Hello! Gosh it's been awhile. How have you been? I wish I could tell you that my absence from the blogosphere was because I had something very exciting going on in my life, like a trip to an exotic (and warm) destination, but sadly, I've been here all along, waiting out the winter with a gigantic stash of comfort foods. Yup, the only thing that has gone south is my derriere, bogged down with bread pudding, mashed potatoes with butter and gravy, oatmeal-butterscotch cookies, homemade cinnamon rolls...you get the picture.
Along with my butt, life in general has been on the south end for a while, as well. After three months filled with funerals (a young community member, a cousin, my father-in-law, and a family friend, plus a few not as close acquaintances), a few family issues I can't publicly discuss other than to say I was definitely blindsided by them, a health scare for my husband (thankfully, a mass discovered was benign), my own ongoing health issues (migraines, back & neck problems, and now treatment for a rotator cuff issue), a couple extra unemployed adults to feed and house (there are possible job offers pending--TG), and decreased income from job losses/cuts with increased debt from medical bills and major house malfunctions, is it any wonder that depression reared its ugly head in my life? I am now getting that under control and hopefully life will get back on a smooth road once again. The sun is peeking out....whew!!
I guess my resolve to be more consistent in my blogging didn't work out so well, either. Often times, writing is a stress buster for me. Believe me, there were more than a few times that I thought I had an idea worth writing about, only to fizzle out by the time I had a chance. Sometimes I felt the need to write, but much of the need would have been to get negativity off my chest, but who wants to read that? In a similar fashion to not saying anything if you have nothing nice to say, I felt if I had nothing good to write, I wouldn't write anything at all. I am truly wanting to go to blogging and thinking in a positive mind frame, dealing with the negative as it comes, but searching for the good in life.
Bright spots are coming through these days. I can tell spring is around the corner by the increased level of chirping in the trees outside my house. Rather than running to do their business and quickly scampering inside, my dogs have been lingering outside, noses to the ground, as if they can actually smell life under the waist high snow piles and still ice-covered walking paths. This old house (101 years) has been creaking more lately; I imagine it too is starting to thaw from this brutal winter. Believe me, with March knocking on the door, spring could not come soon enough for me. It would be nice if the melting doesn't happen too fast, though, so the flooding is minimized. I worry for all of those who live in areas that may once again be struggling with flooding issues. With my basement actually being inhabited by humans instead of spiders and the occasional mouse, I would hope to not have water problems there, either!
I have been drawn in by the Winter Olympics this year. I love to watch ice dancing and speed skating. The women's and men's half pipes competitions were also spectacular. I imagine the skiing is nerve racking--I wouldn't want to drive in a car as fast as some of those skiers are flying; I can't imagine being on a mountainside racing that fast! I think of all the bumps and falls and how these athletes carry on day after day, compared to my aging body, which can't seem to handle even the smallest falls or bumps. Quite the stamina these athletes have! I have been especially interested in hockey this year, particularly men's hockey. David Backes, a member of the USA men's team (and member of the NHL's St. Louis Blues team) is the son of my husband's cousin. It has been great to see someone from humble roots work tenaciously to achieve personal goals. He is truly an example of a blue collar working class family's hard work and sacrifices to reach for the gold! I was bummed when the first few games were not broadcast on network television (I don't have cable), but was able to catch the games Wednesday and Friday (what an amazing game on Friday). I look forward to Sunday's rematch with Canada. Go team USA!
Time to get up and at 'em. Once again, the weekend will be filled with a myriad of activities, sandwiched between the need to declutter and continue organizing. It's not the North wind you'll be hearing this weekend folks, it's the whirr of my engines as I race to complete the tasks on my never-ending list. It's been said that an idle mind is the devil's playground, so I imagine idle hands must be forced to shovel coals. Happily, I am nowhere near heat, so perhaps this winter is a sign of true paradise. It has been angelically white, if I must say so myself, and my hands would rather be flapping out snow angels than shoveling coals any day!
Have a beautiful weekend and look out for signs of spring--it shouldn't be long now!
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Little Things
Sometimes it's the little things that make my day. Such was the case yesterday, and I woke this morning, blanketed in warm thoughts. It started with something as simple as reading one of my favorite blogs, Farside of Fifty's Forgotten Old Photos.
As some of my readers may already be aware, I love to immerse myself in family history. Sometimes it doesn't even have to be my own. For some people, genealogy is getting the most names in a family tree. For me, it is about finding the ways in which people are interconnected and learning about their lives. What are their stories? When I hit the jackpot, I can be giddy for days.
