tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-831405071483485132023-03-21T04:55:09.253-07:00Dolores RoseA Journey of Hope, Courage & Strengthdeeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.comBlogger194125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-76564514320067027382015-11-20T22:45:00.001-08:002015-11-20T22:45:34.339-08:00Dolores Rose: Family Tradition<a href="http://forgetfuld.blogspot.com/2015/11/family-tradition.html?spref=bl">Dolores Rose: Family Tradition</a>: I'm so proud of "The Family Tradition Band." That wasn't the name they started out with. The original name was "A Da...
deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-70895175505626093842015-11-20T22:40:00.001-08:002015-11-20T22:40:07.330-08:00Family Tradition<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"></span><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm so proud of "The Family Tradition Band." That wasn't the name they started out with. The original name was "A Dad & His Lads.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Ron started our sons out at an early age playing instruments and singing. Our oldest son Ron had just started to play the saxophone, Brian was a natural, playing the drums. Doug played the tambourine and Jeff played "Mattel" guitar! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">They played at church functions, schools, picnics, & graduations. Everyone loved them and the fact that it was a dad and his sons, Ron did the lead guitar and sang, while the boys played their instruments. I bought the boys matching vests so they would look the same, and Ron always wore a white shirt.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A family tradition began with a father sharing his love of music with his sons, and they in turn loving it as much as him. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">All through their younger years, teenage years, adult into the present day, they continue to sing and play instruments. Of course Jeff no longer plays Mattel guitar, he plays a real one, Ron J left the sax for guitar, Brian is still playing the drums, and Doug sang for while with them. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">They had jam sessions down in the basement, out on the patio, during the holidays, doing fund- raisers, playing at birthday parties, and it still goes on - as each year they sound better and better.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">They expanded their Family Tradition Band </span><span style="font-size: large;">with April, who has a fantastic voice and Bob on rhythm guitar. They could of truly been the next American Idol winners if they had tried out. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">They play out for birthday parties or anniversaries. And of course the event of the year is "The Barn Party"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Our 3rd son, Doug, dropped out of the band many years ago, but his dad and brothers keep trying to bring him back into the fold - some day I hope it happens to make it truly complete.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> What do I do? I critique the music, but mostly sit back and enjoy listening, and marvel at how far they have come.</span>deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-45777555028624182892015-09-19T08:10:00.000-07:002015-09-19T08:10:02.813-07:00So - interested in your opinion please<span style="font-size: large;">Through the years I always looked forward to reading the daily paper. I started out by reading the comics as a child. I looked forward to reading Nancy, Archie, etc. During those years my dad sent me to the Paper Store to buy it. Later on delivery service brought it to our door, and still does today, except mostly it can be found in the yard or driveway, hardly ever in the box that it is suppose to be put in.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Yes, we still have the paper delivered, and I still read the comics along with the news, and whatever seems interesting to me. It has always has been a tradition to read the paper after dinner and Sunday afternoons. I do enjoy the Sunday Paper and still look forward to both the Valley and Press.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Today, well lets say I just take the daily paper for granted, why? Because in todays world, the news is right at my fingertips with all of the technology. Heck, I can even get store's coupons off of my phone! There's the internet, smart phone, tablet, and t.v. - But-yes - I do still look forward to the editorials, letters from the people, and of course the comics and ads.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Ron does not read the paper except for articles I save for him, so it is just me and I don't know if it is worth the price of the daily newspaper only for me - so I'm asking you - what do you think?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Let me take this one step further, Ron & I both have smart phones and the landline. I want to get rid of the landline and he does not - what have you done?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I hope I get some opinions on this as I am really wanting to know.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> This is truly the last week of summer, as fall starts this coming week. Time for pumpkins, trees turning their leaves into beautiful display of color. I cannot believe how fast the seasons go, especially when the rains came and continued for awhile.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> ~~~~~ Not too many September morns left to enjoy the flowers, the gardens, the sounds of summer, so stop what your doing, go outside and look, really look around, take a deep breath and say a thank you to our Lord for being able to do this, Then say a prayer for the refuge families that are risking all so they can let their children have a free life by taking them out of the ravaged war area. Memories are soothing to the soul</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-40697514257979191272015-08-06T07:34:00.001-07:002015-08-06T07:34:05.949-07:00Dolores Rose on Clark's Summit
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grew up in a small booming steel mill town
in the fifties and sixties. Beside the Foundry and Copperweld, there was the”
Glass House” and that is how my hometown got its name – “Glassport.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I grew up a city
girl, I lived with my parents and younger brother in an alley behind the main
street. At night, in bed, I could hear the streetcars, trucks, and cars going
through town. I also heard the trains rumbling on the tracks, and sometimes,
during the night, the whistle blew. The trains had a caboose back in the day, a
man sat in the caboose, and he would wave to us when we waved. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I fell asleep to those sounds every night. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I turned seven
years old, I got my first puppy dog, Skippy. He was all white and such a good
little dog. He use to follow me to school and the nuns would make me send him
back home, if I didn’t, he would have waited for me all day. I had him for a
while, he was my best friend. I looked forward to going home after school, because
I knew he would be there waiting for me to play with him. One day I came home
and he didn’t come to greet me. My parents were sitting at the kitchen table
waiting for me, they told me they had to give my dog, Skippy away because he
had the mange. I was heartbroken, I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye, or
hug him one more time. The grief is still inside of me and I still remember him
wagging his tail when he saw me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hemlock Alley was a
great place to live. It was filled with kids playing dodge ball, riding bikes,
playing tag, mumbly peg, or the guys stood at the corner of the alley talking
or “watching the girls go by”. We girls hung out at the local drugstore, having
vanilla or cherry cokes, sitting in booths talking about boys, their D. A.
haircuts, dances, skating, hair, and clothes. In the summertime – Glassport
Swimming Pool was “thee” place. Every day, usually 6 days a week I could be
found there along with mostly all the other kids that lived in town. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On Sundays all the
stores were closed, it was truly a day of rest. We would go to church and
either family & grandma would come for dinner at our home, or we would go
to my grandmothers for dinner. It was either homemade gnocchi, ravioli, pasta,
Braciola, with homemade bread. I didn’t care what it was because it was all
delicious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t have a sit
down breakfast on Saturday or Sundays. Saturday we were on our own, and Sunday
was always an early Italian dinner, usually around one o’clock.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an innocent
time. Moms didn’t have to work outside the home, they made homemade meals and
baked cookies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember my mom making
homemade Eggnog. It was so delicious, made with one raw egg, milk, vanilla, and
sugar, beaten with hand beaters until foamy. And - my mom made the best “eggs
& toast” when I was sick. It was a 3 minute egg mixed with toast that was
torn up in a bowl. Her Pastina soup would make any one better!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I was a young mom and my boys got sick,
I made the same things for them, and they liked it as much as I did.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our teenage “bad
things” consisted of smoking, and the guys also liked to drink beer. We had our
own “Fonz.” He use to ride on his motorcycle up to the high school every day at
noon. The guys would gather around him and the girls would admire him from
afar.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most of us after
high school didn’t go to college. I went to Franco’s Beauty School in
Pittsburgh, graduated, and worked as a hairdresser at Yolanda’s Beauty Shop.
Guys who didn’t go to college went to trade school or went to work in the steel
mills. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I married at the age of 20 and had my first
born at 21, and 3 more followed. My 20ty’s were “having baby” years. I had four
boys between 1964 and 1971, with the two oldest being Irish Twins!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The time has gone so fast, I cannot believe I am now in my
twilight years. It does not seem possible, truly, it doesn’t.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not
complaining, believe me when I say I am thankful I have made it this far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God willing and the creek don’t rise (as my
dad would say), He will let me live to see my oldest granddaughter graduate
from high school.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">They call us “survivors.” They say that the day you are
diagnosed, you are a survivor. I will just say that I have had cancer 3 times.
