Making Someone Smile

I spent last weekend sewing buttons and buttons on a patchwork throw for a lady in the nursing home part of the hospital/personal care/nursing home where I work mainly overnights. Usually I walk with 3 of our resident ladies in personal care to the upstairs activity room to play Bingo. There is a younger lady who always tries to make conversation with me. It is so apparent that she is lonely. I did a little investigating and found that she had been a special education teacher, had no children of her own, and suffered some type of stroke a few years back leaving her in a wheel chair with some memory problems.

Also, birthdays are celebrated once a month at the facility for residents. Her birthday was last Wednesday. So this gave me the idea to spread a little joy and finish a project. My 14 year old son, Wynston and I strolled into her room on Friday and she was so pleasantly surprised. She kept asking my son, "Did she make this for real?" I saw her yesterday at Bingo and she was all smiles telling me that she slept with the quilt on her the night before. I told her I hoped she had pleasant dreams. Her reply, "Only the best kind." Don't know who is smiling more -- her or me.

Pillow Talk

I have been working on a few small projects -- some with new twists for me. I made this owl pillow for my daughter. She is into this character some now as we seem to find different fabrics with owls on them lately. This is done with fusible web and then machine stitching around every edge of different fabric used, even the eyelashes and nose as pictured. The next pillow was made as a surprise for an old schoolmate that I am friends with on Facebook. He drew this center as a tattoo he would like to get in the future and then put it for friends to see his artwork concept. I printed the black and white picture on the printer and then used my light box to hand copy it onto fabric. I then embroidered it and used colored pencils in some places. Quilted the front and back pieces and stuffed it. My friend Rolo (Danny) was very pleased. He has health disabilities and feels down at times. He told me that no one (not related to him) has ever done something this nice for him. It made me happy as well!!

Rainbows and Memories

Last weekend my family traveled to Kalispell, Montana to attend my uncle's funeral. The weather poured like our tears did for this wonderful man. I can't remember a time or visit with him when he didn't smile or make me smile. He always made good conversation and seemed genuinely interested in whatever I had to say. That means a lot to me especially from my childhood days. This man will be thought of and stay in my memories for years to come. I am blessed to have known him. My aunt, (his wife) and I talk on the telephone almost once a week and I have been making it a great effort to try to travel the 4 hours one way to spend time with her (them) while the snow is off the roads. In a conversation a week or so before my uncle passed away, I remember my aunt and I commenting that we don't see rainbows in Big Sky Country like we use to. I first moved to Montana when I was 21 and everything was so new, wonderful, and different. I could not stop marveling at the skies. Now I marvel at them still, but life has become so "hurried" at times. I forget to take the time, to step out on the porches at home and be in "awe" no matter what time of day or evening. Even so . . . on my sad travel last weekend, the rain/sleet ended after the funeral. My family didn't want to spend time in the hotel room and bother my exhausted aunt with more people so we ended up driving and viewing important lovely spots in Kalispell and Whitefish, MT. Rainbows were found. I was able to smile. Our travel and spirits were lightened. Hope you enjoy the photos I snapped. One is on top of Big Mountain in Whitefish, Montana. The other is at Woodland Park in Kalispell, Montana.

From Here to the Moon

Okay call me obsessive about a few things. I simply love this song by Dolly Parton after renting and watching her in the movie "Joyful Noise". My family has been hearing me playing this link from Youtube at least 5 times today. Hope you enjoy the song. Simply click on these words: From Here to the Moon and Back.

The Ya Ya Sisters

Someone sent me this in an email and I had to first laugh and second share it with you. Be sure to read the diet at the end

AND REMEMBER: GOOD FRIENDS ARE LIKE STARS. YOU DON'T ALWAYS SEE THEM, BUT YOU ALWAYS KNOW THEY ARE THERE!!!!!!

Breakfast 1 grapefruit 1 slice whole wheat toast 1 cup skim milk Lunch 1 small portion lean, steamed chicken 1 cup spinach 1 cup herbal tea 1 Hershey's kiss Afternoon Tea The rest of the Hershey Kisses in the bag 1 tub of Hagen-Daaz ice cream with chocolate chips Dinner 4 glasses of wine (red or white) 2 loaves garlic bread 1 family size supreme pizza 3 Snickers Bars Late Night Snack 1 whole Sarah Lee cheesecake (eaten directly from the freezer) Remember: · Stressed spelled backward is desserts. · Handle every stressful situation like a dog. Tinkle on it and walk away.

