When I was growing up there was only one form of one on one daily communication. The telephone, which was a land line and only one phone per household. The telephone was located in a central part of the house and had to be used at that specific location. We had a telephone table which was a seat with a shelf on the right of the seat to hold the phone. Later, the phone was a wall hanging phone with a long cord that allowed you to move across the kitchen and still talk. What a convenience that was. You could actually do something else while you talked---like wash dishes or stir the pot on the stove. Who could have imagined cordless phones and 6 year olds with cell phones? Many houses, like the one we live in now ( built in the late forties), actually had a little alcove built into the wall in the hall to hold the phone. You not only had to share the phone with everyone who lived in the house with you, but also those on your party line. A party line meant you shared your phone with either two or four other households. Everyone had a different ring like one long ring and one short ring, two long rings, two short rings or one short ring followed by a long ring. If you picked up the phone to use it and somebody else was using it you could actually listen to their conversations. My Uncle Joe was known to eavesdrop. If the person heard the click they would say--I think someone is listening. Uncle Joe would say " Oh it is just poor old Joe, I am just dusting the phone". If it were a true emergency you would politely ask if you could use the phone. The worst part was when you were actually expecting a call and someone on your party line would keep it busy. Oh, life before cell phones.
I can't actually tell you when I got my first cell phone. Jim had a business phone very early on and it came in a bag about the size of a small breadbox. When the kids were relatively young in the early eighties, I was in graduate school during the summer. I was driving back and forth to Bowling Green and had no communication with them during the day. That was the first time in my life that being without a phone seemed to be a problem for me. Until then I just did not feel that being out of communication for a short period of time could be a problem. Until about five years ago, we always had a live answering service. We could always call them to get messages or to leave a message for someone who called. No one freaked out like today, if they can't reach someone immediately by phone. Oh---those were the days and today's children will never know that feeling. The total lack of immediateness of life. Today everyone has their own special ring tone so the caller will know who is on the other end before they pick up the phone. Before they can even look at the caller ID number! The surprise of who is on the other end is gone. Today, most people make a conscious decision of whether or not they want to talk to the caller, before they hear the voice. We were just so glad someone was calling, that they were able to get through to us and everyone was mostly glad to talk. Now days everyone has a zillion phones and call for the most stupid reasons. Young people for the most part can't save a thought and gather them all together to make one call. Every thought must be transmitted by phone or text message or e-mail or Instant Message individually and within nano moments of the thought racing through the head.
We are so inundated with all of the communication that it literally drives us to turn off the phone. Meetings are always punctuated with a cell phone ring--some of the ring tones give me
pause to wonder---"what were they thinking?'. I recently called my daughter by mistake during a school day. Her phone doesn't even work on school property, but it did on that particular day. The day before, she had enforced the no cell phones in class with one of her high school students. So not only did the phone ring, her purse was all the way on the other side of the room and the ring tone was a little embarrassing.
When Brittany went to college I would have never kept up with her any way except on her yellow cell phone. When Josh went to college, I finally learned to type. I couldn't type because I took typing in college and Robin couldn't stand for me to peck at the keys--- so she did my homework!! I always was fortunate to have someone who would do my typing until e-mail came along. Had to learn to do that myself. The best way I could communicate with him was e-mail. My daughter is a talker and my son is a writer.
There is also the instant phone texting which can occupy your thoughts when you are unable or it is inappropriate to talk. You can also read your e-mail via the phone. You can keep up with all of your friends and what they are having for lunch via facebook, via e-mail, via cell phone. What do you have to talk about when you get face to face??? Maybe I am just getting old and cranky, but TMI (too much information) makes me CRAZY.
What I think the most wonderful communication tool that really is a huge help is the FAX machine. The FAX changed business in an orderly and productive way that e-mail will never do. Faxes are usefull, but not all that much fun, especially the one at work that I have never been able to master. They are there for you when you want them but don't intrude when you don't. Bingo---not fun--not abused. Real messages, legal documents, reports, rough drafts, medical reports need to go anywhere---just FAX a copy, instantly. Don't get me wrong, I like e-mail and surfing the net---but for business purposes---FAX and telephones are definitely the most efficient in my opinion.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Mother Days
Mothers Day comes once a year but the most special days were my true mother days, October 11, 1977 and October 28, 1980. These were the days that I gave birth to my two beautiful babies. I can proudly say they were a true blessing to me then, as they are today. I am not sure how I got so lucky--but God blessed me with wonderful children who have turned into delightful adults and my two best friends. Last year was also special, because they were both married to spouses whom they truly loved and love them in return. How much better does life get?
