Lesson learned early : Doctors are not Gods
When I was about 13 I was sick, I couldn't eat, and my stomach hurt. My folks called the doctor who came out to see me. He punched around my stomach, checked me over. I told him the ache was kinda up by my ribs on both side. ( My lower right quadrant was not tender.) He was a doctor but not a surgeon. So he suggested I go to a surgeon. So my folk took me to the surgeon who said it was appendicitis, and proceded to admit me to the hospital and do surgery. After the surgery I ran a high fever, then one day the nurse brought the old doctor in and she said, "Look she is yellow" So my diagnosis was changed to hepatitis. For that they gave me 2 large tablespoons of castor oil, morning and night!! After about a week, the yellow was all gone from my skin. I have told this story to doctors who cannot believe the treatment and that it worked. Has anyone ever known of that treatment for hepatitis? I was in the hospital 3 weeks for a surgery that wasn't needed. My mother and brother also had hepatitis but were treated by using pills. They never turned yellow. Because of my fever,then my hair all came out. Just what I needed as a teenager! It was not long after that that my dad and brother put in a septic system and bathroom. We had used an old 2 seater before. I think the hepatitis came from other school children that had it.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Rambling Thoughts
Why did people stand up, and yell and scream at Hoosier Basket Ball games? It was just a game?
Why did the principal take me aside and tell me I could do better if I tried. I was just third in the class. Others wanted to be better...were you not susposed to let the other person go first?
If Heaven had streets of gold, why did I like to run in the grass?
My parents took me to a political rally once. Why did the politican yell and get red in the face like a preacher did? Their message did not seem the same.
Cleaning wallpaper after burning a coal stove during the winter. You would take a big gob of wallpaper cleaner and swipe it down the paper, then you would kneed the dirt inside the ball. Repeat that about a 1000 times. The coal stove kept you warm and cleaning the wall paper kept you warm too.
When we moved then I found out about hanging wallpaper. I had bought the paper, read the directions, Had everything out of the room, and was ready to hang new paper. I put the wall paper paste on as directed, and started with the ceiling. It fell off, I tried again, it fell off. So I go downstairs (before cell phones) and called Aunt Dorothy. She wall papered all the time. She just said use more paste. So I used more paste, the paper fell off, so I called Aunt Dorothy again and she said Use more Paste. I had more paste, on both sides before I finally got a piece of paper on the ceiling. Two rooms and a stairway later. I never put up wall paper again!! I did occasionally learn something!
My dad always made a trip to Indianapolis when he sold his cattle. I would get to go with mom to the big downtown stores. My first esculators, and elevators, and all the things of civilization. And we would always have lunch at Woolworths. It was a day of treats. My dad always took us in and out of town on the truck route. It was where the trains ran, and the very poorest people lived. I asked him ONE TIME why we never went down Fall Creek Boulevard where the beautiful houses were. He said " This way, you will be content with what you have when you get home" He was a wise man and I have always been content with what I had.
My mother grew up in her grandfathers home. She never liked antique furniture, as that was what she always had. So when she took me to my great Aunt Mead's I was enthralled by her house and furniture. Especially a picture on her dining room wall of a dead woman laying on a funny looking table. I would always take a good look at that picture! She also had an old foot pump orgain. Occasionally I could play a little bit. Not that I could play, that was probably why it was only a short time. Then on the back porch she had an oak icebox. Have you priced one of those lately? And upstairs she had dark walnut dressers with big mirrors and marble tops. I always had to be on my best behavior and after squirming around a bit I was put outside to the sidewalks to skip under the grape vines etc .At that time, my mom and her cousin were the only relatives left to take care of her. That must have taught me another lesson. But to this day I enjoy the antique road show!
Why did the principal take me aside and tell me I could do better if I tried. I was just third in the class. Others wanted to be better...were you not susposed to let the other person go first?
If Heaven had streets of gold, why did I like to run in the grass?
My parents took me to a political rally once. Why did the politican yell and get red in the face like a preacher did? Their message did not seem the same.
