I've spent a good portion of the day with my camera, taking photos of letters that I rescued from the debris of the fire at my parents' home, I think four years back. It's amazing the time one has to do things long undone when one doesn't have cable TV.
Over a hundred pictures, all to preserve what's sure to fall apart due to acids, eventually. I'm preserving my family history.
That is important to me.
In fact, it's of growing importance to much of my family; Dad just spoke with a cousin of his grandfather who is 94 and living with her brother, both still sharp and alert. Found out his dad had 3 sisters, not two, and with the help of younger folks sent them pics retrieved my my deceased grandfather's home and were able to identify people in the images. My sister-in-law is delving into her family line also, (I think she's jealous of out side who knows so much of our history, and wants something for her kids on her side. More power to her, I hope she unearths a trove of info.)
Along the way, I've had opportunity to read just a few letters, once of which I'd like to share.
Know that my mother's mother's mother, Fannie Grigsby Robinson, was a concert pianist in her youth, and she often wrote to her brother, Sioux Grigsby. Sioux and Fannie were children of Col. Melven Grigsby, my great-great grandfather (google the name and "smoked yank" to read his book on his Civil War experiences), and after Fannie's husband George died relatively young, Sioux sent Fannie loads of money to help out over the years. Sioux was a big name in South Dakota politics, and campaigned with Taft back in the days (I mean went on the trail as part of Taft's entourage). His brother George Barnes Grigsby was even bigger in politics (wiki him for info), but that's not germane and I don't want to get off on a tangent.
Anyway, lots of letters from Sioux to Fannie are about money and politics, and everything back to Sioux from Fannie is about family and piano lessons [Elizabeth is her daughter, my grandmother, who married Allen; Valerie, Janet, David and Jennifer are their kids--Val's my mom; all are mentioned so I thought I'd mention that. Oh, and Jack is Sioux and Fannies' other brother]. They both talked a lot about health, as even in the 1950's when the letters were written, both were over 50 years old--Sioux was probably in his 60's, even.
The interesting thing in the letter is evident to me, but your thoughts, as always, are something I'd be interested in reading as well. What do you take from this glimpse from 50 years ago, nearly to the month? For that matter, into the period nearly 50 years before that, which the letter will relate?
November 5, 1958
Dear Souix,
This has been the most hectic ten days I ever spent. I have started to write a couple of times and will finish the letter I started and send it as I wanted to tell you all about the vitamins and Niagara.
I am just writing this because I have a chance to get it mailed now and so much has happened so fast.
My class has changed a lot unexpectedly. Two familie bought places out of town and moved away. Each had two pupils studying with me. On family bought a bix sixty-acre farm (big for Michigan) five miles out of Howell, Michigan. The man is a lawyer, and drives in every day, forty miles to his office in downtown Detroit. They wanted to drive the to girls in to take lessons from me, as there was no teacher around out there, but thank Heaven, they couldn't make it.
I filled up the four vacancies right away with new pupils, all very young. These are hard to start and their mothers came along at first, and it takes a lot of time. I also have three new adults, a doctor's wife, a coullege student's wife and a certified public accountaint, an Armenian girl, 42 years old and very talented. They are all fun to teach, but never want to go home. The married ones with children come in the morning. I have two more waiting to begin, and am almost crazy. I have changed my whole schedule three times already. At present, Girl Scouts meet Tuesdays and Thursdays. Brownes on Wednesday Catholic confirmation classes on Monday, school dances on Friday and swimming every day after school, and orchestra practice is also Tuesdays. The schools will not excuse anyone for piano lessons. Said they tried it, and everyone took a piano lesson and left the teachers facing an empty class-room. I believe it too. However, I have it pretty well organized now and can get along fine as long as the 'phone doesn't ring! [RAV--I believe the 'tick' mark before phone was a swear word one didn't write in 1958, ha ha.] A music-teacher must look nice and be all smiles in a nice clean house. You can't look like a grand-mother and you can't be doing any kind of work. Whatwith the cooking, shopping, dish-washing, cleaning, lawn-mowing etc, its a great life whether you weaken or not.
Elizabeth's family have been busy proving that you cannot anticipate what children are going to do.
