When I met my husband, it didn’t take me long to realize that he had some challenges with hearing. I would say he didn’t notice, but he has one ear that is better than the other and when he was trying to listen closely, he definitely would turn that ear nearer.
I don’t know how long he had been missing a lot of dialogue and sounds, but considering he had been playing loud music in different rock bands since he was a teen and attended countless loud rock concerts, had served in the military, piloted planes and never in any of these endeavors worn ear protection, it was inevitable that he would suffer hearing loss by his late 40s.
When I came into the picture, I yelled a lot and repeated things to him when we were at parties or in conversation with friends and during TV time. I became his default ears, but I started to worry. I wanted to make sure he wasn’t missing any important information for work and other situations so I gingerly brought up the idea of maybe getting him a hearing aid.
He eventually agreed and we went to this hearing aid center in the North Hills of Pittsburgh. The audiologist talked to us both and then brought out this machine that looked like it was from the 1960’s. I am not kidding you, this machine was as large as a suitcase, had buttons and knobs and was completely analog. As he checked Mitch’s hearing, it reminded me of someone trying to open a safe using touch and intuition. I think we both had doubts. Mitch told me after the appointment that his mom, who was a school nurse, had the EXACT same machine with those giant head phones. When she would bring it home, he and his sister played with it. So, that didn’t exactly give us confidence considering it was 2013.
So, we learned you have to wear two hearing aids to balance the sound and he would have to have one in each ear. The man took some kind of measurement of his ears by inserting cold, wet wax in his ear to get a mold from which to make a custom hearing aid. And in about a week, Mitch had new REALLY EXPENSIVE ears. And I do mean expensive. My first two cars did not total the cost of these new ears.
I can’t imagine what it is like to have foreign objects in your ears which run on batteries and send out high pitch squeals when dying, but he did seem to be hearing better, so I was happy.
He wore those for a while, but you could tell, he really didn’t like them and he started wearing them less and less. I started yelling more and more and would say PUT YOUR EARS IN.
At some point he looked into something more 21st century and found the hearing aid center at Costco. Now THIS was a modern fix for a common problem and they had some smaller and really cool hearing aids that he could adjust with his smartphone and these worked MUCH better. There is an APP for EVERYTHING.
Mitch was definitely hearing better; I was less frustrated and things were good. The only real concern was battery life. His ears sound an alarm really loudly then stop working when the batteries need replaced and after the first one dies, the second usually goes within an hour of the other and it is ALWAYS at the most inopportune moments of course. I carry batteries in my purse for quick changes.
Then COVID-19 hit and we had to wear masks all the time.
A few months into lockdown, one of our dogs had to go to the emergency vet. We were not allowed to go inside so had to wait in the parking lot. It was taking a long time so I left and picked up some Burger King and we ate in the grass sitting on a dog blanket.
When Bandit finally came out and we saw he was going to live, we were so relieved and took him home.
Sometime later Mitch noticed his hearing aids were gone. Oh no. We took the masks off and on during the vet visit with the doctor and nurses coming out for consultations and when he whipped off the mask during one of those times, they must have caught on the mask and went flying away. Mitch jumped in his truck and went back to look. It was getting dark by now.
An hour later he came home without those hearing aids.
Those little guys cost thousands of dollars. I was going to find them. I took the flashlight, got in my JEEP and drove back to the vet office.
Since I have met Mitch, he also needed new eyes. He has these gas permeable hard contact lenses to correct a cornea issue that Lasik surgery decades ago caused. It is AMAZING what technology has done for artificial devices to help us humans be whole or at least better as we age and our parts wear out. He has this “claw” type of device to insert them and remove them and that is a whole other story about what happened when he left the claw back home while we were travelling.
I have a bionic husband. Besides the eyes and ears, all his parts are original but trust me, if he needs a new knee or hip or whatever, I will chirp in those bionic ears to make it happen. I want him in good condition to run with me, see me, hear me and love me!
In the meantime, if any of your loved ones are having a hard time hearing you, if it is a male, first off speak in DEEP tones as the high-pitched sounds have been documented as passing right on by men’s ears. This is the TRUTH. Google it! If speaking in a lower register doesn’t get through, take him to Costco! It worked for us anyway. #canyouhearmenow #hearingaidswork #bionichusband
As I have written about before, I like to keep busy. I might even say my desire to DO things and go go GO is maybe a little OCD or ADHD or one of those maladies you hear about all the time. Perhaps it is in my DNA, but I like to DO. I’m not really good at just hanging out without a chore.
Part of my DOING nature is all the planting and growing and weeding and harvesting and preserving and then cleaning out the growing area. Then there is organizing what seeds and such are left, cleaning and storing the useful pieces to start growing again in February. The farm provides many avenues of chore and profession. One could literally never have nothing to do here.
Even though there is nothing growing on the farm in the winter, now in early December my mind is busy thinking of the next planting season. I am eagerly awaiting the seed catalogs and fussing over the remaining plants I have set up under grow lights. I am trying in mostly vain to keep fresh herbs growing in the basement along with some baby trees and such.
During the growing season I have several friends who enjoy coming to the farm and taking produce home. One friend in particular who I adore, will take one GIANT zucchini every year and several handfuls of the hot cherry peppers I grow specifically for her. She will take them all the while lamenting about all the WORK I am creating for her. Once her zucchini has been made into whatever she is making and her batch of hot sauce is done, she feels very accomplished. I tried giving her more produce later in the season and she always says NO. TOO MUCH WORK. She did come to help me when I broke my wrist though. She wanted to help pick berries but let me tell you, a berry picker this woman is not. She kept yelling over to me in my patch that she wasn’t very good at this and was so HOT. After an hour I came to see what all the fussing was about and saw about 7 berries in her container. See the blog I did about the tribulations of a professional berry picker. Picking berries is indeed a lot of work and greatly unpleasant work at that.
Another friend messaged me about a whole slew of green peppers she grew and asked what to do with them. We also talked about juicing celery and the comment came up again about all that work. This is from a friend who has 14 horses and a big family and a real job and I thought that maybe people consider the domestic tasks more work than the usual or too much to do after all those other things are done. I wonder.
Years ago, when I co-owned the hardware store with my ex-husband, I was mesmerized by this new paint the True Value paint factory was making. It was magnetic paint. Now, I had seen the chalkboard paint, but this was different. As soon as I heard about it, I thought of all the fun you could have by making walls magnetic. From early learning of the alphabet to creative artistic ways to hang teenager’s posters and more, this seemed like an AMAZING thing to me.
To help promote this paint, we arranged to have a table set up in Heinz Hall during a Sunday matinee performance of Scooby Doo. I considered this an entire audience of thousands of low hanging fruit who would be as wowed as I was and with their kids in tow. How could they NOT want to buy this paint? Boy was I wrong.
EVERY SINGLE PERSON who picked up the gallon of paint immediately put it down, said TOO MUCH WORK and squashed my naïve thoughts that this was going to be a lucrative item to sell. We transported a truck load of that paint to the home show, different schools and barely sold any. The metal in the paint to make it magnetic made each gallon weigh probably 20 pounds or more. People were not interested in lugging around gallons of super heavy paint and doing the work of painting. People usually paint when it is necessary, not just for something cool to do. Hmmmmm….. what a huge disappointment this was for me.
Are people lazy or do they believe they have a finite amount of energy and enthusiasm within them and when they have reached their perceived limit, they just shut off? I wonder.
What is work? Is walking your dog every day work? Someone recently told me when I asked about the family dog and if he is getting walked that dad said he is “too old for that.” I asked who is too old, dad or the dog? I was told dad. WOW. Dad is young and in good health. Is the act of taking the dog out regardless of heat, rain, snow or even great weather too much work? This disturbs me on so many levels.
