MAJOR!!!!! Catchup... in These titles mean nothing.

NoJoMo Day Eleven: Most scared

Fright and embarrassment go together for me. I’m scared and embarrassed when I do something wrong.

• make a driving mistake
• make a work mistake
• make a general life mistake

There are several phases to mistakes.

• the blissful state of being unaware
• the suspicion that something is wrong
• the checking
• the determination or judgement or consequences
• the acceptance
• the - God almighty, I hope I’ve learned something from this.

NoJoMo Day Twelve: Most fun

Conversation with an agreeable person about agreeable topics. I like to hear myself talk. I like hearing other people talk. I like the exchange of ideas. I like having my certainties jogged a bit. I like surprises.

NoJoMo Day Thirteen: Biggest surprise

The day the Keenans came to visit. The father of the family was celebrating an important birthday. He had been born in this house in the fall of 1936. He and his descendents came to visit. I knew they were coming but I surprised at the number of cars, of people, of kids and at their interest in the home place. It was quite a day.

NoJoMo Day Fourteen: Biggest disappointment

Is probably in myself. I should have gone to college. I like to think that if we hadn’t moved back home, I eventually would have gone back to school and ‘made something of myself.’

NoJoMo Day Fifteen: Saddest memory

My first conventionally saddest memory is sitting in the funeral home for two nights within a dozen feet of my mother in her casket.

My second conventionally saddest memory is after my husband went to the doctor and was told what was wrong. Then we knew he was dying.

NoJoMo Day Sixteen: What makes me happy?

I’m happiest when I am fully alive in my life. I’m happiest when I am satisfied with who I am and what I have. I’m happiest on a simple, busy, good day. A day with some thoughts that take me beyond myself.

NoJoMo Day Seventeen: Anger

I am not a terribly angry person. I regret anger. I do not believe it is a legitimate emotion. If you don’t like something, fix it. If you can’t, then let it go. I guess I should have been an alcoholic. Oh well there’s always the next life.

NoJoMo Day Eighteen: Forgiveness

I don’t feel myself a victim very often or very much. I would rather ask forgiveness, than give it. I tend to think if you can put yourself in the other person’s shoes, you really see you have nothing to complain about. Surely you have nothing to forgive.

NoJoMo Day Nineteen: Overriding emotion

Ah. Emotion. My biggest, most common one, the one I wake up with and nurse through the day and then take back to bed with me. Is. Acceptance. I am who I am. I live this life. I am grateful. I only want to be left alone. Sure. I do.

NoJoMo Day Twenty: Things I did with my dad

I wanted to be just like my dad. I wanted to wear bib overalls and have shoes with hooks to wrap the laces around. I wanted a pocket watch to put in my bib pocket. I wanted a shoe string to tie the watch through the green embroidered buttonhole at the center of the bib.

I would watch him milk the cows by hand. I would lean against the barn wall and watch the cows and talk to him. I would tell him about the books I was reading.

I would listen to my dad’s stories. He was a master story teller. After meals were always story times. The dishes stayed on the table for a long time.

I would hold grain sacks while he shoveled oats into them. I would watch him tie the sacks closed with a magic millers’ knot.

I would ride in the back seat when we went to town. I remember the struggle to get out of the valley when the roads were bad. There were big hills either way. One faced south so the sun might have melted some of the ice. That one had curves at the bottom so you couldn’t get a run for it. The other one faced north and never melted but it had a straight approach. I remember him taking chains off when we got to the highway.

NoJoMo Day Twenty-one: Things I did with my mother

My mother and I embroidered dish towels on winter nights. I was too left-handed for her to teach me to crochet.

I would stand at the edge of the sink and watch her clean chickens. She would reverently remove every organ and explain to me what it was. Chickens were chuck full of interesting things.

We would shop for clothes and it was hell on both sides. I was not able to say I didn’t like something in front of a store employee because I did not want to hurt their feelings. But when we got home I would tell my mother I didn’t like it.

I remember dresses though - ones we bought at Penneys or Grahams. I remember the design and the fabric and where I wore them. There are a few pictures around of me in my dresses.

Oh and piano lessons and recitals. I had to have and do them because my mother had not had the opportunity.

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Ok. After all that heavy lifting, let me show you a picture of something. Maybe a cat.

Yup that’s the Striped One, in his striped pajamas.

I’ll try to get the kittens to pose over the weekend.

And then here is my found shaker of salt.

Last updated November 23, 2014