When They Were boys

After his fall on the ice -- his trip to the E.R -- and his near death experience -- I guess it's to be expected that John and I would have a conversation about funerals and where we want to be buried.  As it happens, I really don't care that much.

But -- talking about our funerals reminded me of a post I wrote way back in 2013.  When John was inducted into the Holland Club...and we made an epic road trip from Iowa to Chicago to Groton, Connecticut.

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The first nuclear submarine was commissioned in 1953 by President Truman. The USS Nautilus, which is on permanent display in Groton, Connecticut.





The tents for the ceremony were set up on the Nautilus dock....and that huge submarine is a very impressive thing to be in the shadow of.

John served on the USS Haddo SSN604.

The Haddo was the same class of submarine as the Thresher and the Scorpion -- the two nuclear submarines that went down with full crews. What those Cold War sailors did during those tense days when both sides had nuclear weapons locked and loaded  was extraordinary. And dangerous. And historic. And most of those men never, ever talked about it.


After their Navy enlistment was up -- they walked off the boat and spread out across the country.  They were eager to get regular jobs and live the American Dream. 


John became an electrician in Washington D.C.. His friend Pat McGovern became a Illinois State Patrolman. Joseph O'Hara was an insurance man in Pennsylvania. Their friend Matey worked construction. They blended back into society -- by simply putting one foot in front of the other. They were deliriously happy not to be under water for 90 days at a time. Maybe ANY job looked good...


For 30 years, John rarely talked about what he did in the Navy.  He was too busy doing all the stuff that makes up a normal life. Working, paying bills, golfing when he could, arguing with his wife. The usual highs and lows...

But in recent years -- and especially on this special day -- these men seemed eager to talk. And this Admiral enjoyed listening.  He had a lot of questions about a particular Mediterranean patrol...


NOW -- 50 years later -- when these men get together -- THEY ALL KNOW WHAT THEY DID. Only with the benefit of time do they really understand that they were a part of something extraordinary. The Navy provided them with schools, experience and training that served them throughout their adult lives. But beyond that -- being a sailor on a nuclear submarine was a measurement in so many ways. It was a daily test that required brains and strength, quick-thinking and patience. They learned who they are and what they were capable of. They relied on one another because their lives depended on it.



Like many other people that morning, I watched the ceremony through tears. Because the men being honored are old now. Their submarine service happened 50 years ago -- when they were young men. Kids, really...

I wonder if all the men being inducted that day felt the same way John did.  With the pictures of them as young sailors, and the speeches, and the music -- nobody does it up like the Navy.  But, at the end of the day -- it was bittersweet.  Because John felt like he was attending his own funeral.

When he said that, I realized that was EXACTLY why I'd been crying all day.  Then I told him it was actually a pretty good way to look at it.  Because, for the record, this deal was WAY better than his Iowa funeral is gonna be...

My Friend Janet

Dear Blog Readers,

You are the best. You read this blog -- you sew, you laugh, we share stuff. And you almost NEVER yell at me. That's the very definition of a good girl friend.

I feel like we're in this thing together -- and even though we maybe never met -- I know you.

You are somebody's daughter, mother, sister, friend. When I write this blog, I think of you as my "sewing sisters".

And there is nothing more important to a woman's sanity than having other women as friends.

This is a piece I wrote for a writing class. The assignment was to write a letter to somebody you've lost. I wrote to my college roommate Janet.

She died almost 20 years ago. I try to make the most of every day...maybe a teeny little bit because she never had that much time.... And I miss her.

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Dear Janet,

When Steve Jobs died of pancreatic cancer, I thought about you.  You always made me believe you were going to beat it. It was like that with us. From our first day as roommates at Wartburg College, I believed everything you told me. You were the smartest girl in the dorm and we all knew it.

You learned everything about everybody. It was a gift. You would meet a new person, and within the first 20 minutes – they would spill out their whole life story. But you were private. It was as though not talking about your childhood would make it disappear. But I knew that freshman year in college was the moment you’d been waiting for…your chance to get out in the world.

