LOVE AFFAIR, WITH COMPUTERS

MY computer is dead. I have lost a friend.  How can something so inanimate be such a loss in your life.  My computer is my connector to others, first and most important.  My computer is my playmate because at this time in my life, I don't have many left. Play is not a word many old geezers like to utter. Everyone seems so serious. Thanks to all of you who are helping me find a new playmate.  I appreciate every enlightenment.  My friend was five years old when I had to say goodbye.  How did I get so involved in computers? This story is a bit long, but tells you a lot about my journey.

I got into some real trouble in Arabia.  As Director of Education and Training,  I had introduced Assessment Centers as a tool to evaluate the depth of knowledge and skill of new employees.  We had trouble with credentials being falsified and skill being absent. Upon completion each supervisor got a detailed evaluation of their employee.  The expectation was that they would assure further evaluation and teaching with the end product being competency.  OKKKKKKKK.....  that was work. Work was avoided at all costs by some, embraced by others.  My boss didn't like her supervisors to be under too much stress.  She called me to her office and told me to cease and desist with this assessment center evaluation.  I kindly and carefully put my position forth.  Since we know we have problems, (some could not take accurate blood pressures, Rn's) we were morally obligated to take action.  Well, my boss informed me that as a ex-nun who took a vow of obedience to authority and she expected that I would.  I was so distressed by this time, that I told her... "When I graduated from Duke, I took a vow of disobedience to ignorance.  It is ignorant to ignore clearly dangerous practices."   Needless to say that my next visit to her office had the personnel director sitting with her.  She had notes by the dozens about me.  The writing was on the wall.  I had about six months to go before all the tuition was paid for my daughter.  I apologized with my fingers crossed. I needed to hide somewhere.

I made a plan.  Let my very competent politically astute Assistant be very visible.  Let me be invisible.

In our department we had six brand new IBM computers.  The room was clearly state of the art for housing computers at a very low temperature and for training.  Problem was...nobody knew how to use the things. .  We just got so much stuff,without required training.  I opened the door of the cool and green room  finding a hide out from the hot sun, and choose my machine.  I found the manual.  I found a tutor.  Away I went.  I learned how to use the seven inch discs, how to word process, how to do spread sheets.  I was in love.  My instructor staff sometimes thought I was daft.  Later they were so distressed when I had them all learn to use the computers to do lesson plans.  No more handing long handed written lesson plans to our most competent secretary.  Do it once on the computer. Save time.  Of course this was counter the corporate  culture.. 

My love affair was heating up.  Every time I did one thing, there were ten more to do with the computer.  I stayed out of sight, out of trouble, and was able to hand in my resignation in my own time.  I left with learning that I would never have had if I had not gotten into deep trouble.,  My love affair has continued.

I left Arabia and went to work for Joint Commission and was traveling alone from place to place for months and alone..  One lazy Saturday, I was shopping in a tiny town in Virginia.  I wandered into a Radio Shack. A knowledgeable young man was quite persuasive and I walked out with a brand new Tandy. I had my playmate.  I remember that I was so excited to see that I would need only to use five inch discs, not seven inch ones.  I began writing reports and letters and so many other things using that machine.  The kindness of many Radio Shacks from coast to coast will never be forgotten.  Such fun. 

 

From that day to this, I have moved from just a machine and me, to a machine, me and the world.  I continue to love gaming, blogging,and am looking forward to all the new things that are just around the corner.  I do scare the bejesus out of young salesmen when I am talking computers.  There is something very unnatural about a 77 year old with spiked grey hair talking ram.  Sexy?

TODAY I MET SALLY, NOT HER REAL NAME

People will on occasion ask me why I volunteer.  This is just one of many reasons.

I go over to the Clinic about once a week to volunteer.  It is a far cry from going into an ambulatory setting and doing an assessment as a surveyor, but far more interesting in many ways.

I was sitting at the information desk today and a woman, maybe in her fifties, five foot give or take an inch or two, approached the desk.  "Where is the Administration Office?"  Her face was void of any emotion and her unwrinkled face was not hostile, I couldn't decide at first  why she might want to go there.  I was able to engage her in polite conversation while I could assess the situation a little more.  The Administration office is hidden in a corner of the building and they don/t even want us to know where they are. This is a sign of the times, I guess. Kinda goes along with the minimalist approaches of our CEO. Before I could really think too much, she started her rant... "I have had 22 appointments at this clinic since the first of December and I want to tell you  (I was dreading the next words) and I have NEVER BEEN TREATED MORE NICELY!!  I immediately let out a sigh of relief.  She went on to name the doctors, the clinical staff member's and in detail how they had helped her.

As I listened, she moved from the front of the desk to the side as to get closer to me.  Her story then began to unravel.  She was told a year ago that due to her cancer of the liver, she only had a year to live.  She was standing in front of me with a smile and looking healthier than most of us. She let me know that she had met death and was dealing with it on her on terms. Her cancer has spread from her liver to her back, then to her bladder, and abdomen.  She had been given chemotherapy which did not work, but she was getting ready to try it again.  She would repeat every now and again that she had been sent to our clinic because she needed us.