Valerie went to school on a very rainy day with strict orders from Allen to return his umbrella in good condition. It is a fifteen dollar umbrella and does not belong to him but to a golf team his boss has. Allen is a golf star.
On the way home, Valerie had this huge umbrella in one hand and David by the other. She takes David to and from Kindergarden. She arrived home with the umbrella intact, but she herself was scratched, all bruises, clothes torn and crying. Three duty boys pitched on her (do you have duty buys in S. F. to stand on corners and get kids safely across? Its supposed to be an honor.) For some reason the boys wanted the umbrella. The one on that corner called two others from their corners. Valerie did not dare let go of David or the umbrella so she defended herself by biting, but they knocked her down and hurt her, and took David's papers away from him and put them in the sewer. Valerie must have taken a good bite out of one boy because they all ran. I never saw anyone so mad as Allen. He couldn't go as he had to get back to work, but Elizabeth went at once to the school. We all thought the boys should have been removed from duty but they were not. The principal said "Boys will be boys." They were "reprimanded," and Valerie was called in to the principal's office and given a lecture on lock-jaw and told never to bite anyone. allen is telling her to bite more and harder, so she is between two fires. There were plenty of witnesses to theis fracas,-kids who stood and watched without interfering as kids do. One was Janet who would have helped but couldn't get near. But the principal wouldn't let Valerie have witnesses. Said she would take her word, but she must never bite!
I don't know why she had the umbrella in the first place as they all have rain-coats. Allen has a way of being too strict on his orders. She would have fought twenty boys rather than disobey. I always think he uses poor judgement but I keep my mouth shut (most of the time.)
A few days later Allen had a good chance to cool off. David and two other four year olds paraded own the alley and broke twenty-two windows with rocks. The three fathers had to replace the glass.
Little Jennifer wanted to get in on the act, so she took the biggest rock she could lift and threw it through the garage window next door. The family had just moved in but were very nice. Wouldn't let Allen put in a new window as they are replacing all windows with a different kind.
All this window breaking and rock-throwing is entirely new. Next month it will be something else.
The kids had a wonderful Halloween party, and this time it was Allen's idea. It was beautiful weather, so they had an outdoor party and a great time.
I enjoy reading those Sioux Falls papers you used for packing the vitamins, but have hardly read half yet & have not yet come across anything about our family. Read about Dickinson. Am sorry the Dickenson boys are gone. I may have shortend the life of Rollo. When he was fifteen he was an awful bully and used to pick onto Jack who was only nine and at that time small for his age. ONe day he came into our backyeard and knocked Jack down. I took a pitch-fork which was the first thing I could grab and went for him. He ran and I ran after him all the way to the bakery, jabbing him in the seat of the pants with the pitch-fork every few steps. When we got to the bakery, Mr. Dickenson came out in his all white uniform & apron and said "Whats the matter?" I told him Rolla had been picking on my little brother. Before I could say any more he took a strap and licked poor Rollo with the strap. I felt so awful I cried. I met Rollo at a party when I was a young lady. He sang and I had to play for him. He said "I don't see how I can sing with you! I've had night-mares about you all my life!"
This, incidentally was the first time I ever really liked Jack. Mamma always gave Jack all my things to play with when I wasn't around and he broke everything, including my beautiful new bike, over which eight boys fought. I could never ride it again and Papa wouldn't get me a new one. I never thought of Jack as my brother until Rollo went for him, but I juess I had a strong sense of justice. From then on I loved Jack!
Have had a few pupils in recital in Highland Park, but that seems like nothing compared to all the excitement. The weather has been beatiful for once, as good as South Dakota.
I cannot find a letter I had from Alice Davenport--can't think of her last name. I wanted to write her. How does Anne like the kitchen I'll bet she just loves it & it must be beautiful. Will send my other letter.
Labor Day. And my arse is tired.
Current mood: tired
Category: Life
Well, this weekend's been moving weekend. I'd hoped to have finished sooner (I have a parody to produce, doncha know...), but as it is, I still have just a couple more loads of stuff to move over, and then cleaning for post-rental inspection.