I have only eaten out twice on Mothers Day. This morning I went out to eat breakfast alone. Don't feel sorry for me---Jim rode his midnight ride last night and had breakfast with his friends and I opted to stay home and sleep. We will celebrate the day with grilled steaks later this afternoon. I must tell you about the last time we ate lunch out on Mothers Day. I think it was probably 1979. All of the mothers in Jim's family decided we needed to go out for lunch. Josh and Wesley were 1 1 /2 and the other children, Jodi, Carrie, Jonas, Cindy and Mona were school age and preteens. There was probably a total of about twenty people and we went to Western Sizzling Steak House. It was a "not so upscale place" and you had to wait in line. It took at least two hours to get a table and by the time we did-- all of the kids including Josh (who never got cranky) were out of control. Jim was starving and always gets extremely irritable when he gets hungry. I think it took us about four hours. That was the day we swore that we would never go out for a holiday again!! And to this day---we haven't. I can't remember many of the details, but knew I never wanted to do it again.
One other Mothers Day will always stand out. It was 1997. Brittany had just gotten her drivers license and begged me to drive to the BBQ festival. I gave her all of the usual warnings about being careful and parking away from the most traffic. She did that, but didn't notice that she parked early in the afternoon and one of the popular taverns was just across the street. When she got ready to leave, she had an accident. It was Saturday night before Mothers Day and we were all wiped out the next day. That incident, as awful as it was---probably made us much closer. I was thankful it wasn't any worse and that my baby was safe and she was thankful, I was there for her.
By the time I was the only mother to spend the day with, my children were gone from the nest and gone from Owensboro. I am glad to have Josh and Jen here for all of our holidays. One out of two isn't bad. Brittany will always be here in spirit. She is so much like me that I have no problem reading her mind. Josh on the other hand---I need to see his eyes and then---I don't always know what is going on. What I do know without a doubt is they love me and neither are very hard on me about my parenting skills. My greatest gift is that I can still tell my kids (all four of them now) that I love them every time I talk to them.
When I drove back into the drive this morning I saw my bright pink azalea blooming and looking at me. It was from the last Mothers Day I spent with my Grandmother Heppler. She got it as a prize for being the oldest mother at Newman Baptist Church. Every year it blooms I remember her and it seems to beckon me when I pull in my drive. When the kids were young Newman also had a tradition of giving all of the mothers a flower on that Sunday. The best gifts for me were the ones made by their little hands and given with so much pride.
There was also the year that Brittany's teacher had them write about their mothers and had it published in the local paper. Brittany said, "I love my Mom because she lets me do anything I want if it isn't dangerous". I just knew that people thought my parenting skills lacked a lot. What they didn't know was that Brittany was a very "spirited" child and I learned very early that I had to pick my fights. If it wasn't dangerous or disrespectful--it usually wasn't worth fighting over.
Since my Mothers birthday was the 18th of May, there were many Mothers Days that were spent trying to make all of the rounds to all of the Moms and grandmothers and still do something special for Mom's birthday. It would sometimes get pretty hectic as the end of school
approached. I must say I miss those days and and I miss my mother and all of the others. Like most other holidays, I learned that it was easier to celebrate and host them at my house. My children don't remember many family gatherings except at home. I wish more than anything that Mom could have seen how Brittany and Josh turned out---she would be so proud and so would Granny Benson.
Happy Mothers Day to all of my friends who are moms and those who have helped me raise my children, most especially Donna Basham (emergency contact and friend). Have a great day Mr. Bloggeriffic--you do a fantastic job of both mothering and being a Daddy to Jarod.
