This is a story about a tree. But it's also a story about friends and advice from friends, the passing of the seasons and a loss that led to treasures.  Maybe you have a life story about a favorite tree that you remember from your young years, or one that is in your life right now. It could be one that you walk past often, one you admire from afar, or one that lives on your property or nearby.

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There is a cherry tree in my front yard. It is very old. In the past it bloomed beautifully since it is a weeping cherry that bears no fruit but was overflowing with abundance in pale pink blossoms in the springtime.

Well my cherry tree died. There were theories as to why this happened.

An oak tree rested in my front yard for over 100 years. Not knowing any better, for many years I had grass planted right up to the trunk of the tree. It looked really nice to me as a mid-westerner. But little did I know that this was a western oak that likes it very dry except in the winter when it soaks up the winter rains. I watered that lawn faithfully every week, but the tree didn't like it. After 15 years, the tree started to look sick. My Portuguese neighbor, Victor, who walked around the neighborhood two or three times every day for his exercise in those days mentioned it to me initially. We both took a look. He had a good eye for these things, being a great gardener himself. I called the tree people who came over and said, sure enough, it had to come down. This is about 7 or 8 years ago.

It was a big event in the neighborhood when that oak came down. There are many oaks around here but each one is so massive, wide and great that it takes a crane and a crew to take them down, unless they come down during a whooping, walloping Pacific storm when the fierce wind howls, pulling and tearing at them and they fall. As I stood there with the tree guy before they began, I said, "are you sure it has to come down?" and he replied, "we won't know until we get inside, but it doesn't look good and I've seen a tree this size take down a 2 story home."  His remark convinced me and sure enough when it came down, you could see the entire trunk was decayed. That winter the storms were bolder and more fierce than ever and as I sat inside with a cozy fire in the fireplace I was happy that I didn't feel threatened that a tree could come crashing into my home.

Well, the other side of that is that the cherry tree had been shaded all those years by that oak. It never had to bear the brunt of the blazing summer sun. There it grew, peacefully in the shade, its delicate sprays of willowy branches filling up with leaves in the springtime after it bloomed, right outside the kitchen window.

Over time, without the protection of the oak, it started to wilt in the summer. It started to lose its leaves. I had tree people come. They put fertilizer into the trunk. I put the deep watering into the ground to water the roots two protect it. I was thinking that the summer sun blazing on that poor cherry was killing it.

Also mushrooms started coming to my yard every spring, large clumps of mushrooms. My neighbor John said it's from the roots of the oak rotting. Wherever those mushrooms sprout up, they do damage to the roots of the plants that they grow upon. There were many that sprouted up at the base of the cherry tree over the years.

The cherry tree was sadder and sadder every year. Last year was the final year that it held any blossoms. I felt that the shade of the oak was the reason that it just couldn't carry on any more. My neighbor, John, thinks it was the oak fungus. But either way, the tree was so sad it stood there in the yard bare of any leaves because I couldn't bear to cut it down. At the same time, coming home to it was not good either because after awhile, well, there was this dead tree front and center in my yard.

What to do? Thing of it is that the trunk is beautiful to me. It is all gnarled and wonderful with this white-birch-y feeling to it. And it is so pretty to see out the window.



John and I considered the situation. He said he would take it down if he could have the wood to make something out of it. "It's a deal," I said.

One Saturday when I was out, he took it down. I didn't know he was going to do it right then, but it was OK, I knew he was going to do it some time soon and that I might or might not be home. I came home and sure enough it was gone. Just the trunk remained.

Actually I was glad to not see the dead tree there in the front yard.

I caught up with John later that day and saw the logs from the tree. He said there wasn't really anything much good to make anything out of because it was so rotted. He walked over with me and showed me how the entire center of the trunk was rotted. But we talked about it and that trunk will still stand there for quite awhile like that, I like to think.

My friend Eleanor comes to stay at my house sometimes, she retired to Fort Bragg up the coast but she used to live here. She's an artist. She did the book cover for our first book on TellOurLifeStories.com and it's available on blurb.com.

Eleanor came to visit and I was telling her that I didn't know what should go on the trunk. It seemed like it needed something. At first I thought a birdbath. Eleanor said, "I think it needs a birdhouse."