Everybody hung out in our room. You had a stereo with surround sound, every Johnny Mathis album AND you could play the guitar. I remember your soft alto voice singing “Where Have All The Flowers Gone?” You introduced me to so many things –-- blowing smoke rings, Dostoyevsky, Slo Gin Fizzes, Ayn Rand. Of course – poetry. Although, I didn’t get Rod McKuen any more than I got the Woody Allen movies you loved so much…

A bunch of us would play cards and smoke cigarettes and talk and laugh until 4:00 in the morning – but you were the only one who never missed an early morning class. You were on a full scholarship and you needed good grades. You were so happy to be there – you loved every class and you made it look so easy. You breezed through English Lit, you were the top student in the psychology department -- and the only person I ever met who could use the word existentialism in a sentence.

I didn’t know until 30 years later how hard it really was. Even though we were roommates, I didn’t notice that you only had two bras. I didn’t know you worked those three part time jobs because you were sending money back to your bipolar Mom in Ohio.

You were fighting pancreatic cancer when you told me about the day your family drove the 600 miles to Waverly, Iowa, with your college supplies packed in the trunk of a borrowed car. You were terrified that something would go wrong. You did the driving…with your Mom in the passenger seat, reading the map you had memorized. Your younger sister was in the backseat with your lobotomized uncle. They had to come along because there was no place for them to stay -- and you had been taking care of them for so long – they couldn’t manage without you. When you stopped at an Illinois restaurant for lunch, your uncle drove the car away. You stood in the parking lot -- knowing it was all gone. Your album collection, the second hand stereo, the new clothes....every single thing you owned or cared about was in the trunk of that car.

It was six hours before the highway patrol brought him back…

The night you told me that story, I cried myself to sleep in your California guest room. Sad because we’d been best friends for 30 years and you never told me about your uncle. Sad because you’d lost 60 pounds by that time and could barely talk. Sad because you never got over being shamed by them....

Mostly –Janet, I was sad because I no longer believed you were going to beat it...

Abraham Lincoln Luncheon

Our weather has been SO BAD -- Scott Community College had to cancel a luncheon I'd signed up for this week. It was about Abraham Lincoln...and I was looking forward to it.

But I wasn't the ONLY person affected by the icy road conditions. The good news is -- it's been rescheduled. THREE WEEKS FROM NOW...and I am hopeful...

I originally wrote this post in 2013...(remember, Linda?)...

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The Outing Club is the Davenport, Iowa version of the tony "members only" country club for rich people. Like most of those clubs -- the Outing Club has fallen on hard times. The fabulous old mansion that used to host the weddings of the elite -- and debutante balls -- is not so relevant in 2013. But even though it's looking a little worn...

It is still the grandest lady in town...

And I love the fact that they've opened it up for more public events -- partnering with the local colleges to run luncheon events, etc. This is the balcony and ceiling medallion in the grand ballroom. See what I mean??

On this day in January -- the event was a luncheon with a speaker who was a local historian. Our local history involves some Indians, some corrupt politicians, the murder of Colonel Davenport...Antoinne LeClaire was a fascinating person....I LOVE THIS STUFF...

I went with my cousin Linda. The food was terrific, too! Roast pork AND a catfish fillet. Who knew??

And -- hey -- how often do you get a chance to eat in a room lit by a dozen crystal chandeliers??

Thanks for setting it up, Linda! Hey -- GREAT COAT!!

DO NOT FALL..!!

John's fall was a bad one...but, we got lucky.  He didn't break anything...and I am very thankful for that.  Looking for some re-run blogs to post, I came across this one from 2013...Warren was a newborn baby, Lilly was just 3 years old...

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Lillian loves her little zebra sofa and footstool that I made for her at Christmas. The week after Emily got home with Warren -- she was so busy -- she asked if I could come help out. I had completely forgotten HOW MUCH WORK a newborn baby can be.

Emily was in the basement, working (they have a home-based business).  I was upstairs, hoping the baby doesn't wake up from his nap, trying to cook some food, entertain a toddler...the phone is ringing off the wall...YIKES...

