FROM CHINA CABINET TO TOY CABINET

Growing up in Queens NY with  my 2 old grand pa's living with us I was pretty much left on my own to find ways to entertain myself. Having no siblings to annoy left me one less source of entertainment so my imagination was pretty well honed. I had tons of friends in the real world and even more in my head. But the one place where I was NOT allowed to play was in grand pa's china cabinet. I remember this particular piece of furniture standing in one of the two small bedrooms down stairs off the kitchen in our very tiny house. My father's father was blind so I guess he didn't mind that his tiny bedroom was packed wall to wall with furniture. It probably made it easier for him to maneuver . No spaces to fall between.  After he died his room became the "dining" room so the china cabinet just stayed where it was and his bed was replaced with a table.
The china cabinet, shown here:

   

has rounded glass panels that I expect would cost a small fortune to replace. Thus the reason every child in the family has been strictly forbidden to stay far far away from the china cabinet and to never never play ball in the house. At least that has been the rule for me and my children.  But now all that has changed! Grand ma now has grand children and they are free to do as they wish! In fact, today I spent the day cleaning out the antique china cabinet and putting all the plastic plates and cups and spoons and bowls into the cabinet along with the bells and little animals and toys that the kids play with every time they come. 

Great Grand Pa is rolling over in his grave! The china cabinet has become a toy chest!

HERE WE GO ROUND THE MULBERRY BUSH

Some days it just seems like I am going in circles. Some weeks it just seems I am going in circles. Some months it just seems I am going in circles. I think I am going in circles !
This seems to happen every time I try to deal with a government agency, a bank, a credit card company or an insurance company. What do they all have in common ?  "PRESS ONE FOR ENGLISH" Right there we are off on the wrong foot.  I take offense with that! I live in AMERICA ! My NATIVE LANGUAGE IS ENGLISH . . . Why must I  press anything to speak my native language ????????
Next I must listen to a menu that exceeds that of a 5 star restaurant. The choices are given so rapidly and are so obscure that they do not fit my need so I must listen to them six times before I decide none of them are what I want so I must then press the star key which then asks me to enter my 16 digit account number which is what I am calling about in the first place. ARAUUGGHHHGHHHHHHH !!

In the past three days I have spent a total of 3 hours and 20 minutes on the phone with Capitol One credit card company. I still have not resolved the issue. I am to the point of banging my head on the desk. I really though I had gotten the problem fixed this morning when a lovely young lady sounded so confident and simply said,"Oh, no problem, just do this, this and this, I'll hold."  I did that, that and that and voila, I was into the account, wham, bam, thank you mam! The girl hung up and it wasn't until tonight that the account I had gotten into was my no longer existent car loan that apparently Capitol One still thinks I have.  BACK TO SQUARE ONE !   If only I could walk into a bank and grab someone by the throat and shake them I would feel OH so much better.

It is probably good it is Friday night and I will have 2 whole days to work this out before getting on the phone again Monday morning. What are the chances I will even remember what the heck I was doing by Monday morning?

I WILL REMAIN CALMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

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OOPS !   I AM NOT CALM !

It is my own fault. I am trying to be efficient. I am trying to put my ducks in a row. I am trying to prove that I can function as an older, independent widowed woman.  IT AIN'T WORKING !

Tonight's raging battle with the banks and credit card company could have gone so much easier if I had never sat down at the computer in the first place. I could have just put my comfy clothes on, filled a huge bowl with ice cream and fudge syrup and whip cream and nuts and sat on the couch and watched a totally stupid movie and been in hog fat heaven but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I have to be dieting and so rather than eating I am being PRODUCTIVE ! I decided to work on my finances and see just where I was with money. How much was coming IN and how much was going OUT. no no no no no no no no no no  . . . .  there really needs to be a little something that drops from the ceiling when I decide these things. Something that would fall from the ceiling and smash  me in the head rendering me unconscious for at least a month. I swear I am my own worst enemy.

