Memorial Day weekend my father fell and broke his hip. He had been struggling with a very weak heart and had many bouts of congestive heart failure and many visits to the hopsital. We had moved him into a small apartment after my mother died and we sold their home. He was happy there and doing very well from 2001 when she died until 2008 when his heart started to get really weak. He had had a pacemaker put in 2007 but I think this made him a little nervous. So two years ago on Memorial Day weekend he was in the rehab unit of the nursing home where I work. He had just gotten released from the hospital due to another run with congestive heart failure and the medical staff said it would do hinm good to have a little bit of rehab before they sent him home to get him strong again. So he went from the hospital to the rehab unit where he was scheduled to stay for about two weeks. That's where he fell. He was getting up during the night to go to the bathroom. They had him moving about pretty good with a walker and I am pretty sure he was told to ring the bell if he needed to get up, but knowing my father he decided he would do it himself. So he had to have hip replacement and after he recovered from surgery he ended up back in the rehab unit and then was transferred to the nursing care unit for the remnainder of his life. I was very lucky to work here in the place where he lived. I had a job at the university here in the city where we live, working 30 hours a week. When my father was moved to this nursing home was right around the time I was getting ready to start working less hours. My daughter had graduated from college and I wanted to start winding down toward retirement. My daughter had gone to the same university where I worked. One of the benefits of being employed was free tuition for dependents, that benefit would have cost us well over $100,000.00. So as I visited my father every day I was more and more interested in working at that nursing home. Just on a whim one day I asked about a job, just a few hours a week. They said that infact there was something coming up when they open up their rehab unit to more patients. They needed someone to archive the rehab patient records. These are patients that would usually not stay here for more than 2 weeks. It was perfect. I started here in October '08 and it was pefect because I got to see my father everyday. I used my breaks and lunch time to visit with him and take him for walks on the property in the wheelchair that he wss not confined to. He told all the staff that I was working there, he was so proud, I think he thought I ran the place. He seemed to be very tired and both my brother and I agreed that he probaby just didn't want to go on anymore without my mother. He put up a good fight and tried really hard to do it without her. Two years after he arrived here he died.
Two years ago this Memorial Day weekend my father fell and broke his hip. He had been struggling with a very weak heart and had many bouts of congestive heart failure and many visits to the hopsital. We had moved him into a small apartment after my mother died and we sold their home. He was happy there and doing very well from 2001 when she died until 2008 when his heart started to get really weak. He had had a pacemaker put in 2007 but I think this made him a little nervous. So two years ago on Memorial Day weekend he was in the rehab unit of the nursing home where I work. He had just gotten released from the hospital due to another run with congestive heart failure and the medical staff said it would do hinm good to have a little bit of rehab before they sent him home to get him strong again. So he went from the hospital to the rehab unit where he was scheduled to stay for about two weeks. That's where he fell. He was getting up during the night to go to the bathroom. They had him moving about pretty good with a walker and I am pretty sure he was told to ring the bell if he needed to get up, but knowing my father he decided he would do it himself. So he had to have hip replacement and after he recovered from surgery he ended up back in the rehab unit and then was transferred to the nursing care unit for the remnainder of his life. I was very lucky to work here in the place where he lived. I had a job at the university here in the city where we live, working 30 hours a week. When my father was moved to this nursing home was right around the time I was getting ready to start working less hours. My daughter had graduated from college and I wanted to start winding down toward retirement. My daughter had gone to the same university where I worked. One of the benefits of being employed was free tuition for dependents, that benefit would have cost us well over $100,000.00. So as I visited my father every day I was more and more interested in working at that nursing home. Just on a whim one day I asked about a job, just a few hours a week. They said that infact there was something coming up when they open up their rehab unit to more patients. They needed someone to archive the rehab patient records. These are patients that would usually not stay here for more than 2 weeks. It was perfect. I started here in October '08 and it was pefect because I got to see my father everyday. I used my breaks and lunch time to visit with him and take him for walks on the property in the wheelchair that he wss not confined to. He told all the staff that I was working there, he was so proud, I think he thought I ran the place. He seemed to be very tired and both my brother and I agreed that he probaby just didn't want to go on anymore without my mother. He put up a good fight and tried really hard to do it without her. Two years after he arrived here he died.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Cemeteries
There are two different routes I can take to work in the morning one takes about a minute or two longer than the other. Right now they are constructing a new home for the president of our local university on the route that takes the least amount of time and they had to blast for about a week in order to dig the foundation. Every time they blast they have to hold traffic for about 7 minutes so for the last couple of weeks I have been taking the longer way to work. It takes me through a beautiful cemetery which is right across the street from where I work. Probably the highest point in the city. My parents are buried there and all of my relatives, grandparents on both sides and aunts and uncles and even cousins, friends too. This morning as I drove through it was a bit foggy due to the cool rainy air and the warm ground from the warm weather we have been having. The men who maintain the cemetery were just beginning there mowing for the day. They ride on lawn mowers that they stand on rather than sit down on and they were dressed in their bright yellow rain gear, hoods and all. As I drove through the cemetery it look like something from another planet moving around the stones in the cemetery, a little eerie but also beautiful.
