THE CHANGING OF THE FLOWERS

In the spring

We wait for the tulips

Followed by lilacs

Then iris

Peonies

Showy Lady Slippers

Fields of daisies

And gladiola

Grandma Mae had a garden of glads. We were not allowed in that garden lest we should break this beautiful flowers stalks. She planted the bulbs in rows as if they were carrots. I always wanted to bunch them together to make a bouquet. I wonder how many of those bulbs were several years old. How many years can they bloom, do you know?

That only happened when she picked a variety of colors and brought them into the house. She painstakingly removed the stems as the blossoms withered. She was careful to select them from different rows to make the garden still look plentiful. She did not plant according to color.

Grandma Ranum, one the other hand, grew Hollyhocks. She allowed the picking of the blossoms; one full bloom for the body, and one bud for the head to make a doll. The two pieces were held together with a half a tooth pick.

Do you remember flowers in your grand mother's garden? Did you have a favorite?

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GO BLONDE???

I am not giggling because I am a wrinkled person, I am giggling because it is said that if you have blonde hair to frame your face, wrinkles aren't as noticable.

Try telling yourself when you are looking in an 8x magnified mirror. Try telling yourself when you are looking for new glasses in said mirror and one looks at the wrinkles instead of the glass frames.

Now, I have a great friend in Michigan, who, indeed, goes blonde at 72+ because her hair dresser told her that it softened the wrinkles. She has been softening so long, she doesn't know what her natural color is.

I am wondering how long it will be before I am the silver haired bass fisher person. At that time, is it sensible to go blonde? Will I have more fun?

Wondering as the bottles of color dance on the shelf in stores.

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RUN RACHEL, RUN

Dixie was a nervous sort. The doctor asked her if she walked much. She said she did. She walked to the Kwik Shoppe every day and bought a candy bar and ate it on the way home. She couldn't understand why she was gaining weight, after all, she was walking. Doctor told her to walk to Clinton Lake and back each day, a round trip of about eight miles. She actually found more comfort in walking than she did in the candy bar. She used her mental energy for walking instead of worrying. Way to go!

When visiting D&L, there was always a walk to the main road involved. If not, then, at least to the bridge.

Daddy walked two miles to school each day. At one time, as an elementary school student, we lived more than a mile from school. It was walked in nearly all weather conditions. When it was really cold, Mr. Wilson would take us in his old truck.

Although walking is now popular, running is even more so. Me? No, I ran after Bud for 11 days when he was four and learning how to ride a bike. I could run faster than all the scouts in the troop I was honored to lead. I ran from one base to another in softball and I ran after ponies when they got out of the fence.

I have recently connected with a relative on Mother's side. She is a runner. She now does a 12 minute mile. My own daughter has started run training. She is doing a 17 minute mile. There was to be a rush somewhere here and beating one's own time seems like the prize. Never the less, in front of God and everyone, I do wish to congratulate her on her latest fitness addition.

Such fun it was in the spring and fall when the boys from high school would run past our house as part of conditioning. We may or may not have been doing them a favor by setting the sprinkler on the side walk but we were certain we where.

Hats off to Rachel!
Run Rachel, Run!

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ANOTHER 50TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY

It doesn't seem possible that 1960 was 50 years ago. Does it? Hey, we were all young, beautiful, and abounded with energy!

Yet, Karen and Rollie were! She was a June bride, I would love to see pictures!

They have been celebrating with their families for the last couple of weeks. Her daughter made/brought the cake from Illinois to Wisconsin. The celebrated at church.

When I think about 50th anniversaries, I think about my grand parents and what they had with each other. I wish that for Karen and Rollie, too!

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THE YEAR WAS 1911

This is a special memory day for me, not that I was around 99 years ago when my grand parents were married but because they married one of their children married and I was born!

I like to think they were a happy couple. Times were tough, I know that, after all their parents were all immigrants from Norway, living not 100 miles apart but no roads, mountains in the way, and who had a bright red convertible to go courting even if..............