Such is the case with Della. Rather than relay the whole story, I invite you to check out the progress of events from photo publishing to reunification of photo with a family member. Farside and I have married our interests a couple times on her Forgotten Old Photos blog. She brings forth the photos, with as much information as the picture relays, and if there is enough information to do a search, I go digging through ancestry.com records to try to find a history on the subject and his/her family. We've had some successes in searching and she has made connection with some families(though this will be the first photo to be returned, I believe), which brings us both great excitement! Additionally, there are other regular visitors to her blog that supply their expertise on clothing styles, photo types, etc.
Soon, Della's photo will be on its way to her daughter, Virginia, a woman in her late 80s, whom has pretty much lived in the same location all her life, as did her mother. Della's photo, however, has traveled from Illinois to South Dakota to northern Minnesota. The final trip back to Illinois should be a sweet one!
As some of my readers may already be aware, I love to immerse myself in family history. Sometimes it doesn't even have to be my own. For some people, genealogy is getting the most names in a family tree. For me, it is about finding the ways in which people are interconnected and learning about their lives. What are their stories? When I hit the jackpot, I can be giddy for days.
Such is the case with Della. Rather than relay the whole story, I invite you to check out the progress of events from photo publishing to reunification of photo with a family member. Farside and I have married our interests a couple times on her Forgotten Old Photos blog. She brings forth the photos, with as much information as the picture relays, and if there is enough information to do a search, I go digging through ancestry.com records to try to find a history on the subject and his/her family. We've had some successes in searching and she has made connection with some families(though this will be the first photo to be returned, I believe), which brings us both great excitement! Additionally, there are other regular visitors to her blog that supply their expertise on clothing styles, photo types, etc.
Soon, Della's photo will be on its way to her daughter, Virginia, a woman in her late 80s, whom has pretty much lived in the same location all her life, as did her mother. Della's photo, however, has traveled from Illinois to South Dakota to northern Minnesota. The final trip back to Illinois should be a sweet one!
Friday, January 1, 2010
2009: Out On A Sad Note
Our family didn't really ring in the new year as much as we sent out the old year on a sad note. In the bitter winds of December 31st, we stood at attention and listened to the song of the distant lone bugler. The finality of those solemn notes is felt ever more deeply when they are played in honor of one you love. As Taps hauntingly floated through the air, a volcano of emotions erupted: thankfulness and respect for a life well lived and services rendered to God, country, and family; honor for knowing and being part of that life; sadness in knowing his physical presence is gone, yet happiness in knowing a new life with God, absent of pain and suffering, was his eternal gift.
My father-in-law passed away peacefully Tuesday morning, after a valiant struggle with health issues. We were very fortunate to have a final family holiday celebration on Sunday, in which he was very alert and involved, refusing to rest for a single moment, while his wife, children, and grandchildren surrounded him with love. He enjoyed his favorite foods, he joked around a bit, and he shared his gratitude for the day. He rested all day Monday, drifting in and out of sleep, then slowly slipped into God's hands as Tuesday morning broke. We knew his health was failing, but most of us just didn't expect him to pass this week, and didn't quite expect Sunday to be the final goodbye. His final wish was the Sunday gathering, and with that fulfilled, he was ready to be called to Heaven. He was a gentle loving man--a wonderful husband, a dedicated father, a super father-in-law, a doting grandpa, and a supportive brother. We will miss him greatly, but are relieved that he is no longer suffering.
We offered our final goodbyes yesterday at the church, surrounded by a multitude of extended family members, friends, community members, and the Honor Guard of the Richmond American Legion Post, of which he was a past commander for two years. He was a Veteran of the Korean War, serving as a MP in the U.S. Army from 1949-1953. He never talked much of his service time, but his family always knew he was honored to serve. He loved this country deeply and the flag presented to my mother-in-law at services yesterday is already prominently displayed in their home.
As I finish this entry, I would like to share with you the words I wrote in his memory Wednesday morning. My father-in-law was an avid gardener, in soil and in life, and thoughts of him came together in this piece.
Richard The Gardener
The gardener’s tools are set aside,
His hands no longer toil,
Winter’s snow has mounded upon
The fertile garden soil.
Perhaps you’ve tasted produce
From his abundant yield,
But his greatest crop ever
Came not from earthen field.
No, t’was the living seeds he planted,
Starting at his birth,
The relationships he nurtured,
As he walked upon this earth.
Life’s garden rows aren’t always neat,
Weeds pop up all over the place,
But Richard, the gardener, tackled pesky weeds
With dignity and grace.
Whether you entered his garden plot,
As family or as friend,
His love for you was rooted there,
Until the very end.
He came here as a plant from God,
The finest of seeds from ’27,
Now his time of growth here is done,
He’s been harvested and back in Heaven.
As you survey plants in your own garden,
Think of Richard and wear a big smile,
For as sure as the sun rises and sets,
He’s with God and they’re here all the while.