Our house is situated on a street that leads directly into a cemetery, not the same one mentioned above but a different one. This cemetery is also very popular and well maintained. There is another cemetery behind our house. The very first morning of the first night we slept here I got up from bed walked into the upstairs hall and looked out the window that looks towards the back cemetery. It was October and we have a lot of mornings in October when the fog lays very heavy on the hill above the city where we live. There were times growing up when I would arrive at the front of my high school, which also sits on top of a hill overlooking the city, and I literally could not see the school sitting right beyond the fog. So anyway I looked out the upstairs window and all I could see were these tombstones peeking up through the heavy fog, it was very eerie and I thought to myself wow do I really want to live here. The cemetery behind us is very very old, there is no fence that leads borders our property from the cemetery. If it is maintained at all it is done so by the city and only if they have manpower and time to do it. So usually it is overgrown. This year on Earth Day a group of local neighbors got together and went in the cemetery and cleaned up and cut a lot of bushes and trees, most of which had fallen do to last years ice storm. We all got use to living among these beautiful cemeteries and the tombstones. My daughter and her friends used the cemetery to ride their bikes and we use the rolling roadways to walk and others use it to walk their dogs. My daughter use to love to go and read the names and dates. There is one stone that is very tall and the names of children who died very young from one family and all of the boys names were Paul. Very odd.
My husband takes care of locking and unlocking the big wrought iron gates that lead into the cemetery at the end of our street. He volunteered to do this because when we first moved here we noticed that after dark there was a lot of traffic going in and out of cemetery when there really should not have been. We believed it was mostly young people looking for a place to hang out. The caretaker was also concerned because he could see evidence of partying way in the back of the cemetery that leads into a wooded areas along a creek. So the Board of Directors gave my husband a key and he is the gate keeper.
Tonight after the gate was locked we noticed some cars gathering in front of the gate. Looking closer we realized that there were two police cars there. At that point the doorbell rang and it was the city police. They know my husband takes care of locking and locking. So my husband went out and they said that someone hit a dog and the dog took off into the cemetery so the owners of the dog wanted to get in with the police and use the police big spotlights to see if they could find the dog. The dog wasn't hit very hard, he was able to run away. My husband unlocked the gate but they did not have any luck finding the dog. Hopefully he will make his way home.
Our house is situated on a street that leads directly into a cemetery, not the same one mentioned above but a different one. This cemetery is also very popular and well maintained. There is another cemetery behind our house. The very first morning of the first night we slept here I got up from bed walked into the upstairs hall and looked out the window that looks towards the back cemetery. It was October and we have a lot of mornings in October when the fog lays very heavy on the hill above the city where we live. There were times growing up when I would arrive at the front of my high school, which also sits on top of a hill overlooking the city, and I literally could not see the school sitting right beyond the fog. So anyway I looked out the upstairs window and all I could see were these tombstones peeking up through the heavy fog, it was very eerie and I thought to myself wow do I really want to live here. The cemetery behind us is very very old, there is no fence that leads borders our property from the cemetery. If it is maintained at all it is done so by the city and only if they have manpower and time to do it. So usually it is overgrown. This year on Earth Day a group of local neighbors got together and went in the cemetery and cleaned up and cut a lot of bushes and trees, most of which had fallen do to last years ice storm. We all got use to living among these beautiful cemeteries and the tombstones. My daughter and her friends used the cemetery to ride their bikes and we use the rolling roadways to walk and others use it to walk their dogs. My daughter use to love to go and read the names and dates. There is one stone that is very tall and the names of children who died very young from one family and all of the boys names were Paul. Very odd.