The first time was in 2006, the second time in 2013 and was called a recurrence
– of Triple Negative Breast Cancer, the fourth time in 2014, was called
metastasized – stage 4, because it went to my right lung. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My oncologist says I am stable, not NED (no evidence of
disease), but stable because I still have some spots on my right lung. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am taking oral chemo pills to hopefully keep
me stable or better yet NED. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The pills I take one week on, and one week off. The week on
I am fatigued and in pain, but I push on because it is better than sitting at
home twiddling my thumbs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Working 3 days
a week keeps me sane, and I am around people. I would not see or talk to a sole
if I stayed at home. No one is around, the phone does not ring, (sometimes I
wonder if people think I’m contagious) so I am very thankful for my work at the
library.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I get so involved that I forget about unpleasantness, until
it is time for me to get up to get a drink, or go to the rest room – (I am
unsteady on my feet and walk as if I have had a little too much to drink.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">God has been so very good to me. I pray to Him and St. Jude
every day. St. Jude is the saint of the hopeless or impossible. I have other
saints I pray to also but not every day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m thankful for the
little things. You know how people try to make out dogs, dragons or cars from
the clouds? I look for and make out angels. I have not only seen them in the
clouds, but a lot of them here on earth.</span></div>
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<a border="0" href="http://www.shabbyblogsblog.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"></a>deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-8064093885518261582015-05-10T20:31:00.002-07:002015-05-11T07:37:05.430-07:00Mother's Day, my 50th! My family and I just celebrated a wonderful Mother's Day, the weather even cooperated!<br />
I can't believe that this is my 50th year as a mother.<br />
I can still visualize the nurse placing this little bundle into my arms, and seeing his bright little blue eyes looking into mine, my heart melted. I felt this deep love along with apprehension, realizing that I was responsible for this precious life. We named him Ronald John, Ronald after my husband, John after my dad. Nick name was Ron Jon.<br />
Ron and I were in awe of our son, if he so much as made a sound we would both jump up, (I'm sure all of you who may be reading this and are parents know what I mean.) It ended up we jumped up a lot because he was colicky, he cried constantly, day and night. Poor little thing couldn't adjust to the formula until the doctor told us to put him on Carnation Milk diluted. That did the trick. Finally we could enjoy him the way we should.<br />
He was a happy little baby always smiling and he was smart too. Not only that, but he walked at 9 months! That's just about the time I gave birth to our second son, yes - Irish twins they call it. Ron and Brian are the same age for close to two weeks!<br />
When I was pregnant with Brian, I didn't know how I would be able to love him, I had so much love for our first, that I didn't think it was possible to have love for two. I remember asking my mother-in-law -" how am I going to love this baby?" She said, "it comes naturally, you'll see." Of course she was right, I fell in love all over again when my 2nd little 9-1/2 lb., baby boy was born. Where our first weighed 7-1/2 lb. and was blond and blue eyed, this little guy was chubby and had lots of dark hair. So different, like night and day. He was not colicky and slept through the night almost immediately.<br />
Life settled into a happy routine for me. I became I stay at home mom and enjoyed every minute of it. I was a twin of Betty Crocker, I made homemade bread, pies, cakes, but mostly I enjoyed and learned how to become a mom, and loved every minute of it. I read to them, played with them and watched them play with each other. It really was almost like having twins. They made me laugh with their antics and worry when they ran a fever.<br />
Four years after Brian was born, I gave birth to another little boy, Douglas. I had gall -bladder attacks carrying Doug, and had to be hospitalized. They put me in a private room away from all the mom's that just gave birth. I could here the other mom's talking, and one had a music box that played Toyland. I loved that song so much and was so happy every time it was played. I told Ron I wanted that for a gift when I gave birth, but I didn't get it until years later, many years later, but it still means so much to me. Doug was born in 1969, the same year that the man walked on the moon! He was a delightful baby and so good. Ron Jon & Brian were always wanting to hold him and play with him. Two years after that I gave birth to our 4th little boy, Jeffrey David. He, too was such a good baby. I was blessed.<br />
I had complicated pregnancy with Jeff, I started to hemorrhage and had to spend time in the hospital again. While the doctor was examining me, he asked me what I thought was a strange question. He asked if I really wanted to have this baby! I was shocked that he asked me such a thing, I said yes, of course I want my baby. So he prescribed these pills that I had to take for the rest of my pregnancy. (years later I found out that the pills I took could cause thyroid cancer in girls that were born during that time and the mothers had to take the pill.) Then they told me that I had to stay on bed rest until he was born. Let me tell you, that was tough trying to stay on bed rest. We had just moved into our brand new home we had built, a two story and I was not allowed to climb steps!. My husband had to work, and I had to take care of my other 3 little ones. I was frightened that I was not going to be able to carry to full term. It was a scary time for me. I did carry Jeff though and he was born on time, the only thing is that I hemorrhaged afterwards also, which really scared me. To this day I hate the sight of blood.<br />
Not only all of that, but they induced me twice with Jeff. And then, I developed post partum depression, Gowd was I a mess! At that time, people were ashamed to admit that they suffered from it. It was kept hush, hush. people were not aware of what caused it and looked at you strangely. I never told my mom because I was ashamed, but thank God for my mother-in-law. She came down everyday to take care of the kids, because I was in no shape to do so. It lasted from August until November, Thanksgiving to be exact. Depression is disabling, but I never wanted to hurt my baby like some women have done. Today post-partum depression is accepted, understood, and treated, thank goodness.<br />
After that ordeal was over, I was finally able to be a real mom. There is nothing better than being mom to my sons. I would not trade them for anything. I was the first female in their lives and remained number one until each of them started kindergarten. Each of them fell in love with their teacher! Yes, I was heartbroken, now they wanted to share their cookies with their teacher instead of me, but hey, I still had them when they came home.<br />
It seemed like I just celebrated my 50th birthday, but - no - it is my oldest son who is 50. He is still lovable, and happy. His brothers all look up to him and each other. Sure there have been squabbles here and there, but when it comes right down to it, there is love.<br />
I truly think I was born to be a Mother and to this day enjoy it and treasure my sons.<br />
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deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-69086833538678237822015-05-07T08:28:00.000-07:002015-05-20T10:07:04.506-07:00Smells<br />
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<strong>SMELLS</strong></div>
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Funny title for a blog eh? But just like there is - "What's in a Name? -" there is "What's in a Smell?"<br />
It's not the best spring day, its not the worst spring day, but a day that I can open my window. As I do, I am immediately taken back home to Glassport, my hometown.<br />
The smell as I opened the window was that of the foundry, where my dad worked, I can see the black lunch bucket he carried back and forth to work everyday. He usually walked the many blocks it took to get to work, sometimes he got a ride with a friend, but not often.<br />
Not a bad smell at all, but, oh, the memories that came flooding back in my mind! I visualized so many things all at once, it doesn't seem possible that so many visions went through my head at the same time, but they did.<br />
I see my mom in the kitchen kneading dough to make homemade buns, the decorative glass bowl sits out, the one my mom made the salad in everyday for dinner, that bowl is in my china closet now, along with the red and white bowl my mom used in making her delicious biscuits. I treasure them. (I wonder if, when I am gone my sons will remember - I should write notes to put in them so they know how special they are to me, along with my baby dish when I was a baby.)<br />
I see the produce store with Mr. Orlando sweeping out front with his hat on, and Mattie walking down the main street, smiling and waving at everyone, such a sweet guy. There's Mrs. Darling from Darling's Market, and her husband and son, Saul. The dentist, Dr.Raden, Dr. Cibric, who made house calls, Dr, Finemen, the eye doctor. I can hear the sound of the streetcar doors opening so we could get on or off at the Paper Store. The fountain water changing colors at night. Islay's, where we got the most delicious ice cream cones, and mouth watering chipped ham.<br />
I can still hear the 4 o'clock whistle signaling the end of the day shift at the foundry, and us kids knowing that it was time to head home for "supper." We didn't have frozen food back in the day, everything was made fresh (without antibiotics in the meat.)<br />
My mom always had a bowl of fruit for dessert on weekdays, on weekends there were pies, and cakes. I can't really remember mom making cookies except at Christmas time. I can see the clothes hanging out to dry, towels and all, there were no dryers back then.<br />
Yes, there is a lot in a smell, at least for me, and this I smelled when I opened the window this morning.<br />
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<br />deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-30792931785253215652015-03-02T19:49:00.001-08:002015-03-05T02:30:06.332-08:00Living With Cancer<div style="border-image: none;">
<strong> Tomorrow</strong>, Tuesday, March 3 is Triple Negative Breast Cancer Day - This cancer is not the kind you want to have if you have to have cancer at all. The only drug that attacks it is chemo.</div>
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<strong>There</strong> are so many different kinds of chemo that are used, it depends on the type of breast cancer you have. People receive more than one drug at a time usually, along with steroids, anti-nausea meds and who knows what else that they are pumping into your veins. </div>
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<strong> It usually</strong> takes about four hours, during that time I would talk with Ron, we would talk to others in the room, or look through cancer magazines. There were sometimes that I would take a nap and Ron would go exploring the floor.If my appointment was in the mid-morning, we would still be there when they served a light lunch. I sat in a recliner, but Ron had to sit in a regular chair. The nurses were very kind, and if they were not too busy they would make us laugh. At one treatment Ron and the nurses sang doo wop songs, they had the whole room involved. It was a nice session. Some people had their treatments in private rooms while they were in bed. When a person was finished with Chemo the nurses would make a big deal out of it and gave out a diploma to show that they got through the treatments.</div>
<strong> The type</strong> of cancer I had/have is the same kind of cancer that Robin Roberts had, Triple Negative Breast Cancer. I was diagnosed in October, the 17 of 2006. After many tests, scans, x-rays, MRI's - I had a lumpectomy on Nov. 27, 2006. I really wanted a mastectomy, but my doctor told me that I didn't need one. They told me it was a very early cancer, with no lymph node involvement. I was Stage 1, grade 2. I remember so vividly the one doctor telling me that this was just a bump in the road and I could go on and live my life after my treatments and radiation. I believed him.<br />
<strong> I had</strong> to have 5 very strong treatments of chemo followed by 33 rounds of radiation. I had a very scary side affect after my first chemo treatment. My white blood cells crashed, it actually went down to zero, which is bad. This happened three days after the treatment. I was running a fever and called the doctor who told me to go to the emergency room. At the hospital I was put into a private room and everyone had to put on a mask and gloves before coming into the room. I didn't have an immune system to combat any germs that might be floating around. Thank goodness for Neulasta, it somehow works in bringing the white blood count back up. After that we had to drive to AGH the next day after treatments so I could get the Neulasta shot. There were no problems with my count after that. I am not sure if that is the correct spelling of the word.<br />
