MrsDoF's Dear Ones

For the past little while, I have been going through all the stuff in the study.  Twenty-three years living in this house, what has accumulated is overwhelming.
I keep stopping to get sentimental, especially about items from our sons’ childhoods.
They might not be all that interested in keeping mementos (I looked it up, there is no need for an ‘e’ before the ‘s’ ) but as a mom, I feel duty-bound to hold history in a box.

Something turned up the other day, having fallen between the couch and the cedar chest.  There were cat hairs and mold and a muddy color of something not recognizable on the whiteness of the fabric.
I pre-treated, washed, soaked, then washed again.  Some stains are meant to stay.

This is a sweatshirt with a picture of The Simpsons, in a size to be worn by an 8 year old child.
The picture copyright says 1990.
Homer is saying “Remember, as far as anyone knows, we’re a nice, normal family”.  We thought it was a great shirt because we love the cartoon, and because we live in the Town of Normal.

I sent an e-mail to Lucas (because I seem to remember him being the one who wore this shirt the most) but he says there is no need to keep it.
Now, at least, I have a picture.

Then I came across a box of papers.  Chris says there is no reason to save a Thank You note from 1990, even if the person is no longer living.  Her handwriting can cause my heart to skip a beat, tho.

About halfway down, this picture surfaced.

The green border is a pickle.  The picture is a bear in the woods, and a kid with a pickle in his pocket.  See the green speck?

The paper pickle is the illustration for the story below.

I believe oldest son, Joe was in 4th, maybe 5th? grade when he wrote it.
I made a photocopy and sent it to his Grandad, who took it to his Book Study group.
There, the praise for the story was unanimous.
It agreed with the teacher’s note in the border, which says “I like your story, Joey!”

Reproduced with exact spelling, and punctuation.

How a Pickle Saved My Life on a Camping Trip
It was a morning on an Augest day.  I was the first one up.  I decided I needed a fire.  So I went off for firewood.  I brought a couple pickles in case I got hungry.
I found a pile of sticks.  But when I bent over I hear a growling.  It wasn’t my stomach.  It was a bear!  I ran very, very fast!(Wouldn’t you?)  I tripped on a log.  Soon the bear cornered me!  I thought this was the end!  Then a pickle fell out of my pocket.  I had an idea!  I threw the pickle at the bear’s mouth.
It was a dill pickle.  He went off for water.  After a while I heard mom.  I yelled!  She found me.  She brought me back in a sling.
In a few days I was on crouches.  Ill never forget this!
The End (this is not true)
Joey Wiman

If I keep finding little gems like this, nothing will be moved out to make room for the exercise equipment.  My husband just wants it all gone, time to move on and reclaim the space.
Sigh.  I’ll see what I can do.
~~love and Huggs, Diane

Guitar chords of the theme song from the TV show Hogan’s Heroes were wafting down the hallway.
I asked the son why he was playing them.
His answer “Homework”.

A few minutes later as he entered the kitchen, I mentioned that I’m feeling kinda OLD right now, because that show was my favorite when I was a little girl.

My husband spoke up from his seat at the nook table.

“Honey, he’s expected to study ancient history in college”.

~~love and Huggs, Diane

I found this and many others at Go Comics dot com toon in daily.
I’m not going to link it because we’ve been having some really weird spam coming in, getting past the filters and ruining my good sentiments.

This is so true to my life this week.
Talk about ho-hum at the end of summer.

There was a bit of excitement on the back porch earlier today.
I was just stepping out of the shower, drying off, then getting dressed, but could hear two cats and much howling and many thumps and bumps against the wood on the other side of the wall.  By the time I tied my shoelaces, all had settled down.

When I got to the kitchen and looked out the window, girl cat was on the chair, and boy cat was on the bench under the window.  Both snoozing without a care in the world.

I went on about the morning, changing laundry one machine to the other, starting a cd, reading the Internet.

Awhile later, I heard the mail carrier’s truck going down the Court.  I waited until he got ‘round to ours (the dropbox is in the garage), then wandered out to bring in the mail.

As soon as I opened the door, the smell of blood hit me.
And right by the frame was the guts of some small creature, with a little tuft of gray fur beside it.
That’s all I could see, but opened the screen door very carefully.
Mahalia opened one eye, giving me a wary stare.
Oscar did not even twitch.

I stepped over the mess on the mat, allowed the door to close, and assessed other damage.
Blood spattered on the door and wall beside it.  More tufts of what I’d say is rabbit fur.
Drips of blood in a path to the middle of the steps.
No other pieces or parts in sight.

Poor, pitiful little beast.  Two huge hunters fighting over its still warm and bleeding body.
And there they rested, as if nothing had happened.

I turned on the hose and got the porch broom and cleaned up.  The sound of the waterspray woke up Oscar, but he didn’t get down from his perch, and seems to understand that I won’t torture him.
Hally hopped down and went sniffing at a blood splotch I had missed, so I had to turn the nozzle that direction.  She scooted away real fast, and hissed at me.

HISSED at me!

I hope that bunnyrabbit is giving her indigestion.

So yeah, other than the cats, it’s been real quiet here.
May you all be content as well.
~~love and Huggs, Diane

Neato pictures are further down!

Trying desperately to come up with something to say lately.

No, really, life is fairly routine right now.

Last week, middle son, Lucas had a meeting with his Academic Advisor at the U of I/Urbana, and looks like he is on track to have his Bachelor’s in Mathematics in December, along with several courses towards a Master’s.
He will be cutting back his work hours at both jobs to accommodate carrying 12 college credit hours.
New roomies from foreign countries will be sharing the student house, he got a new front wheel and tire for his bicycle, and his boy cat had the operation (seems a shame, no babies, for Scratchy is smart and beautiful).

Over the weekend, Husband and I cleared away junk from behind the couch.  Three trash bags to the curb, one box given away, and the rest rearranged for better access.  Actually, it looks like nothing was done at all, which means there is way too much stuff for sentimental reasons.
To think that 23 years ago, when we moved here from a 4 room apartment, the house felt big and airy.

Sunday afternoon, we went to a 50th anniversary party.  The couple can be considered our friends for more than 20 years, even though we’ve only been married half as long as they have.
Their house is beautiful.  And enormous.  The story of being built from lumber recycled from an old barn is quite a tale unto itself.
That was the best meat (grill-roasted pork) I’ve had in a long, long time.  I passed right over the cake and had a second sandwich for dessert.

I could talk about this being the third Monday in August, which is the beginning of classes at ISU.  My husband, as staff support, and youngest son, Chris as student, are much more involved with adventure than I am.
The only trouble I had is navigation on University Street riding my bicycle on the way home from breakfast.  Pedestrians would help if they walked in a straight line.

Golly, this looks like a simple event planner.
I guess I’m not in a real ‘sit up and take notice’ nor a very nostalgic kind of mood.
I’ll be getting to work on the latest crochet project just as soon as I hang the next load of laundry out on the clothesline.
~~love and Huggs, Diane

The camera chip needed some clearing off, so I’ll give you a little something worth your time.

the chairman of the (church) board

man against the sky

Lois with chop saw

dorm in waiting

a soybean field in central Illinois across the road from the barn house