Lo and behold, the next time Eleanor came to visit, she brought me a birdhouse that she made out of 100-year-old barnwood. It is the most beautiful birdhouse you would want to see. It is tall and it is absolutely perfect on that trunk. Everyone remarks about it. "Great birdhouse," they say. I tell them I can give them Eleanor's number and she could make them one, since I want to promote her art career.



Then, much to my great surprise, John posted a picture on Facebook of something he made out of the cherry tree. How beautiful was that? And out of my cherry tree! What an artist John is too! The cherry tree grows art! Who knew.



Well John also made spoons out of the tree. He left them on my kitchen table when I went to Wisconsin for Christmas. I didn't see them till he picked me up at the airporter when I returned. There they were on my kitchen table in a brown paper bag, along with a beautiful little cherrywood box. I didn't even find them till several hours after I returned home that evening. I called over there right away. 



So the cherry tree is gone, but treasures remain.

You might have a life story about some recipe you tried or a food that you love and that could have stories associated with it. M.F.K.Fisher launched a writing career combining recipes with stories. We all have meals that we love and they are enlivened and enhanced when we share them with others. When someone comes over when I have a meal and they ask for the recipe, I am always happy and take it as a compliment.

I posted a story recently, titled "Comparing" that mentioned an event at my church, Fairfax Community Church, where we celebrated the ordination and installation of a new minister who is a church member. She will be shining in her new role as the director of admissions for the seminary that lives in our town. It is a perfect fit for her. She has always been so interested and encouraging of others and has been a warm presence in our community. She's traveled a path that took her 9 years to get to this place and so it was, as you can imagine a big celebration. Her family was here from West Virginia and friends from there and our little church was filled up with all that joy. My friend Nancy and her husband Dean orchestrated the food for the event which patiently waited for us in the back of the room while the service was going on.

My contribution was two platters of lemon cookies. I found a recipe for them during the week on cooks.com and Nancy asked for cookies from scratch. She was very specific in her requests for what she wanted us to bring.

Below is the recipe with a picture of the ones that I saved for me.

1 cup butter, softened
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 (14 ounce) can EAGLE BRAND® Sweetened Condensed Milk (NOT evaporated milk)
1/4 cup lemon juice
2 tablespoons grated lemon rind
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
5 cups all-purpose flour
4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon salt

Lemon Icing:

1 1/2 cups confectioners' sugar
2 tablespoons water
1 tablespoon lemon juice

In a large bowl, cream butter and sugar. Add eggs, EAGLE BRAND®, lemon juice, lemon rind and vanilla; mix until smooth. In another bowl, combine flour, baking powder and salt. Add to creamed mixture; mix well. Divide dough into 3 balls. Wrap in plastic and refrigerate at least 4 hours. Preheat oven to 350°F.

On lightly floured surface, roll each ball out to 1/4-inch thickness and cut into desired shapes. Bake 10 to 12 minutes. Cool on wire rack. Garnish with Lemon Drizzle (optional). Store leftovers covered at room temperature. Lemon Icing: Combine confectioners' sugar, water and lemon juice; mix well. Drizzle over cooled cookies.

Let me know how they turned out.

Well, it is true that interesting and funny things can happen at work.

Working in a large corporation of course there are the usual turf wars and power struggles. Fortunately I am not in management and so not involved in that, but my environment is highly competitive and we always need to stay on top of things. I was talking to my friend Thomas yesterday on the phone of course. I never see the people I work directly with, they are all in other cities. He is in Minneapolis. We were commiserating about some of the uncertainty of some directions. For instance, he now seemingly reports to two different people, so how do you do that? Anyway, he said, "they have a saying in my native country, Kenya. The saying goes, 'when the elephants fight, it is the grass that suffers." He said, "I am the grass." I laughed, it was so true because I totally agreed with him. "Yes! I am the grass, too," I said.

Now don't get me wrong, management may not figure things out right away, but we are so swamped with work that I am not concerned about a layoff, it is my overflowing plate and the way that I am not sure how things will fall out that I wonder about. But overall I really like all the people and know it will fall out one way or the other. Steady as she goes, so they say. Keep plugging away, head's down.

In another group that I work with, these are a group of guys. They're are older, and sometimes I wonder if wiser or just wise guys. We meet twice a week and have for some years now, the same group, and so we've gotten to know each other. "It's not the same when Margaret isn't here," said one manager. I am their foil. I laugh at their jokes, but that is only because I think they are funny. Sometimes I just say, "time to move on." If they are entering dangerous guy territory. I am the only woman in the conversation.