I’m judging. I know this and honestly on the dog issue, I don’t care. If you have a dog, you have to walk the dog, EVERY DAY and more than once please. You should actually ENJOY the walking too. On the cooking and everything else, to me it comes down to the fact that I truly enjoy the domestic things and I think many people, men or women, just don’t get joy from homemaking. One of my ex-husband’s friends once said that I have always been a bit strange. I guess I am a bit DIFFERENT than many, but so what? My uniqueness has brought me so many amazing experiences. 😊 My response to calling me strange is saying, “I’m receiving what you are saying. I accept your kind gift.” I fly my freak flag all the time and proudly at that. I’ve never been accused of being ordinary or lazy! Strange is just fine!
I like to iron. This one really throws people. I like the hot steam that comes out of the iron, the creases coming out of the fabric as I apply pressure to the tool. As I iron tablecloths and napkins, I remember the meals I have served and start planning the next one. I get true satisfaction from seeing those linens all lined up waiting for their next trip to the dining room table or even the coffee table and couch if we are eating casual, which we often do. I am not a “save the good stuff for special occasions” type of girl. Use the good glasses and gramma’s china now and the good towels and soaps. And yes, create more work for yourself by having to hand wash the china and crystal but try and enjoy that work. When I am cold, nothing warms me up like handwashing dishes. Seriously.
So, after I finish this blog, I am going to make a huge batch of Fire Cider. I ordered little amber bottles yesterday and in about 2 weeks, when the fire cider is good and fermented, I will bottle all this homemade medicine and give them out for Christmas gifts to loved ones along with elderberry wellness syrup, mushroom extracts and who knows what else. I am going to call it Marsha’s COVID-19-Free elixirs or something like that.
Kathy Lee Gifford has a new book out and when she was interviewed on the Today show the other day she said, DO WHAT YOU ENJOY DOING AND FIND A WAY TO GET PAID FOR IT. I am still in the figuring out how to get paid stage, but I am certainly WORKING at all this culinary, farming and creative stuff and spending these winter days (after I hike the dogs) really learning about all the healing powers of herbs. Hopefully by next year at this time I will be a full blown certified Herbologist and will hang out my Good Witch shingle and take on clients. I will start charging for all the free advice I currently give. But in the meantime, help a sister out and buy my book for you or someone you love. The healthy recipes and no nonsense talk about good nutrition are bound to inspire you to do a little bit of new work! I hope so anyway!!! http://My Healing Cookbooklet: Recipes for Restoration and Good Health: Cassel, Marsha: 9781734711905: Amazon.com: Books
I have always been a person who likes to do more than one thing at a time. To me it has always seemed efficient. It never occurred to me that perhaps being constantly active in body and mind might be too much and not really healthy. What I mean is, in my daily life of farm, house, work, animal chores, volunteering, errands etc., my mind and body are constantly active on what I am doing and what I need to do. In the efforts to get all the things done I want to accomplish in a day, I am constantly busy. From the moment I wake up, I am on the go.
I stage items to move about the house while whisking pet hair on the floor with my foot and will scoop that up on my next trip by. I water and transplant plants, check on the gardens, harvest produce and herbs, preserve everything, clean out garden beds and endlessly weed……. Clean out the chicken house and gather eggs, water everyone and clean those containers, take out or stock canning jars in my she shed, check on the drying herbs there, then go next door to the garage and pull beef from the freezer for dinner and 100 other things that just need done. I am not alone. I am sure anyone reading this can relate to the endless “to-do’ list.
I am so far behind on my reading that I always have a stack of magazine including the latest editions of Mother Earth News or Mother Earth News Living with me in the bath. Every book and magazine I own is water logged.
For the last decade I do butt scrunches while I watch TV or drive so as to be exercising while I ‘waste” time. My mind and body never really STOP and I move around at breakneck speed. This year it caught up with me.
This year I turned 52 but honestly don’t feel any certain age. I am not sure how 52 is supposed to feel but I have tons of energy, rarely get sick and my body feels like it did in my 20s. I go to the gym 4 or 5 days a week consistently year-round, and hike my dogs for about an hour pretty much every day. I cook all of our meals from real, unprocessed food, take high quality supplements via pill or powder form every day, drink lots of water, power and care for my body by consuming herbal teas and lots of natural remedies and I try to sleep enough though at times, sleeping is difficult for me. I don’t sit for long periods of time; I move my body all day long at chores and schedule errands and volunteering for after the gym. Last year I got a pair of Traq shoes which keeps track of those steps and one day I walked over 14 miles in just normal activity. I think that is a lot. That is a little above average for me but I am on my feet A LOT. I like to joke that the only time I sit down is to go to the bathroom and eat dinner.
After all the planting was pretty much done in late June, I was getting the farm ready to host our annual Summer Solstice Party. We save our cardboard and paper refuse and burn it several times a year. I store all that on our lower back deck and wanted it all cleaned up for the party so was taking trips back and forth to the burn pile. I slipped on one of those trips and fell down injuring my right middle finger. I could bend it so splinted it and went on working. There was much to do.
Four weeks later it was still REALLY sore and I had my annual doctor’s appointment with a physician I have had for decades. She examined the finger and said it will eventually heal. Tendon/ligament damage but no bones broken. I asked about a bone density test and she said not yet. I went on my merry way.
Several hours later I was rushing around as usual and needed to retrieve some light bulbs I had stored in our pole barn. I didn’t take the time to secure the ladder and box that I stepped on to reach them properly and, on the way down lost my footing and fell backwards onto the ground with the ladder whacking me on the head. I heard a snap and felt PAIN.
I looked at my dangling right wrist and knew I had broken it. I ran into the house to my husband who was working in his office. I said I think I broke my wrist. He looked at it, ran from the room, got ice, sat me down and said we are going to the ER. I broke both bones of my right wrist and had to have surgery to repair the one and now have a plate and screws in my body.
Being a farmer, I was devastated that work as I knew it would have to STOP. This was July 23rd, a VERY busy time on the farm. For two weeks I had to lie down and do basically nothing while the gardens grew, the chicken house got pretty icky, the meals were very basic and I SLEPT. I had NEVER been able to nap in my life unless I was ill, but I couldn’t stay awake now. I made a little bed on my screened in porch with pillows and a sheet and started reading the Harry Potter books on my settee. Every day I napped for 2-3 hours and when I resumed the dog hikes VERY carefully, I had to take TWO 2-3-hour naps daily. The dogs and cats were good company as they will take every opportunity to nap and I got through 5 Harry Potter books.
After two weeks I returned to see the surgeon. They removed the cast and the doctor said I could wear a splint now. Yippee. This was much less restrictive. I had several follow up appointments and each time the doctor has been really pleased with how fast I was healing. I was on weight restriction of course but as soon as I finished the physical therapy, I could do pretty much everything! I resumed as much farm work as I was able and accepted help from friends and neighbors.
Last week, in mid-October, after my gym class I took two big boxes of gifts I needed to post. I could have taken them in one at a time but no, in usual Marsha fashion, I piled them both in my arms and was quickly walking to the door. People were exiting and considering we are living in the era of Covid-19, though everyone was masked, I moved out of the way to give them some room to pass and stepped off the sidewalk rolling my right ankle like I had never done before. Down I went like a sack of potatoes, boxes flying and I watched my ankle instantly swell. The urge to retch was really strong and I was in intense pain. At this point I cried a bit too as I was feeling like I broke my ankle this time and if that would be the case, I was REALLY screwed. A wrist was hard enough but this injury would stop the dog hikes and the massive running around the farm. I had a bit of a pity party right there on the ground.
While I was laying there with my head in my hands, one lady did stop and ask me if I was ok and in about ten minutes, the urge to vomit passed so I got up and hobbled into the post office, mailed the packages then went home. Mitch was getting ready to leave for his annual camping trip with his childhood buddies and I presented my bruised and swollen ankle to him for review. He went and got the athletic wrap, tightly wrapped it and brought me some ice and Advil, kissed me and left. The pets gathered around and looked sad. This was one day Bandit and Bubba were not getting hiked. We have 6 fenced-in acres, go walk yourselves. Mommy is possibly broken AGAIN.