Cleaning wallpaper after burning a coal stove during the winter. You would take a big gob of wallpaper cleaner and swipe it down the paper, then you would kneed the dirt inside the ball. Repeat that about a 1000 times. The coal stove kept you warm and cleaning the wall paper kept you warm too.
When we moved then I found out about hanging wallpaper. I had bought the paper, read the directions, Had everything out of the room, and was ready to hang new paper. I put the wall paper paste on as directed, and started with the ceiling. It fell off, I tried again, it fell off. So I go downstairs (before cell phones) and called Aunt Dorothy. She wall papered all the time. She just said use more paste. So I used more paste, the paper fell off, so I called Aunt Dorothy again and she said Use more Paste. I had more paste, on both sides before I finally got a piece of paper on the ceiling. Two rooms and a stairway later. I never put up wall paper again!! I did occasionally learn something!
My dad always made a trip to Indianapolis when he sold his cattle. I would get to go with mom to the big downtown stores. My first esculators, and elevators, and all the things of civilization. And we would always have lunch at Woolworths. It was a day of treats. My dad always took us in and out of town on the truck route. It was where the trains ran, and the very poorest people lived. I asked him ONE TIME why we never went down Fall Creek Boulevard where the beautiful houses were. He said " This way, you will be content with what you have when you get home" He was a wise man and I have always been content with what I had.
My mother grew up in her grandfathers home. She never liked antique furniture, as that was what she always had. So when she took me to my great Aunt Mead's I was enthralled by her house and furniture. Especially a picture on her dining room wall of a dead woman laying on a funny looking table. I would always take a good look at that picture! She also had an old foot pump orgain. Occasionally I could play a little bit. Not that I could play, that was probably why it was only a short time. Then on the back porch she had an oak icebox. Have you priced one of those lately? And upstairs she had dark walnut dressers with big mirrors and marble tops. I always had to be on my best behavior and after squirming around a bit I was put outside to the sidewalks to skip under the grape vines etc .At that time, my mom and her cousin were the only relatives left to take care of her. That must have taught me another lesson. But to this day I enjoy the antique road show!
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Church suppers etc
Church was a big part of our country life. Not only was it personal but a community together.
Have you ever tasted good fried chicken. And certainly not from the fast food resturants. First you would go out and catch the chicken, a young one about 3 months old or about 3 pounds: you could tell by feeling the leg. Next you would kill the chicken, I always liked to put a broom handle on the neck, step on both sides and pull hard and quick, then throw the chicken because the blood would splatter all over until the chicken quit protesting having it's head removed! Then you have a bucket of boiling water ready to dip the chicken in until the feathers would pull off easily. Next, you pull all the feathers and quills out and get it clean, take it into the sink to gut it and reclean the chicken. I'll spare you the gutting part. When the chicken was butchered and clean, then you rolled each piece in flour and fried it in a hot skillet of soft lard. I can still smell it cooking! Now that was fried chicken. We did not have freezers yet.
The ladies at church would almost always take fried chicken. I remember that they would be very careful of whose chicken they ate. Some people cleaned better than others. One time they even threw a chicken out because it had some pin feathers on the skin. I would hear the ladies talkng! It was best to have the ladies incharge, because one time some men got together and killed a goat, they ground up the meat, and said they were having free hamburgers. Everyone had a great time, saying it was the best hamburger. Then the men took everyone outside where they had the goat head propped up on a box like a coffin. I heard that some even lost their suppers!! Yes, the evening meal was always supper. It was just the farming way.
In the spring the water was up in the creek. Maybe even 2 foot deep in places, and the carp would come up on the ripple. Farmers around would come and shoot the carp and because I loved the water even when it was cold. I would go in and bring the fish out. My mom would fry that in flour and soft lard too. No my cholesteral has never been elevated, but neither do I eat that way anymore. The other story connected to the creek, was that it came through a town about 12 miles upstream that had a canning factory who dumped all their trash in the creek. By the time it came to our farm, the water was black and you could smell it a mile away. Yes,
Some things have changed for the better!