<strong> I was</strong> relatively healthy at the time I was diagnosed, so I was able to work during treatment plus continue to exercise. Pretty much my life went back to normal after it all was done, except I had to have a pacemaker put in for Atrial Fib that I developed caused from the radiation treatments.<br />
<strong> Two</strong> years after I had to have a radical hysterectomy. I came home with a catheter that I had for a week. Not very pleasant and I could not wait to get it out. Otherwise everything went well with the operation and no cancer was found,<br />
<strong> I have</strong> not felt carefree or normal since having cancer, I have been robbed of those wonderful days of waking up feeling normal and carefree. Sure, there are days when I don't think about it as much, but not a day goes by that I don't. All I have to do is look in the mirror if nothing else.<br />
<strong>5-1/2</strong> years later my doctors told me I was on my way out. They considered me in permanent remission and they didn't want to see me for a year - a whole year! I was thrilled, I actually believed them. Finally I could start making plans for the future, my doctors told me I had it licked. That was in December, 2012. I felt the lump in January of 2013 (same breast-recurrence) and on Feb.27, 2013 I had a mastectomy. Recuperating this time was hell for me. I had drains, pains, and too much time by myself except for visiting nurses. After I healed from all of the above, I had to go through 6 rounds of Chemo, this time with side effects, I had abnormal bleeding, I was extremely fatigued and had a hard time moving around. Treatment lasted from March until August 2013. It was nothing like the first time. I actually had to take a leave of absence from work because of fatigue and off and on pain. I was really weepy this time, I don't know if it was from losing a breast or the fact that the cancer came back. As I started to heal mentally and physically, I started to think," now I will be ok - it's gone, no lymph node involvement, clear margins, they got it all out, and I made it through all the treatments - I'll be okay now." WRONG - <br />
<strong>I was</strong> having a CT scan for another issue when the doctor told me that the CT scan showed the spot on my lung had gotten a little bigger from the last time I had a CT scan. I didn't even know I had a spot, no one ever mentioned it to me. So to make a long story short, that is how I found out by accident that the breast cancer went to my lung. Even though it was devastating to find out, I was fortunate that the CT scan for another problem showed that spot was larger. <br />
<strong> There</strong> it started all over again, I had to go to a pulmonary doctor and surgeon, I had to have a biopsy of the lung. The biopsy came back negative, even though the pet scan showed differently. I have to say I truly did not think it was cancer because of my so called gut feeling and the results of the biopsy. But my pulmonary doc explained it to me this way. "a pepper can look so perfect from the outside, all red and shiny, but when you cut the pepper open, you see that it is rotten by the core."<br />
So this past August of 2014, I had a cancerous triple negative breast cancer nodule removed from my lung. I have seventy percent lung capacity and still have 3 spots on my lung at this time, but am now taking oral Chemo to hopefully shrink the spots and keep the cancer at bay. <br />
<strong>The last</strong> CT scan showed activity in the frontal part of my skull, so I had to have another test to see if it was cancer. I was really beside myself, even though my doctor said that radiation would take care of it, I didn't want it to be cancer. I had that test this past Thursday and found out today, Monday that it is not cancer. God is so good to me and I am so very thankful. I am also thankful for all who pray for me. It is such a comfort.<br />
<strong>I'm living</strong> a new normal now. Cancer has taken its toll on me. I have chemo brain, *(yep it really exist) I have a hard time with my balance, and I walk like I'm drunk. Plus the fatigue, joint and back pain stop me from doing the things that were so normal to me before. Like going to a bookstore and browsing through everything at my leisure, going shopping - I really miss shopping, both grocery and department store. I am thankful that I can still go to work at a place I love and enjoy, I am still able to attend the grand kids activities and do what Ron loves most, go out to eat.<br />
<strong>Ron does</strong> the cooking now, lets face it - he does mostly everything. He is so good to me, he never complains, but yet listens to me complain- which I do a lot, trust me. I get upset because I can't walk right - climb steps as if they were mountains, if I want to work in the kitchen I have to sit on a chair, and the HERNIA. <br />
<strong>BUT-</strong> I am so thankful for what I do have, for my family, my life - yes my life - I am still here and try to make the most of the day I have been blessed with.<br />
<strong> I am blessed in so many ways that I have no right to complain at all.</strong> <br />
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This has not been double checked for mistakes, so there are probably many - just ignore or correct what ever you feel like doing - deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-22447132744917312252014-12-14T09:08:00.000-08:002014-12-14T09:08:13.203-08:00Chrostmas Without Santa<a border="0" href="http://www.shabbyblogsblog.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://i711.photobucket.com/albums/ww111/ShabbyBlogs/ShabbyBlogsButton2-2.jpg" /></a><br />
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<span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2264" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2266" style="font-family: Calibri;">Christmas without Santa</span></span></div>
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<span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2260" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2262" style="font-family: Calibri;">Growing up in the fifties was great. Our mothers did not work and that gave them time to make delicious meals and deserts for their families. We didn’t know how blessed we were to have that.<span> </span>In today’s world it is far and in between that Mom is able to stay home to take care of their kids. Today some parents work from home and can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak,</span></span></div>
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<span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2256" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2258" style="font-family: Calibri;">Christmas was an exciting time for me as a child. I could not wait till Santa came to our house. I was a firm believer and no other kid could tell me different.<span> </span>After all, I left cookies and milk out for Santa to eat, and carrots for the reindeer, the next morning when I came downstairs there were just crumbs, the milk was gone along with the carrots. That’s how I knew Santa was real.</span></span></div>
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<span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2242" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2241" style="font-family: Calibri;">One Christmas Eve after I was already in bed, company came to visit my parents, and they woke me up with their laughter. I came down the steps stopping at the bottom landing and asked my Mom if Santa had come yet. She said no, but I asked if I could look. She reluctantly said ok, so I walked through the kitchen feeling shy because the company was sitting all around the kitchen table and I felt everyone was looking at me, though no one said a word. I walked into the living room and saw all of the presents. I said Mommy, he did come, he did!<span> </span>I asked if I could open up my presents and was told just one, so I sat on the floor and grabbed a present. Looking down to open it, I saw my name written in my Mom’s handwriting. I looked up at her and said “Mom, you wrote this, this is your handwriting.” <span> </span>My heart broke when I said “You’re Santa” and she said yes. </span></span></div>
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<span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2246" style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;"><span id="yiv9860085900yui_3_16_0_1_1417630876461_2245" style="font-family: Calibri;">But at least one thing stayed true – celebrating Jesus’s birthday. As I got older one of the most favorite parts of Christmas, was going to Midnight Mass. Listening to the beautiful Christmas hymns being sung by the choir, seeing the little baby Jesus in His manger and singing with the choir to Silent Night. Afterward my friends would come to my house for a while and we would exchange gifts between us.</span></span></div>
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deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-19151399609994488542014-11-23T20:18:00.003-08:002015-05-20T10:12:25.312-07:00SOMETIMES<div style="border-image: none;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes it is easy to forget the reality of life. Sometimes no matter how much we want to forget we can't. When I am with my family or around friends, I find it easy - I find it easy to forget that there is a box of Chemo pills on my dining room table waiting to be opened. Yesterday and today was easy. Yesterday was filled with my grand kids basketball games, and lunch with dear friends we had not seen for awhile, it was a fun filled day. So it was easy to forget about the box.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"> Today, Sunday has also been a fun day. After church and eating a delicious breakfast at Zatolla's, we picked up two of our grand kids to stay with us for a couple of hours while their parents were busy, driving them back to our place we made a stop at Starbucks where they each ordered large Double Chocolate Frappuccino's. They were so happy and could not stop thanking us. For those of you who have grand kids, doesn't it make you feel really good inside to know you made them happy? Starbucks has captured all ages it seems, except for my husband who is not crazy about it, but I myself love the Peppermint Mocha during the holiday seasons. </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> Any how we continued home where they helped their Pappy rake up and bag leaves. After that we had potato chips and they drank the rest of their Starbucks while we watched The Christmas Story. We never get tired of that movie - Anna sat beside me and Elizabeth was all curled up in her Pappy's recliner with a blanket, her chips and drink - it was a really lovely way to spend the afternoon.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Today our oldest granddaughter turned 14, she was born on Thanksgiving day and that is when we celebrate her birthday. When we took the two girls home, we were invited in for dinner and to sing and share delicious ice cream cake with our birthday girl. A great way to end the weekend.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> But - when we got back home and I walked into the dining room, seeing the box brought me back to reality. Facing reality is hard!! It is hard for a lot of people in different ways. This box is my reality. Like I said, reality for me is difficult to face, but I can't run from it. That is why I am so thankful that I am able to forget about it for hours. And that's what I was able to do this weekend.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I have decided not to start taking the chemo pills until the day after Thanksgiving in case they make me sick - I sure do not want to ruin Thanksgiving, So I am going to have to look at this box every day, maybe I will even get up enough of nerve to open it instead of waiting until the last minute. We'll see - </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> But in the meantime I wanted to wish all of you a Blessed and Happy Thanksgiving surrounded with loving family, & friends or just each other. I am very thankful for all of you - for your prayers and caring. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> It will be strange this year with our youngest not being with us as he is on duty from 7 to 11- but one of us will get a plate of Thanksgiving food to him. I pray that God keeps him out of harms way and his guarding angel watches over him and all of the other men and women that serve and protect us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">God bless you Dee</span>deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-79564030858665625242014-10-30T15:36:00.000-07:002014-10-30T15:36:43.257-07:00Lemonade - redone<div class="_4-u3 _5cla" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; border-top-left-radius: 3px; border-top-right-radius: 3px; border-top-style: none; color: #141823; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font: 11.81px/13.96px "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; letter-spacing: normal; padding: 16px; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;">
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When was the last time you bought a glass of lemonade? How about from children selling it by the cups on the corner?<br />
With a little table, a pitcher of ice cold lemonade, cups, and a little box to hold the change ,the children holding up signs saying lemonade - 25 cents.<br />
They were all excited, jumping up and down, trying to get the attention of the people driving in their cars. Some had short hair, some braided, or long and curly or just straight. Glasses or not, these little girls were trying to grab our attention, and they sure grabbed mine with their impish smiles.<br />