In Loving Memory ♥ Richard Nicholas Thomes ♥ 3-27-1927 to 12-29-2009
Our family didn't really ring in the new year as much as we sent out the old year on a sad note. In the bitter winds of December 31st, we stood at attention and listened to the song of the distant lone bugler. The finality of those solemn notes is felt ever more deeply when they are played in honor of one you love. As Taps hauntingly floated through the air, a volcano of emotions erupted: thankfulness and respect for a life well lived and services rendered to God, country, and family; honor for knowing and being part of that life; sadness in knowing his physical presence is gone, yet happiness in knowing a new life with God, absent of pain and suffering, was his eternal gift.
My father-in-law passed away peacefully Tuesday morning, after a valiant struggle with health issues. We were very fortunate to have a final family holiday celebration on Sunday, in which he was very alert and involved, refusing to rest for a single moment, while his wife, children, and grandchildren surrounded him with love. He enjoyed his favorite foods, he joked around a bit, and he shared his gratitude for the day. He rested all day Monday, drifting in and out of sleep, then slowly slipped into God's hands as Tuesday morning broke. We knew his health was failing, but most of us just didn't expect him to pass this week, and didn't quite expect Sunday to be the final goodbye. His final wish was the Sunday gathering, and with that fulfilled, he was ready to be called to Heaven. He was a gentle loving man--a wonderful husband, a dedicated father, a super father-in-law, a doting grandpa, and a supportive brother. We will miss him greatly, but are relieved that he is no longer suffering.
We offered our final goodbyes yesterday at the church, surrounded by a multitude of extended family members, friends, community members, and the Honor Guard of the Richmond American Legion Post, of which he was a past commander for two years. He was a Veteran of the Korean War, serving as a MP in the U.S. Army from 1949-1953. He never talked much of his service time, but his family always knew he was honored to serve. He loved this country deeply and the flag presented to my mother-in-law at services yesterday is already prominently displayed in their home.
As I finish this entry, I would like to share with you the words I wrote in his memory Wednesday morning. My father-in-law was an avid gardener, in soil and in life, and thoughts of him came together in this piece.
Richard The Gardener
The gardener’s tools are set aside,
His hands no longer toil,
Winter’s snow has mounded upon
The fertile garden soil.
Perhaps you’ve tasted produce
From his abundant yield,
But his greatest crop ever
Came not from earthen field.
No, t’was the living seeds he planted,
Starting at his birth,
The relationships he nurtured,
As he walked upon this earth.
Life’s garden rows aren’t always neat,
Weeds pop up all over the place,
But Richard, the gardener, tackled pesky weeds
With dignity and grace.
Whether you entered his garden plot,
As family or as friend,
His love for you was rooted there,
Until the very end.
He came here as a plant from God,
The finest of seeds from ’27,
Now his time of growth here is done,
He’s been harvested and back in Heaven.
As you survey plants in your own garden,
Think of Richard and wear a big smile,
For as sure as the sun rises and sets,
He’s with God and they’re here all the while.
In Loving Memory ♥ Richard Nicholas Thomes ♥ 3-27-1927 to 12-29-2009
Sunday, December 13, 2009
HEY! WHO ARE YOU CALLING ELDERLY?
The definition of elderly, according to the online Merriam Webster dictionary, is rather old, especially past middle age, or old fashioned; it is defined further as relating to, or characteristic of later life or elderly persons.
So, how do you define someone who may fit that description if you numbered their years, yet you have a hard time defining as elderly, due to the negative connotations the word often holds? I am not sure where the negative spin comes from, but many people get beyond a certain age (it is different for everyone) and they dread hearing the word 'old' in reference to themselves. Perhaps it is because the word old is often linked to things that have served their useful purpose or gone bad (old car, old shoes, old food, old house, etc.).
People of any age never outgrow their usefulnesses, while in fact, their years of living often add to their value. If the wisdom that comes with aging could be converted to money, we'd never long for anything. Even without the conversion factor, the rich blessings granted to those surrounded by the wisdom of elders is irreplaceable. Yet, the negativity factor of the word 'old' or 'elderly' sometimes sticks, especially to those of us approaching or past middle age. To make matters worse, the youthfulness of one's mind and soul are often overlooked when trapped in an aging body.
It seems all people of certain eras are lumped together, as people that will all enjoy the same activities, be in the same state of health, or have the same thoughts on matters of the mind. In my experience, this is generally not the case. In conversations with my sisters this week, I was reminded of the word elderly being used in a way that offended my dear Mother.
One of my sisters took my mother Christmas shopping this past week--Tuesday, to be exact. The weather in their area, while a little messy, was nothing like the southern part of the state. At the mention of the shopping trip in our Facebook banter, the following conversation ensues:
Sister # 1:Just got home from St. Cloud--out Christmas Shopping with Mom :) The wind is really blowin'! Not too much snow yet, but expecting more...