Grandpa was most likely doing carpentry in 1911, we know from the 1910 census that Grandma was a domestic in Thief River Falls, MN although they most likely knew each other from Strip, later called Rosewood as both their parents had land in the area of New Solum. It would not surprise me at all the all the Opseth's and the Ranum's were together at times, whether it be social or spiritual functions. The guys may have played ball together or worked together for that matter.

What we generally learn about these pioneers is simple, the the need to help each other far out weighs the church you belonged to. It is called survival.

Benhard and Julia lived in Rosewood until about 1947 when they moved to Thief River Falls. They would build a series of several hours over the years and, as Grandpa said, "Build up the bank account, don't want to die in the poor house". A term, at the time, I thought was a joke, but for those of you who have read any history of your family, you know the poor house and the fear of living there is very real, just as real as the fear of being buried in the pauper's field.

It is hard to know just when Grandma worked at NuWay Cafe, I do know she was very restless and needed something to do. She cooked, baked, and of course, like anyone in the restaurant business, washed dishes.

My grandparents lived with us one month short of two years. They were, for all practical applications, my parents, my mentors. It wasn't until I was reunited with Tom did I feel as safe as I did sitting in my grandmother's lap as she rocked and hummed, and crochet. I was truly amazed when I realized I wasn't going there in my mind for peace and security. I adored her and all she stood for. There were no conditions. None.

And then, there was grandpa with his teasing personality and his huge belly laugh. To mimic him would mean deep breaths from the toes and throwing ones head back to let out the music of the laugh. He was already my age when their service on Oakland Park Road began. Yet, he helped me catch a chipmunk in the garage for me to sell.

As they moved around town in new houses, they met new people. They were the kind of people the neighborhood enjoyed. The had an open door policy for the children and the cookie jar was always full.

For sport, they played cards with old friends, the women against the men. Grandpa said he would teach me to play but I could not look in the discard pile, I had to remember what was tossed. An early lesson applied to other things as well.

They would celebrate their 50th anniversary with a party on the lawn at their house on Arnold Avenue. When someone asked Benhard what he was going to do next he stated he was going to get himself a spring chicken. Grandmother announced he would be dead in a week if he did. She did not state if she would do him in or the chick would.

Grandma died in the fall of 1966. Grandpa had cataract surgery. He still played cards. He still whistled a no tune, and he still drummed on the table. He wrote his bike around town but missed his wife more than I will ever know.

Sweet memories linger.

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HUMAN FIRE PLUGS

It was bad enough with the diaper detail a couple of weeks ago but then, because I am that way, I over drank. Over drank to the point I might have put out a fire. And my sweet Thomas says, "Hold it." Well, my holder doesn't always hold. Besides, it didn't work for Uncle Bennie after prostate surgery when his brother told him to "Hold it, it will make your bladder bigger."

I mixed up my fluids and take at least 25% in the food. Of course if you have a nice cold slice of watermelon~~let's move on.

Let's get to the top. There was an old riddle when I was a kid. Cruel as it may sound, it was tricks to walk up to some poor soul and say, "You must have seven holes in your head".

Let me tell you, it has been a seven holes in my head sort of week. I am not willing to state I have allergies to something out there in Fargo land, yet my nose itches and runs. It is okay, we have 200 boxes of tissues. Well, almost.

Then, I have this itchy, wet ear thing. I cut my finger nails off because I was digging in them and making it worse. That is two fold, I had my pointers sharpened to fit and of course I was introducing junk into my out ear. Last night, sometime well after I was asleep, I woke up digging. I knew where the drops where and pattered down stairs, put drops in, stuffed them with cotton and went back to sleep. This morning, Tom was asking me if he should start my coffee, finally he touched me. I said, "WHAT?" I saw his mouth moving. I must have shouted because he had that look on his face. I said, "I can't hear you, I have cotton in my ears".