One time I came into the meeting, again by phone because we don't see each other, although I have met them all by this time. I said, "I am here." Brad said, "life is complete."

They were talking about New Year's resolutions the other day. Well Kyle is going to be a kinder, gentler Kyle. Ha!! And Brad is going to be more accepting of change. Ha! Again. But they maintain that you only have to keep a New Year's resolution for 3 months. It must be a new rule.

I told them that I found an old mixmaster when I was clearing out my Mom's house. Brad said, "Margaret, you really live on the wild side, don't you."

And so it continues.

I also work with engineers from India. They are very polite. They instant message me and say, "may I have a moment of you please?" Sometimes in meetings when I want to identify everyone I have trouble with all the Indian names. Of course all of this is on the phone and never in person.

It would be fun to actually meet these people that I work with all the time. Many I've worked with for several years and never met. I remember one woman. I thought to myself, "I bet she's a blonde." I don't know why I thought that, but sure enough, she is a blonde.

One time they did fly all of us to Arizona who do this same function that I do. Well we had a ball meeting each other because we are in these meetings together several times a week. They gave us toys that we could throw at each other during the meeting. And we did throw them too,especially at Kent, but we have to get on his case, he deserves it. And he dishes it out too. 

 

Don't do it is what I say.

Don't compare yourself to anyone.

I found myself reading the Sunday newspaper this week and there was an article about this woman who started out a failure as a waitress and other occupations. But she went on to found an arts and lecture series and it has become wildly successful.

I found myself, saying to myself, "now, what have you done? Look at what she's done with her life, she's been able to be a positive influence on so many lives through her work. What have you done with your life."

BUT, comparing myself puts me in a place that isn't good. Right after I read that, I was getting cookies ready that I had baked the night before. I used lemons from my lemon bush and it took hours to make these from scratch. I found a great recipe on the internet at cooks.com. They turned out good too. They were not too sweet and nice and crunchy and I frosted them and then put colorful sugar sprinkles on them. I thought to myself, "I bet she doesn't have time to bake cookies. I bet she's too busy meeting famous people."

BUT, then I went to church with the cookies and it was a service to ordain one of our members into ministry. It was such a touching service. I had a short part because I'm the moderator at our church. And so many people from her family were there and had come across the country to be there with her. I met her Mom who was the sweetest person you would want to meet. And she had friends from the seminary speak and they talked eloquently about challenges she would face to do the right thing even when the going got tough. I was inspired. And they had music, nice old church hymns, like "I'll fly away," and "I saw the light," and when I left to go home so that I could call my Mom at the right time for her, it felt so good to be in that room full of people who were sharing something so special.

Then I forgot about the founder of the arts and lecture series.

It just felt good to be with the friends that I know, doing the things I enjoy the best way I can know to do them.

Hi everyone,
I am writing this blog post as a letter to all of you who are reading. Let us make a book for Christmas next year. Let us think of stories to fill it. We can begin now and write our stories as they come to us.

Right now we are marching through the winter months. The holidays have passed and we are in the throes of midwinter. The nights are dark and deep and we light the lights and turn on more heat as we gather around for dinner. It is a quiet time in friendship.

What are the stories to tell in this time? Often, since we are cooped up, we become aware of all the clutter that we may perceive around us. Maybe it hasn't been bothersome over the past year, but now, in a more confined attitude, maybe we look around and say "begone!" Maybe it's time to clear out the closets and the drawers and reorganize things. And if it is, then what treasures are uncovered there?

Aha! perhaps uncovering those treasures lends itself to some stories. "Why did I keep hanging onto that anyway," for example.

I, for one, sent two boxes of things from clearing out my mom/grandma's home. I see the boxes in the hall. I've not touched them yet. And already I am asking myself, why did I do this? What am I going to do with all these things? BUT! There are treasures there, I know, because I packed those boxes myself of course.

At home two days later.

It is a quiet night. I ride my stationary bike, reading the paper. I talk to Carol and Rick, carpeting or hardwood, how is Mom. “She fell again,” said Carol. “She is so frail,” I said. We agreed.

Later I work on my blog. I sit at the kitchen table. My favorite music of all, Christmas music, plays, instrumental, no words, it is the First Noel on the guitar but with a symphony behind. Earlier they played the Carol of the Bells and I thought of Christmas in Franklin, TN.