Sister#2:Well, glad you made it home without injury this year :)
Sister #3:Did you learn last year's lesson and get home a little earlier this year? LOL!
Sister #4:Mom's OK, they didn't stop at my house for a beer before going home, so no slippsy down my front stoop "while out late night holiday shopping" this holiday season! ;)
Sister #1: Rest assured, I held onto Mom even tighter this year! And we giggled as we walked arm in arm in the blowing snow--recalling last year's episode. Who says my Mom is elderly? She certainly doesn't believe it and neither do I!! I love her youthful spirit!Got her home by news time--no bumps or bruises and lots of shopping accomplished!
Sister #3:Our mom is a trooper--you would think all those kids, she'd be worn down, but instead, it seems to have kept her young. We are so lucky to have her!!!
Obviously, by the above conversation, there is more to this story. Here's what happended last year:
My mom and my sister (#1) went out Christmas shopping in St. Cloud. (There may have been another sister there as well, but I can't recall that detail, as I wasn't there.) They stopped off at a another sister's (#4) house for refreshments. I truly don't know if it was beer they had (as sister #4 suggests in the conversation above), but it is highly possible, as my brother-in-law is a brewer, and would rarely be without a growler on hand. On the way out of my sister's house, my mom slipped on the ice and injured her leg. I think the time was somewhere right between 'news time' and midnight.
Once home, there were some concerns as to the seriousness of the injury. Fearing complications due to my mom's diabetes, my sister called the insurance company's 24 hour help line for advice. The first thing out of the nurse's mouth: "Why in the world would you have an elderly woman out at this time of night?"
I'm fairly certain my mom's jaw dropped. I'm guessing she was too polite to say it to the nurse, but she likely said it loud and clear, later: "Hey! Who are you calling elderly?" I know she was offended by the remark, or at least flabbergasted. I assume the thought of being elderly has rarely crossed her mind. She often stays up quite late at night, so being out and about is not a stretch in the least. We did joke about it a bit at Christmas, as my Mom spent the evening with her leg up in the air, unable to participate in the meal preparation, etc. I think she about went stir crazy. Oh, she tried to get up and participate, but she had 50+ other people in the house holding her down, figuratively speaking, of course! I think being injured is about the only way to keep my mom down.
It is hard for me to think of Mom as elderly or old, even though at 77, she is past middle age. She just doesn't act her age! During all those times we tell our children to "Please act your age," I am sure we never stop to think about whether someday we will stop acting ours! I hope, like my mother, that I will always be young at heart.
QUOTES ON AGING
"Old age is 15 years older than I am." Oliver Wendell Holmes
"Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter." Jack Benny
"Old age isn't so bad when you consider the alternative." Maurice Chevalier" It is not the years in your life, but the life in your years that counts." Adlai Stevenson
"Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional." Unknown
"You don't stop laughing when you grow old; you grow old when you stop laughing." Unknown
"Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese. " Billie Burke
So, how do you define someone who may fit that description if you numbered their years, yet you have a hard time defining as elderly, due to the negative connotations the word often holds? I am not sure where the negative spin comes from, but many people get beyond a certain age (it is different for everyone) and they dread hearing the word 'old' in reference to themselves. Perhaps it is because the word old is often linked to things that have served their useful purpose or gone bad (old car, old shoes, old food, old house, etc.).
People of any age never outgrow their usefulnesses, while in fact, their years of living often add to their value. If the wisdom that comes with aging could be converted to money, we'd never long for anything. Even without the conversion factor, the rich blessings granted to those surrounded by the wisdom of elders is irreplaceable. Yet, the negativity factor of the word 'old' or 'elderly' sometimes sticks, especially to those of us approaching or past middle age. To make matters worse, the youthfulness of one's mind and soul are often overlooked when trapped in an aging body.
It seems all people of certain eras are lumped together, as people that will all enjoy the same activities, be in the same state of health, or have the same thoughts on matters of the mind. In my experience, this is generally not the case. In conversations with my sisters this week, I was reminded of the word elderly being used in a way that offended my dear Mother.
One of my sisters took my mother Christmas shopping this past week--Tuesday, to be exact. The weather in their area, while a little messy, was nothing like the southern part of the state. At the mention of the shopping trip in our Facebook banter, the following conversation ensues:
Sister # 1:Just got home from St. Cloud--out Christmas Shopping with Mom :) The wind is really blowin'! Not too much snow yet, but expecting more...
Sister#2:Well, glad you made it home without injury this year :)
Sister #3:Did you learn last year's lesson and get home a little earlier this year? LOL!