My husband takes care of locking and unlocking the big wrought iron gates that lead into the cemetery at the end of our street. He volunteered to do this because when we first moved here we noticed that after dark there was a lot of traffic going in and out of cemetery when there really should not have been. We believed it was mostly young people looking for a place to hang out. The caretaker was also concerned because he could see evidence of partying way in the back of the cemetery that leads into a wooded areas along a creek. So the Board of Directors gave my husband a key and he is the gate keeper.
Tonight after the gate was locked we noticed some cars gathering in front of the gate. Looking closer we realized that there were two police cars there. At that point the doorbell rang and it was the city police. They know my husband takes care of locking and locking. So my husband went out and they said that someone hit a dog and the dog took off into the cemetery so the owners of the dog wanted to get in with the police and use the police big spotlights to see if they could find the dog. The dog wasn't hit very hard, he was able to run away. My husband unlocked the gate but they did not have any luck finding the dog. Hopefully he will make his way home.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Rainy Day and Scrabble
A rainy day today. There were even some sleet falling from the sky. Some of the mountain areas will get snow tonight including a good amount of snow in Lake Placid, NY.
Day off today, I had to accompany my brother to the hospital today for an out patient procedure. We were in and out in less than two hours. It was early enough so we grab some breakfast when we left the hospital. After I took him home I took a quick trip to the mall where the daughter works, stopped by to see her and went to my favorite store, Bath and Body Works. I picked up some coconut scented body lotion and a couple of my favorite B. O. Bigelow lip gloss. Went and had my nails manicured.
When my husband and I bought the house we live in now about 23 years ago it was evident that we would love our neighbors. The neighbors on either side of us were Italians and the the neighbor directly across the street were Italian. All of them moved to our neighborhood from the neighborhood I was born and raised in. The neighbor on the left of us is a widow no too much older than me maybe 8-10 years and we have become good friends. Of course since we both share a love of the game Scrabble that brought us together even more. She is retired so is usually home most days and only is gone in the evening for a couple of hours when she goes to help her son at his newly owned deli/pizza place.
So when I got home today, a brewed a cup of coffee for me and a cup of tea for her and we had a quick game of Scrabble.
The daughter, as I have mentioned before is an assistant manager at a big store that has stores in every mall in America. She may have the opportunity to go to Connecticut to manger a store in a mall over there. They are short a manager due to maternity leave. They would need her for six weeks. They will pay for a hotel room, mileage and a per diem rate. She will know soon, when and what store it is. Her next promotion will be to a store manager and the District Manager would like to see her perform as a store manager, so she will start putting her in these kinds of situations to see how she does. She is excited.
Day off today, I had to accompany my brother to the hospital today for an out patient procedure. We were in and out in less than two hours. It was early enough so we grab some breakfast when we left the hospital. After I took him home I took a quick trip to the mall where the daughter works, stopped by to see her and went to my favorite store, Bath and Body Works. I picked up some coconut scented body lotion and a couple of my favorite B. O. Bigelow lip gloss. Went and had my nails manicured.
When my husband and I bought the house we live in now about 23 years ago it was evident that we would love our neighbors. The neighbors on either side of us were Italians and the the neighbor directly across the street were Italian. All of them moved to our neighborhood from the neighborhood I was born and raised in. The neighbor on the left of us is a widow no too much older than me maybe 8-10 years and we have become good friends. Of course since we both share a love of the game Scrabble that brought us together even more. She is retired so is usually home most days and only is gone in the evening for a couple of hours when she goes to help her son at his newly owned deli/pizza place.
So when I got home today, a brewed a cup of coffee for me and a cup of tea for her and we had a quick game of Scrabble.
The daughter, as I have mentioned before is an assistant manager at a big store that has stores in every mall in America. She may have the opportunity to go to Connecticut to manger a store in a mall over there. They are short a manager due to maternity leave. They would need her for six weeks. They will pay for a hotel room, mileage and a per diem rate. She will know soon, when and what store it is. Her next promotion will be to a store manager and the District Manager would like to see her perform as a store manager, so she will start putting her in these kinds of situations to see how she does. She is excited.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Garden Gnomes
It was a dreary weekend, which called for a nap on Sunday in the middle of the day. We were not able to do too much yard work. Just spread a little more mulch around the flower beds and bushes. Everything is so early that I keep going to the garden center and looking for my annuals then realizing it is much too early.
