Just Because

This is an overhead shot of my geranium plants in the garden. As you can see, one little flower is blooming and there are other ones getting ready.

For as long as I can remember, we always had geraniums in pots during the summer. My mother was not a gardener, but when summer came, there were always geraniums in pots on the porch. They were usually red, and I'm not sure if that's because my mom liked the red best, or if there wasn't really any choice where she got them.

Anyway, to me it's not right to NOT have at least one geranium for the summer. A couple of years ago, I bought one and put it in a pot with another plant whose name escapes me and placed it on our front stoop. It looked so lovely. Apparently *so* lovely that someone else just had to have it ...

Now the geraniums (well, all the plants really) stay in the garden, which is enclosed. This year, I bought a pink one and a red one, and then got home to realize I didn't have two pots. Now you need to understand that, when I am ready to do something like plant/pot/whatever, it has to happen THEN. So both plants got put into a larger pot, and at least so far, all is well.

Every year when I buy a geranium or two, The Tim says, "I don't undertand why you buy those. I mean, they're nice, but yours never last into the fall or beyond, even when you bring them inside to take care of them." 

Silly boy. Apparently he had a deprived childhood. 

Because everyone (well, me) knows that if it's summer, you have to have a geranium in a pot to make you smile. 

Have a good weekend. 😊

"The Legend Lives On, From the Chippewa On Down ..."

 

The SS Edmund Fitzgerald

If you are of a certain age, you have likely heard the song by Gordon Lightfoot called "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," commemorating something that happened 50 years ago today.  The Edmund Fitzgerald was pretty much considered the ultimate ship for purpose, and much like its unlikely predecessor, the Titanic, was considered pretty unsinkable. Which we have learned time and time again, does not seem to be an actual quality.

Anyway, this time of year, it always comes into focus because of the unfortunate anniversary, and of course this year being the 50th anniversary, there are all kinds of stories about it and the people who worked on it.

I have my own story about the Edmund Fitzgerald, though it happened six years before the ship's demise. 

One of my father's fondest dreams was to someday go on a cruise. Of course, it never happened, because we barely had enough money for necessary things. He worked in the trucking industry, dealing with all kinds of transportation issues and people. In the later part of September 1969, one of the people he dealt with on a regular basis asked if he and my mother would like to go on one of the big ships that transported ore and other materials around the Great Lakes. Apparently this was something that they did on a yearly basis, with maybe up to 10 non-crew people traveling on the ships. 

My mother had no interest in doing this at all. But my father was so excited, and he really saw it as a chance to finally go on a huge ship through famous waters. So off they set for a 10 day trip, on the SS Edmund Fitzgerald.

Towards the end of the trip, my father got really sick. Two days after they returned, he went into the hospital. The cancer that had started in his stomach five years before, returned, settling in his liver. He never got to come back home, and he died on the Monday of Thanksgiving week in 1969.*

My mother said that except for the last couple of days, he absolutely loved being on that ship, and everything about it. She said that she was glad that they went, because he kept saying how wonderful it was.

Six years later, the actual wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald occurred. A massive tragedy affecting the lives of so many families who would never be the same. And then Gordon Lightfoot came out with his song, which told the tale in the most evocative and heartbreaking way.

Every year when the anniversary rolls around, it reminds me of my own personal anniversary that is approaching. I have always felt the shipwreck more as a personal thing than I should, given that no one on the ship on that fateful day had any direct connection with me. But I guess the fact that I knew of the ship beforehand, and it was associated with my father's last happy earthly adventure, made it all more personal.

"Does anyone know where the love of God goes 

When the waves turn the minutes to hours?" 

-- lyric from "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald"

*This year happens to be a repeat of that week, with November 24th being on a Monday. On the occasions that it happens that way, I am somehow always surprised - as if that should have only happened once.

So Long 2021

Just like always on December 31, here we are on the last day of the year.  I always see it as bittersweet, because you can't help but think of what was, what wasn't, and what could/should have been.  Much of life is that way, but I think New Year's Eve brings it to the forefront.