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As I pulled over they all tripped over each others feet trying to get to me. Did I want a glass of lemonade? Did I just want one glass? Looking around to the back of my jeep confirmed what I knew, no one else was in my Jeep but me.<br />
These little girls must of thought I was really thirsty! I just bought one glass of lemonade, it was so cold and refreshing.<br />
<br />
Seeing the happiness and excitement on their faces made me think I should of bought two glasses even though I paid more then the asking price of a quarter, and that made them laugh and smile even more while saying thank yous.<br />
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This lazy hot day of summer and lemonade made me think of how fortuante these little girls were. They could stay at home instead of going to a day care center, or a babysitter, as is the norm these days, because it takes 2 paychecks to make it work for most families.<br />
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Those of us who grew up in the Fifties were fortunate to have our mom's at home, to be able to walk to the local pool, or ride our bikes to the end of town and back.<br />
After dinner we would take baths, get clean clothes on,and take long leisurely walks in the evening, We would walk down to the " Honor Role" where the water fountain changed colors.<br />
There we would meet other kids and sit around and talk kid stuff. Like, what time are we meeting at the pool, did you see so and so take that dive off the diving board? Her name was Phyllis and she did double twists off the high dive. Everyone was in awe, mostly the rest of us just held our nose and jumped off!<br />
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I think back on how all of us took that for granted, just like we took for granted the high tower Isaly's ice-cream cones that we were able to buy for ten cents. It was for sure living in the Happy Days or Mayberry, USA.<br />
<br />
From the time I was 4 I lived in a alley. When I looked out my bedroom window I saw the house next door, If I reached out the window far enough I could touch it with my hand. Growing up in an alley was fun. Our friends lived right next door or just a couple of doors down, So close we did not have to call them on the phone, but just holler their name from the porch.<br />
<br />
Dodge ball, Hopscotch, Hide n Seek, riding our bikes, playing Mumbly Peg,(I had my own pen-knife!) catching fire fly, playing cowboys and indians, were just some of the games that I played with the kids.<br />
<br />
We did not have air-conditioning in those days .When it was really hot and humid, my dad would sleep downstairs, and when he would, I would. Sometimes he would sleep on the recliner on the porch, I did not want to get bit by bugs , so I stayed in our living room and slept on the floor. Doors wide open, windows too and not a one was ever locked.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
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The back entrance to the fresh meat market "Darling's Market" was across the alley from our house.<br />
My mom would send me to the store and I entered through the back entrance where Mr. Darling and his son, Saul would be butchering the meat. Mr. Darling would always have a old stogie hanging out of his mouth, while Saul would have a cigarette hanging out of his. It always smelled of fresh blood but once you got into the main store it smelled good.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
<br />
My mom would send me to the store with her grocery list, and I always hoped I would have to buy from the meat counter, where a guy named Jim worked, he was a bit older then me, but that didn't stop me from falling madly in love with him. My heart would do flip flops when he would wait on me, even though I was about 13 or 14 and he was about 20 or 21. he left the store and entered the service.( Before he left we had a sweet goodbye kiss, He probably forgot it right after, but I remembered it .)<br />
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I thought nothing of eating fresh steaks & lamb chops a couple times a week. We had Orlando's a fresh produce store across the street from Darling's Market, where I also shopped for my mom. Then there was the chicken store, they had fresh killed chickens that they cleaned, and you could buy chicken hearts also.<br />
I loved how my mom made chicken hearts. She got her frying pan out and put some olive oil in it and after it was hot she would put in the chicken hearts and season them with salt and pepper - DELICIOUS! I can't find them anywhere except sometimes in a whole chicken. Of course it is an organ meat which is supposed to be bad for your cholesterol. But we ate Liver worst back then also and it was not suppose to be good for our health, it was delicious though.<br />
<br />
Back then the doctor made house calls, and our doctor was Dr. Cibrick, He came to our house much to often. My mother and I had Hepatitis together, I had pneumonia. My mom always got bronchitis from smoking. His back door opened into the alley, katty corner from our home, so he did not have to go far. When I married , we got a beautiful lace tablecloth as a gift from them that I have to this day. 47 years later, (now 51 as I once again critique this) I still have a lot of wedding gifts, the people are gone who gave them to us, but the gifts are remembrance of them.<br />
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Sunday's we would travel to Swissvale or Greensburg to visit my grandmothers. We would visit my aunts and uncles or else they would visit us. On my mom's side no matter who you were visiting or if you had them at your home, there would always be a game of ,"Check-Check" (poker} being played while polka's played on the radio and cousins running in and out of the house. They played after we all ate a good home made Italian dinner.<br />
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Holidays my dad and mom would make pizzals by hand on the stove,. my mom would make the dough, and my dad would take care of the iron, knowing just when to turn it. It was a long tedious job, but they made dozens and dozens of them. I think they enjoyed doing it together.To be able to taste one of theirs again would be heaven sent. Today of course, people make them with an electric iron and it goes so much faster.<br />
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My mother and her best friend Clara would get together and make the Italian Bow Knots, Nut and Apricot rolls, and other Italian Cookies. When my Grandmothers were still able to bake, the CHEGETS and other originals delicacies would be made. I am ashamed to say, except for very few traditional cookies, I do not carry on the traditions. I do make the Christmas Eve Italian Spaghetti and Erika, my one daughter-in-law now carries on that tradition.<br />
<br />
I was 8 years old when my brother Dominic was born, and from that day on till I married, I shared a bedroom with him. I did a lot of babysitting back then, I baby sat whenever I should of had a babysitter! He was such a cute little boy with his curly dark hair and impish smile, everyone loved him.<br />
<br />
Going to Catholic grade school meant that we had to go to 8 o'clock mass every morning. We had to sing and sing the songs in Latin. We did the Mass of the dead - Requem Eterna - the Mass was not only song but said in Latin at that time, and the priest always had his back towards us except when he said the gospel. We girls wore babushkas to Mass, at that time no girl or woman could go without a hat on or wear a babushka. If we were going to go to Communion, we had to fast all night up until we received Communion. we packed our breakfast and ate it in class after Mass. I don't think anyone at all fasts before taking Communion today, I know I don't but again I don't eat anything in the morning.<br />
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A couple of times in the winter when the snow was heavy, a few of us girlfriends would skip morning Mass and go down to the football field where we would goof around and make snow angels in the snow, then we would go back to church when we thought Mass was over, of course we always got in trouble with the nuns because either we were late or got back early and that told them we were not at Mass.<br />
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On Wednesday nights at seven o'clock, our class was to sing at Adoration Services. I always had to babysit my brother, because my dad had a firemen's meeting and my mom went to a poker game. If my mom won she always gave me a tip!. Well, anyhow the kids that I hung out with knew that I babysat on that night and they would all come to my house. My brother would be in bed and us kids would have such fun playing Spin the Bottle. I fell in love with Tom then, he was so cute and kissed good and long, (lol). It was all innocent, We were just young kids having fun. Who ever spun the bottle and who ever it landed on would go into our kitchen and up on the landing that went upstairs, that is where we would kiss, and when we were done, we went back in the living room where the game would start up again!<br />
They all had to leave at the time when Adoration services would be finished at church, so they could get home on time. We would write excuses for each other and give them to the nuns the next day.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
I was the only one with a true excuse, and my parents never found out what went on at our house on Wednesday nights from 6th grade till we graduated grade school in 8th grade!<br />
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Father O'Hara was our pastor, He baptized me, Gave me First Holy Communion, Confirmation and Married me.<br />
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My grade school years were fun and innocent, no day cares existed, neither did pre-school or kindergarten. Today is so different, most mothers have to work, kids are in day care, and doors are locked. Some children like the Lemonade girls are lucky to stay home but they are far and in between.<br />
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<br />deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-624634279510908602014-10-13T20:36:00.000-07:002014-10-15T17:47:02.742-07:00Memories on Clark's Summit<strong>
</strong><br />
<div align="center" style="background: white; margin: 12pt 0in; mso-line-height-alt: 12.8pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: grey; font-family: "Britannic Bold","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><strong><span style="font-size: small;">The Kitchen</span></strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="color: grey; font-family: "Britannic Bold","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><strong>Growing up I loved our kitchen. I especially loved our table. The
table was where everything happened. Pie dough was rolled, Christmas cookies
made, homemade bread and rolls made. When my Grandmother came to stay she would
make homemade Gnocchi’s or Ravioli’s. Mom would make her Stuff Cabbage; I
played with my doll house, did my homework, sat and read my book. Dad
would read the paper while having his after dinner coffee. I can still picture
it in my mind just like it was yesterday. There was one window in the kitchen, under the window was a roll cart to hold the toaster, deep fryer, mixer and blender. In the summer my dad would put a double fan in it, one side took the hot air out while the other brought the cold air in. I don't think that fan did anything it was suppose to as I never felt cold air at all! The porcelain sink was on the left of the window. The sink had a homemade skirt around it to hide the plumbing, and a place to keep the dish soap and cleansers. The one thing I don’t remember
is what kind of flooring we had.</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="color: grey; font-family: "Britannic Bold","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kitchen was the largest
room in our house. Back in the day we did not have beautiful wood kitchen
cabinets, we had one large built in cupboard that was over on the far left wall
of the kitchen. White wood framed glass panels. I remember that glass always
sparkling. Mom lined the shelves with shelf paper that folded over to look like
a little awning hanging. The paper was changed for holidays,
and spring cleaning. When that time came around, everything had to be removed,
along with what was now considered the old shelf paper. Mom would wash the
inside and after it dried she would line the shelves with the new paper,
putting everything back in. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an
all day job.</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="color: grey; font-family: "Britannic Bold","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><strong>Besides the dishes, cups, glasses, etc. kept inside, there on the
bottom shelf, on the right hand side, sat a round small white glass bowl filled with pennies, dimes, quarters, and nickels. Pennies' were just as important as the other coins back then. I never remember that bowl being empty. That
was the bowl that everyone went to if they wanted to buy something small. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom would tell me to take money from the bowl to go buy a
bottle of Pepsi, when I asked if I could buy a comic book, I was told to take
the money from the bowl. My dad told me to take money from it to buy the daily paper.
