Today is my 42nd wedding anniversary. Somehow that sounds so old! I remember when my parents had their 25th anniversary and I thought that was forever! Where did the years go? A lot of them were spent making beds ( approximately 26,745 times), cooking meals (45,000 more or less), washing clothes (10,920 loads), Ironing (over 10,000 shirts starched and ironed), and driving to get parts, children, groceries, pets, friends, supplies, etc. about 150,000 miles and 8 cars . In my spare time I've kept records, canned, sewed clothes, painted houses, wallpapered, entertained, decorated, cleaned, and watched football, basketball, baseball, golf, and even soccer and rugby!! Occasionally, I have fenced, worked cattle, fed show heifers, washed pigs, driven tractors, picked up hay bales, mowed yards, planted flower beds, buried pets, and built duck pens. In between I have cuddled kids (and grandkids), laughed a lot and loved enormously.
I haven't done these things alone. I've been lucky enough that we have always worked as a team. Saying that makes me think of a team of mules and that's about right. In a team of mules or horses they seldom pull equally. There are always times when one is caught having to pull the extra weight or load, especially on rough ground. Sometimes, one or the other just doesn't feel up to pulling their full weight, so the other one has to help by pulling just a little harder. In a team effort they each do a little extra to help when it is needed and the load just keeps moving along. If you are watching a team, you never notice this interaction, you just see a strong force doing their job. That's the real meaning of "team work".
It hasn't been all work either. I married a man who loves people. He works hard and is always ready to help another, no matter what the job. However, when he takes a break he likes to have people around. Nothing makes him grin more than the prospect of company and time spent with friends. If he doesn't have friends around he makes friends of the people that are around. Once when we were young marrieds we were dreaming about vacations we would like to take. He stopped the process cold when he announced that the worst thing would be to take this dream vacation with just me! Now, I thought about just killing him on the spot, but the more I thought about it I knew what he was saying. For him, the fun of any trip is the people that you have around you. He wanted to share his fun with his friends, not just his spouse. It really didn't mean that he didn't want me to go, just he liked a party to go along with it. It's an attitude that has kept things lively and fun for many years. We've met lots of people, had lots of fun and shared a lot of laughs!
Now that sounds a little like he is insensitive to my needs. Not at all. There has never been a time that I haven't known that I was cherished and loved. I can honestly say that I have never doubted his love or commitment to me and our marriage. He's not often romantic, in the traditional sense. Soft music and candlelit dinners are not things I associate with him. However, no one can match the romance of taking a ride at twilight in the Ranger and watching the sunset on your land while you watch your cattle peacefully grazing. Then there is the magic of sharing the moment when the cow you have struggled with through a difficult birth, nuzzles the still wet calf, and moans that soft, mama sound that says "hello, little one" in any language. There is the romance of holding hands through a high school graduation, a wedding, a baptism, in the doctor's office, and a hundred other moments when only a touch will suffice. There is the romance of looking across a room and sending the message that I am tired and ready to go home and having him promptly make a move to leave. That's real love.
Did we know what we were getting into 42 years ago? Not in our wildest dreams (or nightmares). Would we do it again--absolutely! Has it been perfect? Ain't nothin' perfect!! But it has has been pretty, darned good!! Good enough that I'm looking forward to the next 25-30 years.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Songs of Praise
Wednesday nights are very special.
Our church doesn't have Wednesday night services, but we praise the Lord anyway. On Wednesday we have choir practice. We are a very small church so the choir is small, too. We have four altos, 5-7 sopranos, 2 bases and 1 tenor. For Christmas and Easter cantatas we might pull in a few extras for a few weeks, but mostly it's just the few of us. What we do have is an outstanding music director. He has taught us to sing--literally.
Higo is from Brazil. He attended school in a small Baptist college in our state. Several years ago our minister got the wonderful idea to use the music students at this college as music directors for our church. For some reason, this college has formed an alliance with Brazil. They have a very large student population, most of them with ties to the music college. These gifted students
have opened our eyes to the culture and warmth of their country. They come to the US, some of them with very limited English, but all of them with a great determination to achieve an education.
Through these students we have expanded our horizons and opened our hearts. The first student we had lived in the trailer that my father occupied during his life here. We thought, in our ignorance, that he would be thrilled to have such a nice home. We found out later that he came from a very affluent family. His grandfather was a minister of some note and a professor at the university. He lived in Fontaleza a beautiful, coastal city. His parents had immigrated to the United States and now lived in Orlando, Fl. He was much more cosmopolitan than any of us in our small town.