The past year has been good in so many ways.  Everyone in our house is first of all, still alive, and that overtakes anything else both good or bad.  We all managed to stay fairly healthy, with a few bumps along the way but nothing serious.  That first and foremost makes it a good year as far as I'm concerned.

And I managed to get a fair amount of knitting done, a lot of reading, a good spell of exercising and working out before something put the kibosh on that for a few months; I've done pretty well on keeping up with the house and to some extent, our garden.  

We were able to take a trip to WV for Memorial Day, and then a weekend in Baltimore in the fall, so we saw some of our family in person finally - whoo hoo!

WE PAID OFF THE MORTGAGE ON OUR HOUSE.  That is something I never thought happened to anyone, much less to us!

But as you likely know, and as I don't mind telling you, I have struggled mightily this year, mental health-wise.  It hasn't been good that way.  Even on my a best days, the darkness is only about an inch away, but most of the time I'm used to it being there and can just tell it to stay there and move forward with my life.  

Unfortunately, this year that was not the case.  And 99.999999% of it had to do with my workplace.  As I have mentioned, at the beginning of the year, our CEO decided to take over direct supervision of our dept when our previous supervisor took a sabbatical.  That meant that a tenuous situation took a serious nosedive.  He has no idea what any of us actually do, and more to the point, doesn't care and doesn't want to know.  Yet he is the one in charge of us and the one who evaluated us at the end of the year.  There is only one person in the dept he likes, and well, he likes her a bit too much.  Out of the four of us, there are two left - me and Little Miss Favorite.  She doesn't even speak to me (no one has ever figured out why), and for the near future I'm stuck with the two of them.  This is the same person who told me I was stupid in a meeting with other people, and who regularly finds ways to harrass and/or criticize me.  I've reported him to HR, but nothing has happened.  

I did learn before the holidays that one of the managers lodged a formal complaint about him with HR, which will lead to an official investigation, so that small amount of misery-loving-company made me feel a bit vindicated.

But it's been hard to get up each day, go to work, and repeat.  And even though I have tried really hard to leave it in the building once I walk out the door (something that I am usually able to do), it just hasn't been the case.  Even over this past week, the spectre of the holiday week being over and having to go to work has just been there, laughing at me.  Ugh.    

I really hope I can find something - anything - in 2022.  So far, I've been lucky enough to get interviews for 2 part-time jobs, and then failed to be the person chosen.  That's gotten harder each time.  So please keep a good thought for me, since being able to leave where I am would be a huge help.

 ...

But - I'm still lucky, because I am surrounded by love and ridiculousness that can make me laugh, even when I feel the worst.  For instance, this photo:

This is an official Koodle selfie.  Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting on the couch reading, and Hamlet was being a real goofball.  So I grabbed my phone to take a picture of him.  Just as I got ready to snap the photo, the Koodle jumped up, bumped me on the elbow, which apparently changed the setting to selfie mode, and here he is!  It's not a great photo, but frankly it's a heckuva lot better than any selfie *I've* ever tried to take ... 😀

So let's all hope for more of this in 2022, and less of You-Know-Who.  I have been telling myself that it just has to get better, even if it is worse right now.  I'm not a Pollyanna by any means, but with a brand new year around the bend, I want the good parts to outweigh everything else.  

So long, 2021 - you weren't easy, but it wasn't all your fault.  Let's hope that the new year will brush off some of your dust so we can just be ourselves again.

Here's to 2022 - hopefully a new job, more vaccinated people, more goodness in the world!  Let's normalize the pandemic as a thing of the past, right?

How Easily I Forget

It's the time of year when "Year in Review" things are everywhere, and just like every year when they do them, I realize how much I forgot even happened at all; or someone will have died, and I'll remember thinking they had already been dead for years.  Does that happen to you?

I mean, not all of it is worth making the effort to remember, but there are some things that were SO big when they happened, and I at least apparently moved right on.

Case in point:

I remembered the inauguration and the insurrection, but until someone posted this photo, I forgot all about Bernie Sanders and his mittens:

(Source: New York Times)

And then remember how people were so anxious to knit a pair?  I mean, that was all pretty popular at the time.  Left my brain completely.