The bowl was always full every time I went to it!</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="color: grey; font-family: "Britannic Bold","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><strong><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn't have walk in closets
back then - we didn't have a lot of clothes either! It was nothing if we wore the same dress or skirt twice in one week. I am not sure of this, but
I think we hung our coats on hooks on the wall where the landing led to the cellar steps. We had a coal furnace back then that my dad took care of- that part was
located towards the back, I never had to do this, but I remember my dad shoveling the coal off the cellar floor into the furnace and then using the poker to stir up the fire. Oh, the mess of black coal! In the front part of the cellar was the wringer washer and tubs.
Later on after I graduated from Beauty School, my dad fixed up a working area
for me so I could work on people’s hair.</strong></span></div>
<strong>
</strong><br />
<div style="background: white; line-height: 12.8pt; margin: 12pt 0in;">
<span style="color: grey; font-family: "Britannic Bold","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><strong>I really miss having table and chairs in our kitchen today. When we
first built our home, we had an eat in kitchen, my sons all sat around and did as I did when I was a child. We had dinner at the table and prayed before meals every night - I loved it. I did as my
mother did too, made my pie dough, bread, rolls and dinners. I also sat there and do counted cross stitch, rewrite recipes or write letters to friends.</strong></span><br />
<strong><span style="color: grey; font-family: Britannic Bold;"><br /></span></strong><br />
<span style="color: grey; font-family: "Britannic Bold","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: Helvetica;"><strong>When the boys grew
older, Ron wanted to redo our kitchen and make it into a Gallery kitchen so I
would have more storing space. That’s when we lost the heart of our home – now it
is the dining room where everyone gathers but it is just not the same - - - </strong></span></div>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Britannic Bold","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;"> </span></div>
<strong>
</strong>deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-48632837986907725682014-08-29T13:47:00.001-07:002014-08-29T13:47:17.347-07:00Me and My ShadowI have known Dee all of her life. I could start this assignment from when she was a baby, but I am going to fast forward to the last couple of years.<br />
<div>
Dee is a very compassionate woman, she truly feels your pain, and is a good listener. If you need her, she will do anything she can to help you. Dee is a loyal and dependent person. Another good quality of hers is, if you tell her something in confidence, she will not repeat it.</div>
<div>
She loves her job of working in the library, because she is a people person. She enjoys helping the patrons and doing the adult programs. She does have a fault and that is that she worries if the programs will go well and be a success.</div>
<div>
The more people around her, the happier she is. She also likes the quietness, but she would go crazy if it was quiet all of the time. It would be a depressing week if she did not see or talk to anyone. Lately she is having depressed days.</div>
<div>
Why, well this is her third time she has had cancer, and the third operation to remove it. This time is the worse because the breast cancer traveled to her lung on the same side as the cancer of the breast was. The second time. in 2013 and this time, 2014 - no one calls, or visits. Her brother was down the day after she got home from the hospital which was over a week ago, he came down to bring her mother in law down or else she would not of seen him either. Her mother in law brought the family dinner and home made pies, she is a thoughtful lady and very active for being 94 years old.</div>
<div>
It is heartbreaking to her that her own children don't call to check on her daily. Yes daily- what does it take to make a phone call - it takes time, and far be it that they have time for Dee to make that call. She bets that she does not even cross their mind during the day, they are too busy with their own. She is thankful and blessed that she has a good husband who calls her a couple of times a day. </div>
<div>
Dee remembers that she always called her parents and her husband called his, that is what you did back then, you called to see how they were and if they needed anything. The guys call their dad whenever they need to know something or is they need something, they never need to ask Dee anything. She feels all that she was good for was giving birth and being a good mom during the early infant and toddler years.</div>
<div>
She is aware of her faults, she knows that she is not good at crafts, and she moves slowly because of her illness, hernia and weight. She is very self conscious of all. Dee is a very sensitive person and tries to let things roll off her back, but then people have told her that she is too outspoken. She says things in such a way that the person takes it wrong, and Dee is not even aware of hurting someone's feelings.</div>
<div>
She has always been a thin person, very much into exercising, personal trainer and all. Towards 2004 she started to let herself go, and in 2006 she had her first bout with breast cancer and stopped exercising all together, that is when the weight started to pile on. Dee longs to be thin but is over whelmed with her fight against breast cancer.</div>
<div>
I think what Dee has done best in her life is being a young mother taking care of her young children, baking for her family and making sure they were well and happy. </div>
<div>
Today - She would do anything for her husband, children and her grand-children. They are her life - the reason for her existence - even though she knows they could very well get along with out her and would not miss her as much as she would like, and she know she would become just a distant memory.</div>
deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-8780339045799427352014-08-29T12:35:00.002-07:002014-08-29T12:35:38.431-07:00OBSERVATION OF AN OBSERVER<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XtxgHNfFCYA/UliSnCRfDvI/AAAAAAAABQg/j4ehUIf2pBo/s200/IMG_0861.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
As I sit here this morning my mind is turning in one hundred different directions. On the 17th of this month of October it will be 7 years since my first diagnoses of Breast Cancer, November 20, of the same year, 2006, I had a lumpectomy and they found it was the Triple Negative kind. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
The one type every one dreads. But what did I know back then, I was a newbie and I was going to conquer this and be a true survivor, be an advocate and do everything else that was possible to bring awareness to the women who had no history of breast cancer in their family that they knew of .</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
So that's what I did, Get your mammogram I posted on face-book. I sent e-mails out because it did save my life. Yes, this is definitely true. If it were not for that mammogram I would of never known that I had breast cancer.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Not one of my oncologist told me that the type of breast cancer I had was a very aggressive type and usually came back in the early years after being treated. . It had been almost 7 years of being clean, and the doctors told me I was out of the woods. I had my mammogram in August and had my visit with my chemo oncologist in December. Everything was good, finally I was starting to let my guard down. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
That was a huge mistake because in January of 2013 I found lump in the same area as the first and yes it was cancer. I had to have a mastectomy - I had it on Feb 27 of 2013 and went through Chemo again, I had more problems with that this time since I was on a blood thinner and caused bleeding in the bladder. The doc lowered the dose so I could get through all 6 treatments, which I did in August of 2013, that same month the kids had a fantastic surprise 50th Anniversary party on us with all our friends and relatives there - what a great time it was - God has truly blessed us.</div>
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<br />deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-18887751520590443252014-08-29T12:27:00.000-07:002014-08-29T12:27:05.791-07:00Christmas 2013<span style="font-size: large;"> As I go into the brightly cheerful stores and when I drive by the houses so nicely decorated, I can't help but wonder how the people really are that I passed in the stores and who live in those homes.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> The young families with children running around have to be the happiest, or maybe it's the son or daughter who came home from the service to their family, it could be the family who found out that their loved ones medical tests came back all clear. Or how about the couple whose adoption papers were approved and they will have a new son or daughter to celebrate the holidays with. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I can think of all kind of happy situations that might be happening, but then I can also think of so much sadness people must be going through at this "happy" time of year. There is the man who lost his wife a few months back, his heart is hurting and he is missing her terribly, then there is the woman who just recently lost her husband and is trying very bravely to carry on with the same traditions this holiday season for her children, even though her heart is broken. The dad who lost his job and wondering how he will feed his family for Christmas plus keep his children happy and healthy. The family who loves their son who is paralyzed from the chest down and wants to die, but they want him to want to live. People who are awaiting tests results and are afraid of what they will find out,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> So much goes on in this world of ours, but all of us are totally wrapped up in our own little world. I should not say all of us, as there are so many wonderful volunteers and organizations out there that are doing their best to make it a warm, fulfilled holiday season for the homeless, the unemployed, the people who are disabled and many more. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I feel sorry for people who are still carrying grudges from years ago, unable to forgive, and how could I forget the people who are alone for Christmas. Either they don't have family left, are newly divorced with out family around, or are orphaned. Maybe they are in a nursing home with no one to visit at any time not just during the holiday season. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> The fact is, this is life, the whole journey of life. Man's inhumanity to man. The third world country's are truly not thinking about the Christmas traditions right now. A lot of them are just trying to survive from being shot at, or everything including human life washed away from terrible floods. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Actually this can apply to right here, in our world also and does.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Let us be thankful for what we have, and somehow be able to help people less fortunate. I know that Springdale Library has a Santa Helpers tree for a couple of family's less fortunate then some of us. If you want to pick a snowman, stop in and do so.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Wishing you all good health, peace of mind and quiet of day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Let us remember the true meaning of Christmas is the birth of our Lord, Jesus. </span>deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-25935722295770960902014-08-29T12:21:00.000-07:002014-08-29T12:21:00.934-07:00The Ideal RoadThe ideal road would be smooth, with no surprises of pot holes, unseen dips or broken twigs that manage to get up under the vehicle. Alas, that doesn't exist in the real world, unless we developed our own.<br />
It would be amazing if our life would be as smooth as that perfect road. The perfect family, the perfect house, the perfect job, the perfect dog - I think you reading this get the drift.<br />
In my perfect world everyone would be free of all serious illness and Cancer would be curable.<br />
Families would love and respect each other. take time to keep in touch & children would be well mannered. <br />
But unfortunately there are no perfect roads, every one has a flaw just like there is not a perfect life.<br />