What these students have is a tremendous dedication to getting an education. In their country it is very difficult, if not impossible, to get into a college. Many, many apply and very few are accepted. They simply do not have the educational opportunities that we take for granted. It is very expensive for parents to send them to the US. The Brazilian dollar trades at 2 to 1 for US dollars. Many of the parents will make huge sacrifices to keep their students here for four years. Also, because travel is very expensive many will not see their children again for at least one year and maybe more. Thank goodness for computers--their main contact.
Higo, our current director, came here with limited English. The first time he tried to direct us it was like playing charades. He would pantomime and we would guess what he meant. However, when he started playing the piano we didn't need a translation for the extraordinary music he created. We have grown together. He now is so fluent in English that he can make quite subtle and funny jokes. We have learned musically until we can follow his directions without making too many embarrassing mistakes. He has lifted us way beyond what we ever dreamed we could do. More than once we have looked at the music he has selected and been positive that we could never accomplish it. However, he has led us patiently until a miracle has happened and a beautiful piece of music appears. He has made us dream, and reach for our dreams, and sometimes we even reach our dreams.
He has done all of this with a deep, abiding faith that makes us all feel lacking. He has taught us that each hymn is literally a praise song for God. He has taught us that faith is the bottom line in all of your life. He lives his faith. We have been blessed by his talent, his willingness to teach us, and the opportunity to meet his family and learn about his country. However, we have been blessed most by his example of faith.
Our church doesn't have Wednesday night services, but we praise the Lord anyway. On Wednesday we have choir practice. We are a very small church so the choir is small, too. We have four altos, 5-7 sopranos, 2 bases and 1 tenor. For Christmas and Easter cantatas we might pull in a few extras for a few weeks, but mostly it's just the few of us. What we do have is an outstanding music director. He has taught us to sing--literally.
Higo is from Brazil. He attended school in a small Baptist college in our state. Several years ago our minister got the wonderful idea to use the music students at this college as music directors for our church. For some reason, this college has formed an alliance with Brazil. They have a very large student population, most of them with ties to the music college. These gifted students
have opened our eyes to the culture and warmth of their country. They come to the US, some of them with very limited English, but all of them with a great determination to achieve an education.
Through these students we have expanded our horizons and opened our hearts. The first student we had lived in the trailer that my father occupied during his life here. We thought, in our ignorance, that he would be thrilled to have such a nice home. We found out later that he came from a very affluent family. His grandfather was a minister of some note and a professor at the university. He lived in Fontaleza a beautiful, coastal city. His parents had immigrated to the United States and now lived in Orlando, Fl. He was much more cosmopolitan than any of us in our small town.
What these students have is a tremendous dedication to getting an education. In their country it is very difficult, if not impossible, to get into a college. Many, many apply and very few are accepted. They simply do not have the educational opportunities that we take for granted. It is very expensive for parents to send them to the US. The Brazilian dollar trades at 2 to 1 for US dollars. Many of the parents will make huge sacrifices to keep their students here for four years. Also, because travel is very expensive many will not see their children again for at least one year and maybe more. Thank goodness for computers--their main contact.
Higo, our current director, came here with limited English. The first time he tried to direct us it was like playing charades. He would pantomime and we would guess what he meant. However, when he started playing the piano we didn't need a translation for the extraordinary music he created. We have grown together. He now is so fluent in English that he can make quite subtle and funny jokes. We have learned musically until we can follow his directions without making too many embarrassing mistakes. He has lifted us way beyond what we ever dreamed we could do. More than once we have looked at the music he has selected and been positive that we could never accomplish it. However, he has led us patiently until a miracle has happened and a beautiful piece of music appears. He has made us dream, and reach for our dreams, and sometimes we even reach our dreams.
He has done all of this with a deep, abiding faith that makes us all feel lacking. He has taught us that each hymn is literally a praise song for God. He has taught us that faith is the bottom line in all of your life. He lives his faith. We have been blessed by his talent, his willingness to teach us, and the opportunity to meet his family and learn about his country. However, we have been blessed most by his example of faith.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Small World
It really is a small world.
