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Many years ago I joined a writing group

Many years ago I joined a writing group that would have a weekly word prompt.
It is a word specifically set out on Friday and the rule is to write in less than five minutes with minimal editing.
The word this week is order.
I immediately thought of a book I read years ago when our children were younger, written by Dr. James Dobson.
It is on the birth order.
My husband is the third son and I am the third daughter, the youngest of three.
Both are compatible with each other.
Not like if you had two type A first born who married and then tried to work it out.
Some one would have to be the lead or boss and those personalities are hard to adjust.
The birth order is also difficult when two youngest marry, because the expectations of the youngest child is often not the same as the first.
In our home we had a son first, then a daughter. Both tend to be leaders.
I have seen in my grand children how the first born tend to be more leaders and more ‘in control’, although it’s different with our twins who were minutes apart.
The oldest is type A get it figured out and the youngest just minutes from her is easy going not much of a planner.
The birth order is an important key I would think in making major decisions like hiring for a job.
The last born might just move to their own music or agenda and the first born is driven to exceed what is expected of them.
I think the birth order is something good to remember especially when dealing with people.
It is certainly a fascinating topic to look into and explore.
Many years ago I joined a writing group that would challenge us to a word prompt.

Another year for canning is upon us

Another year for canning is upon us and we had a window of time to do it.
We love to make homemade pickles, in fact I have not purchased a pickle jar for several years.
We go to the local farm center and order up the cucumbers, buy the dill and find the jars.
This year the sale was buy one bag of cucumbers and get one free, so we ended up with many more than planned.
Oh and we got a large bag of already peeled garlic to add to the pickle jars.
The way to make really good pickles is to put the cucumbers in a cooler and cover them with ice overnight.
It not only gets them cold, keeps them fresh and really nice.
We have learned the hard way to do them close to the same day we buy them.
One year we had several boxes in our garage and they went fuzzy before we did anything with them.
Not any more. It is a job worth doing as fast as possible.
And not only that we did it all outside.
It was quite the challenge to find the lids to our existing jars so we purchased more jars that were complete.
I guess a lot of people are canning these days.
We ended up with 46 jars of pickles and 2 of the garlic.
Some of them did not seal properly so we ended up water bathing them for extra heat.
My husband had figured out a crab cooker works really well with the canning pot.
Now we must let them rest for 8 weeks before we can open them up and see how they are.
We also did a bunch of cherries a few weeks ago.
I pitted them and then we froze them in bags. They are really good in water, or just to eat.
I love to do these kinds of things, we don’t have a lot of storage space but it is worth the time and effort.
Another year for canning is upon us and we can mark off that item now.

We are living in very interesting times

We are living in very interesting times.
I am 66 years old and in my lifetime I have never seen such weird and crazy weather.
The pacific northwest area where we live, is known for it’s rain and cloudy skies.
I personally welcome it. It speaks to my spirit.
A few months ago we had a deep freeze and power outage.
The trees were solid ice and about a quarter inch thick or more.
Our power was out for about eight days.
We finally brought our travel trailer over to the house.
At least it had a furnace. Our house temperature was a high of 40 and it was very cold.
After the ice melted we had many trees in the area that were broken and needing to be removed.
Our large tree in the back yard was split three ways so we had to take it down.
It looks very different now without it in the yard.
We recovered from all that and just recently we went into a very intense heat wave.
The temps were ranging from 110-117 and all of our plants or at least most of them died.
It was so sad, our hydrangeas burned up, and our garden.
There were deaths in the city from people with no air conditioning or fans.
I have never seen this kind of extreme weather. normally its pretty mild or predictable.
I am by nature a fall person.
I love sweaters and warm pants, I love comfy coats or sweatshirts.
The cooler days and the crispy air, it is refreshing.
Our summer is not over yet and we still could get some warm days.
Our garden is trying to recover and our beautiful flowers are struggling.
I tell myself next year will be better.
We are living in very interesting times these days.