I am not one of those people who put a lot of what I call knick knacks out in the flower beds, but for some reason for the past few summers I have ended up with six garden gnomes. My mother in law had three made for me by a women she knew that did ceramics, somehow I ended up witnh one that is made out of heavy metal, a plastic one that has a lantern that lights up at night and another plain plastic one. For the last few summers we have had them in t he front flower garden and every time we got another one it was added to the rest. My husband use to get a big kick out of telling people that the gnomes would sneak out after dark and go to the local bar and get drunk because in the morning a couple of them with be fallen over in the garde, probably the result of some wandering wild life but to my husband a drunken night out. This summer they have been relegated to the back yard flower bed. They have begun to loose their looks. One of the ceramic ones got stolen out of the front garden, my husband insists he went out and never came back, probably hooked up with one of the "women" at the bar. The other two ceramic ones need a face lift and the lantern doesn't work anymore on the one of the plastic ones. The look kind of sad back their but I am sure they will adjust. Once they find their way around from the back of the house I am sure they will make their way to the local bar. I am very happy with this decision to move them to the back, as I said I was never one for knick knacks in the house our outside of the house.
I finally got to have my brother over for his birthday dinner. His birthday was April 16th and he was invited to a friends house for dinner that Sunday so I had to put my invite off for a week or so. Last week my daughter was not in town and after I had set the dinner for this week she had a schedule change at work and couldn't make it anyway.
Growing up in an Italian family most of our Sunday dinners and many of the weekday dinners and especially special occasions were filled with Italian food. This birthday dinner I changed it up a little and ask my brother if he wouldn't mind something non Italian. He said he would love to step away from Italian food for his birthday. So I made a pot roast. I don't think my mother even knew what a pot roast was. I learned this from my husband's family. Meat and potatoes and a vegetable was their staple as was pasta for us. They grew a lot of their own vegetables. When my husband was growing up they had cows and sold the milk. So his early years were a great contrast to my city living. So we had pot roast, mashed potatoes, carrots and gravy of course. It was nice change. I made pound cake for dessert with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. I would have made my brother's favorite cake for his birthday dinner but I made it for him to take to his friend's house when he went their for his birthday. He loves my carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and so did his friends. We had a local butcher shop in our neighborhood where I grew up and my brother even worked there part time while he was going to school. That butcher shop closed as did many local mom and pop corner stores in the city, but one of the butchers went to work at the local big supermarket which is so great for me. I don't really know how to buy meats and the different cuts of meats just totally allude me. So when I want a cut of meat for a particular recipe I just go to Bob and tell him what I want it for, finish up my grocery shopping and return to the butcher counter and there it is. He even knows how to do cut that special piece of beef we use to make brociola. He had many years of experience working in an a butcher shop in an Italian neighborhood.
I caught the end of the most interesting movie last night. I was surfing around looking for something to watch before bed. I like to watch a little TV after my husband has gone to bed. Something to relax with and no surfing while the commercials are on. You know that drives me crazy, it just makes watching TV nerve racking. I love DVR and we try to record as much as we can so there are no commercials to watch. So anyway I was looking for something to unwind with and I came upon a movie on PBS. I didn't not catch it from the beginning but it caught my interest anyway. The movie was based right after WWII in London. I didn't even know the name of it until I had to Google the PBS schedule after the movie went off. What I found out from the PBS sight was it was Part II of a movie called Small Island. Done in black in white and I don't even know if it was an original movie done during that era or something made to look like it was old. Has anyone seen it?
I am not one of those people who put a lot of what I call knick knacks out in the flower beds, but for some reason for the past few summers I have ended up with six garden gnomes. My mother in law had three made for me by a women she knew that did ceramics, somehow I ended up witnh one that is made out of heavy metal, a plastic one that has a lantern that lights up at night and another plain plastic one. For the last few summers we have had them in t he front flower garden and every time we got another one it was added to the rest. My husband use to get a big kick out of telling people that the gnomes would sneak out after dark and go to the local bar and get drunk because in the morning a couple of them with be fallen over in the garde, probably the result of some wandering wild life but to my husband a drunken night out. This summer they have been relegated to the back yard flower bed. They have begun to loose their looks. One of the ceramic ones got stolen out of the front garden, my husband insists he went out and never came back, probably hooked up with one of the "women" at the bar. The other two ceramic ones need a face lift and the lantern doesn't work anymore on the one of the plastic ones. The look kind of sad back their but I am sure they will adjust. Once they find their way around from the back of the house I am sure they will make their way to the local bar. I am very happy with this decision to move them to the back, as I said I was never one for knick knacks in the house our outside of the house.