Thirty-eight years ago Bob accepted a job to open an office for a lending company for farmers in a small town. We had passed through there going to and from school, but didn't know anything about it. It was pretty and a lot like the small community that we grew up in, but that was the extent of our knowledge of it. Of course, the first thing we did was call our parents and tell them the news. This would mean that we would be only about one hour from home, which tickled them. The first thing my dad said was, "I think I know someone from there. Let me check."
Sure enough, the next night we get a call. There was a couple who lived just up the street from my parents, who had been friends with my grandparents. He had originally come from this same community and just happened to have a nephew who still lived there and was a real estate agent. Small world. I also believe in "meant to be". We called this young man, made an appointment to see some houses on a Saturday morning on the way to see my sister. We looked at three houses, talked all night and made an offer on our way back through on Sunday evening. An impulse that put us in a perfect location with great neighbors for the next 13 years. It was meant to be.
Then the small world part kicks in again. Around the corner lived a great couple with a large family. Some were grown, some still in high school. In talking to this couple I realized that one of their daughters was a friend from college. In fact, we had pledged the same sorority. For years after that, when she came home she would trot around the corner for a quick catch-up visit.
Life moves on. Our children grew up, we moved to the country, she moved to another town. We still kept in touch, sort of, through her mother, but we really lost touch. Then this morning I received a call from her mother. With a catch in her voice she said, "you know our Kate has cancer". It seems she is taking chemo and losing her hair. Her mother said that she remembered how good my wigs looked and wanted to help her daughter find a perfect one. I immediately gathered up my wig catalogs, that I keep on hand for just this reason. I took them to her house and had a long talk with her. I think she felt better. I did love my wigs. They were cheap, synthetic, and kept me from feeling that I looked sick. I was so glad that I could help in a small way with this traumatic time.
It is a small world.
Thirty-eight years ago Bob accepted a job to open an office for a lending company for farmers in a small town. We had passed through there going to and from school, but didn't know anything about it. It was pretty and a lot like the small community that we grew up in, but that was the extent of our knowledge of it. Of course, the first thing we did was call our parents and tell them the news. This would mean that we would be only about one hour from home, which tickled them. The first thing my dad said was, "I think I know someone from there. Let me check."
Sure enough, the next night we get a call. There was a couple who lived just up the street from my parents, who had been friends with my grandparents. He had originally come from this same community and just happened to have a nephew who still lived there and was a real estate agent. Small world. I also believe in "meant to be". We called this young man, made an appointment to see some houses on a Saturday morning on the way to see my sister. We looked at three houses, talked all night and made an offer on our way back through on Sunday evening. An impulse that put us in a perfect location with great neighbors for the next 13 years. It was meant to be.
Then the small world part kicks in again. Around the corner lived a great couple with a large family. Some were grown, some still in high school. In talking to this couple I realized that one of their daughters was a friend from college. In fact, we had pledged the same sorority. For years after that, when she came home she would trot around the corner for a quick catch-up visit.
Life moves on. Our children grew up, we moved to the country, she moved to another town. We still kept in touch, sort of, through her mother, but we really lost touch. Then this morning I received a call from her mother. With a catch in her voice she said, "you know our Kate has cancer". It seems she is taking chemo and losing her hair. Her mother said that she remembered how good my wigs looked and wanted to help her daughter find a perfect one. I immediately gathered up my wig catalogs, that I keep on hand for just this reason. I took them to her house and had a long talk with her. I think she felt better. I did love my wigs. They were cheap, synthetic, and kept me from feeling that I looked sick. I was so glad that I could help in a small way with this traumatic time.
It is a small world.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Summer Time
We have been having a string of hot weather. Temperatures have been topping out over 95 most days and have hit 100 several times. Add in our usual humidity and you have some miserable weather. I have coped, like a lot of people, by staying inside in the air conditioning. I can't help but wonder about how we coped when we didn't have central air. Don't get me wrong, I do remember those days. I just don't remember how we managed.
I can see my mother now, all dressed up, driving us to church. When she would get out of the car she would have sweated through the back of her blouse. She didn't go "Oh, I have to change. I'm all sweaty!!" She just went to church. Everyone was sweaty and hot. Cars didn't have air conditioning, churches didn't have air conditioning--you just dealt with it. Now, I wear a sweater to church because it is so cold inside that I get chilled.