I got caught up in the rushing...and in a moment of complete inattention -- I tripped over the adorable little foam footstool. OH MY GOD...I AM GOING DOWN...I CAN'T BELIEVE IT...MY LEGS HAVE COMPLETELY GONE OUT FROM UNDER ME...THERE'S NO STOPPING IT....I AM GOING TO HIT THE CORNER OF THEIR HEAVY WOODEN COFFEE TABLE...

In the middle of my fall -- I tried to twist my body to miss the coffee table. Imagine a fat girl flying sideways through the air, doing an awkward twisted double axel.  I missed the coffee table -- but landed HARD on my side. Every ounce, every pound of me slammed down on the hardwood floor....Oh My God I'm too fat.... I was pretty sure I broke my arm...maybe I had a concussion or a subdural hematoma...the wind was completely knocked out of my lungs...and I was instantly crying...



As I was going down, I heard Lillian exclaim, "Silly Grandma!"

When I didn't get up -- she came over to where I was laying on the floor and said, "Are you okay?"

Gulping air, I gasped, "I don't think so, honey. You need to get your Mommy."

She put her angelic little face really close to mine and in a quiet voice, said, "Grandma, the reason you came here today is because my Mommy is busy...REMEMBER?"

Oh. That's right. For just a minute, I forgot...maybe because of the blow to my head...

I went from crying to laughing...and after a few more minutes, I was able to get up. Luckily, nothing was broken.

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day!

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Today's ReRun comes from waaaay back in 2017. Wow.


Warren stays overnight at our house one night a week. His mom drops him off on Wednesday afternoon, and he spends the night and we have him all day Thursday.

After his bath, he puts on his favorite pajamas, and watches YouTube videos with Grandpa. (fun with Ferrets, or any kind of train video).

When Warren goes to bed, he wants Frankie to go, too. 

But as soon as Warren falls asleep, Frankie sneaks out of the room

Uncle Ross built a fort out of large cardboard boxes.

NOTHING could be more fun than that, eh?

On this day, we were having pancakes for supper.  Warren ALWAYS wants sprinkles on his pancakes now...

And I thought it would be fun to use some heart shaped cookie cutters.

A GREAT Valentine breakfast idea!  Warren wanted to take these home to Lilly.

Except that he ate most of them...

THIS WINTER SUCKS..!!

First -- there was all this snow....

Then came the Polar Vortex -- with way below freezing temps...

Then, three different ICE STORMS blew through here...

So, the conditions underfoot are treacherous, to say he least.

This was John -- BEFORE he fell on the ice!!

It's kind of a long story. And HE WILL BE FINE...here are the highlights:

John fell on the ice
Landed on his head
Ambulance to the hospital
Concussion
Overnight Stay
Home now
Wife exhausted

Everything is going to be fine...but we're having YET ANOTHER ICE STORM...and there are sidewalks to be shoveled, salt to be spread, follow-up doctor appointments to be made.  Hey -- it's a lot.  Something's gotta give.  A girl only has so much time in a day...so...

I'M TAKING A BLOGGING TIME-OUT.   Which means I'll be posting some re-runs...or, there might be a day here or there when I don't post anything....

But, writing this blog is a big part of my NORMAL LIFE...so, hopefully -- I'll be back to normal in a week or so...(obviously, you'll be the first to know!)

More Frankensewing

February is always THAT time of the year. The after-the-holiday doldrums have set in...winter is dragging on...and on...and on...

THANK goodness I have these two kiddos hanging about...to spice up my life and provide me with non-stop entertainment!!

Every Saturday, they are my REASON TO GO OUT TO EAT in a restaurant!! lol...

Lilly said you can't use the pockets in "girl jeans"...because they're only 1" deep.  HEY -- I CAN ADD POCKET EXTENDERS...

I like the idea of making each pocket DIFFERENT.

While I was at it -- I decided to add a little reverse applique

Warren's favorite train shirt was way too small.  So I cut off the sleeves and added them to the sides...new black sleeves, and black panels at the bottom to make it longer.

The reverse applique was a dog paw...the jeans were too tight,so I added a red stripe down each side.

The other leg said "the power of the paw"

Warren was delighted that his favorite train shirt fit him AGAIN...and, hey, he's turned into quite a PUZZLER...!!