I miss them all. I am back in California. The weather is mild, I took a walk today after working at home. But tonite I am having the familiar time of Christmas at home. I have been away from home for a month and now I am here. I never put up a Christmas tree because I was going to be gone. My neighbor Peg, said to my neighbor John, (John, who picked me up from the airporter bus told me this), Peg said, “There is supposed to be a tree there in the window, right there,” and she pointed to the corner window. My house is on a corner facing two streets.

This is the first time in 30 years that there has not been a Christmas Tree blooming there.
I love my neighbors and my neighborhood. It is a gentle neighborhood. It agrees with me.  I am glad to be at home. I so love this time of the year. Really, the quiet moments after Christmas pile on each other, one over the other. “In fields as they lay….. keeping their sheep…”

I am so grateful, it spills out after a month away from this place, looking at the familiar pictures on the walls, hearing the familiar carols and realizing how much I missed them when I put on those CDs. The music touches the corners of the rooms, it rings into the moments. I light candles, always green candles of abundance. I laid my new tablecloth, an extravagance I got on sale before I left. It has all my favorite colors. Soon Tim and Carol will be here for my New Year’s Eve dinner of cracked crab.

But now it is this precious moment with the Christmas music playing and the candles lit and I am home in California.

Thursday passed at work and as it turned out Rick and Kathy didn’t want to come on Friday for my actual birthday. The birthday dinner I had planned was for Saturday night. Kathy had to pack for a trip on Saturday to Orlando and so she was going to miss my birthday party. Rick wanted to clean house because after my birthday dinner we were all going over there to watch the Wisconsin Badgers play Michigan State in the competition for the Rose Bowl. Carol and Dave didn’t want to come because Dave had to work on Saturday morning and it’s a far drive for them to Tosa from Hartland.

As it turned out Jim came through and made my birthday really special! I met him and his new girlfriend Bridgett at Café Hollander. It was so nice. Jim got me a beautiful sweater and Bridgett brought a wonderful cheesecake from this special place. It was absolutely delicious. Plus we got to have a Wisconsin fish fry. It was a really nice evening and Bridgett was so funny. I was laughing so hard I could fall off my chair. She told stories about her parents. They owned the smalltown newspapers in the Hartland area, all the weekly papers. Well her Dad got into that when it was just farms there and the area is now very upscale suburban. The Milwaukee Journal bought him out some years ago and they got a retirement place in Florida where they go part of the year. He still writes a column though. Actually he writes several columns. One is Dan the Answer Man, where he asks a question and then comes up with the answer. Another one is something like, “things that annoy me. “ Bridgett says her siblings are always telling him, “Dad, you can’t write about cocktails all the time.” Apparently one of the things that annoys him is going to a restaurant where they don’t make his cocktail strong enough. Bridgett is the 5th of 8 siblings and they had some fun times as kids growing up and helping with the newspaper, handing it out at the grocery store and stuffing it with the advertisements and doing all the things to keep it going and build it up. Her dad calls the computer, the confuser. He doesn’t have a laptop, he ships his hard drive and monitor to Florida where he and his wife spend the winter months and then ships it back when he returns. Forget about email, it is all he can do to FAX his stories and columns to the newspaper for publication.


Bridgett, Jim and I and the cake!

My cousin Mary had offered to help me with the attic on Saturday and she came by the hotel about 9:30 and we set out for Grandma’s house. We hoped to find treasures but turned up yet more dishes and revere ware. We gave away the pots and pans with matching lids and put the rest into the trash pile. Two large and growing piles in the garage, one for Goodwill and one for trash. We wrapped it up and had submarine sandwiches with Jim and Rick, then got ready to go. There was a brand new grill still in the box, a little Weber and I said Mary could have that for her daughters Sarah and Libby for their new apartment in Minneapolis. She decided to give it to them for Christmas.

Then Mary and I stopped to visit with Mom. I took more bags of stuff, clothes and some odds and ends. There’s a small platform outside each door where each person can display something festive in front of their room. So now Mom has some choices of things to display. Mary helped her adjust the heat in her room. We both tried again to persuade her to come to my birthday party. One of us could bring her back. But she doesn't like to be out in a car driving at night in the cold. She really didn't want to go. Finally we accepted that.