I remember my dad talking about sleeping porches. Big porches, usually upstairs off the bedrooms, that everyone moved out onto in the hot summer nights to sleep. The boys would all sleep together on pallets made out of quilts and tell stories when they couldn't sleep. Sometimes grandpa would join them and tell even bigger stories. If they got too rowdy, then grandma would come out and shush them. As a kid, we didn't have porches to sleep on in town, so we made do with windows and fans. My dad was a master at air control. He would aim a big fan out the upstairs window and close all the windows but the bedroom. A cool breeze would then be pulled into the house, over the beds, and out the upstairs. Along with the breeze would come all the summer sounds. Katydids, frogs, crickets, sleepy night bird sounds, and rustling trees. It was a lullaby that few could resist.
As kids we stayed outside all day. For one thing, the houses were hot, so staying inside didn't have any benefit. While, if we went outside, then we were at least out of immediate adult supervision. One of my favorite places was the cool, damp area behind the huge hydrangea bushes on the side of the house. Once you crawled through the foliage you were in a perfect kidsized area all shady and private. It was a great place to catch rolly-polly bugs and watch them roll into perfect little gray balls. It was also a great place to hide from older sisters or share childish secrets with a friend. I don't remember ever being afraid of the creepy, crawlies that also lived in that area. Even spiders, which send me running for a broom now, didn't seem to bother us.
Even as a kid I knew that kitchens were not a pleasant place to hang around. Even with the ever present fan pushing air around, it was a hot place to work. Meals tended to be quick and cold. Cold sandwiches, fresh fruit, cottage cheese, and lots of iced tea. I swear my dad invented the chef's salad. He loved to cook and he loved salads. So he would make a huge salad with everything he could find left-over in the refrigerator. In would go the basics, lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, radishes. After that might come anything. He would dice up leftover roast, cold potatoes, olives, pickles, cheese, broccoli, cauliflower, and toss it into the mix. Then he would add my mothers special Italian dressing and toss it all together. The result was never the same twice and always delicious. A whole meal. Probably the greatest moment in his life was when he saw the first salad bar and he could build his own in a restaurant.
You know, there are a lot of disadvantages of air conditioning. Yes, we are cool, but we've lost the front porch, the outdoor sounds through an open window, long, lazy talks under a shade tree and the connections you had with others who were outside to beat the heat. Now we tend to isolate ourselves in our own little cool pod. That's life I guess, you gain a little and lose a little, all at the same time. Frankly, at 100 degrees, I think it might be a fair trade-off.
I can see my mother now, all dressed up, driving us to church. When she would get out of the car she would have sweated through the back of her blouse. She didn't go "Oh, I have to change. I'm all sweaty!!" She just went to church. Everyone was sweaty and hot. Cars didn't have air conditioning, churches didn't have air conditioning--you just dealt with it. Now, I wear a sweater to church because it is so cold inside that I get chilled.
I remember my dad talking about sleeping porches. Big porches, usually upstairs off the bedrooms, that everyone moved out onto in the hot summer nights to sleep. The boys would all sleep together on pallets made out of quilts and tell stories when they couldn't sleep. Sometimes grandpa would join them and tell even bigger stories. If they got too rowdy, then grandma would come out and shush them. As a kid, we didn't have porches to sleep on in town, so we made do with windows and fans. My dad was a master at air control. He would aim a big fan out the upstairs window and close all the windows but the bedroom. A cool breeze would then be pulled into the house, over the beds, and out the upstairs. Along with the breeze would come all the summer sounds. Katydids, frogs, crickets, sleepy night bird sounds, and rustling trees. It was a lullaby that few could resist.
As kids we stayed outside all day. For one thing, the houses were hot, so staying inside didn't have any benefit. While, if we went outside, then we were at least out of immediate adult supervision. One of my favorite places was the cool, damp area behind the huge hydrangea bushes on the side of the house. Once you crawled through the foliage you were in a perfect kidsized area all shady and private. It was a great place to catch rolly-polly bugs and watch them roll into perfect little gray balls. It was also a great place to hide from older sisters or share childish secrets with a friend. I don't remember ever being afraid of the creepy, crawlies that also lived in that area. Even spiders, which send me running for a broom now, didn't seem to bother us.