Turns out she needed to share a little of her life with me. I was a willing listener. She had started driving an 18 wheeler truck when she was young.  She had gone off the road after she got pregnant with her daughter, but shortly after delivery, had taken her back on the road with her.  They had lived on the road until it was time for school.  In those days, she told me, there were just a few women who were drivers.  Early on she had a partner, but later did it all by herself.  She explained that her daughter didn't have much to do with her now, she was an embarrassment to her, although she had put her through college. She had a real good job now.  The pain in her eyes told me that she had spent many hours thinking but never crying.  Although later she told me she had learned to cry as she was taking this journey.

In the old days it was so different to drive. For one thing, she explained, when the trucking company gave you your log, they gave you a bunch of pills, uppers.  All I could think about was the New Jersey turnpike and the trucks with truckers wired and barrelling down the road.  She went on to tell about the trips she took from coast to coast.  She would take one thing from Pennsylvania to California, pick up another load and drive back.  The short time it took to do that astounded me.  The pressure for the drivers was intense. She said she started doing cattle because it paid a lot more.  Dirty work getting those varmints into the truck.  But she had tuition to pay and would do anything to keep her daughter from a life like hers.  Today it is better and safer to be a trucker, with all the electronics, communications, phones....big brother is always watching and your trips are really carefully evaluated.  It is much safer for all drivers.  Even basic bodily needs are difficult.  You just stop by the side of the road to pee or carry a container. Of course you might just let it fly. I really laughed at her description followed with a feigned whisper as she told me.  Guns are not allowed in the cab of a truck but a flare gun is emergency equipment and is just as effective. And it is legal. To be safe one has to be a loner.   It occurred to me that we never hear about tragedies that happen to truckers.  I asked and she simply said, it is a different world. No one would care a lot. You do not see truckers at PTA meetings or the country club, although the money is great.  Most people drive to help their families with the most money they can make, then get addicted to the open road.

Showers were few and far between.  In the old days the showers were just a big room, like a locker room in high school.  You would have to pay the owner to guard the door while you took a five minute wash.  Food was not always available, especially during the middle of the night riding through the plains states.  She told me how you can cook a roast by securing a pot to your motor.  Takes so many miles to do a roast, and you put the potatoes and onions in before it is totally done.  With pride, Sally told me that even when you smelled like a wet dog and went in to eat, the men would stumble over themselves offering you a seat.  I sure came to the wrong conclusion about that... her take was that she was respected and in a way that "your world" would never understand. We count material things. Truckers do not.

Before she got sick, she bought a new rig.  It was shiny black.  The back had a double sized bed which can be put away and a shower and kitchen rises in its place.  She loved it because when she talked her eyes just lit up.  When she told me that the rig would make you hotter and wetter than any guy.  Two security guys who were casually listening to this story almost lost it.  They headed for the back hall.

She said she had paid dearly for the life she had chosen.  She had lost two husbands.  Her family had become strangers.  There was no time to really develop friends.  She came home last year and bought a home near her relatives for support while she died.  Well, that was a story, she said.  Their backs were turned.  They pretty much were happy to take the money she had sent them from time to time, but now, well support wasn't there.  Whatever the reasons, she had made adjustments.  There was a young girl next door who had befriended her.  Even more so since the girls abusive boy friend got Sally's treatment. He was being his abusive self and Sally just took things into her own hands.  A good grab and twist of the balls with a push against the wall. She loved seeing the color recede from his face. He has not been seen since.  She sometimes forget who the girl is, in her pain and medication fog, she said, but she has put her picture in her Bible. She has two friends God and the girl next door.  When she opens the Bible to read, her friend is there smiling at her, just like God.  She talked of God like he was a really good friend.  She didn't preach.

She lived life her way.  She begins chemotherapy again soon.  This time it will be easier as they have given her pain medicine.  She knows she is going to beat this and with the help of our Clinic she will succeed. The hug she gave me will last for weeks.  I hope she feels the same.  I hope I see her again, but my clinical mind says I won't see her much.

Now you know why I volunteer.

Games, Are We All Crazy

Games, Are We All Crazy...
from Go Fish to Farmville 2

I waked from my nap today, popped out of the bed to rush to my computer.  I almost missed the time! My sunflowers should be mature, I could pick them and have enough food to feed the sheep which have the last piece of wool that I need to make a blanket.  If I have one more blanket, I can get a bonus.  Now if this is not crazy, please tell me what is?

I started thinking about games and gaming. I was amazed what a role that gaming plays in my life. How about yours? 