Toto We Are NOT City Folk Anymore

I had to go out with my husband and take a picture of the creepy crawly beast that terrified me. Also to just confirm that it truly was a rattle snake. This is from the Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks online site: "Of the ten snake species that live in Montana, only the prairie rattle-snake is venomous. Also known as the western rattlesnake, the prairie rattler is found in open, arid country and ponderosa pine savannahs. It often dens on south-facing slopes in areas with rock outcrops. Rattlesnake bites are extremely rare. Of the hundreds of thousands of hunters, hikers, and backpackers traversing Montana each year, only five or six report being bitten, according to the Rocky Mountain Poison and Drug Center in Denver. The center also notes there was not a single death among the 45 reported prairie rattlesnake bites in Montana during the last eight years. The prairie rattlesnake is a medium-sized species with venom glands that harbor only moderate amounts of venom. Nevertheless, prairie rattlesnakes have the ability to deliver a dose of venom lethal to an adult human. That's why anyone who spends time outdoors in Montana should have at least a passing awareness of snake-bite first aid. Rattlesnakes are shy, retiring creatures. If left alone, they won't bother people. But if a rattlesnake thinks it will be stepped on or otherwise harmed, it may bite. These snakes are armed with a pair of hollow, hinged fangs that fold back against the roof of the mouth. A rattlesnake strikes most often on the hand, calf, or ankle, leaving one or two small fang marks. When bitten, a person will likely feel intense pain at the bite area. Other symptoms may include difficulty breathing, nausea, vomiting, swelling, and gangrene." So to conclude from my last post, this creature was at the corner of my rental house, next to a lilac bush I had taken some clippings from earlier in the day. I walked past him and spotted part of his body going over a wooden fence rail after I had crossed in front of him a minute before. While the Montana Fish, Wildlife & Parks says we should leave them alone and observe them from a distance, I felt he was too close to our house and children. I had my husband take care of him. Wishing this was my last encounter with snakes, but since this incident I have seen 2 more snakes. Thank goodness these are non-poisonous and called garter snakes. Still I jump and run when seeing anything slithering and crawling around me. So Toto I don't think we are City Folk Anymore.

A Visit with Sara Jo

Memories, how precious they are. I hope to never lose them.

Just this week I was at our rented storage shed rummaging through boxes looking for one particular book (which ended up being on our bookshelf at home). I ran across a stain, tattered, folded index card. Upon opening it my heart jumped. The recipe is that of a sweet lady that meant so much to me. She passed away unexpectedly over 3 years ago. Her name was Sara Jo. She was known to me as a sister-in-law. While growing up and during my teenage years, she always treated me as a person with a mind, a person of substance. I can't say I felt that way with most of my "relatives" in the foster home (from age 4 to 21).

Even when I took my major departure from the South at the age of 21, Sara Jo was the one who always wrote me long letters of family and church events. She was consistent and I always responded. We were truly pen pals.



Sara Jo was a very godly and totally family oriented soul. That was all she lived for. At many family and church social activities where food was brought and shared, she was known for her green bean casserole, her deviled eggs, her spiced apple cake and her pineapple pies.

I remember asking her for her recipes for the spiced apple cake and pineapple pie. I also remember when I got the one for the cake, I thought 'there are so many steps' and I folded it up and put it somewhere. I know I shall run across is someday and then I will take the time to prepare one no matter how much preparation there is. It will be worth it and bring Sara Jo back into mind as fresh as she is today.



I took her recipe card and prepared two pies as instructed. I have already had my family sample a taste from the spoon. Tears came to my eyes when I tasted mine. I miss her and the connection we had. People who know me and my upbringing know that I do not show emotion very often, but this has been one of those days with Sara Jo.

Crabby Old Man

Keith A. Wells Sr.'s Photos
CRABBY OLD MAN

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in North Platte , Nebraska , it was believed that he had nothing left of any value

Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, They found this poem . Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital

One nurse took her copy to Missouri . The old man's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas edition of the News Magazine of the St. Louis Association for Mental Health.. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

And this little old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this 'anonymous' poem winging across the Internet.