Even as a kid I knew that kitchens were not a pleasant place to hang around. Even with the ever present fan pushing air around, it was a hot place to work. Meals tended to be quick and cold. Cold sandwiches, fresh fruit, cottage cheese, and lots of iced tea. I swear my dad invented the chef's salad. He loved to cook and he loved salads. So he would make a huge salad with everything he could find left-over in the refrigerator. In would go the basics, lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, radishes. After that might come anything. He would dice up leftover roast, cold potatoes, olives, pickles, cheese, broccoli, cauliflower, and toss it into the mix. Then he would add my mothers special Italian dressing and toss it all together. The result was never the same twice and always delicious. A whole meal. Probably the greatest moment in his life was when he saw the first salad bar and he could build his own in a restaurant.
You know, there are a lot of disadvantages of air conditioning. Yes, we are cool, but we've lost the front porch, the outdoor sounds through an open window, long, lazy talks under a shade tree and the connections you had with others who were outside to beat the heat. Now we tend to isolate ourselves in our own little cool pod. That's life I guess, you gain a little and lose a little, all at the same time. Frankly, at 100 degrees, I think it might be a fair trade-off.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
The Big C
Nine years ago this month I was diagnosed with breast cancer. No lump, no signs, just a suspicious group of white dots on my annual mammogram. It seemed so unreal that everyone was so serious about what looked like dust specks on the film. I went from "you see what?" to choosing whether to have a breast saving lumpectomy or a mastectomy in only minutes. I think the hardest part was everyone pushing you for quick answers when you don't even grasp what the question is. It was all so rushed. Suddenly I was being bombarded with information and questions in what seemed like a foreign language. I needed translations for the simplest statements. Words like carcinoma, stages, FSH testing, chemotherapy, lymphectomy, lumpectomy, mastectomy, radiation, all bounced around in my head, while I tried to make sense of all the meanings. While the whole time a voice inside was screaming I HAVE CANCER!!
The thing is that in a personal crisis, the world doesn't stop turning. You still have to make decisions about the day to day things, too. In just over a month my husband and I were leaving on a long awaited dream vacation. A cruise to Alaska. Did we just cancel it and lose our money or was it unreasonable to even think of our dreams at a time like this? Thank goodness for an understanding doctor who listened to our confusion and distress. I wanted to take this cruise. I was facing the possibility that this might be the last big trip we would take. I wanted to have this time with my husband. My doctor encouraged me to not give up our plans, but to have the surgery and go on. He assured me that in a month I would feel well enough to go and enjoy the trip. Most people thought we both were crazy, but it worked. We had a wonderful trip and plan on doing it again!
That was my motto through all the chemo and radiation. I tried not to let it keep me from doing the fun things. It wasn't a fun time but there were some wonderful moments. I took chemo every three weeks for four treatments. They really made me sick for about four days, then I would feel a little better each day. About the time for the next treatment I would feel really good. There were three couples that were very supportive and close. Just before the next treatment we would all go out to dinner and celebrate my "last supper" before being sick again. They were wonderful dinners, full of laughter and fun.
I thought that losing my hair would be terrible. However, it really was just another little bump in a time of huge hills. My beautician of 30 years helped me select several inexpensive wigs and then styled them to more closely resemble my haircut. I wore them everywhere and loved them. There are some real advantages to wigs. The synthetic ones, like mine, don't need styling, just a little fluffing each morning. Also, they don't get messy in wind, rain and convertibles! I could pop my wig on and be ready to go in about one minute. My daughter kept teasing me that I wouldn't ever go back to real hair since this was so easy.
Having cancer changed me. It made me look at life differently. It made me appreciate those who love me. It made me realize that people did care. It made me laugh more and delight in every day. It's made me realize that there are no guarantees. Tomorrow may not come, so don't waste today. The hardest thing has been that although I have been cancer free for nine years, I am not cured. It could come back at any time. I once met a lady who had been cancer free for 25 years then had a recurrence. It has made me realize that I can't relax and become lazy, I have to LIVE every day!
The thing is that in a personal crisis, the world doesn't stop turning. You still have to make decisions about the day to day things, too. In just over a month my husband and I were leaving on a long awaited dream vacation. A cruise to Alaska. Did we just cancel it and lose our money or was it unreasonable to even think of our dreams at a time like this? Thank goodness for an understanding doctor who listened to our confusion and distress. I wanted to take this cruise. I was facing the possibility that this might be the last big trip we would take. I wanted to have this time with my husband. My doctor encouraged me to not give up our plans, but to have the surgery and go on. He assured me that in a month I would feel well enough to go and enjoy the trip. Most people thought we both were crazy, but it worked. We had a wonderful trip and plan on doing it again!
