Journal: Blessings & Trials, Pictures & Memories

Pouring myself a cup of Christopher Bean’s French Caramel Crème coffee...

One time we were having coffee break between Sunday School and church, and I was in line behind my great-nephew Joshua, who was about 14 then and ‘only’ about 6’ 4” (he has since stretched to... hmmm... 6’8”, I think). 

I said, “You’re not old enough to drink coffee! – it’ll stunt your growth.”

He turned around and stared.  I stared back (and up).  In a moment, deciding I surely must be kidding, he laughed. 

Sometimes there are absolutes in English grammar, and sometimes it’s quite flexible and debatable, isn’t it?

I corresponded with someone a number of years ago who used to take great exception to my use of ‘no end’ versus ‘TO no end’.  I’d write something like, “We enjoyed it no end,” and she was immediately writing to tell me it should be “TO no end.”  Nope, nope, nope.  “We enjoyed it no end” means there just wasn’t any end to our enjoyment.  If I should write, “We enjoyed it to no end,” it would give it an entirely different connotation, meaning, “We enjoyed it, but it didn’t do anybody any good,” i.e., ‘to no good end’. 

That same person saw a picture of me at my new quilting machine (the first one I had, which was set up in our basement), and in the background was a big framed jigsaw puzzle of a gigantic, scrumptious-looking hamburger, complete with buns, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, and pickles, with ketchup and mustard dripping artistically down the sides.  

She told me to take it down, because it didn’t look ‘serious enough for a professional quilter who was planning to do quilting for customers’. 

First, nunna her bizzness.  Second, we liked that picture; we put it together ourselves.  Third, it was my basement, for pity’s sake.  Why didn’t she complain about the unfinished walls and ceiling?  Fourth, she knows absolutely nothing about professional quilters or their customers, either one.  We quilters like big, juicy, colorful hamburgers, be they in person, in puzzle, or in quilt!  Yep, I’ve seen quilts – table toppers – made to look like giant hamburgers.

Again last week, I spent every moment possible scanning old photos.  Here’s one taken in southwest Nebraska in 1988.  We were on our way to Larry’s Aunt Lynn’s ranch to take her a little loader he had fixed up for her.  This is Dorcas, age 6, at Trenton Dam on Swanson Lake.

Here we are at Aunt Lynn’s, on a hill overlooking Raton, New Mexico.  Summer, 1988: Keith, 8; Hannah, 7; Dorcas, 6; Teddy, 5; and Joseph, 3.  Oh, and I was 27.  That’s our Black Lab Ebony in front of me.

After all that work (and hours! – 5 ½ hours on the phone) trying to get Verizon to understand that Norma, who was primary owner of the account, has passed away, and the account should now be put back in Loren’s name, and I have Power of Attorney for him (with documentary sent – twice! – to establish these facts), I received the following voicemail from someone at Verizon, last Monday:

“Hi!  This message is for a Sarah Lynn Jackson; we’re calling from Verizon Wireless in reference to a Power of Attorney document we received.  We’re calling to let you know we did receive the document, but unfortunately we’re unable to approve it, because the account owner is a, uh, different person.  So we can only accept Power of Attorney for the account owner.  If the account owner is deceased, we would need a certificate of death for that person... um... in order to assist you in a resolution for Loren.  So you’ll get a letter in the mail confirming the rejection of this document; if you have additional information, you can refax documents to 877-909-3445.  Also, please feel free to contact customer service at 800-922-0204 Monday through Saturday 8 a.m. to 7 p.m. and Sunday 8 a.m. to 5 p.m.  Thank you.”

Ugh, why do they have to be soooo incompetent?!  We did send that Death Certificate!  In fact, I sent it twice.  It’s in my sent file, for proof.  Plus, the man I talked to on the phone that very afternoon said the Death Certificate was in the file.  The company employees evidently abide by the verse, “Let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth.”

Plumb maddening.  The nice man whose mother tongue was actually English (there’s a plus) did give me a number I could call where I could get a link to make an online payment without having to sign completely into the account.  So I got the bill paid, at least.  And I learned by seeing the amount owed that they had in fact removed Norma’s smartphone and jetpack from the plan; there’s another plus.  I wonder why they thought they could do that, but not put the bill in Loren’s name?