I've walked the equivalent of a mile with anywhere from 120 to 20 lbs of stuff loaded on a two wheel hand truck. My little ass cheeks haven't been worked that hard since....
...well, it's been a while, let's just say.
The good news is so far, it seems I got another free network (this one's id'd as Motorola. Signal is strong, from where I sit. Which is good. Free internet, that is. It's a very good thing. Tell little Anthony.)
[Who got it, huh, who? Message me in private--don't blurt it out here.]
The weird thing is that it seems I have more space in the studio than I did in the one bedroom--and it ain't so. But the layout fits my furniture. I have a bed area, a reading area (I'm in the recliner now), a media area (I found a tele by the dumpster--note said it works, haven't tried it yet; my projector TV only works with outside input, so w/o cable, I haven't even had regular broadcast television--that would be nice to have. We'll see.) There is, of course the kitchen, and while I don't have a dishwasher, and I have found that all of my dishes fit in few cabinets rather well. The pantry is bigger--that helps.
Anywhoo, I just logged on to check the time. I can't find my clock and the celly's in the old place. Tomorrow is cleanup day, and I'm hoping I'm not as wiped out then as I am now; I need to continue my Dr. Whorrible dealeo.
P.S. Blert's adjusting well, BTW. He freaked all day as I moved stuff out, took his window perches, his toys, his kitty cab and scratching post. Finally I took him over, and he seemed bemused to find all our things in this strange place. But after he's had time to take the tour, and I unpacked his mousies, and we played and such, he's all good. When I brought him over I passed the playground. All the kids (6-7) came over to meet the new kitty. Blert likes kids, it seems. They were all very gentle and he enjoyed the attention. Oh--and you should have seen B. in his harness (I leashed him for the long walk over)! Hysterical. Kept walking backwards in an attempt to back out of it. It was like watching a video backwards.
Note to self: Don’t step on the cat. [Warning--there is blood]
Current mood: betrayed
Category: Pets and Animals
I stepped on Blert. I didn't mean to, fo course. It was dark, and he was quiet. Amidst the ensuing meowing, he managed to (in self defense of course), maul me pretty good. Frontside:
And backside:
And the look he gave me! He was completely taken aback. He stared at me like I'd personally gone in and cut his nuts off (if he'd remembered his nuts, which I don't think he does, but the look was the same.)
It took him 10 minutes to even speak to me, followed by an hour of fussing and playing till I was back in his good graces again. All is forgiven, it seems.
He's even back to grooming me [which he's taken a liking to--me, not so much, but I tolerate it as a symbol of feline ownership.]
Monoplegic: 4 weeks later
Current mood: slowly recovering
Category: slowly recovering Life
So today's been 4 weeks since I awoke to find I couldn't use half the muscles in my arm.
There's progress.
Not as much as I'd like, mind you, but at least my therapist is very happy. I can at least tense up all the lost muscles. I can hold my wrist out straight for a minute or so. I have enough use of the first ginger flange muscles that, so long as I wear my 'working' brace, I can type (which is good fine-motion exercise.)
However, I still have nill strength, overall. I can't overcome the resistance of a rubberband to extend my fingers. There's a little thumb muscle that refuses to do anything useful (another one is far better), and my ring finger extender seems to be lagging, as well. But still, it's progress.
Medical bills have started to arrive, but not the big one yet. So far I can handle the little ones. Once the big one comes in, I'll be screwed (and I will seek advise from the many who offered useful tips on how to handle them.)
In other news, I've decided not to move (much), as it would be too much of a bear to do so with my lacking functionality. So I'll be shifting to a smaller studio, which will do for 6 months till I'm more fit. I'll save a bit on rent that way, but not so much for the gas (which thankfully has fallen almost to $3.50 'round here.)
For those who've asked, my caricature came from a website I found on google; you pic your own parts. I think it's pretty close.
As for me, I've been reading again, and mostly staying off-line, and that seems to be par for the near future course as I don't much feel like blogging.
Ya'll take care; drop me a line if you need a morph or anything.
Ravnostic: Human pin cushion (ouch!) [Queer’s palsy update]
Category: Life
So's today was the day I went in for neurotesting on the arm. Let me just tell you what's been up wih the arm first.