Crabby Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . What do you see?
What are you thinking . . . . . when you're looking at me?
A crabby old man, . ... .. not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . .. . . . . . with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles his food . . .. . . . . and makes no reply .
When you say in a loud voice .. . . . .. 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice . ... . the things that you do .
And forever is losing . . . . .. . . . . . A sock or shoe?

Who, resisting or not . . . . . . .. . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse . . . . . you're not looking at me .

I'll tell you who I am . As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, . . . . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten ... . . . . . with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters . . . ... . . . . . who love one another.

A young boy of Sixteen . . with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . . .. .. . . a lover he'll meet..
A groom soon at Twenty . my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows . . . . .. . that I promised to keep.

At Twenty-Five, now . . . . . . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . . . . .. . . . .. My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . . . . . . With ties that should last.

At Forty, my young sons .. . have grown and are gone,
But my woman's beside me . . . . . . . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more, babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . . . . My loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me . . my wife is now dead.
I look at the future ... . .. . . . . . . shudder with dread..
For my young are all rearing . . . . . .. young of their own.
And I think of the years . . .. and the love that I've known.

I'm now an old man . . . . . .. .. . . and nature is cruel.
Tis jest to make old age . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. . . . . . . grace and vigor, depart..
There is now a stone . . . .. . . . where I once had a heart.

But inside this old carcass . . a young guy still dwells,
And now and again . . . .. . . . my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys . . . . . . . . .. I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living . . . . . .. . . . . life over again.

I think of the years, all too few . . . . . gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . . . .. that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people . . . . . . . . open and see.
Not a crabby old man. Look closer . . . see ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within . . . . we will all, one day, be there, too!

PLEASE SHARE THIS POEM
The best and most beautiful things of this world can't be seen or touched. They must be felt by the heart.

Word for the Day - Perception

In my usual events of the day, when going to prepare dinner before my husband gets home from work, I load the dishwasher with odds and ends cleaning out the sink and wiping down counters. Then items come out to cook. It never fails that my daughter will come into the kitchen and ask, "What are you doing?" So tonight I asked her if she could see what I was doing. She replied, "Cleaning up to cook dinner?" I said, "Yes, good girl". She then told me that I did not have to talk to her like a dog.

I was taken back by this comment. I did not intend or perceive that I had done such a thing to her.

Only later at the dinner table when I told her dad what she had accused me of did she conclude that when she hears the words "good girl" that she thinks of a dog.

I told her my intentions were good and supposed to be compliment.

A teenager she is. A special lady with disabilities she is. It is hard some times to understand or communicate with her, but I am delighted to have her as my daughter.

per·cep·tion
   [per-sep-shuhn]
noun
1.
the act or faculty of apprehending by means of the senses or of the mind; cognition; understanding.
2.
immediate or intuitive recognition or appreciation, as of moral, psychological, or aesthetic qualities; insight; intuition; discernment: an artist of rare perception.
3.
the result or product of perceiving, as distinguished from the act of perceiving; percept.

Spirits Are Merry

Well, yesterday and today have me in a very MERRY mood! Right now I am jamming away to classic Christmas tunes online and smelling some wonderful smells from the kitchen where two loaves of Eggnog Bread are cooling on the rack. (The kids have started coming around to see when the 1st loaf can be cut.)



After working three nights in a row and now having a few off, I am happy to see some white stuff on our ground. (I image the farmers in our area are very thrilled to see the moisture as well!) Happily, I can stay inside and watch the weather from my windows. A feeling of a want for some hot chocolate or hot tea right now is ensuing. (A tea pot was my request for Santa, but then I spotted something similar at Sam's Club that I especially liked for less than $20 -- Mrs. Claus purchased it and has it under the tree. Gonna be a good girl and leave it there till Christmas Eve when we open goodies.)



Happy to report that my efforts to get an Amaryllis to grow and eventually bloom are starting to perk up. I have had it a month and have moved it from one window to another to another. Finally seeing some growth.

Maybe it is the nutcracker guarding it that is causing the change?!!

Sunsets Of My Life

"I now begin the journey that will lead me into the sunset of my life. I know that for America there will always be a bright dawn ahead. Thank you, my friends. May God always bless you." November 5, 1994: From the letter in which Reagan announced his Alzheimer's diagnosis — five years after leaving office.