Then it was time to leave to get ready for the big dinner. When I got back to the hotel, I decided to go and work out for awhile. I didn’t leave much time to get ready and was rushing then. But I got over to Rick’s and went with him to Jake’s. The restaurant sits on a hill and it’s so cozy inside. We gathered together, the 7 of us in the bar first. I opened some gifts and cards.

I had worked with a fellow by the name of Dan on the setup. We got the table by the big stone fireplace, and it was a real fire. The table was laid out for us with a beautifully printed menu by each place. The choices were duck, salmon or steak all served with potatoes and asparagus. Dan was wonderful and when we arrived I also selected some wine for the table, a bottle of red and a bottle of white.


Mary, Dave and Carol

I was right next to the fire and someone came and tended it periodically Jim said who was on my right, but I never noticed because I was so enjoying seeing all seven of us there together, Carol and Dave, Rick and we missed Kathy, Mary and Larry and Jim and I. We had toasts to me for my 60th birthday. I had the duck and Jim had duck too and so did Dave. It was just ever so crispy on the outside and tender and moist inside.


Carol and Jim

Carol brought cake that Dan put in a refrigerator when she got there and they brought it out and all sang happy birthday. It was a dream birthday party and I enjoyed treating everyone, it was a big thank you from me for all the times I’ve been to their homes for holidays and all the times they’ve put me up and done the entertaining. It felt good to do.

Then we went to Rick’s and the Badgers were winning by halftime when each of us petered out and went on home. I turned on the game after I got ready in my PJs and tucked into bed and the minute it was over and the Badgers won to go to the Rose Bowl, I turned it off and was asleep in seconds.

Arrived here on the 23rd. Mom went into assisted living just a couple of weeks before that right after her hospital stay. She needed to do this and she realizes that. She is in a good place. Even Carol says so and Carol so wanted her to be closer out there on the west side. But Mom is right down the hall from the chapel where they have Mass and she can just peek out her door and see if the people are assembling. It’s just the right environment for her. And she already gained 5 pounds in the first week because she is eating now. At home taking care of herself, she would forget to eat, not a good thing.

The next day, Thanksgiving morning, I went to see Mom.  Carol made her room look like a miniature Grandma’s house. Her paintings are hanging on the wall and it feels like the living room at Grandma’s, a miniature version. She has a studio. We talked, it was good to see her in such a good place. I asked her if she wanted to go out to Carol’s with me for Thanksgiving dinner. I tried to persuade her. We went out to the entrance and she saw a woman that she knows and introduced me. She saw the priest. He said, “Oh Grace, you are one of our new residents, how long have you been her?” Mom thought about it for a minute and then she said, “Oh about two years.” The priest laughed and I laughed with him. Then he hugged Mom and said, “dear Grace, we are glad to have you.”  I said, “I am trying to persuade her to go to my sister’s for Thanksgiving.” He said, “Grace you should go,” and Mom said, “no, I don’t think so.”We chatted some more and then I left her to go out to Carol’s.

Had a wonderful Thanksgiving with Carol’s in-laws, the Schmitts. They are a fun group. Carol had a table all laid out for over 20 people and my cousin Mary and her husband Larry and their daughter Sarah came by too. It was a really fun party. As they always do, we went around the table and said what we are thankful for. It is such a nice tradition. Of course the Schmitts are so funny and say some funny things too, but overall everyone has something nice to say about what they are thankful for. After dinner, Barb, Dave’s brother Dan’s wife and Carol and I did dishes for nearly three hours. It was quite a job cleaning up. But we made it fun and it all went by and pretty soon everything was all cleaned up. I stayed overnight. Dave left to go hunting early the next morning and Carol and I knew we’d begin the project to clear out Mom’s flat in order to rent it out.
 
I got over there later in the morning. Rick and Jim were already there taping one of the two bedrooms to get ready for painting. They decided that only the two bedrooms needed to be painted because the rest of the flat had been painted not long ago. The place was all a mess. I’d not seen it before. It was a shock knowing that Mom would never be back there. But I walked through with Jim and took a look around assessing the situation. Where to begin? Well, loving dishes the way that I do, I right away went for the cabinets in the dining room, home of the dishes. I went to Pick ‘n Save and got some boxes and there were some newspapers there and I started in, one dish at a time. I knew Carol wanted Grandma’s dishes with the poppies on them so I put them aside. Then I asked Jim about some other ones. He said he’d take the blue ones for everyday dishes and the white ones, but he didn’t want the pink ones.