That was my motto through all the chemo and radiation. I tried not to let it keep me from doing the fun things. It wasn't a fun time but there were some wonderful moments. I took chemo every three weeks for four treatments. They really made me sick for about four days, then I would feel a little better each day. About the time for the next treatment I would feel really good. There were three couples that were very supportive and close. Just before the next treatment we would all go out to dinner and celebrate my "last supper" before being sick again. They were wonderful dinners, full of laughter and fun.
I thought that losing my hair would be terrible. However, it really was just another little bump in a time of huge hills. My beautician of 30 years helped me select several inexpensive wigs and then styled them to more closely resemble my haircut. I wore them everywhere and loved them. There are some real advantages to wigs. The synthetic ones, like mine, don't need styling, just a little fluffing each morning. Also, they don't get messy in wind, rain and convertibles! I could pop my wig on and be ready to go in about one minute. My daughter kept teasing me that I wouldn't ever go back to real hair since this was so easy.
Having cancer changed me. It made me look at life differently. It made me appreciate those who love me. It made me realize that people did care. It made me laugh more and delight in every day. It's made me realize that there are no guarantees. Tomorrow may not come, so don't waste today. The hardest thing has been that although I have been cancer free for nine years, I am not cured. It could come back at any time. I once met a lady who had been cancer free for 25 years then had a recurrence. It has made me realize that I can't relax and become lazy, I have to LIVE every day!
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Chicago Drivers
We just returned from our first visit to Chicago, home of Oprah, traffic, Lake Michigan, traffic, the Cubs, traffic, beautiful cityscape, and did I mention lots of traffic????
People definitely drive differently in the city--at least this city. The sheer numbers were staggering, but the manners were unbelievable. Down here in the south in our little towns we tend to treat others as we would like to be treated. That means we are courteous, considerate, and even a little understanding. It's a little different when you are battling a few hundred people for your spot in the road.
Our first lesson was that you don't use your turn signal. If you signal your intentions to change lanes then everyone hustles to close up any minute gap there may be so you can't possibly change. It's like it is a grand conspiracy to be sure that you can't get anywhere other than where you are. I told my hubby that they all drive like only the first 10 people are going to be allowed in, so they have to be first. Competitive, is putting it mildly.
Lesson two was that you can't leave more than a foot or two between cars. If you do someone will cut in front of you at 70 mph, whether there is room or not. We drive with the understanding that it takes more than a foot or two to stop at 70 mph so we leave a little more room. My hubby got over than pretty quickly. By now I am clutching the dash with one hand and the door with the other.
Lesson three is that all roads are toll roads. I didn't even realize that interstate highways could be toll roads. For $15 dollars you can go anywhere in Chicago. The trick is to have a pass to get through the toll stations. Of course, we didn't have one, so we had to go to the cash booth. That means cutting across 10 lanes of traffic (they are always at the spot where you have traffic entering and exiting) and dash into one of 6-10 booths. Then all the 6-10 lanes converge into one lane and enter the highway again. Now I have one foot on the dash and am clutching the seat belt with my teeth.
Lesson four, the traffic will stop. You can just bet that at some point you will be stalled in traffic with a couple of hundred other drivers who are desperate to get somewhere in a hurry. Not a fun scene at all. Thank goodness for air conditioning, I hate to think what I would have heard with all the windows down.
Lesson five, the horn is necessary for driving. It must be because all the drivers use theirs a lot!! Now for us little country people having someone blasting away on a horn every few minutes is a little unnerving. They blow if you slow down, they blow if you don't slow down, they blow if you don't start up fast enough, they blow if you stop too fast, they blow just to relieve some of the frustration of being stopped at all.
This all being said, we did love Chicago. The city is beautiful, the lake is magnificent, we had a great time and will go again. Although, I think I will fly and take a taxi!
People definitely drive differently in the city--at least this city. The sheer numbers were staggering, but the manners were unbelievable. Down here in the south in our little towns we tend to treat others as we would like to be treated. That means we are courteous, considerate, and even a little understanding. It's a little different when you are battling a few hundred people for your spot in the road.
Our first lesson was that you don't use your turn signal. If you signal your intentions to change lanes then everyone hustles to close up any minute gap there may be so you can't possibly change. It's like it is a grand conspiracy to be sure that you can't get anywhere other than where you are. I told my hubby that they all drive like only the first 10 people are going to be allowed in, so they have to be first. Competitive, is putting it mildly.