So I sit down at the computer and check my one bank. OH LOOK, all that nice money just sitting there. OH LOOK, all that nice money slowly draining out of the nice bank account and NOTHING going back in. Now the visions of me in a Publix deli hat and apron are becoming quite vivid. (I look pretty good in green. I could probably pull it off. Running the carts out to the cars would be tougher, all that walking might bother my knees, but then the exercise would be good. I doubt I'd do well as a cashier, I'd get talking too much. Maybe the bakery?)  Then I see a charge for $12.95 going out every month and I can't figure out what it's for. No phone number, no name, nothing. But the bank web site says I can call them up till 10 PM so I call. Nice young man gives me a phone number which I will call tomorrow. From there I move on to bank number two.  Why do I have 2 banks ? I have ALWAYS wondered that myself ? Like one isn't good enough ? (NO!) I have so much money I need to divide it between 2 banks? (NO!) I couldn't make up my mind which bank I like better? Actually now I have 3 banks if you consider the bank that holds my mortgage. It gets quite confusing as to which account at which bank gets which income check at what time of the month. (Don't let this throw you, there are only 2 sources of income and only 4 accounts but I still have trouble remembering who's on first!)
So now I have figured out what is coming, what is going, when things are coming and when things are going out and because I haven't stretched my brain quite far enough I decide to now venture into the very murky waters of . . . .  (a little drum roll here) . . . . THE CREDIT CARD ! . . . .     And this is where I lost it.   You see, I called the credit card company some time in the recent past to alert them to the fact that the major card holder had passed away. (Ger thought he was the major credit card holder because he WAS the one with all the money so his name came first on everything. Who USED the card the most is another matter entirely.) After going through many condolences Capitol One assured me I was now the major credit card holder, Gerard's name would be removed from all further billing and all was well with the world. UNTIL I tried to log into my Cap One on line account tonight. It is now too late to call anyone, probably a good thing. I shall call them in the morning and get this all straightened out, of that I am sure. Capitol One has been great and I would not have any other card in my wallet but I sure was pissed at them tonight.

Thank Heavens for this blog!

A STORY ABOUT GERRY

About 4 or 5 years ago Ger and I went to Paris with his sister Ann Marie. We were only there about three days and stayed at a very small hotel near the North train station. The hotel was located on a rather busy avenue and on the rare occasions that we were in our rooms Gerry could be found standing at the window of our room watching the people and cars out on the street. (Anyone who knew Ger knew he was a people watcher of the highest degree. Often to the point of having dinner out together and never saying a word for the entire meal because he was so busy watching other people.)
Across the Avenue from our hotel there were some shops with a sidewalk in front of them and a phone booth and a large old tree between the sidewalk and the street. The phone booth wasn't anything like the ones we are used to but rather had six glass sides and was divided into compartments. Living in two or three of these compartments was a homeless gentleman that fascinated Gerry.

Ann Marie and I were unaware of this interest of Gerard's until late in the last day. On our last evening as we sat in our room chatting about our plans for leaving the next morning Ger was, as usual standing at the window looking out. We asked him what was so interesting and he began to tell us about the homeless man living in the phone booth. He said how he had been watching him for the past two and a half days. How the man would leave the booth in the morning and take his things with him but return each evening and settle down for the night. Ger said the man seemed to bring food back with him at night and eat in the phone booth, then wrap himself in blankets, (it was Spring so the weather was mild) and sleep the night. Ger also said he had watched the man get up just this morning, come out of the phone booth, walk to the tree. drop his pants, squat next to the tree and poop! Ann Marie and I were "shocked" yet laughing at the thought and telling Ger he should have called us! All this drama going on just across the avenue from us and Gerry watching it all.

The next morning it was time to go. Our bags were packed and we checked out, ready to walk the couple of blocks to the train station. As we stepped out of the hotel Gerry put his bag down and told us to wait a minute. Ann Marie and I looked at each other wondering what the heck he was doing. But as we had come to know after all these years of traveling together . . . DON'T ASK !  We put our bags down and watched as Ger ran across the 4 wide lanes of the Avenue and right up to the phone booth where the homeless man was sleeping. Ger banged on the glass door but the man just waved him away. Ger banged again and showed him something in his hand. The homeless man slowly got to his feet and cautiously opened the door to the booth. Gerry handed him something, shook his hand and ran back across the street to us. There he picked up his bag and started walking. Ann Marie and I stood there staring after him with our mouths hanging open. When we caught up with him we asked him what he had done. Gerard's response :  "Well, I figured we are leaving Paris and probably won't ever get here again so I gave him all the money we had left over."