I have only eaten out twice on Mothers Day. This morning I went out to eat breakfast alone. Don't feel sorry for me---Jim rode his midnight ride last night and had breakfast with his friends and I opted to stay home and sleep. We will celebrate the day with grilled steaks later this afternoon. I must tell you about the last time we ate lunch out on Mothers Day. I think it was probably 1979. All of the mothers in Jim's family decided we needed to go out for lunch. Josh and Wesley were 1 1 /2 and the other children, Jodi, Carrie, Jonas, Cindy and Mona were school age and preteens. There was probably a total of about twenty people and we went to Western Sizzling Steak House. It was a "not so upscale place" and you had to wait in line. It took at least two hours to get a table and by the time we did-- all of the kids including Josh (who never got cranky) were out of control. Jim was starving and always gets extremely irritable when he gets hungry. I think it took us about four hours. That was the day we swore that we would never go out for a holiday again!! And to this day---we haven't. I can't remember many of the details, but knew I never wanted to do it again.
One other Mothers Day will always stand out. It was 1997. Brittany had just gotten her drivers license and begged me to drive to the BBQ festival. I gave her all of the usual warnings about being careful and parking away from the most traffic. She did that, but didn't notice that she parked early in the afternoon and one of the popular taverns was just across the street. When she got ready to leave, she had an accident. It was Saturday night before Mothers Day and we were all wiped out the next day. That incident, as awful as it was---probably made us much closer. I was thankful it wasn't any worse and that my baby was safe and she was thankful, I was there for her.
By the time I was the only mother to spend the day with, my children were gone from the nest and gone from Owensboro. I am glad to have Josh and Jen here for all of our holidays. One out of two isn't bad. Brittany will always be here in spirit. She is so much like me that I have no problem reading her mind. Josh on the other hand---I need to see his eyes and then---I don't always know what is going on. What I do know without a doubt is they love me and neither are very hard on me about my parenting skills. My greatest gift is that I can still tell my kids (all four of them now) that I love them every time I talk to them.
When I drove back into the drive this morning I saw my bright pink azalea blooming and looking at me. It was from the last Mothers Day I spent with my Grandmother Heppler. She got it as a prize for being the oldest mother at Newman Baptist Church. Every year it blooms I remember her and it seems to beckon me when I pull in my drive. When the kids were young Newman also had a tradition of giving all of the mothers a flower on that Sunday. The best gifts for me were the ones made by their little hands and given with so much pride.
There was also the year that Brittany's teacher had them write about their mothers and had it published in the local paper. Brittany said, "I love my Mom because she lets me do anything I want if it isn't dangerous". I just knew that people thought my parenting skills lacked a lot. What they didn't know was that Brittany was a very "spirited" child and I learned very early that I had to pick my fights. If it wasn't dangerous or disrespectful--it usually wasn't worth fighting over.
Since my Mothers birthday was the 18th of May, there were many Mothers Days that were spent trying to make all of the rounds to all of the Moms and grandmothers and still do something special for Mom's birthday. It would sometimes get pretty hectic as the end of school
approached. I must say I miss those days and and I miss my mother and all of the others. Like most other holidays, I learned that it was easier to celebrate and host them at my house. My children don't remember many family gatherings except at home. I wish more than anything that Mom could have seen how Brittany and Josh turned out---she would be so proud and so would Granny Benson.
Happy Mothers Day to all of my friends who are moms and those who have helped me raise my children, most especially Donna Basham (emergency contact and friend). Have a great day Mr. Bloggeriffic--you do a fantastic job of both mothering and being a Daddy to Jarod.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Treasure Hunting
The Spring and Fall are my favorite times of the year to go treasure hunting. My treasure hunting involves getting up early on Saturdays to roam around town and visit garage sales. When the kids were young, anytime we took a walk we also looked for treasures--a feather,small broken toys, a special rock---anything could be a treasure. Not only do I find treasures but also meet interesting people. One day last Fall, I went to a sale that was run by a man, which is a little unusual. He had lots of red shirts in Jim's size(this man had been an avid Daviess County band parent whose colors were red). I told him that my husband played Santa and he looked at me and said you must be Sherry Benson. He knew Jim, and I was impressed that he knew my name. He was a wonderful man and we enjoyed a very pleasant conversation. I meet lots of old friends and visit with people in the community.