So, I lay there and Googled ankle injuries and agreed it was probably a sprain. There are 3 degrees of sprained ankles I now know and I thought I was a 1 or a 2. I did not rush off to the ortho and all my friends were chastising me for this.
After the first 24 hours I pulled off the bandage and had a look. Lots of swelling and bruising but it seemed stable to walk on. 72 hours in I had my regularly scheduled final post-surgery follow up with Dr. Welker on my wrist and I asked him to look at my ankle. He examined it and said it was a sprain and if it isn’t 100% better by Thanksgiving I am to return. Ice and elevation and rest to continue and I am doing all that. As when I was newly injured on my wrist, every day during that first week, I simply HAD to nap.
Again, I am healing remarkably fast and people keep commenting on this. I am 11 days in and back at the gym.
I truly believe that all the efforts I put into taking care of myself every day of the year is to credit my fast recovery. Since I started deeply delving into growing food organically, raising chickens and bees, growing mushrooms, growing herbs for teas, tinctures and herbal extracts and exploring healthier ways of eating, I am not only preventing illness but fortifying my body so it is strong and healthy and able to concentrate on healing. I also have a grateful heart and I think that is also helpful.
I need to and am going to make a conscious effort to slow down and take my time. It won’t be easy for me, but what has happened to me in 2020 has truly scared me. I did get that bone scan and while I don’t have osteoporosis, I do have osteopenia. I already take the recommended dosages of calcium and vitamin D3 and ingest lots of collagen, magnesium and Triflex for joint support, but I need to take my speed through life below 70 MPH. I believe I am doing a really good job at caring for this body but I will be a senior citizen in three years (OMG, really?) and taking careful and slower steps are becoming necessary.
I want to become a real natural healer and expert with herbs and through attending several Mother Earth News fairs, know just the teacher I want to contact to reach that goal.
Winter is coming. The pace of life around the farm is slowing. Now is the perfect time for me to get a deeper understanding of all the medicine growing right outside under my healing ankle. #naturalmedicine #herbalremedies
For a great many reasons, the year 2020 will stand out in everyone’s minds. We don’t need to beleaguer the points about the horrors of trying to avoid and hopefully survive a world pandemic, the economic devastation, the great loss of life and restricted activities worldwide. Those are all serious things. I’m going to talk about one thing in particular that has affected me and lots of my people, the great canning supply shortage.
In March and April when things were getting locked down, I already had hundreds of peppers, eggplant, tomato and lots of herb seeds started in little four-inch pots in my indoor greenhouse which is the guest room closet all outfitted with grow lights, aluminum foil coated walls and fans. I buy all my seeds during the previous fall and winter to I can leisurely organize them, get the planting calendar all filled in and dream about where I will plant everything this year. This activity sustains me through cold winds, snow and ice.
As I am pondering the coming planting season, I usually get ideas about adding this or that to the growing and I have 3 seed purveyors that I like to buy from. When I went online in April to get a few things I was puzzled by the “out of stock” notifications on like EVERYTHING. That is when I discovered that if people are going to be home, they all of a sudden decided to put in a garden. Every store I went to, every online shop I checked out, everyone, was pretty much picked clean of every seed in America. WOW. I thought to myself, this is getting serious.
Now, if I was as smart as I think I am, I would have at that time went to a different aisle in those stores and bought all the canning supplies I would need for the season, but I didn’t. Honestly, I thought sure, people will grow some tomatoes and cucumbers and make some home cooked meals, but they are not going to go through the considerable effort to can and preserve all that produce. I was wrong.
Now because I have a great many friends who know I can, I am the grateful recipient of a large amount of quart canning jars. Throughout the past two decades, many moms and grandmas (sorry if this appears sexist) are giving up all that work and I am always pleased to take the jars. There is one friend in particular who’s mom Beverly in one giant heap pretty much filled my pole barn room with jars. Of the hundreds of jars were these really old ones with glass lids and I knew immediately that I would make bath salts with essential oils and house those in there for gifts and for sale. The older jars can’t withstand the heat and pressure of water or pressure canning, but are still great for other storage and simply beauteous.
At times over the past decades, I have attended estate sales where the folks had passed away leaving piles of jars and canning things that smell like musty old basement or barn and I have happily paid a few bucks and took them all home. I actually LOVE that stench of old, falling apart boxes that mingles with dirt and grime, mouse poop etc. It smells like HISTORY to me.
So, I always have lots of quart jars in storage ready to be filled, but I was short on jelly jars and the small mouth lids that go under the bands and make the seal to preserve the valuable contents. I like to give my dad easy jobs, so I put him on the case. I told him to call every store he could think of and find me some small mouth lids, jelly jars and any plastic reusable lids that he can find. I use those to store the dried herbs I save for teas and medicines and for the yogurt that I make for the chickens. He came up completely empty and gave me the helpful advice of next year to stock up. Uh, thanks dad.
Many years ago, when I co-owned a big True Value hardware store with my ex-husband, one of the departments I maintained and ordered for was the canning supplies. Ball jars are now made by the parent company Jardin and like many types of supplies, their glassware and bands and lids are all made at least a year in advance and there is as much as there is. I don’t know if they knew the whole world would be canning 6 months after the pandemic began so they could start new production to keep up with demand this year, but unfortunately they ran out which means all the stores they ship to also ran out. Those shelves are empty my friends but I look every time hoping against hope there will be more than an errant salsa or pickle mix on the shelf. I would bet even Megan and Harry couldn’t manifest canning supplies if the royal ones were in need.
I drove three hours to my Amish store and get some lids but there were no jars and even pectin is hard to come by this year.
I was also able to trade some wide mouth lids, which I use less frequently, and 2 jars of already made jam for some jelly jars and lids from a neighbor’s garage. That should keep me going. I am done with jelly making for the year. I still have pumpkin to can and potatoes but I should have enough for this season.
Speaking of pumpkin, I hear canned pumpkin puree in in scarce supply now too and another thing I was amazed to see gone from store shelves is tapioca and corn starch. There seemingly wasn’t one box left of anything to thicken pies and gravy. As I stepped back I saw WAY in the back on the top shelf one lonely package of Arrowroot. After I spotted it, my five-foot two body climbed up the shelves and snagged that last package. Thickeners are needed for many, many dishes and yes you can use flour, but I like tapioca for pies and cornstarch for gravy. What is everyone doing with all of that I wonder?
So, what next will be in short supply. There is once again toilet paper (the good stuff too), flour and yeast availability which is good. I have learned how to make natural yeast though and we have a terrific flour purveyor 7 miles away so I’m covered there. I should have enough canned supplies to get us through winter which is also good. I’m just wondering what else I will find astonishingly gone from shelves soon. I just hope everyone doesn’t join me on my medicinal tincture work and clear out the liquor store of Everclear grain alcohol. Maybe I better stock up now!!! You just never know.
The year 2020 has been different, odd, crazy, and full of unexpected circumstances. We started quarantining in late February, before the mandates were issued and though prior to the pandemic we were not the type of folks who go out a lot by any stretch of the imagination, we did go out occasionally. A few times a year, we would hit a karaoke bar and dined out here and there probably a couple times a month, mostly Asian food of some variety.
We truly didn’t have to alter our lives too much with this pandemic. Perhaps we already lived a bit in quarantine since we “bought the farm” in 2017. It certainly seems that way. Even with the restaurants soon going to 50% capacity, I have only dined out once since March to meet a girlfriend for some Mexican food. I just like to be home and cook and farm and it is probably safer that way though I am concerned with the fate of all the bars, restaurants, hotels and everyone being affected financially.