I tried to do something of a time line of my personal gaming history.  I had fun remembering sitting at the dining room table on Sunday playing  Monopoly with grandmother trying to keep me occupied because we lived so far away from friends. When I visited my other grandmother, MeMe, we would play Chinese checkers for hours on end.  I can remember her laughter.  Actually, outside games were another issue.  Every single day, outside or in, school was a wonderful place to play games.  I so looked to recess and the challenges of Hop Scotch, Red Rover, Dodge Ball, and later softball. When not in school when I had a friend over it was Jane and Tarzan or other alone imaginary games.

College brought to me an awareness of Bridge.  We would have a constant game that lasted for weeks  Yes a table for four. We kept it going.  And then there was golf and tennis that were required courses.  Such fun on dates. I don't think they are required any more.
I learned to play Cribbage after I got married and met my father-in-law who was avid.  I soon graduated to penny poker and even a few games of strip poker in those early years of marriage. Canasta with the girls was a special time.

Then along came video games..oh my goodness!!! I have played games every since we bought our first ATARI system. Pong was the game that everyone had to have. The rush we got from watching the one ball, then more ....what was the objective?  Pac-Man was soon to come on the scene.  I would come home and play to get rid of the stress.  For just a few minutes I was transported to another world. 

Then I really got busy.  No time for frivolity. But I began using games as soon as I started teaching. In the beginning it was simple scavenger hunts and moved on up to complicated day long games to teach management and cross cultural issues. People told me that men, and especially doctors just would not participate. But they loved the games. Men love competition. BaFaBaFa is particularly great and very complicated.

I do not remember any game playing except golf, which I miss to this day...when I was married to Ralph. Especially playing with the kids when they were little. But when I retired, I found myself with time on my hands.  It was not long before my nieces Nancy and Suzie introduced me to Ultima Online.  The fantasy began.  I could be anyone I wanted to be.  I took on the persona of a little five foot tall, chestnut haired WoodNymph.  I played so many hours that I will never admit how many.  I took a time with StarWars and a few other games, but my Ultima account stayed active for over 12 years.  As Facebook became part of my life, I quickly signed on to the games available.  I spend a few minutes a day playing Bejeweled but lots of minutes playing Farmville2.

Daily, I shall not mention where, I pick up my Sudoku book and do a game or two.  Not so long ago, I was given my first Kindle and now I can play anywhere I go and do not need to rely on my iPhone for Solitaire, and a bunch of others.  Bubble games are such fun to play before I read at night.

I feel somewhat vindicated in that prestigious institutions of higher education are teaching gaming. I took a Coursera https://www.coursera.org/#courses course recently on Gamificaton taught by Wharton Business School at University of Pa. I am taking another beginning in a couple of days. Game Theory taught at Berkley.Yes they have a courses at the graduate level. They are all free. If you don't know about them, I think they are well worth your time. From higher math to who knows what else. All Free.

The question is... Am I addicted to just any game?

Oh I forgot to tell you about my memory games from Lumonsity.com. Gotta keep your mind exercised!

And I do eat, bathe, sleep, paint and have wonderful conversations with my friends.  Isn't life one Big Game?

2013 WHAT WILL YOU BRING?

HAPPY NEW YEAR  2013

Writing this Blog has been so erratic.  I want to apologize to you.  I am not near so disciplined as my nephew Jim, Hawksbill's Cabin, and  envy that dedication.  The blogs I write are important to me, so I am intending to do it this year.  I want to write down the doings of two ladies of the 1880's.. if I cannot do this, I cannot do that.  I need to know you are reading, enjoying, and supporting me....so here goes.

Most of my writing will be done looking out my window.  I use this window as a view into the outer world.  This year it begins as do most Cleveland winters with snow and more snow. It never ceases to amaze me that life just goes right along as if nothing had happened when we are seeing 16 inches, like this fresh first day of the new year.

This year I will focus on the past and the future and in no real order, just as it happens or as it occurs to me. I have sent out a letter to some of you and want to repeat it here. If you didn't see it, I want to make sure you do have an option.  It gives kinda an overview with so many people and things left out.  I have added other notes for blog purposes, in red.  Written on New Year's Eve.

 

Soon I will be settling in to spend an exiting New Year's Eve watching Anderson and Kathy battle. I will dream of Eve's past and future.

I didn't get cards out, as usual. So thought I would brief you about the year past and the year to come. My activities have been and will be varied, rewarding and challenging.