I finally got to have my brother over for his birthday dinner. His birthday was April 16th and he was invited to a friends house for dinner that Sunday so I had to put my invite off for a week or so. Last week my daughter was not in town and after I had set the dinner for this week she had a schedule change at work and couldn't make it anyway.
Growing up in an Italian family most of our Sunday dinners and many of the weekday dinners and especially special occasions were filled with Italian food. This birthday dinner I changed it up a little and ask my brother if he wouldn't mind something non Italian. He said he would love to step away from Italian food for his birthday. So I made a pot roast. I don't think my mother even knew what a pot roast was. I learned this from my husband's family. Meat and potatoes and a vegetable was their staple as was pasta for us. They grew a lot of their own vegetables. When my husband was growing up they had cows and sold the milk. So his early years were a great contrast to my city living. So we had pot roast, mashed potatoes, carrots and gravy of course. It was nice change. I made pound cake for dessert with fresh strawberries and whipped cream. I would have made my brother's favorite cake for his birthday dinner but I made it for him to take to his friend's house when he went their for his birthday. He loves my carrot cake with cream cheese frosting and so did his friends. We had a local butcher shop in our neighborhood where I grew up and my brother even worked there part time while he was going to school. That butcher shop closed as did many local mom and pop corner stores in the city, but one of the butchers went to work at the local big supermarket which is so great for me. I don't really know how to buy meats and the different cuts of meats just totally allude me. So when I want a cut of meat for a particular recipe I just go to Bob and tell him what I want it for, finish up my grocery shopping and return to the butcher counter and there it is. He even knows how to do cut that special piece of beef we use to make brociola. He had many years of experience working in an a butcher shop in an Italian neighborhood.
I caught the end of the most interesting movie last night. I was surfing around looking for something to watch before bed. I like to watch a little TV after my husband has gone to bed. Something to relax with and no surfing while the commercials are on. You know that drives me crazy, it just makes watching TV nerve racking. I love DVR and we try to record as much as we can so there are no commercials to watch. So anyway I was looking for something to unwind with and I came upon a movie on PBS. I didn't not catch it from the beginning but it caught my interest anyway. The movie was based right after WWII in London. I didn't even know the name of it until I had to Google the PBS schedule after the movie went off. What I found out from the PBS sight was it was Part II of a movie called Small Island. Done in black in white and I don't even know if it was an original movie done during that era or something made to look like it was old. Has anyone seen it?
Sunday, April 25, 2010
My Most Cherished Thing
When my mother died in February 2001, she left my father and my brother and I. My brother is two and one half years younger than I am. He lives alone, has never been married and has no children. My parent had a very cute cape cod style house just outside the city limits in the same city they were both born and raised in. They were both the youngest in a family of 9 in each family. They were both of Italian descendants. My father's father came here from Italy following some of his relatives and my mother's father came here from Italy to work in a steel mill in Hershey, Pennsylvania. Around the time my father asked my mother to marry him back in 1951 he had just won $500 in something called the Sweepstakes. An older version, from what I know, of today's lottery. I am not sure but I don't know whether it was legal or no. So my father said to his brother, "well I think I should buy ny girlfriend a diamond with this money and ask her to marry me." So that's what he did. and they were married for just two months shy of their 50th anniversary before she died.
So as I was going through her things after she died I opened her jewelry box and started trying to figure what to do with her things some was costume jewelry and some was expensive pieces. I took her engagement ring out and said to my father, "what do you want me to do with her ring?" He said, "you will wear it, of course." I was so thrilled. There had never been any mention of how this ring would be passed down and to whom. About the 25th year of their marriage my brother had given my mother a pair of diamond earrings, just little studs. At that time she took the ring and had the original diamond and the pair of diamond earrings that my brother gave her and had them put, all three stones, into one setting. It was a rather large ring then so she didn't wear her wedding band with it. My father also gave me her wedding band and I had my jeweler re work it into a heart shape and he hung a stone made from her birthstone in the center. I have that on a gold chain that I wear occasionally. I wear her diamond ring all the time. As a matter of fact I retired my wedding band and engagement ring that my husband gave me and I wear my mother's in their place. I took it to the my jeweler when my father gave it to me and had it appraised and cleaned and sized to fit me. Within hours of me leaving it with him he called me very excited. He said, "that ring you left with me, I have to tell you something." Oh my God, I thought, my mother must have been wearing a fake diamond all these years." So he said, "it is an absolute perfect one carat diamond, no flaws and worth a lot more than the $500 your father paid for it 50 years ago. Oh my God I thought, I will be a nervous wreck wearing it. My mother wore it everyday for 50 years and never really new how much it was worth. I took it to my jeweler this week to have the prongs checked. Some of the prongs were weakening so I left with him to put it on a new head. When I stopped to pick it up he had some bad news to tell me, the stone had a slight chip in it. Nothing I could see with the naked eye, but he could see it with his magnifying glass. He said it doesn't change the value. He is going to hide the chip with a prong and see how it holds up. If it starts to fail he will take it out and re cut and smooth the area and it should be fine and the crack will not get worse. I must have banged it somehow. He said, "your mother must not have worn this everyday." I said, "yes she did." I felt really terrible. How could this happen.