I am a born entertainer. Now, not in the way that I invite people over to my house and sing to them or something, (though that has happened). I like to cook for people and gather folks who don’t know each other and watch everyone engage. I especially like to watch first time guests enjoy the sights and sounds of nature at our farm and covered back deck area and watch them look around our groovy hippie house! Hospitality is my thing. It started with cooking dinner for my first boyfriend’s coworkers and friends when visiting him in Cleveland while I was still in college and has evolved to a whole experience that I like to give people. I just adore readying our house or chalet for guests, putting out linen napkins, preparing plates of all sorts of yummies and libations, lighting my oil lamps (see a previous blog on the secret of life which is also about people) asking Alexa to play something in particular that I know they will enjoy and then sitting back. I just love people.
Even during Covid, I don’t believe I have curbed my desire to talk to strangers. Usually it is ME engaging with others, but here is a story about two folks who came to me and because of them both, I am grateful and hopeful for the future.
This summer, while dining on some takeout from a favorite Thai restaurant outside the restaurant, a really BIG young man came up to talk to Mitch and me. He had just eaten his takeout in the car and came to speak with us, telling us he was kind of new to Pittsburgh and wanted to meet some people. So, we had Bryan over to the farm for dinner the very next day and when I broke my wrist, he volunteered to help out in any way. Soon Bryan returned to the farm with a lady friend and they helped Mitch work on a fencing project while I cooked and healed. I feel very certain we have made a lifelong friend. Coach BAM is so awesome!
Jaya is a young woman who would talk with me while checking out my purchases at Tractor Supply. Every time I came in there, you could see her smiling under her mask and she was always so sweet. We would chat briefly and she seemed so interested in the farm that I gave her a business card and told her to contact me. Now, I meet tons of people and have passed out hundreds of cards at supermarkets, gas stations, the post office, etc., and very rarely people contact me. If they do it is usually a man and honestly, he isn’t interested in my cooking, my honey or my blogs. I find many people puzzling, but Jaya took me up on my offer and sent me an email, started reading my blogs and soon we had her over to the farm. I had no idea it would be an hour drive for her to get to us, but she didn’t seem to mind.
During her first visit, I wasn’t sure how old she was and told Mitch, a young lady is coming to the farm. She could have been 16 or 21 and of course that didn’t matter. I just had no idea honestly. Well, Jaya is a 20 year old artist and studying to be an art teacher. She is beautiful, kind, smart and such a talented painter. She seems interested in learning everything I can teach her!
We talked and talked and ate a bit but mostly talked and I began thinking as I watched her, this is the daughter I never had. Conveniently, she could use a local mother figure too so visits with Jaya are just THE BEST. I have taken her hiking, shopping and exploring Pittsburgh, we have painted together, we have had her and her boyfriend (who is an amazing guy in his own right) over for dinner and I can’t wait till the next time we get together. I have so many ideas!!!!! This is going to be a lifetime of fun and I am hoping opportunities to offer advice, help out in ways she may need and be a maternal figure to this amazing young woman.
Because I could also use a mother figure, I will leave you with one more new friend story from the Covid-19 era in my life.
I had my first ever surgery right before the lockdown in early March and the nurse Molly who cared for me while I was being prepped was just so sweet. She saw I had brought a copy of Mother Earth News and a Better Nutrition magazine to read and before they wheeled me in, she wrote her mother’s name and phone number on my MEN magazine and told me her mother and I are two peas in a pod, to CALL HER. So, I did.
We had one chat on the phone then started emailing and we became pen pals. I have never before and may never again meet a woman who has all the same interests that I do. Heck, she even grows elderberries and when we finally did meet in August, after 5 months of sharing farm successes and failures, and talking bees and healthy herbs and foods and husbands, I just knew that she was my soul sister. I mean, SHE GAVE ME 2 GALLONS OF ELDERBERRIES (see previous blog on the trials and tribulations of a professional berry picker) and has bees living in the WALLS OF HER HOUSE that she will not harm. I am working on a way to have them move themselves to a new spot that is a bit more convenient for both her and the bees. That day, we exchanged many handmade and home-made things and she has inspired me to work with colloidal silver. Stay tuned for more on that.
We have been to England to visit a man we met eating a chicken wrap and drinking a Guinness at Quaker Steak and Lube, 300 feet from where we met Bryan. I have made friends with Russians and Bulgarians and folks from other cool places by just saying hello.
You can wear a mask and still not shut yourself off from meeting new people. I challenge you to open up yourself and you never know who will come on in and move into your heart! I’d love to hear about those encounters. Write me, call me, text me… #secretoflifeispeople #putyourselfoutthere #makenewfriends #betheinspiration
Earlier this month I was asked to help work the polls during my state’s primary election day. Two of my neighbors who I also know from my women’s only gym have been working the polls alongside a small group of other women for decades now and I was honored to be asked to join them. In all honesty I had always admired the folks who “man” the polls during elections. I often wondered what that job was like. So, I said yes with no questions asked and showed up at 6 am with a soft packed cooler of food and drink and a book. I figured there would be some downtime during the day and I always like to have with me a book I am reading and a pile of magazines I am behind on reading.
I had voted several times in the three years we have lived in Hopewell Township and had casually seen the whole setup in the township building, but now I was going to experience every minute of it.
There were new voting machines to be put into operation and since this was during the whole Covid-19 global pandemic situation, new protocols were in place to keep the community safe during the voting process. We had tape to place 6 feet apart on the floor for people to wait in line, lots of hand sanitizer and wipes for the machines to set out, cotton swabs for people to use to sign their names and also choose their selections on the machines. There were signs to put up everywhere. Mrs. Black was in charge and this is a charming woman in her 80s and I was amazed at her energy. We did what we were told and at 7 am we were ready and opened the polls.
We had an armed constable to keep the peace I guess and a parade of residents came in throughout the day. There were plenty of farmers fresh from the fields, several mechanics in uniform and covered with grease, families showing their young children and grandkids about the whole democratic voting process, couples, singles and people of all shapes, sizes and ages. What I did notice and I had already figured this out from living in this community, we didn’t have anyone of color come to vote. We live in a rural community where there isn’t a lot of diversity. It isn’t an issue, it just is.
I bring up diversity because at this time there were lots of protests, demonstrations and rioting happening in large and small cities around the country due to a recent horrible incident involving Minneapolis police officers and an African American man, but there wasn’t even a mention of any of those things here. This reminded me of a Norman Rockwell idyllic drawing of peaceful, caring people coming to cast their vote and visit with their neighbors and friends.
I loved seeing people gathering several feet apart but talking about and celebrating babies being born, showing concern for those who are ill or passed away, passing on information about who might need some assistance and help and everything in between. Many people were discussing the economic issues facing our local businesses. Many people’s businesses had been on a mandatory shutdown and we were all feeling the effects of living a smaller, closed-in life. I was so pleased to meet many new folks and do some networking.
In the 14- and one-half hours that I worked the polls, there wasn’t one incident of anything even remotely upsetting or stressful. Yes, we had some blips with people not showing up on the record and one ballot wouldn’t feed into the machine, but all those minor and few issues were resolved and in addition to the previous mail-in ballots, we had a showing of less than 150 bodies come and cast votes. I learned the we had 600 registered voters in Hopewell Township and I was surprised at finding out who was and was not registered. I have always felt voting is an important responsibility.
In amazing and unexpected news, I was paid! When my friend Minna, who recruited me, announced I had paperwork to complete so I could get paid, I said, “I am getting paid?” Honestly, that had never occurred to me. I thought this was going to be yet another thing someone asks me to do that is a volunteer thing. Happy day! 😊 So, leaving the farm for an entire day was going to put a little jingle in my pocket. Cool.
There were plastic cards we gave everyone as they signed in and they were not surprisingly red and blue so everyone knew who everyone was voting for and in the primary, you could not do any straight party votes nor vote for the other team. It didn’t matter who you cast your vote for, there wasn’t any discussion, argument or anything. People voted and either ran out to continue the rest of the lives or hung out a bit to catch up with neighbors. I loved every minute of it.