The man recommended I go to the local office; they’d be able to do it for me.  Our local offices have nearly as long of waits as the Verizon customer service phone lines have.  Then Larry saved my sanity (if I had any in the first place) by saying he would take Loren with him to the Verizon office, and, one way or another, they would get this matter resolved so we can pay the bill for him.  Why should that be so hard?!  People are troublesome, that’s the real answer here.  They get put in places where they can make everyone else dot their t’s and cross their i’s (or something like that), and they have no end of fun with it.  This is proven, when we run into people who are not like that, and do what they can to be helpful.  One thing for sure, it certainly makes us appreciate the latter sorts!

If that doesn’t work, we’ll just make him another account; that might be the best way to solve the problem.

When I went to Loren’s bank that afternoon, the man I spoke with was understanding and efficient, and soon had the account unblocked so I could use it.

I came home and paid one of his bills for him, just for the sheer enjoyment of it.  heh

Meanwhile, I am having fun scanning my old pictures.  Here’s Keith, somewhere in southern Colorado beside a little mountain stream, and there he is rock-climbing near Cuchara, Colorado, 1988.

Early Tuesday afternoon, Loren found an old note Norma had written him in April regarding a doctor’s appointment, and thought he needed to go pick her up at the clinic.  We did our best to explain things to him.  Sometimes he might seem to understand – but later, even the same day, he’s lost what we said, and wants us to tell him again.

When I took him some food and his laundry later that afternoon, I gathered up all the old notes Norma had written, as many as I could find, telling Loren maybe that would help, so he wouldn’t find them again and think they were recent.  He agreed, and handed me a couple that he had on the table.

At one point, he put his hand on his head and said, “I’m really trying, but I just can’t process all this, for some reason.  I don’t understand it; I’ve never had this much trouble getting hold of things in the past!”

I really felt sorry for him.  I said, “Well, let’s not worry about it.  Just put it in God’s hands, and let Him take care of it.” 

So he nodded, smiled, and went back to his food; and I further distracted him by hunting through his refrigerator for things that needed to be taken out. 

I found some protein drinks, which I scooted to the front so he’d find them, and then told him the story of the time Bobby and Hannah were having devotions, reading about Elkanah’s wife Hannah.  The prophet Eli, seeing her in the temple praying silently, only moving her mouth, thought she was drunk accused her of being a ‘daughter of Belial’ – when his own sons were ‘sons of Belial’. 

“Do you children know what a son of Belial is?” asked Bobby.

Levi, about 5, answered (with big eyes), “Yes!”  (nodding solemnly)  “It’s a person who drinks beer, wine, and energy drinks!”  

That broke up the devotions.

And Loren really laughed about it, so I took my exit then.

Home again, I resumed the scanning of pictures.  Here I am on a pontoon boat on Dillon Reservoir, Colorado, in 1988. 

We got a couple rounds of rain through the night, with lots of lightning and thunder.  The yard looked nice and green Wednesday.

Here’s Larry racing around the slide to catch Joseph before he sailed off the end.  

Time... after time... after time...  he’d help Joseph up to the top of the ladder, position him just right (Joseph giggling and laughing the entire time), then, as he stepped down a couple of rungs and prepared to jump the rest of the way, he’d tell Joseph, “Okay, push off!”  Joseph, just waiting for the signal, would pull with his heels and push with his hands, and down he’d go, while Larry dashed for the end of the slide to catch him and swing him high in the air. 

This, because if someone didn’t catch the little guy, he’d land hard and either hurt his back on the edge of the slide, or fall forward face-first into the ground, risking damage to poor little face and glasses, too.

This is Hannah in 1983, at age 2 ½.

I got up earlier than usual Thursday, partly because I went to bed earlier than usual, and partly because I had a headache, probably caused by my neck, which regularly complains because of rheumatoid arthritis and osteoporosis.  Victoria gave me a roll-on tube of Deep Relief for Mother's Day (essential oils from Young Living); that helps – especially when I combine it with capsaicin.  My order of Absorbine Jr. arrived; that stuff helps, too.

Once upon a time, I decided to put some of that on as we were traveling over Raton Pass on a cold winter’s night.