A year later Ger was diagnosed with cancer and two and a half years after that he was gone. We never got back to Paris. But he sure did leave a piece of himself there.

MY GOD WHISPERS

I am Catholic.  I am a cradle Catholic. You know, one of those Catholics who had no choice but to be Catholic. My parents were Catholic and so that's what I was. I never thought about it. Never thought about being anything else but Catholic. That was just how it was. I didn't know much about  my religion even though I could recite all the answers to the Baltimore Catechism that the nuns made us memorize. I could recite all the prayers I was supposed to know. I said my prayers every night like a good little Catholic girl. I went to mass every Sunday and religious education twice a week because I was one of the lucky ones who didn't go to Catholic school. (I don't think my parents could afford it.) My friends were mostly Catholic kids going to Catholic school. Then I went to college and mass just wasn't important any more and that's the way it stayed until I started dating a Catholic guy. We would talk a lot about religion in our lives. He was Italian so religion was really BIG in his life. He got me back to confession and mass. Then I met Ger and him being Brooklyn Irish Catholic . . . need I say any more.  I gave up A LOT for that man. But I got a lot in return. The return of my religion was one big thing but I had yet to find FAITH.  That didn't come until years and years later.

Faith is something that grows slowly. So slowly that you don't even realize it is growing. It is a quiet growth. No bells and whistles for me. Not fire works or explosions. Just whispers and tiny breaths of warmth.

I had a conversation with my daughter yesterday about her church. She and her husband come from different religious backgrounds. Keri had always had a very strong attachment to her religion. She always surprised me when we talked about religion and faith. Her depth of understanding and insight is well beyond her years. She and Steve are trying to find a place to worship for their family. They are looking for some place where their children will find God, learn to love the Lord and learn the power and love of God. Their latest venture has been to a large community church which is dynamic, loud, charismatic and powerful. GOD IS PRESENT FRONT AND CENTER !!!!  And yet . . .  in Keri's words, she and Steve just don't feel they belong. All the hype and noise still don't make God any closer to you. Sometimes you just need that same old familiar mass that repeats those same old familiar actions that you know in your heart really are bring GOD into your presence so he can whisper to you . . . "HEY CATH,  I LOVE YOU!"

I Love being Catholic.  My God whispers.

HEART BREAKING LOSS

You're reading about it or hearing about it in the news these days. . .  the two 14 year old boys from this area who are lost at sea. They went out in a small boat and have now been lost for 4 days. Horrible, terrible, heart wrenching, may God be with them and their families.

B U T                

I HAVE TO SAY THIS . . .

PARENTS OF THE WORLD . . . Your children are, to be perfectly blunt, CHILDREN !  There, I said it !!  CHILDREN,  CHILDREN,   CHILDREN   CHILDREN  CHILDREN !!!  And children, quite frankly are fucking STUPID !!!!!  And will remain stupid until they are OH, say, 70 !  And even then it is questionable.  Just look around you at some of the adults you know !

Seriously,  CHILDREN . . .  There is no specific age that a CHILD becomes an adult and NO amount of experience makes that child an adult before his time. Living with wolves does not make that child an adult at age 10.  Being brought up with apes in the jungle does not make that child an adult at age 12. There are hormones and chemicals and stuff that just don't kick in before age 30 so that human does not completely become a total product before well into their twenties and even then there are many many more life lessons that need learning before a child can be considered an adult. Not to mention the very simple factor of size, weight and strength to be able to handle the physical elements of life.