When Shirley’s husband of more than 60 years I believe came in, seeing her get so excited and tell us all that her heartthrob was here, just tickled me. I was also excited when my husband came in and I had told the girls to prepare for long rock star hair on him. Since this was near the end of lockdown for hair salons, everyone came in with 3 months of roots and unkempt hair unless they were able to take care of those grooming issues themselves. Again, no one cared about any of that. Everyone was here to do their civic duty.
By the end of the day, we were all tired and even my usual perkiness was wearing off. The last resident came in at 7:58 pm to vote. Then we took down all the signs, packed away all the supplies, printed out the final voting tally, locked up all the machines, gathered all the important paperwork, signed off on everything and went home. I am really happy that I participated in this and was asked to come back in November so I guess I did a good job. Now, I can say that I am one of those people I admired who worked the polls and I was pleased to do it.
I also admired those women who run around in gym clothes carrying yoga mats and water bottles and look sweaty, fit and contented. I’m one of those gals too and look forward to seeing all my sisters from the voting booth at the gym now that this is again a place we can go!!!
I love that I have a community of supportive and active women who do all sorts of things, are so much to so many and are there for each other.
Who knows what adventure awaits me next but I’m looking forward to learning and doing it whatever it is! Bring it on!
When I was probably 4 years old, my gramma lived on a mountain in a heavily wooded area about an hour from where I have my farm now. This was in Elco, Pennsylvania, a very small and rural town. She lived with my grandfather and aunt and her kids and they lived rather primitively. For at least a while when my father drove and deposited the trailer on the land they purchased, there was no indoor plumbing from what I remember. Until the trailer was dropped, there was an OLD outhouse for doing your business near an old shed and a nearby spring to gather water. My cousins and I would fill gallons of plastic jugs with the water and carry it back to her trailer. We made a lot of trips back and forth.
At that time, I remember going to the general store in town and she purchased a bunch of peeps. Looking back on it now, I don’t understand why they weren’t put into a fenced in area at that time, but I remember chasing around a little peep trying to catch her and it having a heart attack and dying. In my memory, it sort of exploded which was traumatic and my first memory of chickens. but this story is about berries, so we won’t have any more dying chickens here. It is just a memory I have of the same time period I am describing so wanted to share that.
On that mountain I was taught to pick blackberries with both hands and carried a container that must have been tied to me. I just loved picking the warm, ripe berries and after we were done with the picking, we would get a bowl of berries topped with sugar and milk. It was the most delicious treat.
I would watch my gramma make pie crust from butter and flour and she baked many blackberry pies and made jam and jelly.
On this mountain there were probably more than a hundred acres of beautiful land and the woods were filled with blackberry bushes. We could wander anywhere we wanted. There were no neighbors, only a gun club at the top of the hill, but no one there ever seemed to notice or be bothered by us as we were playing on the rocks and picking berries.
Because blackberries have very harsh thorns, or jaggers as we call them in our part of Pennsylvania, we had to be fully covered with long sleeves and pants while picking despite the humid summer temperatures. I would always get a lot of scratches on my hands and face but I never remember suffering from poison ivy as a child. That change to my tolerance happened in my late 20s. I had moved to Ben Avon and found a walking trail where I took my dogs and I was delighted to find blackberries.
The heat, mosquito bites, poison ivy and scratches are a small price to pay for all this free food though and to this day I feel that exact same way. Despite having to get Prednisone every year at least once, if I see ripe, wild berries growing somewhere, I WILL submerge myself into the thicket come what may!
I have been known to get out of the car while waiting in traffic to get into Star Lake Amphitheater in Burgettstown and yes, I know it isn’t called that any more. If you are local to Pittsburgh and over 35, you know where I am writing about!!!!
Anyway, along route 50, the back way into that place, I have left the car, grabbed a plastic bag that inevitably would be under the seat for potential dog poop needs and go pick berries until we were moving again. I have been golfing a few times too and inevitably there are wild blackberries growing along the wooded areas and I have stopped and pick some then too. I just can’t help myself.
Don’t even get me started about visiting my family in Bellingham Washington. They have bike trails EVERYWHERE and bordering all those MILES and MILES of trails are the most giant blackberries I have ever seen. They are a different varietal than we have here in PA and apparently are a nuisance there because they are so prolific, can you believe it? The first time I saw them I thought, I need pickers! I need to move here and hire pickers. No one wants for blackberries in that beautiful place and probably never has to buy one single berry.
I am pretty sure I blogged about the yellowjackets that I stepped on while picking berries on my grandma’s mountain when I was about 9 years old. I didn’t know they lived in the ground and as I stepped on them, they attacked me and I panicked and kept jumping up and down on their nest and aggravating them. 30 stings later I enjoyed my bowl of berries, milk and sugar once I calmed down and didn’t die from all those stings. Today, I carry an EpiPen with me as I am also now allergic to bees, yellowjackets and mixed vespids. I’m still picking berries and keeping bees though. Those are some of the more severe and dangerous trials and tribulations that I meant in the title!
Over the years I have picked millions of blackberries, tens of thousands of black raspberries and now I am on a huge elderberry kick.
Back on that mountain there were some elderberries, but I don’t remember there being a plethora of them. I remember grandma making some elderberry pies and jams but not too much. The taste was different than a blackberry for sure and they were so rich and PURPLE. I did like them but largely I forgot about them for decades.
Anytime I am hiking the dogs in a new place, I am always looking for more blackberries and was thrilled to see so many wild dormant berry bushes when we first looked at the farm. I could certainly recognize those bushes even in winter. The previous owner also showed me the berries he had planted. In addition to a row of dilapidated grapes, there was one elderberry bush, two gooseberries and some honeyberries. I had never heard of, seen nor tasted gooseberries or honeyberries but I was thrilled to be the new owner of such interesting and unique berries. Turns out, honeyberries are similar to a small blueberry and the gooseberries are unlike anything I had ever experienced. I will say when you pluck them from the bush, they come off with a small stem that needs removed before you do anything with them so those are a bit of a pain to actually use in any capacity, but I still enjoy them.
Last fall, I was visiting a friend up near our cabin. This woman and her husband are true lovers of everything green. They have a nursery at their home and sell tons of starter plants of all kinds.
I told them I was looking for more elderberry as my Mother Earth News magazine and the annual fair we attend had gotten me interested in making healing elderberry wellness syrup. I decided to do that, I needed more bushes. Why buy berries when you can grow your own, right?
They sold me one small plant and told me about a wild bush about 5 miles away right on the main road. I was excited and immediately got my berry picking gear and went searching. After some scouting, I did see them and the bush was COVERED with clusters of wild elderberries but they were probably 8 to 10 feet high and a few feet into the woods with no clear path to get to them. I knew it would be impossible to get them so left them for the birds.
Back in my younger days, I would have considered somehow catapulting myself to get to the center of the berries, but I am over 50 now and decided I better not. If you have ever been deep into the woods where I find myself pretty much daily, you’ll know it is tricky getting through all those ‘jaggers” and all kinds of old thorny trees to get to the good stuff. Nowadays, I also have to diligently look for poison ivy too and there are ticks EVERYWHERE and all matter of tangled trees, vines and whatnot grabbing at you. Picking wild berries is definitely not for the faint of heart and you better not be afraid of spiders or their webs. So many varieties of nature’s beings are trying to trip you up and the birds do not like you stealing their sustenance, so 40 + years of berry picking has resulted in all kinds of injuries, stings, bites and various booboos. As I said earlier though, these are FREE and gifts from God, so I just plow through literally, to get to those giant luscious berries, but I TRY to be careful!!!! I’m tough or crazy or a little of both!
Anyway, seeing those wild elderberries lit a fire in my belly and I decided I needed to stop focusing on blackberries and see if I could find some wild elderberry bushes near the farm. I mean, there must be some. So, back home I took a really good gander and found 3 or 4. I was excited. I have no idea how I hadn’t seen them before. One was smack dab in the middle of a really good blackberry patch and 3 were planted around this old pony barn that is falling down. The whole thing needs torn down and eventually we will get to that but for now, I could see some decent bushes and I was so excited.