Last weekend, I found several treasures. I found an Otis Redding CD for Brittany with her special song that she played for George on their wedding day. I found a small sewing kit for 25 cents that included something that I really need---a small metal needle threader. I can never thread a needle anymore---I think they are making the eyes of the needles smaller as my eyes get weaker. My favorite treasure that day was a handmade white felt angel with angora wool hair. It came from an identical kit that my mother had bought at the old SW Anderson's Department store here in Owensboro. There were four angels in the kit, pink, blue, gold and white. There on a table with many forlorn articles, I saw my mothers hands as she carefully crafted the angels. I smiled and gave a nod to the skies as I made my purchase. One dollar for a great treasure and wonderful memory. I wonder how many people passed it by that day, before I got there. At my friend and supervisor's sale, I purchased a blue cornflower corning ware butter dish and lid. It had belonged to her mother. There is no telling how many pounds of butter has been served from that dish. I know most people use tubs of margarine from the grocery, but I still like stick butter---the real thing.
This past weekend, I had my monthly MOP group to volunteer at 11:00, so my treasure hunting was a little rushed. There was a $1.00 tea kettle that I found that I needed during the ice storm, 10 cents for a bag of lanterns to fit on Christmas lights, and a real deal on two matching tablecloths with ten napkins that I will use at one of my future catering projects---jewel tone plaids with bold colored napkins. White china cups and saucers to round out a set of plain white everyday china. With my purchase from Jen and Josh last year--an eight piece place setting for less than forty dollars. White will be a nice change for the Spring and Summer. I also purchased a hand embroidered pillowcase with a flower basket and a honey bee---since Reed calls me "B".
My home is filled with treasures and memories. Other than electronics, appliances and an occasional sofa (three to be exact in 38 years), everything has had a life somewhere else.
Buying new and retail never gives me the same feeling as reinventing a pre-loved object. This is my way of connecting the past to the present and hopefully to the future AND recycling.
One of my favorite treasures is a baby blue coffee mug with a gold nativity scene on it. The words in gold also say "Peace on Earth". It was late on a Saturday afternoon on one of the most elite neighborhoods in Owensboro. The sale had attracted big crowds because of the location. I walked by a table and there was the blue cup--calling me to pick it up. I picked the cup up and could tell it wasn't cheap. There was a tag on it that said "Free to a good Home". I knew that I would give it a good home and I cherish it every Christmas as I enjoy relaxing with a cup of coffee in my light blue living room. As always, I wondered how many people had passed that cup and couldn't commit to giving it a good home.
I leave a lot of treasure at the sales. I have new rules.
I must have an immediate use for it.
I must know where I will put it.
I will not buy things for other people unless it is really special!!! ( except Reed)
I will have fun and relax.
Last weekend, I found several treasures. I found an Otis Redding CD for Brittany with her special song that she played for George on their wedding day. I found a small sewing kit for 25 cents that included something that I really need---a small metal needle threader. I can never thread a needle anymore---I think they are making the eyes of the needles smaller as my eyes get weaker. My favorite treasure that day was a handmade white felt angel with angora wool hair. It came from an identical kit that my mother had bought at the old SW Anderson's Department store here in Owensboro. There were four angels in the kit, pink, blue, gold and white. There on a table with many forlorn articles, I saw my mothers hands as she carefully crafted the angels. I smiled and gave a nod to the skies as I made my purchase. One dollar for a great treasure and wonderful memory. I wonder how many people passed it by that day, before I got there. At my friend and supervisor's sale, I purchased a blue cornflower corning ware butter dish and lid. It had belonged to her mother. There is no telling how many pounds of butter has been served from that dish. I know most people use tubs of margarine from the grocery, but I still like stick butter---the real thing.
This past weekend, I had my monthly MOP group to volunteer at 11:00, so my treasure hunting was a little rushed. There was a $1.00 tea kettle that I found that I needed during the ice storm, 10 cents for a bag of lanterns to fit on Christmas lights, and a real deal on two matching tablecloths with ten napkins that I will use at one of my future catering projects---jewel tone plaids with bold colored napkins. White china cups and saucers to round out a set of plain white everyday china. With my purchase from Jen and Josh last year--an eight piece place setting for less than forty dollars. White will be a nice change for the Spring and Summer. I also purchased a hand embroidered pillowcase with a flower basket and a honey bee---since Reed calls me "B".
My home is filled with treasures and memories. Other than electronics, appliances and an occasional sofa (three to be exact in 38 years), everything has had a life somewhere else.
Buying new and retail never gives me the same feeling as reinventing a pre-loved object. This is my way of connecting the past to the present and hopefully to the future AND recycling.