• I continued to paint and to watch my mentors' career grow as she opened her gallery in North Olmsted. CONGRATULATIONS! Please visit either in person or on line.. http://www.joanndepolo.net/
• Volunteering has been an important part of my life and at Cleveland Clinic I continue to put in a few hours a month and love to watch the funny funny dynamics of management, and to lend a hand to those in need. The front desk is not saving lives but it makes them better. I plan to volunteer at the gallery, maybe just to hang out more than anything.  It is like a warm wonderful home. 
• Education is still fascinating and I am not talking about politics. I attend classes at Baldwin Wallace college and the local community college. They have "older adult" classes. I have learned to play the recorder, among other things. I am taking FREE classes on Coursera. Wonderful concept from Duke and other top layer universities. Check it out. https://www.coursera.org/  I have Alyce doing it too, she is much better at doing all the classes.  You can take as few or as many as you wish.
• I had a wonderful Thanksgiving in Crofton MD and Raleigh and Eden. The family met for turkey day and I saw all the clan. We have a wonderful crop. Only Sterling was not there. He had to work. :-( NANCY amazes me and Mary and Jim are OUTSTANDING hosts. I spent time in Raleigh with Alyce and doing things with my friends. Thanks Maggi! Our time is precious, and Ann!old memories are fun and Nancy and Barbara! Gail I so loved our time together. I celebrated Christmas in Raleigh early with such thoughtfulness from JEFF AND ALYCE. I learned that air travel and train travel is great for us oldies. I plan to do more, Florida and NC are on my list for 2013. Its my 60th high school reunion omg did I admit that?
• I plan to be conducting a collage course, called YOUR LIFE,WELL-LIVED. I will be glad to go into detail, if you are interested.  I plan to go into detail on the blog as time goes on.
• I am still not done with two big projects. My genealogy and the novel about two ladies born in 1982...Georgianna Hallock and Alice Boone. More later. I spent some wonderful time with my cousin in Eden, Frances Cox, we scoured the hills of Southwestern Virginia and sources and Rockingham County and Basset Virginia. She is my kind of people schedule and all. Thanks! We found such treasures.
• I still use my TV to keep me company and have moved my studio, in part, into my living room and can watch and paint. Days of my Lives continues to stay on. BookTV is wonderful and makes the slow weekends move faster. My kindle is taking over on some days.
• My letter writing project is on hold, but expect your special letter this year.

I really thought I was bored but now I feel tired and am ready for a nap before the festivities begin. Snow has started again to add to our personal 16 inches. I have such affection and love for each of you. Please keep the emails ad letters coming. Rusti

HAPPY NEW YEAR

2013

That is my start, restart of my blog.  Help me by giving me feedback.  How am I doing?

 

Rusti Craddock Moore-Greenlaw
440-836-4444
7205 Timber Lane
Olmsted Falls, Ohio 44138

COUNTING BLESSINGS

BRING COLOR INTO LIFE

I cant stop thinking about color.  It is another great puzzle in my life.  Yesterday I went to buy a set of cubes to sit beside my chair.  I am painting a lot of little things, for miniatures,sitting in my living room chair at night.  I found myself in a red space. Sorta.  After some time I did find a set of cubes.  I had a choice: dark brown, black, or white.  I looked for the boxes that go into the cubes.  I found black, tan, soft lime, soft aqua and pink. The colors were muted. I then spent the next hour in Target looking for color. My living space is made of yellows and I wanted more perky.  Everywhere I went women's clothes, towels, curtains, rugs..... shades of diaper brown, white, cream, black and gray. 

I stopped an unsuspecting clerk and chatted about my observation.  She was about nineteen and decided to explain it to me.  I was, of course on my borrowed target scooter, my hair all white, no tattoos(yet), and  no piercings except in my ears properly.  She had decided that I could not hear, needed a very loud voice, and that I only came out of my haunt when i could be let out by my caretakers.  I do like to open a dialog with unsuspecting people and watch them walk away shaking their heads.  I have plenty of time and I know they must listen to me.  Gives me great sport.

She told me that , today, most people didn't use color in their house.  They simply used the "neutrals"  and only occasionally put in a splash of muted color. She seemed so assured.  I asked her why?   It took a few minutes because I do believe that critical thinking was way above her pay grade. I knew I should move on.  I had already said enough. I had caused enough psychological damage.  I could sense that she couldn't wait for break to describe this long encounter with the old gray fool.  I do not act in this way when my family is with me. Their embarrassment is quite severe.

I left still in a quandary.  It brought me back to my move from my condo in Raleigh when the realtor told me that the place would never sell with my beautiful brass fixtures (they needed to be brushed metal of a grayish color) and the beautiful yellow walls must take on a neutral color and my carpets should be removed and off white or neutral be put in.  I could never make a point that my house was furnished in colonial hence the brass, and yellow made me happy.

I decided to search and find out why we are so much in a colorless/muted place.  I found one source gave these enlightenment's.  It seems to simply come down to political correctness .  Seems we need to make sure when we wish to sell our places, entertain in them, or have our children or guests feel comfortable, we need to maintain NEUTRALITY. We try not to be offensive.  I guess I did lie to you when I said I was not being political today. 

Help me understand why.... Why we are leaning toward neutrality.

Let me share some color with you....