Then as I started to really recognize what the bark and the leaves looked like, I found one more. This one was near the pond and covered on all sides by some really thick thorny bushes, but I figured, I could cut my way to it to harvest. I was motivated.
I showed Mitch all of these telling him that as he is clearing some old crap around the farm, he is never to touch these. To me, these were like the fabled unicorn, something magical and I was beyond blessed to have found these.
Well, 3 weeks ago, Mitch went up to the pony barn to tear down the one part that was really falling down and while I did momentarily think I should remind him about the elderberries, I honestly never thought he would touch them. I knew where he was going to be working with the backhoe and thought, only one was in the way and I was pretty emphatic when I gave the instruction to leave them. Spoiler alert! My next blog is going to be called Can You Hear Me Now and deal with Mitch’s significant hearing loss. But suffice it to say, when I went up the hill to see what he had done, I almost cried. I could not believe he had mowed down 3 beautiful bushes. I went running back down to tell him what he did and I knew he felt terrible but I was so MAD and hurt that those things that were so important to me, he just didn’t see them. Metaphor for larger things? Maybe, but maybe not. I took my snips and went back up to try and salvage pieces. I was going to attempt to root them and make a whole slew of new bushes from those. I was also able to pull the old roots out of two of them and Mitch helped me pot all the pieces and parts. They are now in various stages of either dying or surviving and I told them that I will keep them in those pots until next spring and keep them under the grow lights and tend to them every day through winter if they will just PLEASE DON’T DIE. We will see how all that goes. I read a bunch of articles online and am hopeful at least some of them will take.
In the meantime, I started clearing a big area opposite our house. It is still early spring and it will be easier to do this now than in summer and I needed something to do while the seedlings grow. Outside work is still my favorite and though it has been largely chilly, we have had some decent weather days.
As I was clearing, I was struck by a few long stems with leaves that were emerging and looked so familiar. Could it be? Was this an elderberry? I went up to the one planted in the grape field and compared them. My heart started beating fast. I thought YES. So, I then opened my eyes and kept clearing and low and behold, I uncovered more than a dozen elderberry bushes in this area from a few feet to taller and with many shoots like they had been here for YEARS!!!! At this early spring stage, there is not much growing yet so they truly stood out like a sore thumb. Now that I WAS LOOKING for them, I could see what I had been missing. I put little fluorescent flags at the base of each one and Mitch cleared out several old and gnarly trees that were blocking the sun from them and over the past two weeks, we have really cleaned up Elderberry Grove. Mitch is forgiven and I told him maybe everything does happen for a reason. If he hadn’t chopped those ones down by the pony barn, I wouldn’t have really looked at those plants in early spring and known what to look for. Now, I am finding some more small ones here and there in the woods and marking each one so I can measure their growth and planning my new elderberry business. I can’t wait to blog about the mountains of berries I will be picking. Good times are coming!!! #berrypicker #farmlady #wildforallberries
I have had sleeping problems since I was a young girl. As my parents were getting divorced, my mother moved us to Squirrel Hill from Ambridge. We shared a one bedroom apartment in a place that wouldn’t accept children, but they made an exception for me if I would be quiet.
This was in the middle of first grade. I was in a strange place. I didn’t know anyone and felt completely insecure about everything. I was having separation anxiety at school and at night I started sleepwalking. When I awoke, I was going through some sort of emotional and mental breakdown that I can’t even accurately explain except my mind was racing and I had this oppressive feeling that I was so far behind and had to start over again which felt daunting. I couldn’t even explain what I had to start over, but it was the worst feeling in the world and it happened night after night after night. I didn’t even want to go to sleep. IT WAS HORRIBLE and really frightening and I was 7 years old.
Eventually, I settled in to my new life and more or less normal sleep resumed.
As I grew though, in times of turmoil and great stress, I would experience problems sleeping and excess worry which I now know as anxiety. I believe I was conditioned to worry by my mother. She had a lot of coping problems. Internalizing stress just became my natural response. To this day, I still let things bother me and can really work myself up into a tizzy. I have always been this way.
In my early 30s, I had undiagnosed health issues and this triggered a lot of anxiety and insomnia. I called this the Circle of YUCK and this period was a very dark time. I felt physically horrible, couldn’t eat or sleep, dropped pounds and mentally felt generally full of gloom and doom.
Doctor visits and testing didn’t seem to be coming up with anything wrong. I ended up seeing an endocrinologist who did a bunch of hormone tests on me and decided I had REALLY high levels of cortisol in my body. I remember sitting in her office and crying. I was so exhausted and just felt horrible. She gave me a script for 30 MG of Temazepam and told me to take it before bed. This was prior to GOOGLE so I couldn’t do what I would do now and research the heck out of Cortisol and the medicine. I filled the script, took it before bed and slept like I maybe had never in my whole life. It was AMAZING. I thought see what ample sleep will do for you? I was a new woman!!!!!
She had given me a form of VALIUM, so no wonder I felt rejuvenated and was able to sleep. My whole mind and body just relaxed so I slept.
On my next visit to her she asked how I was sleeping. I stupidly told her that my husband could pick me up and move me into a whole other room and I wouldn’t wake up and she said well, that’s not good and immediately dropped the refill to 15 mg. NOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
To this day, I don’t know what if anything was wrong with me physically at that time, but my mental status of heightened anxiety had totally affected by body and I was making myself sick with worry. I wasn’t particularly happy in my life and it affected my body and soul.
Some years later I was experiencing a bunch of changes at once or in quick succession. My mother was causing severe problems for me which again I am not ready to write about, but it was a very stressful period. My husband and I had borrowed money from everyone we could and mortgaged everything we owned to buy our own business and had been successfully running that for a few years. I had given up my career to help run the business. We were working pretty much nonstop.
Our dog Carly had died, (see previous blog about Wo”Man’s Best Friend) and soon after, the cats that I had for 16 and 17 years also crossed the rainbow bridge. All those losses affected me.
We had moved to The Cork Factory (not my idea), which was the very first high-end rental apartment complex project in the Strip District. That top floor 1000 square foot loft apartment with 17-foot-high ceilings of useless vertical space, one closet and an electric cooking stove cost as much as our first and second mortgage on our house that we still had not sold. I was VERY concerned about money or the lack of it. All of that sent me into what can only be termed as close to a nervous breakdown.
I was freaking out. I had a very heightened sense of anxiety 24 hours a day. I could never come down to a feeling of normal. I couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours at night and I could barely function. This went on for 6 months. I thought my adrenal glands might overwork and I wasn’t sure what that could lead to. I worried about having a stroke or heart attack. I WAS A MESS. If I could manage to fall asleep, I would wake up minutes later with what I describe as heart rushes. I guess they are panic attacks. Whatever they are, they prohibited me getting any rest. I was a walking nervous zombie who was a mere shell of myself.
My PC physician was not helpful and eventually I ended up seeing a psychiatrist. Filling out that paperwork to just see him sent me into feeling panic. It talked about involuntary hospitalizations and such which added a new level to the anxiety I constantly felt but thankfully, he knew what he was doing and after a bunch of written tests and a 60-minute appointment, he quickly diagnosed me as suffering from General Anxiety Disorder with slight depression. In the beginning, he put me back on that magical Temazepam that I mentioned had helped me sleep years before and prescribed a little 10 MG pill named Celexa or generically, Citalopram.
At the same time, Anna Nicole Smith died and I read her list of medications and immediately became worried that I would end up that way. I know, that is completely irrational but that is where I was mentally. I was assured by my therapist, that would not happen to me. She instructed me to take my medication, see her at therapy weekly and check in personally on how I was feeling and promised within a few weeks, I would feel like me again. And I DID and it was the STRONG, CAPABLE me, not the weak, frightened and anxious me. It was such a huge relief and after I felt normal again, I made some real changes in my life.