Some nerve action is coming back--in fact, most of it. The only problem is it's weak--WEAK!! Sure, you can see the muscles contract, but up until a few days ago, it wasn't enough to result in actual movement. It's getting there--I can move my wrist about 1/2 inch, I can move the middle finger a little bit to (which means i'll be able to flip a bird far sooner than I'll be able to point at someone doing something stupid while laughing.
The test is grueling. the take a thin needle, whcih doesn't hurt at all when it goes in (I was told it's a 25 gauge, or maybe 23), but then they prod it around the muscle in the arm until they find the nerve they are looking for. how do they know they found it?
Because that's when I scream like a little girl. Thereafter, the various electrodes register how much activity is getting through.
Repeat in a different place.
30 times.
Now my arm feels like I had a fullout workout--it's already sore, and I have pin-holes up and down my arm, and my shoulder, and two near the spine.
That's one of them. I look like I have the measles.
There is some neural activity, I'm happy to say. My therapist, on Monday, was very pleased with my progress this past week, as am I. It's not much--Ican't even hold my wrist straight against the force of gravity--but it's something, and after 3 weeks, it's welcomed.
I'm off to do my crosswords. I've been doing them to learn how to write with my right hand, which may be moot in 2 or 3 weeks to 3 months (per ther doc's analysis today), but you never know. It's a useful skill and might help me shave a little better in the mornings till things get back to normal.
Blert’s moment of ’less than charming’
Current mood: chipper
Somtimes, you cach them in a truly embartassing moment.
Bwah-ha-ha-ha!!! I had no idea his tongue was that long! This was midmoment in cleaning his paws; he was startled by the flash in my cam popping up just before I took the pic.
Time to update my website
Current mood: artistic
Category: Art and Photography
My website is looking stale. I'd like to update it. So, if I've morphed you before, and I have the source files (I should in all but the rarest instances), and you'll let me use the morph on the website, then I'll make it better than it was. Observe:
Real gay men watch real gay musicals
Current mood: artistic
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities
I'm on hulu again, and wonder of wonders, a favorite musical is there. Hint:
Know what it is, just by that picture?
Welcome to the gay club. Sign in and get your card to the left, pay your dues to the right.
I'm all about homo-friendly musicals. 7 Brides for 7 Brothers (come on, you know the blondie boy was a pole sucker!) Anything Gilbert and Sullivan (the first gay playright duo, if you ask me. 'Sweet little Buttercup', indeed!) Musn't forget Cats, shant we?
This one is Special, like the ones that ride the short bus. Another clue:
Got it? No? Do the letters ELO mean anything?
A real gay nan's band. Lots of falsetto, electric organ (did you know that all the best organists are gay? Is it really any wonder?)
This one is from 1980. A very good year. Special effects were just starting to get digitized. So chicks that normally wouldn't turn a homohead had a fighting chance.
That's hawt. I'd tat that. (no, not 'tap', 'tat'.)
Surely you know of what I speak by now, do you not?
It's got everything. It has OLJ:
OLJ is the gay man's answer to the straight man's Xena.
I'm sure it's not necessary to point out the obvious counter-parallels. (Remedial classes for those who question!)
(o>o>) (o|o)
Okay, then.
Come on! Really now, how gay is that?
Haaaaa-leeee-woood! Haa-aye-aye!
There's a fine hot young actor named Michael Beck.
He doesn't do nude in this scene, but he does here:
What? That's not him? But it must be! I googled Michael Beck Nude, and this picture came right up. On page four. A boy can dream, okay?
But really, it was 1980, which was a time when, thankfully, spandex was just out of fashion, parachute pants had not yet arrived [rock bands excluded in both cases as execptions proving the rules], and guys still wore pants tight enough to give at least an inkling of whats underneath.
Hey, I'm sure Michael is a grower and not a shower, so let up on my, will ya?
Well I'm off to watch the show.
I wonder how a leg warmer would look over my splint?
Currently
watching
:
Xanadu Release date: 1999-07-20
tired
rebellious
betrayed
curious
chipper
artistic