Lesson two was that you can't leave more than a foot or two between cars. If you do someone will cut in front of you at 70 mph, whether there is room or not. We drive with the understanding that it takes more than a foot or two to stop at 70 mph so we leave a little more room. My hubby got over than pretty quickly. By now I am clutching the dash with one hand and the door with the other.
Lesson three is that all roads are toll roads. I didn't even realize that interstate highways could be toll roads. For $15 dollars you can go anywhere in Chicago. The trick is to have a pass to get through the toll stations. Of course, we didn't have one, so we had to go to the cash booth. That means cutting across 10 lanes of traffic (they are always at the spot where you have traffic entering and exiting) and dash into one of 6-10 booths. Then all the 6-10 lanes converge into one lane and enter the highway again. Now I have one foot on the dash and am clutching the seat belt with my teeth.
Lesson four, the traffic will stop. You can just bet that at some point you will be stalled in traffic with a couple of hundred other drivers who are desperate to get somewhere in a hurry. Not a fun scene at all. Thank goodness for air conditioning, I hate to think what I would have heard with all the windows down.
Lesson five, the horn is necessary for driving. It must be because all the drivers use theirs a lot!! Now for us little country people having someone blasting away on a horn every few minutes is a little unnerving. They blow if you slow down, they blow if you don't slow down, they blow if you don't start up fast enough, they blow if you stop too fast, they blow just to relieve some of the frustration of being stopped at all.
This all being said, we did love Chicago. The city is beautiful, the lake is magnificent, we had a great time and will go again. Although, I think I will fly and take a taxi!
Monday, August 2, 2010
Class Reunion
Last week-end we attended my hubby's 45th class reunion. Actually it was their first class reunion but celebrating 45 years after graduation. We both attended the same small high school, so I knew his classmates pretty well. His class had about 40 members. Four have passed away, so that brought the number down to 36. Of those, about 21 showed up for the reunion. Which isn't bad. The worst part is that four or five that didn't show up still live in the same little community. We would have enjoyed seeing them, too.
Bob was the class vice-president, voted most likely to succeed, selected as Mr. Senior by the faculty and was generally a nice guy. Of course, if you don't have many in your class you have a better chance of getting selected for things. His best friend and the guy we double dated with in school, was the president. It fell to him to get the ball rolling to organize the reunion and host the meal. It's funny how often you get it right. He was definitely the guy for the job, but how did they know that when he was 18? Bob was picked most likely to succeed and he has. He probably wasn't the most successful in their class but he has had the drive and ability to run his own business and done very well. Did that drive, aggressiveness, dependability, astuteness show up when he was in high school? We didn't always know. Some have accomplished more than we ever thought possible, some never reached the potential you knew they had. Some were very content and satisfied, some seemed to feel they had missed their opportunities. Some were divorced, some never married and some (like us) have been happily married for over 40 years.
The fun was in getting to know everyone again and discovering that the person you knew is still there, even though the packaging has changed. It wasn't long until the class clown was taking jibes at one of the girls. Immediately, you flashed back to classes when those two had gone at it just the same way. Stories were told and memories flowed. All in all it was a good evening.
Bob was the class vice-president, voted most likely to succeed, selected as Mr. Senior by the faculty and was generally a nice guy. Of course, if you don't have many in your class you have a better chance of getting selected for things. His best friend and the guy we double dated with in school, was the president. It fell to him to get the ball rolling to organize the reunion and host the meal. It's funny how often you get it right. He was definitely the guy for the job, but how did they know that when he was 18? Bob was picked most likely to succeed and he has. He probably wasn't the most successful in their class but he has had the drive and ability to run his own business and done very well. Did that drive, aggressiveness, dependability, astuteness show up when he was in high school? We didn't always know. Some have accomplished more than we ever thought possible, some never reached the potential you knew they had. Some were very content and satisfied, some seemed to feel they had missed their opportunities. Some were divorced, some never married and some (like us) have been happily married for over 40 years.
The fun was in getting to know everyone again and discovering that the person you knew is still there, even though the packaging has changed. It wasn't long until the class clown was taking jibes at one of the girls. Immediately, you flashed back to classes when those two had gone at it just the same way. Stories were told and memories flowed. All in all it was a good evening.
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