Have you ever tasted good fried chicken. And certainly not from the fast food resturants. First you would go out and catch the chicken, a young one about 3 months old or about 3 pounds: you could tell by feeling the leg. Next you would kill the chicken, I always liked to put a broom handle on the neck, step on both sides and pull hard and quick, then throw the chicken because the blood would splatter all over until the chicken quit protesting having it's head removed! Then you have a bucket of boiling water ready to dip the chicken in until the feathers would pull off easily. Next, you pull all the feathers and quills out and get it clean, take it into the sink to gut it and reclean the chicken. I'll spare you the gutting part. When the chicken was butchered and clean, then you rolled each piece in flour and fried it in a hot skillet of soft lard. I can still smell it cooking! Now that was fried chicken. We did not have freezers yet.
The ladies at church would almost always take fried chicken. I remember that they would be very careful of whose chicken they ate. Some people cleaned better than others. One time they even threw a chicken out because it had some pin feathers on the skin. I would hear the ladies talkng! It was best to have the ladies incharge, because one time some men got together and killed a goat, they ground up the meat, and said they were having free hamburgers. Everyone had a great time, saying it was the best hamburger. Then the men took everyone outside where they had the goat head propped up on a box like a coffin. I heard that some even lost their suppers!! Yes, the evening meal was always supper. It was just the farming way.
In the spring the water was up in the creek. Maybe even 2 foot deep in places, and the carp would come up on the ripple. Farmers around would come and shoot the carp and because I loved the water even when it was cold. I would go in and bring the fish out. My mom would fry that in flour and soft lard too. No my cholesteral has never been elevated, but neither do I eat that way anymore. The other story connected to the creek, was that it came through a town about 12 miles upstream that had a canning factory who dumped all their trash in the creek. By the time it came to our farm, the water was black and you could smell it a mile away. Yes,
Some things have changed for the better!
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
More on the farming community
Before cornpickers, corn was shucked by hand. I only remember helping one year. It was cold, the corn stalks cut your skin and made it itch. It was cold and wet with a light snow. I was probably too young to do much and too young to stay home by myself! Then there were shocks of oats. All those things made a pretty farm, and what places to crawl under and hide.
Barns were a great place to climb around and walk on the high beams. We did not need exercise gyms. We had it all. And you could jump into piles of hay, and sit in corn cribs and make corn necklaces with a needle and thread. There were new kittens under the barn step each year. I would reach under there and pull a fluffy kitten out, until the year I reached under the step and pulled a dead kitten out with maggots in it.! That was the end of that way of catching kittens.
One summer I went down by the creek and across the fence on Mr. Levi's property. There I picked wild blackberries. I finally had enough and started home and there was Mr. Levi following me inhis car. He went ever so slow, Just about as fast as I could run. I was so scared because I knew it was his land and his berries. I ran to the house about half a mile and told mom. He drove up and came to the door. My mother apologized for me and offered him the berries. He said no, he just wanted to see if I got home ok. It scared me, I didn't pick any more berries when he owned the farm next door. And maybe I learned a lesson too.
We had 4-H clubs Showing the pigs and horses were much more fun than making a tea towel. One yeaar we had a 4-H leader who had us square dancing. That was a lot of fun. Her daughter and mine became good friends in later life.. I remember my son had to take a sewing class in Jr. High. He made a down vest and sewed all the pockets shut. His sister rescued him, fixing it for him
There was also MYF on Sunday nights and then Church camp in the summer for a week. Church Camp was on Lake Webster, a church would take their group and rent a house on the lake for a week. The church women would go and cook. WE went to classes and it was hard to sit through Paul's journeys when there was a whole lake of water out there. But they did give us time for both. I went several years. I think it was the last year, that my boyfriend wanted me to climb out the window and slide down a tree so we could take a walk by the lake after dark.
So I climbed out on the roof, and then was afraid of not being able to reach over for that tree. He was coaxing me, Come on you can do it. So I did, but unknown to me They All had it planned and had coated the tree with molasses, and then water pans at the bottom. Oh, I was so wretchedly embarrased and run to my room. Some nice lady,cleaned my sweater for me. And I did live the next day
There were also the community rodeo's The barrel racing was the most fun for me. It was just fun to ride somewhere and have someone to ride with. The whole family rode.