<br />deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-34192017935212541802014-08-29T12:18:00.001-07:002014-08-29T12:18:15.781-07:00Those Were The Days<img alt="" class="uk-O-x" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-PfIU_Lzk6Xs/Uz8htKUjCNI/AAAAAAAABS4/DzG3mzXJTBQ/h120/Brioschi.jpg" style="height: 120px; left: 0px; top: 0px; transform: rotate(0deg); width: 60px;" /><span style="font-size: large;"> As I age I find myself thinking of my childhood and teen years. Just little things, but little things mean a lot as the song of old goes. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> When I was a young mother, going through the infant stage, toddlers, childhood, & as a teen mom, I barely thought of my childhood memories, we were too busy making our own. We were enjoying raising our family. I did write a page here and there of what was happening in our lives, but they were few and far between. I can say that those were truly the best days of our lives.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> The boys were involved in so many activities, cub scouts, baseball, basketball, & football at all different ages and games were at all different times and different fields. I sometimes would have to go to two baseball games in one evening. Half the game </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">to see Ron J, and the other to see Brian play, because Ron was coaching the others. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I remember one time Ron called and asked me to go to the baseball field and line it. I had no clue what he was talking about but he thought I did. He said <em>"the liner and chalk is in the dug out in the back, all you have to do is put the chalk in the liner and make a straight line"</em>. Oh lordy I thought as I drove to the field. what am I getting myself into. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I parked and walked to the dug out and start pulling out the equipment I thought I would need, I had just started to understand what to do when the assistant coach came and took over. I was so relieved to see him and have him do it. He made it look like a piece of cake! I know that I would of really screwed up if I had to do it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I hated when Jeff & Ron played football, I thought it was too physical but they loved it, so what is a mother to do when their dad is all for it also? I put my game face on and went. I was always happy when the season was over. I found it hard living in a household of men. They are seemed to gel together in every sport and I was out in left field somewhere just trying to catch what was going on.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Baseball was a sport all the boys excelled in. Doug's nickname was Scoops, because he always could scoop up the ball. Doug and Jeff were good at pitching and hitting also and got many home runs. Ron was a left handed pitcher and a good one, Brian did not pitch but hit a lot, He always managed to hurt his ankle and was never able to play in the all star game. Every year he was picked and every year he hurt his ankle and could not play. I bet he felt bad inside though he never complained.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I liked to watch them play, but I watched for fly balls more then I watched the game. A lot of those balls came our way, one guy had his jaw broken. After that happened I could not relax, so after many, many times of going to the games, I finally wised up and sat on the other side of the field by myself. I didn't care that I was by myself, all I cared about was the fact that I knew no ball could reach that far and I could enjoy watching. Of course my boys and husband thought I was crazy but that didn't change my mind and my anxiety level went to zero.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> One of our favorite times as parents was when the boys and Ron & I would all gather in the living room and watch Happy Days and Lavern & Shirley. We would make popcorn and drinks and do a lot of laughing at the funny antics on the shows. That was truly family time together and we all enjoyed it. Afterwards it was bath time and bed. We had a good feeling of peace in side of us when the boys were in bed safe at night - all was right with the world, our world.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;"> But now in the twilight of my life (which I hate to write, but why pretend, is what it is) I find myself remembering so much.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"> For instance If I had an upset stomach the remedy in our home was to drink a half of glass of Brioche. My dad would put a couple of teaspoons of the little snow crystals (that's what they looked like) in a glass, then add water, I would watch it start too fizz and had to drink it fizzing. It's still on the market as I still see it in the little Italian stores. I have a bottle, not to use because it is way to old, but just to "remember." I keep telling myself to replenish the old bottle so I can use the new one.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"> I was left alone to babysit my brother a lot. It never came to pass, but I always worried how I would get upstairs to his crib in case of fire or burglars. I hated to babysit, I was always so scared and jumped at every noise I heard. At that time the radio and tv went off the air at 11 o'clock p.m. and the house was too dang quiet except for all these strange noises I would hear. I think my parents should have hired a babysitter for both of us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia; font-size: large;"> I remember having the measles around the time ofmy birthday, the party was already planned and it was too late to cancel. So she had it at the neighbors house while I stayed on the couch at home. She would come over at times and show me what the kids gave me for presents, but I felt sad to miss out on my own party. I know one gift was a pretty colorful umbrella she twirled it around so I could see the pretty colors. I don't remember the other gifts just that one.</span>deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-8872037905707827052014-08-29T08:33:00.000-07:002014-08-29T08:33:47.246-07:00Being HonestBeing Honest,<br />
<br />
Life is unfair to so many people. Why are some chosen to be the unlucky ones, the unhealthy ones, the homeless ones, the abused ones, the unloved ones? What did they do other than being born (which they had no say so in) to deserve this kind of life?<br />
For the life of me I cannot figure it out. I have heard of cases where one of the less fortunate met someone, or someone found them and turned their life around and made it all right in their world. But really, how many times does that happen?<br />
Life is unfair because right now as I write this<br />
there is someone going through a garbage can looking for scraps, someone is sleeping under a bridge with no pillow under their head or blanket to cover them. Thankfully the weather is nice so the little ones with out shoes can still survive. So many children are so hungry right now and they can't even find a crumb of bread, or they have access to free food, but the parents are ashamed to sign the permission slip to let the kids eat. Who suffers for that? Not the parents, the little kids do, because their parents are too ashamed or too proud to accept help. So sad, so very sad. There is a little kid right now home alone without food, who does not know where his/her parents or parent could be.<br />
. A person is being abused right now- because why? Someone wants to show power? someone has so much anger and hatred in their heart they are taking it out on the one closest to them whether it be child or adult. Or a little baby's cry woke up someone and made them angry enough to shake that little innocent baby to death? Some parent is taking a hit right now in front of their child, drinking booze from a bottle, slurring their words, and their child looks on.<br />
Life is unfair<br />
why do some children have to suffer from serious illness, they have no control over their lives and have to depend on others, They are in pain and don't know why. they break my heart. What do they think when they see other kids their own age laughing and playing? Hopefully the nurses and doctors make them smile and laugh during the day.<br />
Life is unfair<br />
Adults - oh, we think we are so indestructible, we are so wrapped up in everyday life that most of us take our good health for granted. We are too busy or too much in a hurry to make a phone call or my goodness, even a short visit to cheer someone. When hearing of someone else's misfortune, whether it be illness or job loss, we sympathize and then it promptly leaves our head. Why? because it has not affected any one in their family circle. And even if it does affect someone in the family circle we are too busy to do for them also.<br />
Life is unfair<br />
one day everyone will realize this in some way or another, even when the flowers are in bloom and the trees are gorgeous in color, the birds may be singing, the sun may be shining and even though we are thankful for this day - - - - - - Life is unfair to many<br />
deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-92082083141758537322014-08-29T07:48:00.000-07:002014-08-29T08:38:56.077-07:00HOMEWhen I am away from our home for a week, a day or even a couple of hours, I exhale a large sigh of relief when I get home? I might have been stressed from shopping, working, being at school, or coming home from a hospital stay, but as soon as I walk through the door I am thankful to be home.<br />
I admit, I never think twice if our home is standing or not, I just expect it. Some people might move from home to home through the years, but where ever they end up living, it is still home, it's a given that is taken for granted by many including me.<br />
I probably think of crazy things that never enter other people's mind. Lately I have been thinking of how homes and parents are alike, even though one is an object and the other a human being. I imagine children look upon their parents almost the same way as their home. The home, the parents - equal security- the grown children think the house will always be there, just like they expect their parents to always be there.<br />
I know that I looked upon my childhood home as a given, I never thought twice it would not be there for me, and yes, I looked upon my parents as a given in the same way. I could never imagine my mom or dad not being here beside my brother and I.<br />
I know that a human is more fragile than a home, a home can withstand many a storm where a humans body can be beaten down with illness and despair. Just like a house has to be kept in good shape to last, a parent has to keep feeling needed and loved to mentally stay in shape. Parents need to feel needed in some capacity, most of us gave our all to our children even while working out of the house or in the house, so it makes me wonder why some adult children push their parents aside. If it was not for the loving and giving parents that the majority of adult children had growing up, they would not be the adult they are today, or the good husband, wife, father, mother. Some kids do make time for their parents but they look on it as a chore, and there are the ones that do it with feelings of love and thankfulness they are able to. Of course there are the ones who tramp all over their parents,use them for their own needs, their own wants - until they have crushed them to the ground mentally and physically. Thank goodness this is not the majority. The parents can also treat their children the same way, abusing them, ignoring them, teaching them all of the wrong things to do and never a hug to be given.<br />
Blessed are those lucky enough to have had both parents, adopted or not, grandparents or not that raised us in love and in a good Christian home. Not everyone was so fortunate, many kids grew up in dysfunctional homes. Some of those kids made it through the rough times and some buckled under the pressure and didn't. Even a few of the kids that had it all didn't realize it and tossed it out like an old discarded toy. <br />
Many parents are blessed that their children live close or within driving distance to visit and be close to the grandchildren. The grand kids sleep over, bake cookies, go out to dinner or to the zoo, go shopping, - But- like with everything. there is an exception to the rule - because even though parents and children might live close by, one or the other might be too busy to make time to stop and visit by themselves or with the grand kids, even when passing by. Kids have many activities to participate in and some choose more then one. Some parents like to coach and some like to attend functions and when you have more than one child that becomes a very hectic and busy time in the home because you have to make time for all of their functions.. So if the grandparents want to see their grand kids and take part in their active life they attend all or as many as the can activities.<br />
What makes it hard is when a grandparent is not able to attend for one reason or another, they are the ones who lose out on sharing fun times through no fault of their own. That's when the extra push comes in for parents to make the time to have their kids visit their grandparents to tell them all about their activities. It is a neat that there is face time because that allows a grandparent to be there if not in person at least almost in person but nothing can take the place of a face to face visit and hug.<br />
I know of very few parents who don't give a hoot if they don't see their kids or grand kids, the majority live for those times and I am one of the majority.<br />