Colors, like features, follow the changes of the emotions. - Pablo Picasso

While perceptions of color are somewhat subjective, there are some color effects that have universal meaning. Colors in the red area of the color spectrum are known as warm colors and include red, orange and yellow. These warm colors evoke emotions ranging from feelings of warmth and comfort to feelings of anger and hostility. Colors on the blue side of the spectrum are known as cool colors and include blue, purple and green. These colors are often described as calm, but can also call to mind feelings of sadness or indifference.

 Lets whoop up on the color in our lives.  Lets feel the emotions of color.  Lets take chances.   We may end up poor,and not emotionally safe. That is what gives us a vital life.

The Blog is Back

The Blog is Back !!!

Today is April 9, 2012.  I have not posted in many months and find it is time again to begin again.  My journals and other projects seem to come and go.  It is an election year and I think I will document my thoughts about this process. I do feel an obligation to say a few things about myself.  There are some of you who do not know that I am and old lady of years, 1935 was a good year. I am older than most trees and younger than almost all rocks.

 I have had some life experiences that will color what I say.  I grew up with my grandparents and learned the values of the depression and old time religion.  I lived in a time that men were drafted and came back ready to face life.  I marched with Martin Luther King in the fifties, I demonstrated in the seventies for women's rights, and I worked on electing Obama.  I spent three years in Saudi Arabia and traveling to ten countries most were Islamic. I taught cross cultural survival, Shari'a law as it applies to health care, and management in a multi cultural setting.  I traveled in all states surveying or consulting in over 700 hospitals.  My thoughts and beliefs, politically, are based on my experiences.  We are all prisoners of our own experiences.  I will remain a prisioner unless you help me escape.

I am quite distressed that many people, even most people, cannot discuss politics without it being arguing.  I learned very early in my educational life (in high school in Louise Smith's senior English class and virtually ever class at Duke), that healthy exchange of ideas and beliefs is one of the things that made this country great.  It was the one thing that made us so different from many other civilizations. Being able to hear someone else in intellectual exchange is what makes me great. We do not seem to be able to do this anymore.  We have become so POLITICALLY CORRECT that we cannot even talk to our own folks about the issues.  Seems people are so afraid that they will offend they remain silent.  Now here comes my favorite quote....

“The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who in times of great moral crises maintain their neutrality”. Dante

This quote has been paraphrased by many.  Substituting the word SILENCE for neutrality.  But you get the point.  Most of the silence is based on fear.  That others will take it out on us.  They wont continue to be our friend.  The list goes on.  It is a sad time when there are those who are actually afraid for their life.  To me the scariest thing in the world is limiting my freedom of speech.

Of course, we must all be responsible when we hold forth with our opinions.  We must to the best of our ability search for truth and talk in truths as we know them.  Being responsible in regard to our facts, to me,  means that if you watch Fox you must also watch MSNBC.  If you listen to Rush you must also listen to Michael Moore.  If you think that a certain person would be a good president, then you have knowledge of their values and abilities. You must seek out the news  on PBS, Al Jazeera ,BBC, as well as the ones we know so well.  You must have read the Bible and the Koran if you want to tell others what either of them teach.

My blog has turned the corner to seriousness, controversy and generally stirring shit.  It will hopefully be enjoyed by folks of all ages.  I would love to see the set-in-their-ways people to get un-sot.  I will promise to offend all of you and every politician.  Every post will not be political, some may just be nonsense.

Things to Think Upon...for today.

http://www.linktv.org/  

SARASOTA WARMTH

We start out as a simple human being.
We have a very small circle, very few knots have been tied. Then as life moves on we weave our maze of relationships. Family, friends, aquaintences.... they make us who we are and we make them who they are.


I have not posted much in the last month or so.  My discipline left me for a while.  Traveling, visiting my sister and friends in Raleigh, traveling on to  Florida to visit my neice  Susan and her partner, and I fall into bed each night with a sense of warmth and love from so many people.  As I was falling asleep last night I was thinking about the people in my life and how much they mean to me.  I am limiting my comments to Sarasota.

The Household Rulers

To little time with Auntie

When we arrived in Sarasota, the home of my Suze (neice), I added to my complex maze of people a wonderful new person AND HERS.  She is Suze's partner.  I felt very included and was brought into their circle with warmth and love.  Then we had a family dinner and I met her mother, her Aunt,KIDS, Dad... her past ..... All I could do was to think of how blessed we are each day. We never know how that new person will enhance our life whether it be for a second or two, or for the rest of your life.

Melissa and Dad

I was also drawn to think about people who dread family things.  Dread having to spend time with parents and other relatives.  It made me so sad that so many folks find that the time they spend with family is a duty, boring or worse yet tedious and paintful.  How wonderful it is to be able to enjoy fully FAMILY as individuals and as a group.

Laney gives us Inspiraton



Melissa is Hiding her Mom

 Each time you are together you learn new things about people you know so well.  My sister is with me on the trip and I have learned more about her after all these years. She takes care of my needs and is so attentative.  This morning she woke me to let me know food was on the table, demonstrating caring. That is such a simple thing, but caring is shown in simple ways.  My neice provided food.  I didn't know she was such a good cook.  Yesterday and today I was made aware of her caring for us all.