I read somewhere recently that if you swish hydrogen peroxide around in your mouth for ten minutes, (like when you take a shower), it will whiten your teeth. That lasted about 10 seconds.

Which brings me to eyes. Those of you who know me well, know that I have cataracts on both eyes, which do not disturb my vision and cupping which leads to glaucoma. But we aren't at the drop stage yet and when we get there, I will have long, lovely eye lashes.

I went back to the eye guy yesterday for a recheck. Yep, the cupping is still there but hasn't changed and the pressures are lower than last time, (must be all the cooked veggies which are easier to digest than meat and raw foods).

So the pre-exam, you know, the one where someone comes in and asks you if you have had any surgeries or changes in medication since your last visit, which was six weeks ago. Then she asks if I am using hot compresses on my eyes twice a day. Well, folks, that means WATER!!! They had not told me to use compresses, I told her. She said, "It is in the notes". Shut up!

So then the doctor comes in and does the same thing and he sees I have a sty starting so he says, get this: "Use hot compresses four times a day and put this on your eye lid after each time". Okay, I am alright with that. I can do that. I trust this man.

Before I left, they did a field of vision test where you sit with your head against a bar and press a button when you see light. Before the in-the-notes-person was starting, she figured the machine didn't work because she could see my eye. Well, dah, I had my eyes closed.

Now the topic of conversation at the table last night was eyes. Tom knew every term and why. I told him about the compresses and the drops. He said that worked but better yet would be to use very warm water while showering and wash my lids with shampoo and a massaging like motion. I am looking at him like for real? Now, the problem is, I trust Tom with my life, just as I trusted my grandmother. So I told him I would try it although we did not have any Johnson's Baby Shampoo because these Johnson's don't have a baby, we don't even have a dog! He said the shampoo we had for silver hair doesn't burn and assured me he does it every shower.

Before I went to bed, I hot packed and wiggled my toes because it was really hot and I put the drops in. When I got up to fix my ears, my eyes were NOT stuck shut.

But when I woke up this morning, they were. Oh this was fun. So I ambulated to the bathroom by feel. By this time, I had the cotton out of my ears. I heard Tom say that I was trying to go into the north bedroom. I wondered why the door to the bathroom was shut and the knob was on the wrong side.

I hot packed the tossed yet another wash cloth over the side of the tub. I put in the drops and finally made it to the computer and got coffee.

And that is the whole story and all of it is true. And what did I learn? This is, beyond having seven fire plugs in my head? That the lube that washes one's eye can thicken up and that plugs up the tear ducts.

Getting old is not for sissies

FIRE HYDRANTS

Sometimes it is hard to believe that fire departments have only been established for 100 years in a city the size of Lawrence, Kansas. Old Trunks wonders what was available before the hydrants, as we know them. Certainly some form of fire prevention was used.

My grand parents called them fire plugs. My question for you today is, why did they call them that? Have you heard the term?

Well, it seems that still existing in Europe, is an under ground water system where there are holes cut in red wood and marked on a map. This redwood covers are removed, the hose goes into the water, and fire fighting begins. After the fire, the hole is plugged up. Fire plugs.

The first above ground units were made of wood, later they would be cast iron as we know of them today. Ours is right across the street, it is red and has a post with a sign high above it. Why? Because in the winter, the hydrant is covered with snow. A few times a year, someone comes with a wrench opens it up and I suppose checks the pressure. We like to think they do it on hot days and it cools the street but that is a fantasy. :)

We had a fire hydrant close to our house in Lawrence. The summer of 1976 the city father's suggested they be painted like 1776 people. The only thing you may not do is color the top, ours was green. They even furnished the paint. The agreement was the painted plug would remain decorated until it was in need of painting then the city would cover the design.

We painted ours like Snoopy the summer of 1976, in the fall of 1983, with touch ups every spring, Snoopy, as you can see by the photo was still after the Red Baron. This is Ryen and Snoopy.

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