Sister #4:Mom's OK, they didn't stop at my house for a beer before going home, so no slippsy down my front stoop "while out late night holiday shopping" this holiday season! ;)
Sister #1: Rest assured, I held onto Mom even tighter this year! And we giggled as we walked arm in arm in the blowing snow--recalling last year's episode. Who says my Mom is elderly? She certainly doesn't believe it and neither do I!! I love her youthful spirit!Got her home by news time--no bumps or bruises and lots of shopping accomplished!
Sister #3:Our mom is a trooper--you would think all those kids, she'd be worn down, but instead, it seems to have kept her young. We are so lucky to have her!!!
Obviously, by the above conversation, there is more to this story. Here's what happended last year:
My mom and my sister (#1) went out Christmas shopping in St. Cloud. (There may have been another sister there as well, but I can't recall that detail, as I wasn't there.) They stopped off at a another sister's (#4) house for refreshments. I truly don't know if it was beer they had (as sister #4 suggests in the conversation above), but it is highly possible, as my brother-in-law is a brewer, and would rarely be without a growler on hand. On the way out of my sister's house, my mom slipped on the ice and injured her leg. I think the time was somewhere right between 'news time' and midnight.
Once home, there were some concerns as to the seriousness of the injury. Fearing complications due to my mom's diabetes, my sister called the insurance company's 24 hour help line for advice. The first thing out of the nurse's mouth: "Why in the world would you have an elderly woman out at this time of night?"
I'm fairly certain my mom's jaw dropped. I'm guessing she was too polite to say it to the nurse, but she likely said it loud and clear, later: "Hey! Who are you calling elderly?" I know she was offended by the remark, or at least flabbergasted. I assume the thought of being elderly has rarely crossed her mind. She often stays up quite late at night, so being out and about is not a stretch in the least. We did joke about it a bit at Christmas, as my Mom spent the evening with her leg up in the air, unable to participate in the meal preparation, etc. I think she about went stir crazy. Oh, she tried to get up and participate, but she had 50+ other people in the house holding her down, figuratively speaking, of course! I think being injured is about the only way to keep my mom down.
It is hard for me to think of Mom as elderly or old, even though at 77, she is past middle age. She just doesn't act her age! During all those times we tell our children to "Please act your age," I am sure we never stop to think about whether someday we will stop acting ours! I hope, like my mother, that I will always be young at heart.
QUOTES ON AGING
"Old age is 15 years older than I am." Oliver Wendell Holmes
"Age is strictly a case of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter." Jack Benny
"Old age isn't so bad when you consider the alternative." Maurice Chevalier" It is not the years in your life, but the life in your years that counts." Adlai Stevenson
"Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional." Unknown
"You don't stop laughing when you grow old; you grow old when you stop laughing." Unknown
"Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese. " Billie Burke
UP BEFORE THE BIRDS
I was up before the birds this morning--3:55 a.m. to be exact. I did not awake by choice. I awoke to the smell of smoke and a migraine. No, the house was not on fire...it was my daughter's boyfriend puffing away on his cancer sticks down in the basement, and I was smoking mad. Smoke is one of my common migraine triggers, and I am becoming more sensitive to it as I age, it seems. The smoking boyfriend is a problem I have yet to figure out! Instead of storming downstairs and handling it, I did the following:
3:55 Looked at the clock and groaned---no, more like a low, deep growl.
3:56 Dragged my bum to the kitchen for water, then dug through my purse for pain reliever and migraine prescription. Muttered the whole time about the unfairness. No desire to be assertive before 4 a.m.
4:00 Not one to fall back asleep after I have ambulated more than the minute it takes for routine middle-of-the night bathroom visits, I logged into Facebook. Played the every-four-hour bonus round of Farkle, one round of Word Drop, checked updated status/live news feed of friends and family, left a couple comments, and on to the next thing.
4:15 Played one game of Mahjong Titans on the computer, then wandered back to the internet.
4:30 Read several blogs on Area Voices, and thought about writing my own. Wandered away to my email. Distracted by some news article, I never got to the part where you actually open the emails. Started googling some family history names and places.
5:30 After several interesting reads about topics not even related to my family history, I returned to Area voices, hoping to start a blog topic. Read a few others, left some comments. Remembered that I wanted to check my email.
6:00 Returned to my email, but computer was acting crappy, so I fiddled with a few operations to try to speed it up. Sometime later, after a restart and other fiddling, I ended back up on Area Voices.
7:00 Back to Area Voices, catching up on some blog reading, I link over to one of Farside of Fifty's other blogs, Forgotten Photos. This is one of my favorite blogs, and I see she has left me a challenge, which I get right to work on. I spend about an hour and a half researching someone else's family (I wish it would be this easy to research my own family tree). I have hopefully given her some clues she can use.
9:00 Finish up with the other family's history search and leave my comments. Just as I was about to head to something else, I returned to the other family's search, as I thought of an avenue I had not yet traveled. I spent another 1/2 hour working on that.