Fast forward to more than 13 years later.
In the COVID-19 environment that we are collectively as a world living in, perhaps we are all experiencing real anxiety and the news is full of stories about just that.
I have been talking with my friends and everyone agrees we ARE feeling way more stress and frequent anxiety. We have absolutely no control over this situation that worldwide we find ourselves in. How long will everyone be staying home, perhaps not working at all or certainly not working out in the world, not attending gyms and dance classes, school, social gatherings of any sort, religious events, graduations, weddings, funerals or anything?
In this time of social isolation, I have looked into meditations and most recently brain reprogramming because as the psychiatrist said years ago, it will happen again and it is. Now, I am not feeling even 1/4 of the level of anxiety I was back then, but I can recognize the signs and symptoms and do NOT want to return to that place.
My sleep has been affected for the last several years but now again it seems to becoming a real problem. The heart rushes are back which make it impossible to take naps or sleep deeply and I’m feeling more worried than usual. So, I made an appointment to see my good PC and will most likely ask for meds. It is going to take a while to see her though and with the added risk of going TO a doctor’s office amidst the virus, I’m seeking ways to help myself.
I truly am interested in reprogramming my brain to function better so once and for all I can deal with stressful situations in a way that won’t send me into a panic. I have a friend who had brain damage caused by Lyme’s Disease and she recommended I check out www.neuromeditation.com. On quick glance this looks like a really cool site. I have been doing some guided meditations and working on changing my mindset to think positively that this situation will end and a new normal life will come sooner rather than later.
My husband has taken this “down” time to delve deeper into his guitar practice and came across www.GuitarAcceleration.com. The man who came up with this is also apparently touting reprogramming of the brain and I am learning some really cool ideas about increasing brain myelin which should help in all sorts of ways. Seriously Google myelin.
Checking out those new learning strategies led my husband to researching The Vagus nerve and this is REALLY interesting stuff. He brought it to me thinking learning about it and changing my breathing could help. I had never heard of this until he mentioned it a few days ago and then boom, on the TODAY Show, they had a whole segment about it. See, EVERYONE is feeling anxious and looking for relief.
We have all heard that a certain type of breathing can slow the heart rate and calm us, well it is true and you can train your sympathetic nervous system to work differently to diffuse anxiety and promote a more relaxed state.
So, I have many new ideas to learn about and test on myself while I am staying home like we all should and I really hope we come out of this on the other side, survivors and more healthy in mind, spirit and soul. I’m certainly going to try!!! #conqueranxiety #learnnewthings #calmyourselfdown
That is the title of a 1997 song from REM. I miss that band. I have some time now so maybe I’ll Google what has been happening with them. We all probably have more time now. It’s odd, isn’t it?
Usually we humans are rushing about getting ourselves and our family members to all the scheduled and overscheduled obligations with which we fill our lives. And now, we are not.
While the world is experiencing a pandemic of COVID-19, we are ceasing all outside group activities, are stocking up on food and toilet paper and cleaning products and being told by our government leaders to stay home. People who can are working from home. Social gatherings are being postponed or cancelled and only really essential businesses are remaining open. Everything else is shutting down. It is a scary situation but hopefully temporary.
No one knows what is going to happen. This is definitely unprecedented in the modern world.
I’ve done some research recently on the flu epidemic in 1918, and as everyone else who has internet access, I have an unlimited supply of articles to read. Here is what I learned from Wikipedia.
The Spanish flu infected 500 million people around the world, or about 27% of the world population of between 1.8 and 1.9 billion. The death toll is estimated to have been anywhere from 17 million to 50 million, and possibly as high as 100 million, making it one of the deadliest epidemics in human history.
Most people have passed away who lived to experience that pandemic. The last many generations have never seen anything like this, so therefore, may not be taking the protocols seriously.
In 1918, people weren’t travelling like we do now, or did until recently anyway, so I worry that if this really does become serious, we could have staggering loss of life.
Knowledge is power, but in this instance, I think it would be wise to STOP Googling things around the virus or watching news stories and just shut off the devices. Instead, get back to the pastimes of the predigital age. Read books, write poems, songs or stories, do crossword puzzles, play boardgames, exercise in your house by doing sit-ups and pushups, pull out the vinyl records and show your kids the amazing album covers and music of your youth, do some arts and crafts projects, learn a new skill and by all means, avoid human contact as much as possible.
All of the professional speakers I know have had events cancelled or postponed through April 2020, and few groups are booking events for the foreseeable future either. In just this one industry, think of the repercussions and lost business. Commerce in that sense has STOPPED for everyone.
Many people we know work at or own retail stores and gyms, work in restaurants and bars or provide non-healthcare services of many types and those businesses are not operational right now. There is a real fear about making money to pay bills, but most of us are all collectively in the same boat.
The government is trying to stave off total economic panic by lowering interest rates, halting trading and implementing other things to try to stabilize the wildly fluctuating markets and economy. I guess it would be a good time to refinance a mortgage, but I think we will just wait things out and see what happens. We truly aren’t “buying” anything right now, and we most certainly are not checking on retirement account values.
We are very lucky, and many say smart, to have left the city and bought our farm three years ago We have been implementing homesteading techniques and learning to live simply which requires a lot of physical work and planning.
At this time of year, I would always be tapping maple trees and making syrup, starting all the pepper, peas, eggplant, rhubarb seeds and also many lettuces and herbs. I will say depending on what actually happens in the world, I will be planting WAY more vegetables than I usually do. I have the greenhouse ready to grow many more varieties of vegetables, and we have some ideas about adding other crops as well. I am also taking really good care of my chickens as they give us eggs. I bought a ton of locally grown and milled ancient grain flours and yeast to make bread.
We were talking last night about putting the freeze dryer back into operation again and making a lot of dog and cat treats from chicken and cuts of beef. We can also freezedry food for ourselves, which we haven’t done in a while.
As long as things don’t really go crazy and we maintain electric service, we should be okay because we are pretty self-sufficient out here, but, electric is really important and hard to do without. I made sure all the flashlights and oil lamps are loaded with fresh batteries and oil, and yes, we did some target practice this past weekend.
Am I getting paranoid worrying about everything that could happen during a complete social and economic breakdown and apocalypse? I am an avid horror fiction reader and show watcher, so have seen in make believe what happens to cultures when we have some sort of massive shift change. I worry about the what-ifs. It is my nature.
I worry about our friends and family in densely populated areas. People who live in crowded urban areas can’t easily escape masses of humans and the germs we can transmit.
I have German relatives and we have been Direct Messaging daily going over the latest developments in our respective countries. Everyone is self-isolating. Worldwide, schools are at least temporarily educating students online and people are practicing lots of healthy habits that honestly we should have been doing all along.
Being the daughter of a nurse, it was drilled into my head as a child to NEVER TOUCH YOUR FACE, wash your hands as soon as you enter from the outside and be as clean as possible with your personal hygiene and belongings.
I am lucky that I don’t anymore work in an office environment or a retail store. I have worked in both types of places and definitely had more illnesses when I had greater exposure to humans, no matter how many times I washed my hands. Germs are spread through the air and human contact, so this social distancing we are hopefully all practicing for two weeks or longer should help stop the widespread travelling of this virus. We have to protect ourselves and others, especially the elderly and immunity-challenged/compromised.
Yes, life has changed, and no matter what happens with this virus, whether we have mass casualties worldwide or the majority are spared with these good practices and healthy immune systems, our awareness about our fragility has changed and will be forever etched into our psyche. After this is over, I do not believe humans will as carefreely bebop around the planet without considering what we and others could be carrying around and giving to one another and what our actions do to each other. I think there will be a heavy layer of innocence lost and that is not necessarily a bad thing. I think we take for granted our 21st century healthcare and our ability to source everything we need quickly. I wonder if we truly appreciate our democratic society that provides a nice place for us with pretty much all the goods and services that we need to survive.