But we see it all the time.  What parent has not said, "OH my kid is way beyond his years. He can handle . . .". "My CHILD has been doing" such and such "forever". You know how everyone always has THE CHILD who is soooooooooooooo special and can handle anything so much better than any other kid around. I must have always been the exception to that rule. My pardon to my kids but I was always the parent saying, "Nah, my kids can't do that, they're spastic, dumb as dirt, too slow ..."  It saved us from a lot of embarrassment when it came time to put up or shut up.

Parents, wake up and realize that your kids aren't all that special in the scheme of the world. They ARE super special to you and they are very special in the eyes of God so lets keep them around for a while and let them be kids. Treat them as KIDS and don't put them in danger by allowing them to do things that KIDS should NOT be doing alone. There is plenty of water in Florida for kids to be out on without venturing out into the ocean. We pump our children up with the false belief that they are capable of thinking and behaving like adults and they are NOT and will not be for a long long time. Not at 16, not at 18 not even at 20. Hopefully by the time they leave our homes they will have watched us and learned enough from us to be able to make those wise choices in life but lets give them enough years to gain the maturity to use that wisdom.

My prayers are with the families and with the boys. Yes, they are boys, not men. Boys, who were not thinking. Boys who were being stupid like boys most often are.  Dear God, Please don't punish them for their childish errors. Please give them another chance to learn from their mistake and to grow from their experience. Miracles do happen. please let this be one !

TISSUE ISSUE

By now you should have realized I have issues . . . MANY many issues. Most are dumb, ridiculous and insane but be that as it may they are my issues.

My latest issue is the problem of tissues in my pockets. I do not have a problem with the existence of tissues but with the fact that I can NOT remember to take them out of my pocket before I wash my clothes. You see, I have this hereditary issue where my nose likes to drain at the most inopportune moments. My dad had this problem, especially in his later years. I remember most vividly sitting across from him at the dinner table and watching the painfully slow drainage of his sinus cavity. First there would appear a small moist area at the outer edge of his nostril. That would slowly get larger until a small drop would form. The drop would then build in size until it began to make its veryyyyyyy sssslllloooooowwwww  oooooozzzzeeeee down his upper lip where just as it was about to begin its formation into a drop where it would fall into his plate Papa Dan would reach into his pocket and grab his handkerchief and wipe that mess away.   Now this must be a part of aging because as Ger was wending his way through his cancer journey he too began the nose drip ritual.  Ooze, gather, roll and drip!  I would like to blame the fact that I have allergies and living in Florida gives me cause to have a continuously running nose but what ever the reason I too must be prepared to play the game.

Unlike the gentlemen who prefer handkerchiefs, I prefer tissues! (Somewhere in the past I have written about that.) So like any good grand ma I am always prepared with a package of hand wipes AND a package OR TWO of tissues. Often I am doling out tissues to friends and family at the movies or mass. They always know I am carrying.
The problem I have is not with the unused tissue but with the tissue that has now been put to use. I have a couple of options. One, throw it out. That's only an option if I have thoroughly saturated the tissue and it can never be used again. It's just wasteful to put one little sniff in a tissue and then throw it away. Think of the trees ! So if I've just sniffed into the tissue I will either put it back in my purse OR, and this is the much more preferable choice, put it in my pocket. If a tissue is in my purse it takes more effort to find it than if it's in my pocket. After all, that's what pockets are for, right ! So, into my pocket goes the tissue and on with my day go I.
At the end of the day I will take off my pants, hang them in the closet or throw them in the laundry, depending on the degree of nastiness and go on with my evening. IF I was smart I would go through the pockets right then and there to empty the pockets but you and I both know that at the end of the day the LAST thing I am going to do is take time to take the exhausting amount of time and energy to empty TWO pockets. I'll remember before I throw these in the wash. RIGHT !

Now I have an entire load of wash with bits and pieces of tissue attached to EVERYTHING. Why is it that when I take a tissue out of the package and go to wipe chocolate off my grand daughters face the tissue falls apart and disappears but when I run it through 3 cycles of wash in a washer it shreds, multiplies and remains in tact so it can cling to every article of clothing in the load? Not only that but it becomes electrically charged so that removing it from clothing results in electric shocks equalling that of sticking your finger in a socket !!