9:30 Remember I can sign into Facebook & Farkle another bonus round. Read the scattered updates, which are limited.
9:45 Return to Area Voices to write this blog, with a few distractions in between. And, no I still haven't checked my email!
Aahh, just another day in the life of a middle aged wanderer! Wait, it's only a little after 10 AM. Oh, the day is still young...lots more paths to travel.
*disclaimer* all times approximate & all wanderings may not be listed--remember, I forget where I go sometimes (see previous blog topic).
3:55 Looked at the clock and groaned---no, more like a low, deep growl.
3:56 Dragged my bum to the kitchen for water, then dug through my purse for pain reliever and migraine prescription. Muttered the whole time about the unfairness. No desire to be assertive before 4 a.m.
4:00 Not one to fall back asleep after I have ambulated more than the minute it takes for routine middle-of-the night bathroom visits, I logged into Facebook. Played the every-four-hour bonus round of Farkle, one round of Word Drop, checked updated status/live news feed of friends and family, left a couple comments, and on to the next thing.
4:15 Played one game of Mahjong Titans on the computer, then wandered back to the internet.
4:30 Read several blogs on Area Voices, and thought about writing my own. Wandered away to my email. Distracted by some news article, I never got to the part where you actually open the emails. Started googling some family history names and places.
5:30 After several interesting reads about topics not even related to my family history, I returned to Area voices, hoping to start a blog topic. Read a few others, left some comments. Remembered that I wanted to check my email.
6:00 Returned to my email, but computer was acting crappy, so I fiddled with a few operations to try to speed it up. Sometime later, after a restart and other fiddling, I ended back up on Area Voices.
7:00 Back to Area Voices, catching up on some blog reading, I link over to one of Farside of Fifty's other blogs, Forgotten Photos. This is one of my favorite blogs, and I see she has left me a challenge, which I get right to work on. I spend about an hour and a half researching someone else's family (I wish it would be this easy to research my own family tree). I have hopefully given her some clues she can use.
9:00 Finish up with the other family's history search and leave my comments. Just as I was about to head to something else, I returned to the other family's search, as I thought of an avenue I had not yet traveled. I spent another 1/2 hour working on that.
9:30 Remember I can sign into Facebook & Farkle another bonus round. Read the scattered updates, which are limited.
9:45 Return to Area Voices to write this blog, with a few distractions in between. And, no I still haven't checked my email!
Aahh, just another day in the life of a middle aged wanderer! Wait, it's only a little after 10 AM. Oh, the day is still young...lots more paths to travel.
*disclaimer* all times approximate & all wanderings may not be listed--remember, I forget where I go sometimes (see previous blog topic).
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Keep Your Hands Off My Food!!
No, this is not about food sharing! It is about germ sharing!
CDC (Center for Disease Control) data shows poor personal hygiene of food workers is one of the leading causes of food borne illness, with the most common being Norwalk-like viruses. One very common means of spreading these viruses is when ill food workers have direct hand contact with ready to eat foods (any food that does not go through an additional cooking process, such as baked goods,fresh fruits and vegetables, salads, and sandwiches). It is estimated that about 76 million people are sickened annually, with 325,000 hospitalized and 5,000 dying from foodborne related illnesses.
A requirement of a former job a couple years ago, was to become a certified food manager. As a supervisor to people who handled food for public consumption, as well as preparing the food on occasion, I understood the importance of clean hands, sanitized food preparation areas, no bare hand contact with prepared food, and changing gloves whenever contaminated, which generally means moving from one preparation activity to another, or touching a non-food item during the time ready-to-eat food items are being prepared. As a supervisor, I had no problem correcting or reinstructing staff when they didn't follow safe food handling practices. Some employees seemed to think they only needed to follow protocol when a food inspector was on sight. Wrong!
I never became good at objecting, in person, when I see my food mishandled in public or if it is not my direct report. I have a former co-worker that would absolutely ask that her meal be remade if she witnessed any food preparation indiscretions. For instance, people preparing sandwiches at a sub shop (this applies to any food prep operation) should not be handling ingredients in a sub, then touching handles to appliances, then ringing up the order and handling the germ infested money, then moving on to the next sandwich, without changing gloves. On several occasions, in various establishments, I've witnessed servers doing just that.
I once watched as a fast food employee layered lettuce, onions, and tomatoes on a sandwich (not mine) with her bare hands. Another time, I watched the cook/server (small restaurant) place her ungloved hands on my sandwich to cut it. I recently stopped by a highly recommended hamburger joint. The food preparation area was open to customer view, and yes, there again was the cook, handling the buns and add-ons (onions, pickles, cheese, etc.) with bare hands. Unlike my co-worker, I didn't object, but quietly ate the food. I was robbed of some of the pleasure of enjoying the burger, and while it was good and I didn't get sick, I probably won't visit the restaurant again.