And so it began. I knelt on the floor and started in, dish by dish I wrapped them up. There must have been four sets of dishes. I am a woman after my Grandma’s heart, I have as many myself. I never met a set of dishes I didn’t like. Jim and Rick carried on in the bedroom and made a lot of progress on the painting. Then Carol came. Like a tornado, she swept into the flat and looked around at the mess. She swiped her hand along the top of the window frame after removing the curtains in the living room, “dust,” she said, “look at all that dust.”

I told her to go and wash her hands immediately. She is allergic to dust. She didn’t do that and by the time a couple of hours had passed, she nearly couldn’t even open her eyes. We ate a little bit of the salad that she brought and had a taste of wine. She was very upset because she really wanted to help, but it was no use. She could barely see. She decided to go to Jim’s because he is closer than for her to have to drive 45 minutes back to her home. They called me from there, and she was a little better.

I continued on. I stayed the night there and worked till midnight. It felt dark and lonely but I made progress. When I tackled the top cabinets in the kitchen I found an old mixmaster from probably the 1930’s. Wow, I plugged it in and it worked! It was 10 p.m. and no one to show it to, but what an old treasure.  I couldn’t put it in either the trash heap or the Goodwill heap either.

Things were slowly getting organized. The kitchen was an absolute disaster. But slowly, slowly it was getting better. The next day, Saturday, I was going to my cousin Mary’s for dinner. I got up that morning and took a shower and scrubbed the soap dish in the shower. It felt cold and lonesome in that house in the morning, but soon Rick came over and so did Jim. I continued packing stuff up and dragging large bags to either the Goodwill pile or the trash pile in the garage. It was cold out but as I went back and forth it didn't bother me to not put on a coat. I was just tackling it bit by bit, closets, knicknacks, shelves, cupboards in the kitchen, pots and pans. We had leftover submarine sandwiches for lunch and they were well into painting the second bedroom by the end of the day. .

I stopped by Mom’s and brought her the Nativity and her Christmas tree. I took the TV off of the end table because she doesn’t watch it anyway. I put the tree on there and turned on the lights. It was so cheery there in her room.

While I was in Wisconsin, I had the opportunity to visit my niece and her husband in Nashville. I arrived on a Thursday and Katie took Friday off. She said that she had a surprise for my birthday.

There I was in Nashville with Katie picking me up at the airport! We went home to her cozy house in Franklin TN. I saw Lola and Brian and we had some soup for supper. When I got upstairs to my room, I saw a present sitting on the bed. I took it back downstairs to Katie and Brian and said, “look what I found.” It turned out to be tickets to see the Rockette’s at the Grand Ole Opry House for Friday night! What a great surprise birthday present!

The next morning when I got up about 8, Katie took the day off and she already had a beef stew melting away in the slow cooker.  Lola was trotting around keeping us company and Katie wanted to try baking a red velvet cake. She had Brian’s Grandma, Mama Ruby’s recipe for the frosting and she wanted to try it out. It’s Brian’s favorite cake.

We baked the cake and hung out around the house for a bit having some breakfast and coffee. Then we ventured out to take a drive around. We went to Macy’s at the mall and I got a Christmas present for my mother there and used the gift certificate that Carol gave me for my birthday on a sweater. When we got back to Katie and Brian’s the cake was cool and ready to be frosted and the cream cheese was softened. We didn’t use all the powered sugar that the recipe called for and it tasted great. I explained that when you spread the frosting on the cake you shouldn’t touch the cake because then it will pull up and get all mixed up with the frosting. The cake looked great!

Soon it was time to make the noodles for the beef stew and then Katie and I ate as Brian was not home from work yet and we wanted to be early for the show. The cake was wonderful. The frosting was perfect. I would make that cake at home too, I got the recipe for the frosting.  I wore my new sweater and we got all ready to go out to the Grand Ole Opry. It’s in its own complex in Nashville, not downtown. Nashville is spread out and it took us almost an hour to get over there or maybe it was 30 minutes, I can’t remember. It was frosty out and we found a good parking spot and walked over. We were early and had time to take pictures out front. A clueless person took some pictures that weren’t very good and then we found another person who knew what he was doing. He was there with his girlfriend and we took his picture and he took ours in front of the guitars that are out front. It’s a quaint looking building and it was all lit up for Christmas. We checked through the gate and went into the lobby, it was all decorated with lights and garland and red ribbons. We had our picture taken by the enormous Christmas tree. The gift shop was full of cowboy stuff, but we managed to find some Christmas ornaments that we bought. We also bought water and some popcorn and went to our seats. They were way high up in the last row so we had a bird’s eye view of the show and could see all the choreography. Santa was in the show and the Rockette’s were fabulous dancers. It was a nice evening and we didn’t have any trouble getting home.