Josh

When you enter a new home and take a deep breath as you are automatically faced with impressions.  Here there is a feeling of comfort, acceptance and love.  You can feel it.  Some places you go, into some homes, there is a sense of uneasiness.  Will you break something, do all the things you should, and will you meet all the expectations.  Not so here.  You are accepted, with all your faults, disabilities, and unique personality.  Thanks Suze for choosing a wonderful partner.

Laneys' Wonderful Smile

In this new home there are children.  You can tell so much by watching and interacting with the children.  The openess, participation and concern that are reflected through the honesty of children cannot be faked.  Thanks Suze for sharing this wonderful little folks with me.

Molly says, "Is this toxic>"

Mother Melissa and Son Josh 



Mother Suze and Son Jamie



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Extended Family Relaxing



SPRINGTIME TRIP SOUTH

Leaving Snowy 7205 Timber Lane , Olmsted Falls Ohio

I am told that one of the most important things to any Blog writer, or any writer.... is to sit down every day and write.  Discipline they call it.  Since I have very little of the D word I have not been engaged in my Blog activity for over a month.  I am back.  I hope to do more writing .  Just a refresher.  I am writing this blog to allow my daughter and my grandson, and anyone else that is interested, to jump into my life.  My past, my present and what I am dreaming about for the future.  It is a political commentary.  It tells of my bias.  I hope you enjoy the strange thoughts of a old crone.

I left cold,icy, slippery and grey Olmsted Falls on February 17, 2011.  I was lucky and drove all the way to Raleigh with no misadventures.  I could feel the warming every mile I drove.  It seems kinda risky as I look back, I had had major surgery on the 7th.  But it was by laproscope and nada issues , so why not?   Alyce was off on Friday and the weekend was upon us.  The very first thing was a meeting at Jason's Deli with the Kindle Girls.  It was so good to see both Nancy and Barbara.  We didn't talk a lot about books, but did manage to report of a few we had read.   My visit with Jane Brown, friends since 1960, was so deeply wonderful that there will be more of it later.

Two Craddock Women...Jean (right) and daughter Lynn

I was able  to have a long visit with the Thompsons --Jean and  Bill. Lynn and her son joined us at Wilburs Barbecue.  I was treated to a great meal as usual.  It was wonderful to be with them and hear about family.  Wish she and Lynn could have been with us in Raleigh at the family Craddock Women of NC..get together at Gail Craddocks.

Bill, Jean's hubby,looking like Kenny Rogers...at Wilburs




NORTH CAROLINA BARBCUE..OMG

 I rested and spent the next week warming up and catching up in Raleigh.  I know why one should write every day ... the details of those two weeks before we started to Florida are very sketchy.    We packed the car and started or trip on March 5.  We drove straight through to Sarasota and it was a very pleasant day.  Alyce and I took turns.  She didn't use to help drive, but does now.  That was terrific. My nephew Jeff was the backbone of the trip.  He helped and helped and helped.  His presence as a traveling companion cannot be touted enough.  Jeff, THANK YOU.

Arrival in Sarasota was so warm and wonderful.  Meeting Susans' new family was a treat.  Melissa is warm, loving and really a great person.  Her children  Laney and Josh were a positive force in the house.  They are terrific kids.  Whoever said that the younger generation is going downhill just don't know what they are really like.  These two are so bright and loving.   Well, they take after their Mom, what can I say.  The hospitality was outstanding.  I did not know that Susan was such a good cook!! More Later.

Melissa and Son, Josh  So Handsome!

Laney...Girls are Wonderful!

Special Art by Laney

I took off for places even further south.  Visiting my long time friend Alice Parrish is always wonderful and this visit was no different.  She entertained me grandly.  I envy her lovely house so much.  It boasts a guest house where I got so much rest!  I really guess I may have traveled a little earlier than I should have after the surgery so by the time I got there I was really exhausted.  I slept late every day.  When I pulled myself off the most comfortable bed I have slept in in years, I was served the most yummy  grapefruit juice ever. Much more later about this wonderful friend and visit.

  Alice brings in grapefruit from the tree (she planted the tree when she first moved in, it had been a houseplant for years.)   She puts it into the refrigerator a few days before using and squeezes the fruit right before serving.  Yummmmm   We spent time with Stel and Ed.  Each have lost a mate in the two weeks prior to my getting there.  I felt so sad for them.  But we laughed and ate together.  It is fun to get to see the real part of Florida and not the tourist part. I have a blog dedicated to Alice and will post it soon.