And this - completely forgot that it happened this past year - the ship stuck in the Suez Canal:

(Source: New York Times)

When it was happening, I found it weirdly fascinating, and wondered how they would be able to get it to move so they could get it out of the way.  Now it feels like it happened 20 years ago.

Rush Limbaugh died.  I forgot all about that, but was pleased to realize it again when reminded.  Same with anything Kardashian-adjacent (divorces, show cancellations) that happened that I had to hear about even when I didn't try.

Bill Cosby was let out of prison. Ugh.

On the plus side, a vaccine for Covid-19 was approved and available, but of course some people didn't get it due to their "freedoms" and so we are still in the pandemic.  Ugh.  But seriously, I forgot that at this time in 2020, we were all still hoping it would be a reality (the vaccine, not the stupidity).

Remember the approximately 2-week period when we were told that things were under control enough that we didn't have to constantly wear masks, even outside?  Again, I would have sworn that was 20 years ago.

Time is weird.  Fascinating, but weird.  Who knows what I'll have forgotten about by this time next year??

To The Moon!

It was really really late on a weekend, and my parents, my sister Mary Ellen, the cat, the dog and I were sitting in the dark with the television on ("We'll see it all better if the lights are out," my dad said.  Also, my sister Nancy was married and living in Maryland, so she and her husband were watching their TV at their apartment.) 

Why?  Because of this:

DO YOU SEE THAT???  IT'S FROM THE MOON!!!!  TV from the moon!

I remember all of this so very clearly, not just because it was so exciting, but because it was also the last time we would (mostly) all be together for something so wonderful.  Just days before, the astronauts had taken off, on their way to the moon.  THE MOON - unbelievable!

Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, Buzz Aldrin - look at them, so young!  Of course, as a kid, I was well aware that things could go wrong, but everyone was just so incredibly excited.  As an adult, I cannot even imagine how not just they felt, but their families!  I mean, how would you feel if you knew that a family member was going on a trip and not only might not come back, but could just be lost in the universe?  That still blows my mind.

Anyway, back to that evening, July 20, 1969.  Ever since we heard the astronauts say, "The lunar module has landed," everyone was holding their breath.  Because even though we were seeing it, was it really possible that people had actually landed on the moon and would be walking on it??  It was almost too much to comprehend.

And then it actually happened!

OMG you could SEE it happening right when it did!!  Amazing.  From that moment on, Neil Armstrong was the one everyone wanted to meet.  Shortly after, he was joined by Buzz Aldrin, and they placed an American flag on the moon.

Do you remember this?  The black-and-white, blurry yet completely clear images of one of the most amazing feats ever?  I remember my dad saying, "This is one of the greatest things we will ever see."  And you know, I think - at least for me, in my lifetime - he was right.  When I see these images, I'm right back in our living room, not knowing if it's OK to breathe in case something goes wrong.  Thinking that there would probably never be anything as exciting as that moment, ever.  

The moon.  Where Ralph Kramden was always threatening to send Alice.  Where, when you were little, you were told a man lived and would sometimes wink at you.  Was it in fact made of cheese?  How could we have possibly gone to the moon when it was so far away?  

Thinking about all of this today is bittersweet for me.  The images seemed only a tiny bit blurry at the time, but of course these days, people would be up in arms if that was as well as we got to see anything, much less such a momentous event!  My father was the one besides me who was the most excited and we had both been talking about it ad nauseum for weeks.  I'm pretty sure my mother and sister were excited too, but mostly looking forward to us finally talking about something else.  I'm also pretty sure the cat and dog didn't really care.  ;-)

Four months and three days later, my father died.  I remember thinking that at least he got to see a man walk on the moon, and that maybe on his heavenly journey, he would go past it himself, and it would make him happy.

It's weird the way memories work.  It's amazing we went to the moon.  And tomorrow, on the actual anniversary of when it happened, I hope that my parents are together, remembering it the same way - or maybe even better - than I am.

Have a lovely weekend.