One of my favorite treasures is a baby blue coffee mug with a gold nativity scene on it. The words in gold also say "Peace on Earth". It was late on a Saturday afternoon on one of the most elite neighborhoods in Owensboro. The sale had attracted big crowds because of the location. I walked by a table and there was the blue cup--calling me to pick it up. I picked the cup up and could tell it wasn't cheap. There was a tag on it that said "Free to a good Home". I knew that I would give it a good home and I cherish it every Christmas as I enjoy relaxing with a cup of coffee in my light blue living room. As always, I wondered how many people had passed that cup and couldn't commit to giving it a good home.
I leave a lot of treasure at the sales. I have new rules.
I must have an immediate use for it.
I must know where I will put it.
I will not buy things for other people unless it is really special!!! ( except Reed)
I will have fun and relax.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Age is Relavent
Lately, I have been feeling old. It could be because everyone my age is having birthdays that qualify them for social security. It could be because almost everyone I work with is considerably younger than me. Whatever the reason--I felt old. I have also figured out my desire to blog. When I was young, I was taught to respect my elders. This wasn't very difficult for me because I loved being around older people. They were so full of wisdom and I enjoyed hearing the stories of "how things used to be". Most of the people I worked with were considerably older than me and I had some wonderful mentors. My employees were much older and taught me so much. I lived in my own little world where I was "the youngest". I thought when I got to be their age there would be people who would want to learn from me. Everything is very different now! The age of technology and instant gratification is upon us. Twittering, or tweeter, facebook, instant message, cell phones and internet have catapulted young people into an age of "only what I want to know--when I want to know it" Young people don't have time for stories, they can instantly find the answers to their questions on the internet at their convenience and in brevity. They don't have time for stories and really don't want to listen.
This is why I feel the need to write, I need to tell my stories and nobody wants to listen.
Thursday, I attended a funeral of my beloved Sunday School teacher Bea Green. She was 95 years old. She was my spiritual mentor in my formative years. She was one of the older generation that helped to build my moral compass. She also was the person who taught me the books of the Bible. After nearly fifty years, I can still recite the entire list of the books of the Old Testament. Every time I hear the country song lyrics--everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to go NOW, I think of Bea. She was ready to go for as long as I remember. She played the piano by ear and wrote songs and poetry. When I ride across country, I think of a song she taught us about riding on the king's highway. It was a metaphor for riding with Jesus and I can appreciate all of what God made on the back of our Harley.
I think I may have been the youngest person at the funeral with the exception of family members. I sat next to a lady that came in alone and I have known her all of my life, but not well. She was dressed to perfection and her shoes and purse matched. She had on a lovely pastel pink suit and carried a cane. I am sure she is past 85, but not sure how far passed. She was a delight to talk to. She said that she dresses and gets out every day and still drives herself. Her body showed some age, but she definitely was young in spirit. My Aunt Lou sat next to me and she is seventy seven, I think. I only wish that I looked as good as she does and my other aunt that is also her age.
Age is definitely relavent and mostly mental.
This is why I feel the need to write, I need to tell my stories and nobody wants to listen.
Thursday, I attended a funeral of my beloved Sunday School teacher Bea Green. She was 95 years old. She was my spiritual mentor in my formative years. She was one of the older generation that helped to build my moral compass. She also was the person who taught me the books of the Bible. After nearly fifty years, I can still recite the entire list of the books of the Old Testament. Every time I hear the country song lyrics--everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to go NOW, I think of Bea. She was ready to go for as long as I remember. She played the piano by ear and wrote songs and poetry. When I ride across country, I think of a song she taught us about riding on the king's highway. It was a metaphor for riding with Jesus and I can appreciate all of what God made on the back of our Harley.
I think I may have been the youngest person at the funeral with the exception of family members. I sat next to a lady that came in alone and I have known her all of my life, but not well. She was dressed to perfection and her shoes and purse matched. She had on a lovely pastel pink suit and carried a cane. I am sure she is past 85, but not sure how far passed. She was a delight to talk to. She said that she dresses and gets out every day and still drives herself. Her body showed some age, but she definitely was young in spirit. My Aunt Lou sat next to me and she is seventy seven, I think. I only wish that I looked as good as she does and my other aunt that is also her age.
Age is definitely relavent and mostly mental.
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