Back to Sarasota for a few days.  More good food, outings to include picnicking and quilt showing, was next on the agenda.  Meeting Melissa's mom and Aunt was a treat as well as spending time with them.  I just regret that it was such a short time.  I really enjoyed them and feel like I have made new friends.   We left early in the morning of the 12th and had a long tedious trip.  We decided to go through Atlanta and that made our trip a two day one.  All three of us were zombies when we pulled into Raleigh. 

Seaside Club, Wilmington A Very old Vintage Place

Dermas beloved Wilmington Home

I took off again for Wilmington and a visit with my friend Derma.  She has a lovely home with a carriage house.  Again, I was treated like royalty.  Her home is the most comfortable place you can imagine.  We talked nonstop and ran here and there.  She shared with me her friends and I feel that I have made some friendships of my own that will last a long time.  These women, Marie, Vivian, and Carol were so knowledgeable and engaged.  I so wish I had friends like that in Ohio.  Derma is a really lucky woman and deservedly so.  Marie and Carol are nurses, Vivian a teacher and Meredith graduate.  I wanted to talk all night.

Vicki and Carol   Two Craddock Ladies... More Later

Back to Raleigh for a a weeks rest before starting back.  I have had the pleasure of meeting again my relative, Gary Hayden (one of the Grands of the Craddock brothers).  Gail Craddock, my cousin, is the best organizer.  She did the first family get to gather when I first got to Raleigh.  Craddock Ladies of North Carolina.  We were the granddaughters of the Craddock Brothers.  Her North Hills  house has been the site of our gettogethes.  We were missing the two Jeans.  Jean Craddock the granddaughter of Bernie and Jean Craddock Thompson., the granddaughter of Versa. We were also missing Betty Ray Hankins the granddaughter of Cecil.  Her hubby, Clarence, (I was in her wedding) died just a few weeks ago.

This week will find me having dinner with Gail and Nancy, , attending an event at Christ Church on Wednesday, doing a workshop with Sharon at Jerry's on Thursday, and going Chicky looking at the feed store in Pittsboro on Friday.  On Sunday, I will   travel to Salem Virginia to spend a yet undetermined amount of time with Betty Ray, my.cousin.  I hope to have lunch and visit with another cousin, Betsy Ray Wrenn Groseclose, and a college friend while I am there. 

This may become a yearly thing.  No one wants to come to Cleveland, so I guess the only alternative is to come south.  Not that I am complaining. 

I did not get to see or spend time with special special people.  That is my sadness.  Time takes away our freedom by impairing our body or our mind.  This is so painful to me.  The people who have meant so much to me in my life are so missed.  When it is impossible to touch them, to hold them, and to tell them how much I love and miss them. my sadness is almost overwhelming.  No one told me that it would hurt so much.



A LOVE STORY MAKES YOUR HEART SING

I read this recently and recalled my visit to the Ghetto.  My feeling when I was simply riding through in a tour bus was shivering.  I cannot imagine how it would have been to actually live there. I was in Poland doing a project for USAID and meeting the people and seeing the places made my heart really cry.  Just think in the midst of all the horror, love wins.

My posting tonight, however, is really in honor of my friend who is helping a couple with many memories like this one, spend their last days on earth.  She has for years honored them as her friends with a heart as big as the heart of the little girl.  I respect you and am glad to call you friend!

A Girl With An Apple

(This is a true story and you can find out more by Googling Herman Rosenblat. He was Bar Mitzvahed at age 75)
August 1942. Piotrkow , Poland .
The sky was gloomy that morning as we waited anxiously. All the men, women and children of Piotrkow's Jewish ghetto had been herded into a square. Word had gotten around that we were being moved. My father had only recently died from typhus, which had run rampant through the crowded ghetto. My greatest fear was that our family would be separated. 'Whatever you do,' Isidore, my eldest brother, whispered to me,'don't tell them your age. Say you're sixteen.I was tall for a boy of 11, so I could pull it off. That way I might be deemed valuable as a worker.An SS man approached me, boots clicking against the cobblestones, and then asked my age 'Sixteen,' I said. He directed me to the left, where my three brothers and other healthy young men already stood.My mother was motioned to the right with the other women, children,sick and elderly people.I whispered to Isidore, 'Why?'He didn't answer.