I think my husband and I are like most grandparents and love when the kids and the grand kids visit, our house once again becomes lively and gay, the quietness is no more, but all good things must end. <br />
Some of my kids lived with us until they were 28 and 30 years of age - there has always been some man/child around to make it lively and it has taken a long time to get use to the quiet But the home is still standing, our haven against all storms even when some storms push their way inside, the home is still a haven.<br />
Do you have any thoughts on this?. <br />
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deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-46294579755451866882014-08-07T13:46:00.000-07:002014-08-29T08:54:48.610-07:00Day Drive on a Ordinary Day <a border="0" href="http://www.shabbyblogsblog.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img class="HAa Eha" height="147" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/rcGUjac-iNCFCezprAf1KzRy-rm5sdjfhIx5lzp3z80=w717-h528-no" width="200" /></a> My oldest granddaughter Sara made this for me last week, Elizabeth has made one for me, Vinnie and the twins, this one was the easiest to get to. I love my grandkids, they melt my heart.<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Today</strong> I</span> <span style="font-size: large;">went for a local drive. I had to be out to run a few errands anyhow so what the heck. I have lived in this town for 47 years and have never really explored it, until today. My oh, my there are some quaint little streets that I discovered, even found myself going down a one way street the wrong way! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I never have had a reason to drive past the Lampas Ball Field, but today I decided that was what I was going to do.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I saw a lot of homes with porches and swings but no one was outside, not even kids, probably because they were at work. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I drove slow so I could look at everything, I was not disappointed. There were many pretty porches and yards. I think people, both men and women love to plant flowers and have vegetable gardens, It makes me feel good inside to see how other people enjoy the same things. It also makes me realize how we are all brothers and sisters in so much we mostly strive for the same thing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> It made me smile to see how each house has it's own personality by the type of flags they have hanging outside from their porch, not just the American flag, (most people fly the American flag in our town). I mean the cute, whimsical flags almost everyone has hanging now a days. They come in all sizes and shapes. The first time that I ever saw this custom was in Boston, Mass., I didn't know what it represented until I asked. No earth shattering reason - just for their enjoyment.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"> The custom didn't start here in my area until a couple years after it started in New England. I think I was one of the first to go out and buy a flag pole and flag to hang from my porch. The selections to choose from around here are not that great, it's best to go to Volant, or Amish stores to find different ones, that's what works best for me. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> As I was driving around, one house looked so darn inviting that I just wanted to park, go knock on their door and invite myself in. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I bet the inside was just as charming as the outside. I sort of get a idea of the décor inside when I see how the outside looks.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I drove all the way down to Railroad Street but shied away from going down to the boat dock. I really don't know what it's like down there, but I will wait and find out when I am with Ron. Railroad street has most of the businesses located there, like blue collar businesses. I didn't know we had so many in the area. I thought it was just Pittsburgh Paints and GENon, (I think that is the name, it use to be Duquesne Power Plant).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> One of the streets we lived on when we first moved here was Grant Street. The street had and still does have all duplexes. The one bad thing about living on that street was the fact that Duquesne Light Power Plant was right across the street and at that time I, nor anyone else could have a cup of coffee outside because the fly ash from the power plant would fall into our coffee, our hair, on our arms. If we opened our windows, the soot would cover the windowsill. I never hung my sheets out while living there.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">They built a new power stack so I don't know if the fly ash still falls as it once did. But I have to say that it was one of the friendliest streets ever, everyone sat outside, neighbors talked with one another and kids played and had sidewalks to ride their bikes on.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">You could borrow an egg or a cup of milk without even thinking twice.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Our yard left a lot to be desired, it was just the size of a postage stamp but the friendly caring people made up for it. Ron & Brian were about 4 and 5 when we lived there. Doug was born while we lived on that street, but two years after that we moved up to God's country where we still live, and that's where Jeff was born. I call it Clark's Summit because on a clear day you can see for miles and miles.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I still want to explore more streets. I did not cover all that I wanted. But I enjoyed the drive and it was a different and nice way to spend part of my day.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> What would of made it even nicer? - I should of stopped at Glenn's Custard !</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-4370372225165498712014-07-15T21:30:00.000-07:002014-08-29T11:59:03.204-07:00How Many Have You Had?<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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It has never become acceptable and it never ever becomes easy, it is like the very first time every time it happens. The stomach clenches, the mouth goes dry, body trembles some, and appetite has left completely. Anxiety has taken over, big time and I try not to let it show. Not that I have not had meltdowns, but my wonderful husband is the only one that has been with me through them. Thankfully there have only been a couple this time.<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> What is it I am talking about? It is being told that you have to have a "Biopsy." Just the word itself brings a feeling of fear, at least for me it does. Not a fear of having it done, but a fear of what it will show.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I don't know how many I have had, I truthfully never thought of myself as having to have one, I heard of it but never associated it with me, it never entered my mind - Who me? </span><span style="font-size: large;">Nah, not me. Oh - yes, ME. I have had too many for sure, different names for some but the same name for others. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> I have had two Pet Scans, that number I know is correct, but I can't remember how many CT Scans I have had, maybe more then the biopsy's or maybe just as many. You notice I have not mentioned MRI's, that is because I have a Pacemaker and can't have that test.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> My last biopsy was this past Monday. I was awake through it but very relaxed, they numbed the area and I didn't feel a thing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">There were so many things that could have happened or have gone wrong, but God guided the doctor's hands and it was done with out any complications. I had a wonderful team with me. Thank you all that prayed for me, God answered our prayers.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Now I am in the waiting process, I should find out on Friday the results when I go to my appointment. Am I anxious - yes, but I will deal with whatever it is, if it is anything. It is in God's hands, though I am praying with all my heart that it comes back negative.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> and would appreciate your prayers also.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Everybody has some kind of battle they are fighting, but I have to tell you I am awfully tired of worrying, & wondering, - I would truly love to have a free mind - I know there are many of you out there that feel as I do - - </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-50717457092120777162014-05-18T14:31:00.002-07:002014-05-18T14:33:03.504-07:00TURN AROUND AND SHE'S SEVENTY<br />
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So this is what the seventies are all about. People that are in this category (like me) are called elderly, older citizens, or just plain old people. It is hard for me to grasp that I am in this age group.I don't think I should have those names attached to me, because I don't mentally feel ELDERLY.<br />
First of all, my mind is young, body not, but from illness, not age. But alas it doesn't change the fact that I am classified as elderly. Me, seriously? Yep, <br />
I feel comfortable around people of all ages, and love to carry on conversations with the young ones too.. I learn a lot from listening to them. Like so much has changed since I was that age, and yet so much has not. Mothers are mothers, they want what's best for their child and love them unconditionally. When my boys were young, I was a firm believer in what ever Dr. Spock said, today if I should mention Dr. Spock, young mothers say "who".<br />
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My oldest son is 49, I can hardly believe it, it seems like yesterday that I was that age. I remember being in my forties quite vividly. Our house was very active, in fact my husband called it "Giant Eagle" because it was open 24 hours a day, every day!.<br />
Not a dull moment at all! EVER! Even though our neighbors were decent, they still called the police on us whenever my son Brian would practice playing his drums. To this day I don't know why they didn't call us instead, didn't they know that the police would tell us who was making the complaint? Anyhow, we lived with it, but between the music, cub scouts, PTA, sports, and everything else you can imagine fun loving boys would do, I worked. At first at night, then during the day. I wore many different hats during the years but the best one of all was the one that said "Mom", and of course "wife"<br />
We were blessed with relatively healthy kids, with the usual childhood illness, and a lot of strep throat. They were close with each other growing up, played and fought, but made up and played. Close in high school also, each one cheering the other one on in what ever sport event was going on.<br />
I married young compared to the age of today. I was 20, had my first born at 21, my second at 22, my 3rd at 26 and my fourth at 28, all beautiful healthy boys. <br />
All those wonderful years are behind me, now I have beautiful, loving grandchildren to see grow. I am blessed to have 6 girls and 1 boy. All those years of never being able to buy frilly, girly things and I finally get to spoil too my hearts content "girls" and my little guy is easy to spoil, he is so lovable.<br />
My kids are now living my life and my husbands life, we watch, admire and enjoy the great job they are doing and are so proud of all of them. They are good men, loyal, trustworthy, loving and compassionate and kind. <br />
Times are changing, and have been for quite some time, so as time marches on, so does our age. I guess to a 30, 40, or 50 year old, we, who are in our seventies are elderly, We honestly are not, we still have a lot of spunk in us, so don't write us off as elderly or old. <br />
One day you will be in our shoes and know of what I write<br />
I hope I am blessed to live the rest of my seventies, I want to see my grandchildren grow, make decisions on schooling, etc. I would like to see the first woman become President, I would like to see a cure for cancer, I would like to see peace in the world, I would like to see all children in loving homes, heck there is so much I would like to see including many, many, more days of new beginnings. God willing and the creek don't rise, maybe I will.deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-9227023083271018082014-05-08T21:39:00.000-07:002014-05-08T21:39:23.922-07:00Whatever Happened to - - - - - - - - -?<a border="0" href="http://www.shabbyblogsblog.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"><img src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-5dQ0Wz6QGEw/TjlJg01VDlI/AAAAAAAAACw/ANiH2kaWYWM/w105-h140-p/048.JPG" /></a> So I sit here and realize I have no right to complain. I am blessed more then most and in more ways then one.... But - yes, I am going to complain, and many will think I have no right (if it helps any, I feel guilty doing so)<br />