My heart has been very heavy for the past few days now after receiving a phone call from a relative of a person in my past. I was told that her sister has been given 1 year to live, but now I have received another phone message from a call I missed last night that reports a sudden turn for the worse with the doctor's wanting to "pull the plug" on her kidney and that the end will come within the next few days.



This saddens me as she is just 44 years old and the mother of three children -- two of which are grown but one that is still a teenager and has been "floating" for a year now during this period of her mother's illness (surgery and then chemo).

It has set my mind to remembering this special sweet lady. I will always remember her smile and the happiness in her voice no matter what she was going through. It has my heart crying knowing that she has been struggling for so long trying to hold on and that her battle is being lost.



That was the worst part of the care I gave to my in-laws for 6 years knowing I was losing a battle, one that I saw as not winning. Then I was finally able to come to terms towards the end in understanding that they were so tired and their body was giving out even if their spirit was strong to the end. I always tried to keep them comfortable and happy or pleasant in talking to them, getting them to reminisce about things they enjoyed. I find I do that even now in working on the personal care floor at the hospital.



So it is with these thoughts that I tie together recent pictures of sunsets here in Fort Benton, MT. They are true masterpieces and my youngest (Avery) and I could not help but keep saying "wow" while shooting these. I am thankful and hope to have many more sunsets to enjoy with my family. I am still saying a prayer for my friend. Her name is Sherri (she lives in Georgia) -- say a little one for her too if you don't mind.

In Love with Lilacs

Montana has been flooding the past few weeks due to rain and more rain. Also, snow melting from the mountains and running into the rivers causing the banks to overflow and dams and reservoirs being at capacity are other causes of the flooding.

Spirits of the peoples and natives in this state have been down and staying home has become a regular time passing state due to the rain. The local news and newspaper are filled with more and more stories and pictures of areas of concern and devastation. One article in today's paper says the governor reports 8.6 million in damages so far. Then other radio stories say from his office for farmers and home owners not to expect help from the government.



One happy thought and visual I see around town here is all the purple on the bushes. The blooms on the lilacs are spectacular this year. Had to grab my camera and snap some photos of the bushes in my back yard. I love the combination of the colors of purple and green. When I was a little girl and people would ask what my favorite colors were my reply was always dark purple and dark green. That has never changed for me even to this day.



I also got to work with our youngest on learning how to use the lawn mower on the front yard and was pleased to see the enormous tree in the middle of the yard is sporting some green -- the leaves are returning. I love them now, but just wait till they start falling and swamping the front yard in the fall. That will be another article with a different tone in the writing!!!

In Search of a Strawberry

When I was a little girl growing up in a foster home in Tennessee, there were times when my "mother" could and would be so nice in creating special memories. One of those is the picture here. It was Christmas and she made me the long red skirt. Also, she got me a ruffled collar blouse and added some red trimmings to it. To top off the outfit, I was allowed to wear an old piece of her costume jewelry -- a strawberry with red stones in it. I felt so special, so pretty. I am beaming from ear to ear in this picture!!!

I don't know what happened to the brooch. I remember asking to wear it some time later and was told that it was lost or gone. That has stuck with me all these years and every time I have been to a yard sale or thrift store I have always looked for one.

Last weekend Savannah Rose and I went to the Rocky Mountain Craft Sale held here in town. This was the first time checking it out and also the first time one has been held in the Spring. There were several things to look at and we ended up finding something we liked at the Special Olympics booth.

Before leaving we had a wonderful time looking at gorgeous pieces of vintage costume jewelry a lady collects and sells. I happened to ask her before leaving about a strawberry brooch. She had one but it was not what I was looking for and I left still wanting to locate one.

Keeping in the spirit of things I had purchased a couple of big boxes of strawberries just that morning so we came home and had fun doing some chocolate fondue strawberries and bananas with my sons. (My husband was out of town at a work training and missed all the fun!)

Well, I am one to not let something that gets in my mind be forgotten too easily again. So while working on listing some auctions on Ebay and Etsy, I was able to find the exact strawberry brooch I have been looking for and also at a very reasonable price with free shipping. I will be anxiously awaiting the mail delivery here this next week looking for my tangible item that will be a story told to my kids and a piece of jewelry passed on to one of them.