Another pet peeve of mine is when I order an ice cream cone. There is a reason the little paper strip covers the bottom half of the cone. A server never need to touch the cone with their bare hand, yet I am willing to bet minimally 50% of the time, at least one of the server's fingers ends up on the exposed part of the cone. I have had that happen numerous times, but I am too much of a chicken to call them out on it! Generally, the same server that hands you that cone, has handled your money, as well as that of others, and had their fingers all over the grimy cash register. Yuk!
At another place of employment, where I was not the supervsior, I witnessed kitchen staff use bare hand contact while preparing such items as sandwiches. Sometimes I reminded, other times I reported, but it seemed to continue to happen repeatedly. It drove me nuts, and even though I didn't have to eat the food, my charges did, and it was my job to make sure they stayed healthy.
Basically, the food service rule states: Bare hand contact with RTE food is not permitted unless there is no reasonable or practical alternative. If that is the case, a written plan of action must be approved.
When eating out, I always wash my hands after I order, but before I eat. If I am in a drive though situation, I keep a bottle of Purell handy to killl germs before I eat. I am far from a cleanliness fanatic, but food borne illnesses are no joking matter.
At home, I occasionally use food service gloves, especially if prepping something for a potluck, but more often than not, settle for tongs. I tend to be a little less regimented about bare food contact under my own roof, although I do wash my hands frequently during meal prep. Of course, I am not handling dirty money and other contaminated items, either.
What kinds of improper food preparations have you witnessed? Do you speak up? If you do, do you have some pointers to help this wimp out? Mainly, I just eat out less and less.
CDC (Center for Disease Control) data shows poor personal hygiene of food workers is one of the leading causes of food borne illness, with the most common being Norwalk-like viruses. One very common means of spreading these viruses is when ill food workers have direct hand contact with ready to eat foods (any food that does not go through an additional cooking process, such as baked goods,fresh fruits and vegetables, salads, and sandwiches). It is estimated that about 76 million people are sickened annually, with 325,000 hospitalized and 5,000 dying from foodborne related illnesses.
A requirement of a former job a couple years ago, was to become a certified food manager. As a supervisor to people who handled food for public consumption, as well as preparing the food on occasion, I understood the importance of clean hands, sanitized food preparation areas, no bare hand contact with prepared food, and changing gloves whenever contaminated, which generally means moving from one preparation activity to another, or touching a non-food item during the time ready-to-eat food items are being prepared. As a supervisor, I had no problem correcting or reinstructing staff when they didn't follow safe food handling practices. Some employees seemed to think they only needed to follow protocol when a food inspector was on sight. Wrong!
I never became good at objecting, in person, when I see my food mishandled in public or if it is not my direct report. I have a former co-worker that would absolutely ask that her meal be remade if she witnessed any food preparation indiscretions. For instance, people preparing sandwiches at a sub shop (this applies to any food prep operation) should not be handling ingredients in a sub, then touching handles to appliances, then ringing up the order and handling the germ infested money, then moving on to the next sandwich, without changing gloves. On several occasions, in various establishments, I've witnessed servers doing just that.
I once watched as a fast food employee layered lettuce, onions, and tomatoes on a sandwich (not mine) with her bare hands. Another time, I watched the cook/server (small restaurant) place her ungloved hands on my sandwich to cut it. I recently stopped by a highly recommended hamburger joint. The food preparation area was open to customer view, and yes, there again was the cook, handling the buns and add-ons (onions, pickles, cheese, etc.) with bare hands. Unlike my co-worker, I didn't object, but quietly ate the food. I was robbed of some of the pleasure of enjoying the burger, and while it was good and I didn't get sick, I probably won't visit the restaurant again.
Another pet peeve of mine is when I order an ice cream cone. There is a reason the little paper strip covers the bottom half of the cone. A server never need to touch the cone with their bare hand, yet I am willing to bet minimally 50% of the time, at least one of the server's fingers ends up on the exposed part of the cone. I have had that happen numerous times, but I am too much of a chicken to call them out on it! Generally, the same server that hands you that cone, has handled your money, as well as that of others, and had their fingers all over the grimy cash register. Yuk!
At another place of employment, where I was not the supervsior, I witnessed kitchen staff use bare hand contact while preparing such items as sandwiches. Sometimes I reminded, other times I reported, but it seemed to continue to happen repeatedly. It drove me nuts, and even though I didn't have to eat the food, my charges did, and it was my job to make sure they stayed healthy.
Basically, the food service rule states: Bare hand contact with RTE food is not permitted unless there is no reasonable or practical alternative. If that is the case, a written plan of action must be approved.
When eating out, I always wash my hands after I order, but before I eat. If I am in a drive though situation, I keep a bottle of Purell handy to killl germs before I eat. I am far from a cleanliness fanatic, but food borne illnesses are no joking matter.