I think that as we all together face the unknown and the loss of income and personal freedom, the suspension of socializing for any reasons; weddings, funerals, sporting events, music and dance recitals, charity fundraisers etc., that we may gain a greater respect for what is truly important.
I think this could be a good opportunity to learn and practice
more empathy, more caring, more kindness, understanding and compassion and gratefulness
for what we do have even now.
Hopefully we will come out of this on the other side better people and stronger for the next pandemic that will eventually come. I hope our world scientists find a vaccine and life returns to normal soon.
God bless us all. #grateful #helpothers #wewillsurvive
As we grow and develop into hopefully fully functioning humans,
we most likely had a little help and guidance along the way.
Recently, I was thinking about people who took an interest
in me and I immediately thought of three important people that definitely made
a positive difference in my life.
I want to thank them.
When I was 14, I took tennis in gym class and started
hitting balls around. I really liked the
sport. When I was a small girl, I used
to watch my mother hit tennis balls against a wall in Leetsdale and one day
while she was doing this and I was walking along the broken fence passing the time,
I slipped and got my ankle caught in the steel that was disconnected at the bottom. That was my first stitches experience and
trip back up the hill to Sewickley Valley Hospital where I was born and it was horrible. I
still vividly recall the whole ordeal.
Anyway, fast forward 9 or 10 years and I bought a cheap used
tennis racket at the thrift store and started hitting my own balls against any flat
wall I could find.
My mother was the kind of woman who really wanted to be involved in everything that I did so we would go to my high school and hit balls pretty much every day on one of the four hard courts.
One day, an old man with no teeth wearing a thin white t-shirt, raggedy shorts and really thin flipflops came up to us on the court and told me to work on my second serve first. I didn’t even know what that was.
His name was George Koernich and that may not even be the
correct spelling of his last name, but he will forever remain in my heart.
George was the kind of man who most likely played in all
whites with the Rod Laver crew back in the long pants history of tennis. He knew what he was doing for sure. That summer he spent tireless hours with me
teaching me everything about tennis. My
mother scraped up some money to buy me a new wooden Tracy Austin tennis racket
at K-mart and I played the hell out of that racket. I probably played 5 hours every day that
summer learning everything I could and I loved it.
I remember George bringing dozens of old balls from home that
didn’t have any bounce left and we served hundreds and hundreds of balls with
those. They still had life for that!
He taught me how to slice the serve and return a slice, explained
and showed me how to deal with topspin, taught me defensive moves like how to lob,
play the net with volleys and really gave me appreciation for the game.
At the time, Chris Evert was being usurped by powerhouse
Martina Navratilova and I watched every match that I could, read every tennis
magazine the school and local Laughlin Memorial library had in its archives and
really did nothing but learn and play.
I will say that the local players were never kind nor helpful or encouraging to me, him or us but I’m guessing they watched the progress.
With George’s help I made the tennis team that first year and
he and I even ended up entering some regional tournaments playing mixed doubles
which yes he played in old flipflops.
George was one of a kind. He tapped
maple trees and brought me the water to drink and it was delicious. Every time I put a tap in I think of George!
I ended up quitting the tennis team soon after I started my first job at the Brighton Hot Dog Shoppe at age 16. The coach was not understanding that I HAD to work to help my mom so I quit the team. Priorities! 😊
Enter mentor number two, Andy Amygdalos. Andy was an amazing man who passed away a few
years ago. Years later Andy told me that
when I came in and filled out the application he thought I wasn’t going to be
able to hack it. He didn’t know about my
tennis muscles!!! I could lift those 50
pound buckets of chili and haul boxes of meat no problem! It ended up being that I became his favorite
and best employee of all time or so he told me. I stayed there with Andy for 7 years.
I have blogged about that first job before but I didn’t say
much. Today I want to share tales about
a man who was more of a father to me than my own and I loved him.
Andy had come from Greece and had loaned fellow Greek, Lou Pappan, money so he could open Pappan’s restaurant, which became a very successful Beaver County chain. I know the fact that Andy worked tirelessly and hard for DECADES for can I say it, (a jerk) that he could have ROCKED his own restaurant no issue, but he didn’t. Life is about choices. Andy taught me that.
Andy taught me responsibility and trusted me to count the
daily register, showed me how to schedule employees, order supplies, serve and treat
people, make tips, cook, clean and WORK HARD.
Within a year or two, he trusted me to train all the new employees and
he knew I would do things as he expected.
I respected him.
During the first year of college I lived on campus but came
home on weekends to work and he always gave me as many hours as I could handle.
To this day my biggest regret is moving home after Freshman year. One day I will blog about my mother but not yet. Suffice it to say she was incredibly lonely without me and guilted me to come home. For three years I had to take two busses and spend three hours each day to travel back and forth but I did it and I worked the whole time as many hours as I could. During college, I didn’t go to a single football game or do the fun college stuff but again, life is about choices and honestly, those “sacrifices” made me who I am today.
Andy would let me study and do my homework when we were slow
and he was always interested in what I was studying, and included me in his family. I know he felt like I was a daughter to him
and I felt it too.
Andy had a bad heart and took nitro pills and once in a
while he struggled. One day he had to
sit down for hours and rest and I ran the restaurant. I LOVED that I could help him and wished he
didn’t have to work so hard.
Andy put his three kids through college and one son became a doctor. I remember his daughter Julie’s graduation party where he made me a high ball drink which just about put me under the table! He also filled me with terrific Greek food and taught me to speak conversational Greek. The little old Greek men who spent their days at the counter, smoking their cigarettes and drinking coffee with just a touch of cream also helped shape me. They sat and watched me, commented on any friends who would stop in, gave me gifts for my birthday and really became a needed family for me. I still remember them and am so grateful that they also played a part in my development.
For some reason as I write this on my 52nd birthday I think of the people who knew me between the ages of 16 and 22 and it is making me cry. I miss them. They loved me and it was so awesome!
After college, I got a job through a temp agency at Merrill
Lynch Pierce Fenner and Smith in downtown Pittsburgh. This was a really male dominated place but
there were a handful of strong female brokers and I had the pleasure of working
with one such woman named Marta.
Marta still is a beautiful, smart and accomplished woman and
successful at work and in her family life.
She has a great husband and a fabulous son who keeps her busy plus adult
stepchildren and dear friends that she cultivates relationships with.
Back in 1990 when I started there, I knew absolutely nothing
about being professional. Marta and the
two leading ladies, Nancy and Karen who were the direct bosses of all us sales
assistants, really helped shape me into a working woman. They were encouraging to me and after a
couple of years when I knew what I was doing, also trusted me to train new
hires. I loved that.
Marta was an only child too but she had a great upbringing with loving parents and included me in so many fun things that I would never have had a chance to experience. And she appreciated how I helped her in her business and treated her clients and she spoiled me.
I think Marta may be the reason I have taken on the role of mentor with Big Brothers and Big Sisters. I mentor a growing girl because Marta’s friendship and love meant so much to me. I appreciate what Marta did for me so much that it was and continues to be inspiring in my life.
Even after I left that job 7 years later, she and I are
still connected and she was there for me when I left my first husband and embarked
on my new life. That was a hard time for
me and I love Marta for being supportive.
She will always be someone that I respect and adore.
I really hope that I can be a great mentor for my Little. It isn’t always easy knowing if I am being a positive influence and teaching Maci how to be a full functioning person. I want to expose her to all the things I can and give her experiences so she has a fuller life than what I had as a child.
It is a journey that is two years in and we have 4 ½ years
yet to fulfil our commitment to each other.
I am looking forward to sharing the lessons we both learn from this experience in future blogs. Maybe someday she will take on a Little of her own! We shall see what life brings to us both but for now, I heartily thank the people who helped me in so many ways. They are definitely still with me!