So as I was going through her things after she died I opened her jewelry box and started trying to figure what to do with her things some was costume jewelry and some was expensive pieces. I took her engagement ring out and said to my father, "what do you want me to do with her ring?" He said, "you will wear it, of course." I was so thrilled. There had never been any mention of how this ring would be passed down and to whom. About the 25th year of their marriage my brother had given my mother a pair of diamond earrings, just little studs. At that time she took the ring and had the original diamond and the pair of diamond earrings that my brother gave her and had them put, all three stones, into one setting. It was a rather large ring then so she didn't wear her wedding band with it. My father also gave me her wedding band and I had my jeweler re work it into a heart shape and he hung a stone made from her birthstone in the center. I have that on a gold chain that I wear occasionally. I wear her diamond ring all the time. As a matter of fact I retired my wedding band and engagement ring that my husband gave me and I wear my mother's in their place. I took it to the my jeweler when my father gave it to me and had it appraised and cleaned and sized to fit me. Within hours of me leaving it with him he called me very excited. He said, "that ring you left with me, I have to tell you something." Oh my God, I thought, my mother must have been wearing a fake diamond all these years." So he said, "it is an absolute perfect one carat diamond, no flaws and worth a lot more than the $500 your father paid for it 50 years ago. Oh my God I thought, I will be a nervous wreck wearing it. My mother wore it everyday for 50 years and never really new how much it was worth. I took it to my jeweler this week to have the prongs checked. Some of the prongs were weakening so I left with him to put it on a new head. When I stopped to pick it up he had some bad news to tell me, the stone had a slight chip in it. Nothing I could see with the naked eye, but he could see it with his magnifying glass. He said it doesn't change the value. He is going to hide the chip with a prong and see how it holds up. If it starts to fail he will take it out and re cut and smooth the area and it should be fine and the crack will not get worse. I must have banged it somehow. He said, "your mother must not have worn this everyday." I said, "yes she did." I felt really terrible. How could this happen.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Beautiful Saturday in the Great Northeast
This weather is incredible. Sunny and warm today temperature in the upper 60's, perfect. No humidity and no wind. We could not ask for me. It would be great if this would continue. But no, we live in great northeast, humidity will be coming soon.
I have to wonder why they call this area the Great Northeast. I don't think they call any other area of the country great. The Great Southeast, The Great Northwest; it just doesn't sound right to me. Unless, of course, we lived in either of these areas and then maybe it would sound right.
The daughter text me after she arrived at work. She is prone to little, what she calls anxiety attacks. Which have never been diagnosed, but from what she experiences I would have to say it is what I would consider an anxiety attack. She said all the way on her drive to work she was worried that something was gong to go wrong at work. She works in a large mall. She was worried about a bomb threat or a shooting. Can't imagine what this world is coming too. That would have been the furthest thing from my mind if I were on my way to work at the age of 26. Even if I didn't work in a mall. I worked in a high rise office building and that thought never crossed my mind. So wouldn't you know it, when she pulls into the parking lot of the mall the fire alarm is going off. So much for easing her anxiety. I told her everything was going to be ok, and everything was.
Tonight I went to a Party Lite party. I don't need another candle but I went for the fun. It was a themed party. Wear you lounging pajamas and bring your favorite Margaretta glass. The Margaretta's were delicious, we were all comfy in our lounging clothes and the snack food was awesome. I spent $42.00 which really isn't too bad, I got some tea lights for me and a barrel jar candle for my daughter.
I have to wonder why they call this area the Great Northeast. I don't think they call any other area of the country great. The Great Southeast, The Great Northwest; it just doesn't sound right to me. Unless, of course, we lived in either of these areas and then maybe it would sound right.