Now, Raton Pass is not all that high in elevation – 7,835 feet – but Absorbine Jr. is manufactured and bottled in Trevose, Pennsylvania, elevation 128 feet.

https://www.absorbinejr.com/about-absorbine-jr/history-100-years-pain-relief/

I had only to apply a little pressure with that bottle, and the sponge on top popped right off.  The entire contents of the bottle spilled all the way down my back.

I tell you, that was the strangest combination of freezing cold and icy hot I have ever experienced.  I was feeling no pain – but I was certainly feeling odd sensations.

Teddy was six months in these pictures.  It was February of 1984.  The baby was beaming and smiling as I shot one photo after another – and then someone tucked one of the girls’ Strawberry Shortcake dolls into the crook of his arm. The look on his face – “What on earth IS this alien thing?!” – made everyone screech with laughter.

I watered the houseplants, filled the bird feeders, and then, at a quarter ’til ten, I was about to blow-dry my hair when someone knocked on my door.  It was Loren, and he’d brought a pair of pajama bottoms that needed to be hemmed.  He’d walked on the hems long enough that they were ripped and frayed, and now I’m afraid they’re too short.  But... oh, well; they’re pajama bottoms, right?  

That was the first time I’d turned on my sewing machine for ... what, three weeks, maybe?  Since I was at it, I hemmed a pair of pants for Larry, too.

I checked the game cam to make sure Loren got back home again all right. (He did; he still drives well.)

For breakfast, I had a peanut butter/tomato sandwich, made with fresh tomatoes from the neighbors’ garden.  Don’t turn up your nose unless you’ve tried it!  And don’t have it on bread; make toast.  Nice, crisp toast, buttered, slathered with peanut butter... and then with tomato slices on it.

Speaking of the neighbor man, he brought us a thank-you card for taking care of their goats and chickens and garden last week while they were gone – and it had a gift card to Cracker Barrel in it.  I protested, but he gave me his usual speech about how much he appreciates us, and what good neighbors we are.  I imagine we would be even better neighbors if we’d finish our house and Larry’s big garage.  😐

Soon I was back to scanning the old photos. Here are more photos from the trip we took in 1988:  Dillon Reservoir, 1988 and Royal Gorge, 1988

That pontoon boat we took out on the reservoir was a big enough boat, we could’ve used it for our whole family after the other four children came along, plus Aleutia the Siberian husky and Calico Kitty (though Kitty would’ve howled like a banshee through the entire excursion).

Here’s Joseph, age 3 ½, and Teddy, 5.

I trotted downstairs to get a fresh cup of coffee, and walked to the laundry room to look out the patio doors.

A male downy woodpecker was on the suet feeder, a male Northern cardinal on one of the sunflower seed feeders, and house finches on all the other feeders.  There were Eurasian collared doves on the deck and down on the ground one story below, gathering up all the seeds the other birds drop.  A young cardinal landed on the railing, tail all splayed to help him balance.  He began chirping like anything, begging for a parent to come feed him.

Loren came back around 3:00, this time in his pickup (the first time had been in his Jeep).  I gave him back his pajamas, telling him about the fraying, and saying that he’d be in good shape if his house gets flooded.  He laughed; his house is on a hill; it won’t flood.

Meanwhile, I’d just received word that Charles and Susan (my niece) had a new baby granddaughter, Brooklyn Grace.  She is their second grandchild.  The first, Charity Susan, is just three weeks old.  But... Charles and Susan were in San Antonio, where the previous day Susan had had surgery for breast cancer.  And because of COVID-19, Charles could not be with her.  This, I find extremely horrid. 

At least they have electronics to keep them in touch with each other and with the rest of the family.  And that little granddaughter is certainly something to look forward to, when they get home.  God always gives a light in our darkest hours, if we will just look for it (and a new little granddaughter is a light that’s not hard to see, truly).

Still, it made me cry – happy and sad tears at the same time, which, once they get started, are hard to stop, if you know what I mean.  And wouldn’t you know, my brother showed up at my house again before the red tomato nose quit glowing, and he wondered what was the matter, and when I told him, it started me up all over again, even if I could laugh at myself at the same time.  Ugh, didn’t want to do that!

So there he was, consoling me and assuring me that ‘all things work together for good’, while I rummaged up some food to put in a lunchbox for him.  He’d come, wedding album in hand, to ask me more questions about Norma – and he can’t understand how there can be another woman who looks just like her and calls herself by the same name, coming to his house to clean and wash dishes.  I told him that, according to the camera we installed, nobody had been there... and he agreed, nobody had – for the last two or three days, at least. 