Barns were a great place to climb around and walk on the high beams. We did not need exercise gyms. We had it all. And you could jump into piles of hay, and sit in corn cribs and make corn necklaces with a needle and thread. There were new kittens under the barn step each year. I would reach under there and pull a fluffy kitten out, until the year I reached under the step and pulled a dead kitten out with maggots in it.! That was the end of that way of catching kittens.
One summer I went down by the creek and across the fence on Mr. Levi's property. There I picked wild blackberries. I finally had enough and started home and there was Mr. Levi following me inhis car. He went ever so slow, Just about as fast as I could run. I was so scared because I knew it was his land and his berries. I ran to the house about half a mile and told mom. He drove up and came to the door. My mother apologized for me and offered him the berries. He said no, he just wanted to see if I got home ok. It scared me, I didn't pick any more berries when he owned the farm next door. And maybe I learned a lesson too.
We had 4-H clubs Showing the pigs and horses were much more fun than making a tea towel. One yeaar we had a 4-H leader who had us square dancing. That was a lot of fun. Her daughter and mine became good friends in later life.. I remember my son had to take a sewing class in Jr. High. He made a down vest and sewed all the pockets shut. His sister rescued him, fixing it for him
There was also MYF on Sunday nights and then Church camp in the summer for a week. Church Camp was on Lake Webster, a church would take their group and rent a house on the lake for a week. The church women would go and cook. WE went to classes and it was hard to sit through Paul's journeys when there was a whole lake of water out there. But they did give us time for both. I went several years. I think it was the last year, that my boyfriend wanted me to climb out the window and slide down a tree so we could take a walk by the lake after dark.
So I climbed out on the roof, and then was afraid of not being able to reach over for that tree. He was coaxing me, Come on you can do it. So I did, but unknown to me They All had it planned and had coated the tree with molasses, and then water pans at the bottom. Oh, I was so wretchedly embarrased and run to my room. Some nice lady,cleaned my sweater for me. And I did live the next day
There were also the community rodeo's The barrel racing was the most fun for me. It was just fun to ride somewhere and have someone to ride with. The whole family rode.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
Work for the Night is Coming
The years mesh in and out, woven with memories here and there. A mosiac more grand tha I could ever have painted or imagined.
"WORK for the night is coming, when man WORKS no more" a hymn often sang in a little country church in a hard working rural community.
Whe I look a Jlo's art, I see not a field of play, but what looks like WORK to me.
And I think of my dad who Plowed and tilled the fields, planted the seeds and pulled the weeds, then harvested the land.. It was a WORK of love. When I remember the hours I painted, it was a WORK not play, The gift I had was perserverence. So we have different gifts, some the ability to make music, and others the gift to listen and enjoy.
So let us " WORK for the night is coming, when man WORKS no more"
Sleigh rides
On a cold winter night, my uncle brought his grandsons to our house in a one horse open sleigh. While mom made cocoa, my uncle took me for a ride. He had a bear skin rug to put over our laps. It was a cold, clear night with stars and a moon. It felt like we were gliding through the night. All too soon the ride was over, but I can still experience the memory in my mind.
I remember a bob sled ride, and a few others from my youth.
Later, my daughter took me, a sister in law ,and 2 neices on a horse drawn sleigh ride in Vail. Belgiums were pulling the sleigh. We had a great ride then too. The guide, told us that Gerold Ford had a home up on the mountian side that he had to use a helicopter to get inand out of. I wonder if tax payers money?
I have always loved the belguin horses, the big gentle giants, and often went to the National Western Horse Show in Denver. May you all have a chance to see them dancing!!
Just wear shoes when you are around them, They weigh a lot if they step on your foot.
I remember a bob sled ride, and a few others from my youth.
Later, my daughter took me, a sister in law ,and 2 neices on a horse drawn sleigh ride in Vail. Belgiums were pulling the sleigh. We had a great ride then too. The guide, told us that Gerold Ford had a home up on the mountian side that he had to use a helicopter to get inand out of. I wonder if tax payers money?
I have always loved the belguin horses, the big gentle giants, and often went to the National Western Horse Show in Denver. May you all have a chance to see them dancing!!
Just wear shoes when you are around them, They weigh a lot if they step on your foot.
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