At home, I occasionally use food service gloves, especially if prepping something for a potluck, but more often than not, settle for tongs. I tend to be a little less regimented about bare food contact under my own roof, although I do wash my hands frequently during meal prep. Of course, I am not handling dirty money and other contaminated items, either.
What kinds of improper food preparations have you witnessed? Do you speak up? If you do, do you have some pointers to help this wimp out? Mainly, I just eat out less and less.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Let The Wild Goose Chase Begin
I am off and running! It's my fingers and mind doing the running, however. Why? Let me explain.For a number of years, I have been researching my family history. I operate in the manner of the classic person with ADHD: work a little on this, then a little on that, changing direction on a whim. Every piece of historic evidence can lead me in a new direction, and while being distracted in most tasks can be disastrous, in genealogy it usually isn't, at least for me. I almost always learn something new. My goal in my latest chase is to stay on task as much as possible, however, because I just found a puzzle piece for which I've been searching for years. This one piece has allowed me to uncover a few more pieces. If I can stay on task, I might resolve some major pieces of my maternal grandfather's family history puzzle.
It all started innocently enough. Over the last few years, when I hit dead ends in searching, I have sent correspondence to parishes where I knew my ancestors were members. I have yet to get a response from any. I've been thinking a lot recently about how I have let this particular project lapse for too long. The guilt has been harboring for a while, so I wandered online in search of contact information for some of the parishes in Wisconsin and Illinois, ready to renew my search. Well, I found a gold nugget yesterday. I came across online historic records for the diocese of Belleville, Illinois.
According to most of my previous records and family lore, my great grandfather, John, was born in Wisconsin (Oct 1857), while his younger sister, Theresia, was born in Illinois (Bellville, Nov 1859). One family story states my great grandfather was born there, as well, but I have yet to find any documentation of that, plus, I have some reliable information from a Wisconsin historian that states great grandpa's oldest sister, Maria, died in Watertown, Wisconsin in February of 1859. Since I couldn't find any census records for 1860 for this family (I have searched hundreds thousands of 1860s census pages), I could never confirm the move in 1859 from Wisconsin to Illinois, although I knew they eventually moved there, as that is where my great-great grandfather enlisted in the Civil War.
After years of dead ends, I finally found the baptism record of his younger sister yesterday, proving the move, so I am pumped. I also found names of baptismal sponsors, with another possible familial connection I didn't know existed. This clue is starting to help me make sense of why this young family, in mourning, and expecting another child, may have moved from Wisconsin and the rest of their extended family to a place where there didn't previously appear to be a family connection.
It took me numerous reviews of that baptismal record to start pulling up clues. First, the priest's handwriting is not very legible, and there are some words written in German or Latin, so I had to look at the pattern of other baptism records. I think I will eventually take this over to my 3rd cousin, Bob, who is skilled in deciphering old handwriting, to be certain of the meaning of some words. Second, the priest hyphenated the baptismal sponsor's last name, and I didn't catch that until several reviews later, so I had been chasing down the wrong path for many, many hours yesterday and into today. After hitting dead end after dead end, I once again reviewed the clues, as well as other baptisms on a couple pages. I found that my ancestor’s baptismal sponsor also had a baby a few weeks later (possibly the day after the baptism of my great-great aunt), and here is where I found the possible connection, as this entry lists the sponsor’s maiden name, which appears to be the same as my great-great grandmother’s. There may be a letter that is different (nn vs hn), but this priest does not appear to have strengths in spelling or handwriting, so I am thinking that is the same name. If this is indeed a relation, it now makes sense why the baby (my great-great aunt) was named after her baptismal sponsor, although perhaps babies were named after unrelated sponsors, as well. What I don’t know is the nature of the relationship: sister, or perhaps cousin to my great-great grandmother? I will dig more.
I have now been able to come up with the list of passengers for the ship the sponsors sailed on, which arrived almost five months after my 2nd great & 3rd great grandparents (1855). Just a little off topic, if you pull up the ship record, you will note that a number of passengers died on the journey, with most of them being infants and young children. That must have been an extremely tough burden to bear. In addition to ship records, I also came across some census records for the sponsors, and death record for one. It looks as if I have plenty of material to dig through for awhile, though I am certain I will continue to chase the elusive clues (still looking for a match in the 1860s census) for some time. I have a few more family history sites to explore for continued clues and records. If there is one thing I have learned about genealogy, the clues can be few and far in between, but if you have the itch, you just can’t quit scratching. I hope to find enough information to confirm the connections between the parents and godparents of my great-great aunt. Perhaps I’ll find enough tidbits about their lives to write another chapter in the family history.
And so the chase continues! Gosh, I hope I don’t run into a dead end again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