Tomorrow is Fathers day again

Tomorrow is Fathers day again. June 20th, 2021
I know many of ‘these’ days were empty growing up with my dad gone.
He left us when I was only four, too young to understand any reason why.
Every Fathers day, so many times I would find myself standing at the card aisle, looking at all the wonderful sentiments,
and not really relating to any of them.
My dad did not come back into my life until my mid thirties.
Many years were lost between us.
Many memories could have been made, but he was gone.
When he did come back into the family it was very nice, but there was also distance.
We had an understanding between us.
I didn’t expect much of him and I think he knew that on some level.
I was not sure of how to navigate the relationship and possibly he didn’t either.
There were some things now that I wish I had as a memory.
I would have wanted him to walk me down the aisle when my husband and I got married.
I would have wanted the daughter-dad dance, although back then, no one danced at the weddings.
I would have loved to see him hold our son and our daughter as newborn babies.
Grandpa, and baby. That would have been a great photo.
He did spend some time with our son after he grew up and had a home and sons of his own.
Dad was a cowboy with a leather vest, blue jeans with country shirts, that snapped shut, and always cowboy boots.
(I remember trying to sew those western shirts for my husband and son.
It was not easy to do but I did it, at least for one picture.)
Dad was a man of few words. At least that was my impression of him.
He had a difficult life growing up and that was part of the walls he carried into his final years and into his relationships.
Fathers day… A day of remembering.
A day to say thank you, or I miss you or it’s been good to finally have closure.
Tomorrow is Fathers day again,  and I can honestly say, I miss him, and I always will.

It was two years ago June 8th 2019

It was two years ago, June 8th 2019 when I found out my sister had passed away.
It was a shock to hear it.
My sister who was a reason for me to pray, who was often a reason for me to feel responsible.
My sister. Passed away.
Just like today when I opened up my face book page; and realized a precious lady at our church had passed away over the weekend.
My sadness sits in quiet and remembering.
My sister had been ill, and she had struggled for some time before her death.
But it is still a huge shock to one’s heart.
My ‘friend at church’ was ill and fighting for 18 months.
Her journey was much different than my sisters.
Her lifestyle very different too.
My sister was the second born of three girls.
Kind of a restless soul since she was able to walk or talk.
She was stubborn and didn’t really fit in the way one would think she should.
You know the society etiquette stuff where one is expected to act or be one way.
Yeah that wasn’t her.
She was my sister and if I could do one thing; it would be to sit with her and visit one more time.
She often tried to protect me but in her attempt; she would fail in her efforts.
Then she would just leave and not return for months.
She was a wondering soul.
Two years ago she passed away.
I never said good bye and never did closure with her.
It will always bother me.
Maybe she never noticed, maybe she did.
I cannot undo what was done and or said, it is all over now.
All I have is memories.
Just like the memories I have of my lady friend at church.
She was a warrior of the Lord and always a delight in whatever she would do.
Sometimes all we end up with are a few memories and few letters.
My sister sent me cards and gave me a few trinkets throughout the years.
Nothing of great value or cost, just a thoughtful gifts from her heart.
Like I said, she was simple. Not complicated. Not high energy or high in expectations.
She was herself.
The second born daughter out of three.
It was two years ago June 8th 2019 My sister left for her final time.

I saw a quote on face book and it stirred me

I saw a quote on face book and it stirred me to write about it.
The quote: A child’s shoulders were not built to bear the weight of their parents’ choices.
The quote is from TobyMac Speaklife website and I think it’s ok to use it.
Coming from a childhood that was difficult and testy, I see this as a very important quote.
As we were growing up we didn’t get to choose, where we would be living and with who.
It was not only disturbing but very emotionally unstable.
Our mother was a single mom and often times her ‘choices’ were not good.
She did provide a home that was clean, and we did have food on the table.
But the burden of ‘her singleness’ and the need to provide for us was hard.
We had to bear the consequences of what she would decide.
I have also seen parents confide in their children, and act like their children are best friends.
I am not so sure that is a good idea either.
They can’t decide how to support a parent, because they always want to.
It has to be age appropriate sharing and often times the parent can make a wrong choice.
Whether it be a good balance or an uneven one.
Psychologists have said, often times kids who are from abusive homes, want to go back there.
It is familiar to them no matter if it’s healthy or not.
The weight of parents choices are often heavy.
Parents’ who are unhealthy do not stop to think how this ‘decision’ will affect my children.
They are often self absorbed or just coping and not really into the ‘psychology of choices’.
We went to so many schools growing up I never knew what was going on.
I still can’t do basic math very well, because one school was doing one kind and another school another kind.
I was just into surviving.
Bearing the weight is a heavy set of words.
I remember that weight.
It pulled me down so hard for so long, until I was able to push past it.
After working in therapy I am now way past it.
My parents are no longer here, but the choices they made affected each one of us.
Even as adults.
Nothing goes unnoticed.
I saw a quote on face book and it stirred me to write about it.