In the end, he was more concerned about me, and about Susan and Charles, than he was about his Phantom Norma (that was supposed to be funny; you can laugh now).  Larry said (to me, only to me), “I didn’t want my mother to turn into a ghost after she died!”  Oh, dear...  Well, we can laugh, because we believe her soul lives on, we’ll see her again someday, because we love the Lord as she did ----- and someday after this (sometimes so very difficult!) life is over, my brother will be well again. 

So, like the Apostle Paul wrote to his friends, “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair... and we are renewed day by day.” 

Yes, that describes it perfectly.

By 4:30, here was Loren again, making sure I was feeling better – and this time he was driving his Buick Lucerne.  He periodically drives them to make sure they’re all in good working order.  

The Lucerne started slowly, he said; he’ll need to put the battery charger on it when he gets home.  I asked if he had his cell phone with him.  He patted his pockets.  Nope, he didn’t have it, and he didn’t know where it was, either.

When Teddy was a brand-new baby, a roll of film I took got ruined.  It was exposed somehow; I don’t remember how it happened.  Maybe it got stuck in the camera, or something.  I was so sad about that, because they were my very first pictures of him.  Also, the roll included pictures of Keith and Hannah that I really liked – but they were pretty well ruined, all orange and washed out.  I saved them anyway.

That evening, finding them in the next photo albums, I scanned them, turned them black and white, cranked the contrast waaay up, took out a little brightness here and there, removed a few shadows, and upped the detail.  And voilá, those pictures have been resurrected!  I like color better; but these are pretty good, for having been ruined, all those years ago.  Almost 38, to be exact.

Can you tell the sun was really bright, in this shot of Keith and Hannah?

Teensy kept me company as I worked.

When I quit for the night, I had 12 albums completed, and had just started on the 13^th.  They aren’t in order; I’m taking them as I find them in the large bins.  I had a bad habit of cutting pictures into odd shapes, and then fitting them into my albums like jigsaw puzzles. 

Mama said one day I would regret doing that.

Mama was right.

Friday morning, with plenty of those fresh tomatoes left, I had another peanut butter/tomato sandwich.  When I was very young, my mother and my sister would eat those things, and I’d get the cold shudders.  They’d try to get me to eat one... I’d refuse... until finally, one day, Lura Kay got me to take one leeto bitty bite.  Amazingly, I liked it.

That day, I tried registering Loren’s credit cards so I could pay them online, but couldn’t, because he’s not the primary owner.  It must’ve been Janice, to whom he was married before Norma, and who passed away in 2014, who set them up.  I tried getting a new card in his name, and was declined.  I probably looked too much like a thief trying to steal his ID.

I then got the bright idea of just paying the bill through his bank’s bill pay – and couldn’t do that, either, without the primary owner’s social security number.  Bah, humbug.  They can’t always manage to block the hackers and the spammers, but they almost always manage to block us Helpful Hatties and do-gooders.  I’m not trying to steal anything; I’m trying to pay the bill, for cryin’ out loud!

Loren arrived a little before 3:00 that afternoon, looking for Larry and surprised to learn he was at work.  I put some food into a lunchbox for him to take back home with him.

At 5:30 p.m. he was back again, returning the lunchbox I gave him earlier, along with another one I’d given him Wednesday night after church.

Here’s a picture of Keith, from late 1980.  This is the little face that greeted me every morning when I heard his crib squeaking and went to get him.  Not the best quality of a photo, but I love it just the same.

Loren came a little after noon Saturday, looking for Larry.  Larry was working, but I think I made up for Larry’s absence by giving Loren some apple pie with maple nut ice cream.

I finished scanning another album that day.  I’m sure not getting these done as fast as I thought I could!

I went downstairs for something... thought I saw a flying shadow when I first opened the stairs door... stopped and watched for a while, saw nothing... went on into my gift-wrapping room. 

The bat was flying again when I opened the door to come out.  I hurried for the stairs... got several steps up – and then the horrid thing ran into me!  It brushed right against my arm and side, all warm and furry.  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa.