What has happened to the old traditions? Some of the young parents today are setting a new tradition for their children. Children learn from their parents, and so it goes without saying that they won't know what days are special if it is not celebrated. That means their children won't know the tradition because it will be treated as just another day.<br />
There is the possibility that young parents today didn't celebrate traditions because their mom and dad didn't, therefore they didn't know any better. <br />
Okay, I know I am rambling, it's just that I have so much I want to put down and it is getting jumbled up in my brain. <br />
There are 7 days in a week. Those days, for some, are filled from morning to night working, doing chores, being a spouse, caring for children, helping with homework, taking part in activities, being a chauffeur, and attending their children's activities. That's fantastic and wonderful that they do all that, plus they take an interest by going to all their kids extracurricular activities.<br />
Mind boggling for sure. I have 4 sons and when they were growing up and involved in different activities, it was hard for me to be at every one's activity if it was held on the same day at the same time. Their dad would hit two and I would hit two, but many times their dad was involved in one of the sons activities, so I had to go to the other 3 . Whew, we were all exhausted when the day was done. But there was "Sunday"<br />
Today Sunday is treated like any other day of the week. Of course hospitals, police, firemen are expected to work to keep us all safe, even back then, but it still use to be such a relaxing, traditional family day. Go to church, home for breakfast, read the Sunday paper, visit your parents or if lucky enough your grandparents, or they would visit us. <br />
I use to go with my parents and visit their siblings too. What I use to hate is when we would stay for the weekend at my grandmothers. At that time children were seen but not heard, so I was ignored. While the adults gathered around the table I sat in the living room. At that time my brother was not born yet and none of my cousins lived close by, so it was quite lonely. I found my love of reading through all those weekend stay overs and I lived the lives of Nancy Drew, Little Women, Black Beauty, Heidi, and Tom Sawyer. I was a nurse, a detective, a farm girl, oh so many lives I lived reading those books. They saved me.<br />
Mother's Day - I know for a fact that as a kid we didn't have activities and our kids did not have activities on that day or Father's Day. Those days were set aside to honor our parents, those of us fortunate enough to still have them around. <br />
Did you know when I was a child and teen, and even as a young adult, that on Mother's Day, if your mom was living you would wear a pink carnation, and if your mom had passed on, it would be a white one. Another tradition that went by the wayside. And while I think about it - the tradition of wearing a hat and/or wearing a orchid on Easter has been forgotten also, just like not wearing white gloves anymore. I still have mine in my cedar chest from way back when.<br />
If I were a parent today and my kids had an activity on one of those two days (that only happened once a year,) they would not be permitted to attend unless it did not interfere with visiting their grandmothers or grandfathers . <br />
What the punishment would be I don't know. But I do know that in our house it was a very important that we spent time with both of my grandmothers and I carried that on when we became parents.<br />
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Whatever happened to priorities?<br />
deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-28565580661299446442014-03-06T15:45:00.000-08:002014-08-29T12:24:11.865-07:00CITY GIRL - <img class="Dd-yj-oe-Mi" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-iXDIO1gSsZ4/UEE2vHDON-I/AAAAAAAAAKc/yfdbnA4cxVE/w140-h105-p/my%2Bchildhood%2Bhome.jpg" style="transform: rotate(0deg);" title="my childhood home.jpg" /><br />
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This 2014 winter reminds me of the old time winters back in the late 40s and the 1950's. Winter consisted of continuous snow days and was taken with a grain of salt. It was winter, and that meant snow. No one was ever disappointed.<br />
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I lived in the city as a child and teenager, walking was a given. Kids walked everywhere, school, home for lunch, back from lunch, back to school, to the store, dentist, doctor. If parents didn't want their kids to go, they made them stay home and the next day wrote an excuse to the teacher that their child was sick. The adults walked also, everything a person needed to do was in walking distance when living in the city.<br />
My friends and I played in the snow constantly. We made snow angels, built snowmen, went sled riding. had snow ball battles and built forts out of snow. I never went skiing or ice-skating. It was never mentioned or it wasn't popular with my group.<br />
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In order for the cars to go in the snow, ice, or both, snow tires always had to be used. All the cars were rear wheel driven during those years. When it was really bad, metal chains had to be put on all four tires. The chains had to be straight on the ground, then back the car on top of the chains, when that was done, the chains had to be connected to the two ends that were loose around the wheel.<br />
In the glove compartment of the car was a box of monkey links. Every car had to have this box because if the chain busted it would continually hit against the inside of the wheel well and that could cause a hole. <br />
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If a chain would break you would have to see what chain it was and position the tire so you could connect the two broken pieces with the monkey link than the weight of the car would compress the chain together and you could be on your way. One thing you never wanted to do was drive on dry pavement with chains still on the tires, - they broke instantly. I can still remember seeing the cardboard box in the trunk with the rusty old chains inside.<br />
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They were truly a pain in the arse to use, but cars didn't have front wheel, all wheel, or four wheel drive back then, only Jeeps. Today the mail trucks, and fire trucks still use chains when they need them, They never know where they will end up going and even with four wheel drive, they still need chains in some situations.<br />
I miss my Jeep, I could go anywhere driving and feel absolutely safe. Now I have a front wheel drive with winter tires. No, I do not feel safe in it and I hope someday I will again be driving a Jeep.<br />
I loved being a city girl, and it was very difficult for me to adjust to not being able to walk to where I needed to go once I married. We lived in Port Vue, which is on a hill. In order to go to the store or visit the doctor's office, a person had to have a car to drive. We remained a one car family until we built our home in Springdale Township. With kids growing up and going here and there <br />
we needed two cars and have had two ever since.<br />
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<br />deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-7066496352822847162014-01-07T19:38:00.002-08:002014-08-29T12:25:14.520-07:00A Day of Purpose People stare at me everywhere I go, it's not because I'm pretty, and it's not because I'm dressed in the latest style. Why? It's because I have a 10 cc incision hernia that makes me look dreadfully fat and at the same time pregnant and lopsided. I have accepted it. They can't operate because it would be risky and I have gone to more then one doctor. <br />
If I were younger this would bother the hell out of me. But at my age I could care less, I'm not looking to impress anyone. I work at a place where they accept me as I am and for who I am. I love these people, they are real - - - <br />
If I were still working where I worked last, I could not say this, as they dressed for show and yes, so did I, I loved looking my best and I loved clothes. I could start a clothing shop in my home as of this morning with all the clothes I have that are in style but I no longer fit into.. <br />
Which is why I am writing this because, today we spent time up in my so called clothes closet, which is actually a spare bedroom filled with clothes on racks and in bushel baskets (yes, I'm ashamed to say, I was materialistic). Why do I still have them you ask? Like with most, I thought I would lose the weight and get back into them and my husband kept thinking that way even when I realized it was not going to happen.<br />
Today was de-clutter day, and boy did I ever. It felt so good to fill up big plastic bags with clothes to give to 2 different places and three bags of sweaters. Yep, a lot still had price tags on them, and anyone who knew me back when, can remember me always wearing long sleeve white shirts - they were still in good shape from the cleaners wrapped in plastic.<br />
Now I have a nice clean room to decorate but next stop is the computer room Yi Yi Yi, Yi Yideeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83140507148348513.post-27452914582889857512013-11-21T21:15:00.001-08:002014-08-29T12:28:42.985-07:00Dino, but to some Gino I just turned off the television, and I'm ready to shut the laptop down and head on to bed. I glanced around the living room to make sure everything is status qu before heading upstairs when my eyes land on toys scattered by the fireplace. Toys! <br />
My sons are grown and married, so at first it does not register why there are toys laying around on the rug, Then I realize they are my kitty Kat's toys.<br />
I guess Dino was bored and took all of his little toys out of his basket, I surmise he was looking for a certain little mouse he loves to play with. I had to chuckle to myself seeing him cuddled up on the rocker fast asleep and his toys on the rug, it sort of tugged at my heart. He is a bad one, this kitty Kat of mine, but I love him even though he loves to bite. He can be trying to bite my ankles one minute and then turn around and be so lovable. He definitely is Bi-Polar. I never know what to expect out of him. Out of the blue he will jump up and try to bite my arm, but yet sometimes when I am on the couch he will jump up onto my lap and sleep. I try not to move when he does this as I don't want to wake him, Ron thinks I'm crazy doing this and just shakes his head at me.<br />
We have always had dogs, but when our last one had to put down I knew it would not be fair to have another one. With both of us working all day and things to do on the weekend, he or she would be one lonely mutt. So I decided on a cat, even though I had never had a cat as a pet before. We got our first one at the no kill animal shelter, a beautiful long haired black cat who was so laid back and lovable. We named him Dakota and had him for many years until he got sick and had to be put down. The house felt empty after that, no kids, no animals, I hated the quiet, even the television or radio didn't help.<br />
One day two years ago, I went up to the mall to the pet store. In my mind I doubted that they would have any cats, but lo and behold they had 3 black and 2 gray and white. Now you think after having all black dogs and a black cat, I would go for the gray ones, right? Wrong, two of the black ones were brothers and I knew better then to bring two home, so I asked to see the one who was with the gray ones. The guy brought him out to me and sort of just shoved him into my arms, I was taken aback at the rough way he handled him, so I start talking soothingly and petting him at the same time. We both adjusted to each other and he settled in my lap content with my petting him. <br />
Of course I brought him home. He was very scared and nervous at his new surroundings and hid under the bed for what seemed like forever. We let him be so he could get used to us and the house. He finally got brave enough to come out for food and to use the liter box, but hurried right back under the bed again. Gradually, after much coaxing I got him to come to me and he let me pet him. He started to stay out in the open more and more till finally he felt safe . He is in no way like Dakota. Dino is afraid of his own shadow and jumps at the slightest noise, it doesn't help that my husband does not like him and hollers at him a lot, it just makes him more skittish.<br />
He loves my son Brian and me. When I am home alone with Dino he follows me around and has to be in the same room as I am in. I feel good that he trusts me, but I am not so sure I can trust him!<br />
He doesn't fetch the ball and bring it back to us like Dakota did, and he is not crazy about the laser light when I try to play with him, but he does love his toys and has favorites, he will also chase his tail forever and that entertains him, Go figure!<br />
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Hey!! I think I just broke the writers block I have been in by writing this!! yea for me.</div>
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Wishing you a very healthy, happy and safe Thanksgiving enjoyed with your family.</div>
deeronhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03835925614642574730noreply@blogger.com2