Katie and I at the Grand Ole Opry to see the Rockettes

The next morning, we visited their next door neighbor Joanne, a really nice woman. She has a pretty garden behind her home and helps Katie with gardening tips. I liked her right away, She had a lavender Christmas theme as that is her favorite color and her living room looked elegant with a decoration on the mantle with lavender ornaments. Her dog looks just like Lola too. For Christmas, her son is a chef and she has to wait to see when they will have their celebration, but it will be at her home and, from what she was saying, it sounds like she is a great cook.

We went to the Dickens Fair in Franklin and heard bell ringers in period costumes play the Carol of the Bells which was a real treat.


Playing Carol of the Bells... amazing.

We went back to their house and had a chance to relax and then went for dinner in Franklin and had a variety of things including shrimp.  On Sunday Brian made eggs over easy and I was impressed because I’ve never attempted it! They turned out great too. We drove into Nashville to see the city and took a walk down the main street and had some pictures by the river there.  It was a nice day. We also found the American Pickers store but it was somewhat of a disappointment. The show is so interesting with all the stuff they find. But they didn’t have really must stuff for sale there,  they were really trying to sell T-shirts instead. But they had some old things, like a dressmaker’s dummy cage type thing all draped up with an American flag that was nearly in shreds it was so old. It was an interesting place to walk around, but smaller than we expected.


Christmas in Franklin, TN

There comes a time when our parents get older and they need our care. The roles are reversed and we find ourselves making decisions one at a time. In my case this happened over quite some time. I am out in California and my two brothers Rick and Jim and my sister Carol are all in the Milwaukee area. Every Sunday for many years I've talked to my Mom on the phone for about an hour. I am writing some stories about our family journey with Mom. Maybe this will prompt you to remember or think of some stories of your own about your family or a parent who is getting older.

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For many years, my brothers Rick and Jim and my sister Carol have been going to our Mom's to help her and to be her companions. Since my Dad died in 1988, Rick and Jim have alternated Saturdays faithfully. Every Saturday they would go there and have lunch with her and do chores around the house, mowing the lawn in the summer, raking the leaves in the fall and shoveling the snow in the wintertime. After she gave up her car, their time commitment on Saturday increased because then they would drive her to her local Pick 'N Save to shop with her too. Mom is a slow shopper, walking down all the aisles to see what she might need.  And then they needed to go to the library with her in case she wanted more books for the week, and then if she needed bloodwork for the month, they took her over to take care of that. Meanwhile, Carol was coming either on Sunday or another day of the week whenever she could and taking Mom to the eye doctor or the hearing doctor or another doctor, go to the library, weed the garden or take Mom to the nursery to get new plants and have an outing. I have called Mom every Sunday evening for many years.

Our conversation always starts out something like this, "can you hear me now?" I say. "Wait just a minute," she says, "I'll get my hearing aid." Minutes pass. She returns, "Can you hear me," she says. "Yes, I say, can you hear me now?" "I'll put it in the other ear," she says. "I don't know why it worked last time," she says. "Can you hear me?" she says. "Yes," I say, "Can you hear me?" Finally, "Yes, I can hear you," she says. But she never hears me very well and I have to shout at her mostly. But she catches some words. "How's your garden," I say. "It's fine," she says, "Carol came and did some weeding and she did such a good job, it looks so nice. And Rick did such a good job on the hedge yesterday. There's new buds on that climbing plant by the garage, I don't remember the name of it," she says. "It's a clematis," I tell her. "Oh yes," she says, "it blooms purple." She talks to me for an hour and I listen to her. I ask her questions, like "Did Rick comet his week or Jim? What did you do?" and "What did you have for supper?" "Oh I had some soup that Carol made, she's a good cook."

Remembering our conversations while Mom was living at the home where she grew up, my Grandma's house, I pictured her in the kitchen there looking out the kitchen window at the garden where the clematis that Carol planted grows up the trellis every summer.