No, it didn’t claw me; no, it didn’t bite me.  It was just trying to go up the stairwell, and I was in the way.  Bats’ radar is not infallible.

It regained its wits, and flew on.  Larry, after finishing his bath, went down to capture it.  It was flying... but before he could get it, it flew up into the rafters and ductwork of the basement ceiling.  Aaarrrggghhh.

Sunday morning as I got ready for church, I started getting notifications about the 5.1-magnitude earthquake that had just hit in North Carolina.

I’ve never felt an earthquake; have you?  Or if I did, I just assumed it was Larry, dropping some large, motorized and wheeled chunk of metal off a trailer.

After church, we took Loren some food – ancient-grain-encrusted cod, Mediterranean blend vegetables, yogurt, V8 cocktail juice, and applesauce.

While we were there, Larry hunted down Loren’s cellphone, finding it in his Jeep Wrangler.  It was dead, and we couldn’t find his chargers anywhere – neither his original one, nor the one I took him after his got lost.  So Larry got one of our 12-volt car chargers out of our Jeep Commander, unearthed an old cord in the center console that would fit Loren’s phone, and plugged it into the 12v outlet in Loren’s vehicle.

When we got home, Larry rummaged up a longer cord and another charger to take to church that evening and trade with Loren, since we do need our 12v charger.

Loren drove the Lucerne.  His cellphone, recalcitrant thing, stayed at home in his Jeep.

We went to Arby’s after church last night.  I got a Reuben sandwich, and Larry got a beef roast wrap.  Then, happily eating our sandwiches, we drove to Schuyler for E-85.  The low-fuel light came on when we were halfway there.  We put 18.5 gallons of gas in the 20-gallon tank.  E-85 in Schuyler is $1.59/gallon, 10¢ cheaper than it is in either Humphrey or Shelby.

We stopped at a nearby convenience store, and I got a blueberry parfait to eat on the way home.  Larry got a peanut butter cup/snickers parfait.  Mine had 350 calories; his had 650 (!).

There’s a tree frog on the front window right next to me as I sit at the table typing.  These little frogs have easily quadrupled in size since we first started seeing them in the spring.

This is the stunned expression a person gets when they start their nap in the flatlands of New Mexico, and awaken in the mountains of Colorado.  It’s Hannah, 1984, and we’re on our way back from Mexico.  We got the little dress she’s wearing in one of the open-air shops in Nuevo Laredo.

This afternoon, I copied all the recently scanned photos from the Elements hard drive to the Passport hard drive.  I don’t have them on my laptop... but I’d like to.  I’ve scanned over 3,500 pictures, and they only total 3.28 GB.  I’d up the quality of the scan if it didn’t slow things down so much.  Hmmm... I might need 95 GB for all the pictures I will be scanning.  I still have 313 GB free on my one-terabyte laptop.  I only have the last couple years’ pictures, plus our vacations since 2012, on the laptop.  Wish I could put all my photos on my laptop.  But... guess I’ll leave it the way it is, for now.  It will be possible one of these days, since large capacity laptops are getting easier to find – and not so outrageously expensive.  Anyway, at least I’ll have two copies of all these scanned photos; I’d sure hate to lose them.  I’ve already spent several weeks scanning, and there are hundreds more albums to go.

Later, I took Loren some food:  Philly sliced beef with gravy, corn, cranberry sauce, ruby red grapefruit juice, and a cranberry-orange muffin.

I gave him the receipt for his credit card, which I finally was able to pay through his online bank account.  I have no idea why it let me pay it, even though it once again gave me a red-outlined box informing me that the ‘data didn’t correspond with their records’.

This saves Loren writing out a check, then trying to balance his checking account (hard for him, because of his cataracts), then putting check and bill into an envelope, hunting for the stamps (that always get lost), and driving to the post office to mail it (he doesn’t like leaving bills in his mailbox for the mailman to pick up; he likes to make sure the letter gets to the post office).

I picked up his laundry while I was there, and collected some of his towels and washcloths, too.  I forgot to ask for them, last time.  Loren, worrying that he’s giving me too much to do, looked at them and said he wasn’t really sure they were dirty. 

I said, “Well, I wash mine every five to ten years, whether they’re dirty or not.” 

So he laughed and gave them to me, still worrying.

This was at Stonewall, Colorado, 1988. 

And now it is bedtime.

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,