Hope you are able to find that special something that holds a pleasant memory for you -- no matter if tangible or not. Hope it puts a smile on your face and tugs at your heart strings.

Montana Signs of Spring

A gaggle of goslings on a park pond, a dancing sharptail grouse and a whistling prairie dog were the first-, second-, and third-place winners of this year's wildlife category in the Great Falls Tribune annual photography contest.





I must say my seeing a prairie dog run across a busy street the other morning on my way home from work confirmed in my mind Spring has finally arrived. But, we are still seeing snow flying around here quite a bit as well. Another morning this week, my first feelings of seeing a white blanket on our lawns that are starting to turn green was very DOWN; however, my spirits rose when a few hours later everything was melted and back to my kind of liking.



Another sign of Spring here is the knock on the door from the sweet Girl Scout with our cookies. My husband thought I was silly taking a picture of the box, but this made me happy as well.

I am also wanting to try some of those Topsy Turvy growing bags with tomatoes or strawberries. I haven't tried my hand (or green thumb) with growing anything since my move to Montana a couple years ago. So I think with this feeling of Spring here, maybe now is a good time to go for it.

Happy Spring to you!

Pick Me Up Winter Bouquet

Well, I finally did it! I broke down and visited a new floral shop on Central Avenue in Great Falls, Montana. When the snow keeps persisting on these extremely hard winters, I just have to have some signs of life and growth and color infused in my world to keep me going.

It was fun to be able to pick out what I wanted in my bouquet. I also let my husband do the selecting of the flowers. I think we did a really good collaboration!

Now they sit on my dining table and even the kids are happy and talking of them. My sweet daughter pointed to the inside of the lily and told her younger brother, that stuff is called "pollen". Thank goodness she didn't go into the discussion of bees as he has a major worry about that subject.

I will just be glad to get to the bee season this year, but until then another trip to the flower shop may be in order. Just saw an updated weather report -- another winter storm on the way for us and we are at -18 degrees as I write this!

Spring Chickadees

Oh, how I would love to hear the birds chirp right now!

Winter is seeming like forever here in Montana these days. Plugging in the van to ensure a start when turning the ignition key, brushing the snow off the windows, frozen ice on the windshield wiper blades, and watching every step you take. Then, just like out of no where down you go whether it be forwards or backwards . . . an instant feeling of defeat.



Since the birdies don't seem to be in the near future, I decided to stitch some to work on a colorful quilt top. Maybe I will get it put together by the time green grass and green leaves and sunshine appear around here.



Until then, I may just have to go and purchase some fresh cut flowers for the dining table -- those always perk me up!! Hope you will do the same if you are beginning to feel the way I am these days.

Life Is Always Good

Photo by Pringle Hill on flickr.com

Life is always good

Life is always good, because you can make of it anything you choose. Life is good, because it is exceptionally flexible.

Life is good because you can express what it means to be alive in your own unique and fulfilling way. And that is precisely how you make your life good and rich and full.

On this day, in this place, just as you are, life is good. For you have the opportunity to live with passion and purpose.

You can explore, you can invent, you can question, you can taste, you can give, you can observe and you can build. You can commit your whole life to what you value and quickly move away from what you don't.

The possibilities spread out endlessly in every direction. And you are here, right now, to consider, select and act upon the ones that most appeal to you.

Life can be frustrating and challenging and painful, difficult and unfair. Even so, life is always good because you can always make it better, and in so doing you make it great.

-- Ralph Marston

The Cab Ride

The Cab Ride
I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes
I walked to the door and knocked. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.


After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.


By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.


There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.


'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.


She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb..


She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated'.


'Oh, you're such a good boy', she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive through downtown?'


'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..


'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry.. I'm on my way to a hospice'.


I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice. 'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.


'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.


For t he next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator..


We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.


Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.


As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired. Let's go now'.


We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.


Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.


I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.


'How much do I owe you?' she asked, reaching into her purse.


'Nothing,' I said


'You have to make a living,' she answered.


'There are other passengers,' I responded.


Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.


'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said.
'Thank you.'


I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life..


I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift?
What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?


On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.


We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.


But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.


PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID ~BUT~THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.