The daughter text me after she arrived at work. She is prone to little, what she calls anxiety attacks. Which have never been diagnosed, but from what she experiences I would have to say it is what I would consider an anxiety attack. She said all the way on her drive to work she was worried that something was gong to go wrong at work. She works in a large mall. She was worried about a bomb threat or a shooting. Can't imagine what this world is coming too. That would have been the furthest thing from my mind if I were on my way to work at the age of 26. Even if I didn't work in a mall. I worked in a high rise office building and that thought never crossed my mind. So wouldn't you know it, when she pulls into the parking lot of the mall the fire alarm is going off. So much for easing her anxiety. I told her everything was going to be ok, and everything was.
Tonight I went to a Party Lite party. I don't need another candle but I went for the fun. It was a themed party. Wear you lounging pajamas and bring your favorite Margaretta glass. The Margaretta's were delicious, we were all comfy in our lounging clothes and the snack food was awesome. I spent $42.00 which really isn't too bad, I got some tea lights for me and a barrel jar candle for my daughter.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Motherly Instincts
Well yesterday was my maiden post. I didn't get any comments so I am not sure if that means there was no one who read my post or if just no one wanted to comment. There might be a place for me to find out if I had any hits, I will have to look into that.
Last night my daughter stopped by to have dinner with us and brought along her roller blades. We have a really nice cemetery right by our house with miles of paved road that is perfect for roller blades, bikes, walking, walking dogs etc. The night before she came with her roller blades and I rode my bike and she roller bladed (is that a word?) Unfortunately after dinner tonight a cold breeze dropped down on our area and we decided to stay in the house. We had a nice visit though.
Last night my daughter stopped by to have dinner with us and brought along her roller blades. We have a really nice cemetery right by our house with miles of paved road that is perfect for roller blades, bikes, walking, walking dogs etc. The night before she came with her roller blades and I rode my bike and she roller bladed (is that a word?) Unfortunately after dinner tonight a cold breeze dropped down on our area and we decided to stay in the house. We had a nice visit though.
Both of my parents are dead. My mom died in February 2001 and my father in May 2009, almost a year ago. My daughter and I are very close and if there is anything that is bothering her from something as simple as a headache or as complex as work related, she turns to me, sometimes for advice but most of the time to vent or have me assure her that her headache doesn't mean she is dying. But today I was thinking, I don't have a mother to call on the phone and say, "hey, I have had this headache (or whatever the ailment is) for a day or so now, what is your opinion, do you think it is serious? What do mother's do who don't have mother's anymore to get some comforting advice from. My husband is wonderful when it comes to being a good listener and giving advice, and girlfriends are great too; but it is not the same as a mother's maternal instinct.
Speaking of motherly instincts. I have always told me daughter no to suppress hers when it comes time to be a mother. I believe that some women, who are trying to juggle careers and motherhood have a tendency to suppress their motherly instincts. If something doesn't feel right then don't push it back and tell yourself you are just being a worrier, it is your motherly instincts talking to you so listen to them long and hard, they are always right. Make the time to listen.
Back when my daughter was in high school I was dealing with a very sick mother and I was off with her on one of her many medical appointments. My daughter had her driver's license and we were just beginning to give her a little bit of freedom with our car. So I let her take our car to school one day because I was going to be using my parent's car to take my mother to her appointment. We had a break in between appointments so I took my mother home to her house so she could rest and get some lunch before her next appointment and I went to my house to check in on the daughter, this was before cell phones were a must. She was do to be home from school any minute. So I pulled in the driveway and the car was there. My intention was just to run into the house check on her and run right back out to my parent's house. As I got out of the car I could her her music coming from her bedroom window just above the driveway and what I thought was a boys voice. I thought that very odd. So I didn't just go in the house and yell up to her I physically went up the stairs, because my motherly instinct was coming through. Now I was in quite a bit of a hurry and I could have said to myself, "no it was just the music, there was no boys voice, I am in a hurry, I don't have time to check this out." But I didn't, I went up to her room. Much to my surprise there was not a boy there. So, I could have said to myself, "oh good I was was mistaken, no one here, just my daughter and her music." Here comes my motherly instinct again telling me, "no you were right, there was a boys voice, and you know it." I went directly to the closet, sure enough a boy. I am almost positive their intentions were not what my worst fears would tell me. I think it was innocent enough, just an opportunity for them to have some freedom as far as getting home from school on their own and hanging out with out the parents around. However, a drug that boy out of the closet by his collar, demanded he get in my car and I brought him home. My doughier was a little frightened, not just because I found out but that she could see that I knew something was wrong even though everything looked and seemed normal. A perfect example of motherly instinct
The Director of Nursing at the Nursing Home where I work took in upon herself to organize a BBQ today to benefit Muscular Dystrophy So she got a lot of people to donate a summer salad and she bouoght hamburgers and hotdogs and rolls for each and then she charged five dollars a person. I hope she made out ok. I contributed a ambrosia salad. I didn't go to the BBQ, none of those salads would have been good for somehone who is trying to loose weight.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Maiden Post
I know, I know I have spelt the word bell wrong. It's just that I love the word as a name and I wanted to somehow incorporate in my blog title. My husband's grandmother was named Belle and I have a cat named Bella, she actually came to us with that name. Belle has another meaning in my life but if I told you that it may give you an idea as to where I live and I am not ready for that yet. This is my first blog post ever and I am totally feeling things out and not wanting to give too much information.