I ran to Mama's side and said I wanted to stay with her  'No, 'she said sternly.'Get away. Don't be a nuisance. Go with your brothers.'She had never spoken so harshly before. But I understood:She was protecting me. She loved me so much that, just this once,she pretended not to. It was the last I ever saw of her.
My brothers and I were transported in a cattle car to Germany ..We arrived at the Buchenwald concentration camp one night later and were led into a crowded barrack. The next day, we were issued
uniforms and identification numbers. 'Don't call me Herman anymore.' I said to my brothers. 'Call me 94983.'I was put to work in the camp's crematorium, loading the dead  into a hand-cranked elevator.I, too, felt dead. Hardened, I had become a number.Soon, my brothers and I were sent to Schlieben, one of Buchenwald ' sub-camps near Berlin ..One morning I thought I heard my mother's voice.'Son,' she said softly but clearly, I am going to send you an angel.Then I woke up. Just a dream. A beautiful dream.But in this place there could be no angels. There was only work And hunger. And fear
.A couple of days later, I was walking around the camp, around the barracks, near the barbed-wire fence where the guards could not easily see. I was alone. On the other side of the fence, I spotted someone: a little girl with light,almost luminous curls. She was half-hidden behind a birch tree I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German. 'Do you have something to eat?' She didn't understand. I inched closer to the fence and repeated the question in Polish. She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid. In her eyes, I saw life.She pulled an apple from her woolen jacket and threw it over the fence. I grabbed the fruit and, as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly, 'I'll see you tomorrow.I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day.She was always there with something for me to eat - a hunk of bread or,better yet, an apple.We didn't dare speak or linger. To be caught would mean death for us both.I didn't know anything about her, just a kind farm girl, except that she understood Polish. What was her name?  Why was she risking her life for me  Hope was in such short supply, and this girl on the other side of the fence gave me some, as nourishing in its way as the bread and apples.  Nearly seven months later, my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped to Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia  'Don't return,' I told the girl that day. 'We're leaving.'

I turned toward the barracks and didn't look back, didn't even say  good-bye to the little girl whose name I'd never learned, the girl with the apples. We were in Theresienstadt for three months. The war was winding down and Allied forces were closing in, yet my fate seemed sealed.On May 10, 1945, I was scheduled to die in the gas chamber at 10:00 AM.  In the quiet of dawn, I tried to prepare myself. So many times death  seemed ready to claim me, but somehow I'd survived. Now, it was over.I thought of my parents. At least, I thought, we will be reunited. But at 8 A .M. there was a commotion. I heard shouts, and saw people  running every which way through camp. I caught up with my brothers.Russian troops had liberated the camp! The gates swung open  Everyone was running, so I did too. Amazingly, all of my brothers had survived; I'm not sure how. But I knew that the girl with the apples had been the key to my survival.  In a place where evil seemed triumphant, one person's goodness had saved my life, had given me hope in a place where there was none.  My mother had promised to send me an angel, and the angel had come.  Eventually I made my way to England where I was sponsored by a  Jewish charity, put up in a hostel with other boys who had survived the Holocaust and trained in electronics. Then I came to America , where my brother Sam had already moved. I served in the U. S. Armyduring the Korean War, and returned to New York City after two years

By August 1957 I'd opened my own electronics repair shop.I was starting to settle in.One day, my friend Sid who I knew from England called me.'I've got a date. She's got a Polish friend. Let's double date.'A blind date? Nah, that wasn't for me.But Sid kept pestering me, and a few days later we headed up to the
Bronx to pick up his date and her friend Roma.I had to admit, for a blind date this wasn't so bad. Roma was a nurse at a Bronx hospital. She was kind and smart. Beautiful, too, with swirling brown curls and green, almond-shaped eyes that sparkled with life. The four of us drove out to Coney Island . Roma was easy to talk to, easy to be with. Turned out she was wary of blind dates too!
We were both just doing our friends a favor. We took a stroll on the boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze, and then had dinner by the shore. I couldn't remember having a better time  We piled back into Sid's car, Roma and I sharing the backseat.
As European Jews who had survived the war, we were aware that much had been left unsaid between us. She broached the subject, 'Where were you,' she asked softly, 'during the war?''The camps,' I said. The terrible memories still vivid, t he irreparable loss..I had tried to forget. But you can never forget
She nodded. 'My family was hiding on a farm in Germany ,not far from Berlin ,' she told me. 'My father knew a priest,and he got us Aryan papers.'I imagined how she must have suffered too, fear, a constant companion. And yet here we were both survivors, in a new world.'There was a camp next to the farm.' Roma continued. 'I saw a boy there and I would throw him apples every day.'What an amazing coincidence that she had helped some other boy.'What did he look like? I asked.'He was tall, skinny, and hungry. I must have seen him every day for six months.' My heart was racing. I couldn't believe it  This couldn't be.'Did he tell you one day not to come back because he was leaving Schlieben?'Roma looked at me in amazement. 'Yes!'
'That was me!'
I was ready to burst with joy and awe, flooded with emotions.
I couldn't believe it! My angel.'I'm not letting you go.' I said to Roma. And in the back of the car on that blind date, I proposed to her. I didn't want to wait
'You're crazy!' she said. But she invited me to meet her parents for Shabbat dinner the following week.
There was so much I looked forward to learning about Roma, but the most important things I always knew: her steadfastness, her goodness. For many months, in the worst of circumstances, she had come to the fence and given me hope. Now that I'd found her again, I could never let her go.That day, she said yes. And I kept my word. After nearly 50 years of marriage, two children and three grandchildren, I have never let her go.
Herman Rosenblat of Miami Beach , Florida

This story is being made into a movie called The Fence.