I have been reading blogs for a very long time and when I can figure this whole thing out I will be glad to post some of the blogs I read daily, they all have inspired me.
I will try to make my way around the profile area of this blog and fill in more information about myself but I will introduce myself briefly here.
- I have been married to the same man for 31 years
- We have one daughter, 26 years old
- We have two cats, Bella and Buddy or Budda and Belly as I sometimes refer to them
- I was born and raised in the city we live in
- My husband was born and raised in a little town about an hour southwest of me
- We have owned our home for 23 years and have put much of our heart and soul into it
- I am 56, 30 years older than my daughter so if I can remember how old my daughter is I can remember my age
- My husband is five years older than me
- I work in a nursing home not ten minutes from my home, not in patient care, in the administrative end
I think that is enough information for now. I will try to get a profile up soon.
Today was Administrative Assistant day. When I first started out in the work force, I was a secretary and this day was called Secretaries Day and actually it was considered Secretaries Week. I fell out of the secretary field and went into the administrative field and since the title of the special day was changed it was good for me because I get to be honored again. The Administrative staff here at the nursing home had a lunch for the Assistants. It was brought into the facility and set up in a conference room. It consisted of a lunch package from Panera Breads. A variety of sandwhiches, chips, very large chocolate chip cookies and a ceasar salad. Also someone brought homemade brownies. I took a turkey sandwhich and a plate of salad, took the turkey out of the sandwhich and put it in my salad, and I have to pat myself on the back because I did not take any dessert and no chips. It will become very evident through this blog that I am and have beeen battling my weight since I was a little girl.
So, if anyone happens to have found me, thanks for reading and if you have any suggestions please let me know.
I have been reading blogs for a very long time and when I can figure this whole thing out I will be glad to post some of the blogs I read daily, they all have inspired me.
I will try to make my way around the profile area of this blog and fill in more information about myself but I will introduce myself briefly here.
- I have been married to the same man for 31 years
- We have one daughter, 26 years old
- We have two cats, Bella and Buddy or Budda and Belly as I sometimes refer to them
- I was born and raised in the city we live in
- My husband was born and raised in a little town about an hour southwest of me
- We have owned our home for 23 years and have put much of our heart and soul into it
- I am 56, 30 years older than my daughter so if I can remember how old my daughter is I can remember my age
- My husband is five years older than me
- I work in a nursing home not ten minutes from my home, not in patient care, in the administrative end
I think that is enough information for now. I will try to get a profile up soon.
Today was Administrative Assistant day. When I first started out in the work force, I was a secretary and this day was called Secretaries Day and actually it was considered Secretaries Week. I fell out of the secretary field and went into the administrative field and since the title of the special day was changed it was good for me because I get to be honored again. The Administrative staff here at the nursing home had a lunch for the Assistants. It was brought into the facility and set up in a conference room. It consisted of a lunch package from Panera Breads. A variety of sandwhiches, chips, very large chocolate chip cookies and a ceasar salad. Also someone brought homemade brownies. I took a turkey sandwhich and a plate of salad, took the turkey out of the sandwhich and put it in my salad, and I have to pat myself on the back because I did not take any dessert and no chips. It will become very evident through this blog that I am and have beeen battling my weight since I was a little girl.
So, if anyone happens to have found me, thanks for reading and if you have any suggestions please let me know.
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