MeSandford

CHECKING BOXES

2012-01-25T11:45:00.000-08:00

✓Sent submission to Clarion Editor
I’ve spent innumerable hours working at polishing my SEMPS manuscript and finally sent it off today. Feels good. I do fear it needs more work, but at some point you just have to stop revising and submit. Today I made it to that point with this manuscript. When I opened my inbox to tackle the long list of emails I’ve let go to get it done, I found it bounced back because of a typo in the email address. Yikes! I could hardly press send the second time. What if I had typos in the manscript? What if the editor doesn’t understand it? What if he hates it? What if he loves it? My only sane option right now is to get back to writing so I opening the next manuscript on my list and going for it. NOW!

I PROMISE

2012-01-23T11:38:00.000-08:00

Everyday I get up with such good intentions and before I know it the whole morning is gone. Maybe if I share my goals here, I’ll be more inclined to meet them. In December, I told my critique group I want to write for at least 10 hours every week in 2012. I do work on revisions or marketing at least that much, which is good, but not good enough. So now I’m promising myself I’ll spend at least 2 hours every weekday writing something new. Now I’ve put it in writing, I think I can really commit to it. Check back and see and please call me on it.

Chapter 7 Making a Bed

2010-08-04T12:15:00.000-07:00

Due to popular demand I am again posting my NYNNies 09 writing project. This a very rough draft. The following is only partly true. It is merely the ruminations of long lost memories with dialog and actions randomly added so it will read more like a story.

Chapter 7
Making a Bed
The next morning when Mary Ellen woke up her head was not on her pillow. The pillow was on the floor. And her head was right near the middle of the bed, sideways. She rolled over right away and sure enough Gail was gone and her bed was made. The yellow chenille spread was almost perfectly smooth. Mary Ellen looked at her own bed. A jumble of sheets, blanket and a yellow chenille spread.
The spread had surprised Mary Ellen when she went to bed. She couldn’t figure out how it got there or where it came from. She didn’t ask anyone. Not even Gail. She somehow knew asking about things was not good behavior at Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Cassie’s house. She tried to be good but it wasn’t easy. There were so many things that were not good, it was practically impossible to be good. And very confusing.
But when Aunt Cassie showed her how to make the bed Mary Ellen had watched carefully. She was sure she could do it. First she picked the pillow up off the floor and tried to shake it, but it kept hitting the floor before it really shook. She tried to push the pillow all the way back into the case. It worked okay, but some of it popped right back out. She plumped it just like Aunt Cassie, but that only made more pillow pop out so she set it on the foot of the bed.
Smoothing the bottom sheet was way too hard. Her arms did not reach as far as Aunt Cassie. Mary Ellen did the best she could. By that time she really needed to use the bathroom. She wasn’t dressed. Her bed was not made. Maybe she could sneak through the living room, use the bathroom, and get back upstairs before anyone noticed.
She peeked out the bedroom door. No one was in the small hall between the two girls rooms, but she did notice more drawers in the wall. For a cabinet maker, Uncle Lloyd sure built a lot of drawers. She wondered for a moment if every room of the house had drawers in the walls, but the urge to go to the bathroom got worse. She peeked into Mae Ellen’s room and saw a perfectly smooth pink chenille spread – of course.
Tippy toeing down the stairs Mary Ellen was as quiet as a mouse. At the bottom the need to go got even worse, so she crossed her legs and hopped through the living room. In the bathroom she did everything as quiet as she could. She thought about not flushing the toilet, but she knew Mae Ellen would love to tattle about that. After she flushed, she stood perfectly still listening to hear if anyone came near the bathroom door. Not a sound. Except the door knob squeaked something awful when she went to sneak out. But no one came.
As she was tippy toeing back through the living room she suddenly heard the rustle of a newspaper. Just ten feet away sitting in his big chair Uncle Lloyd was reading the newspaper. Mary Ellen scampered to the stairs lickety split. She peeked through the banister to see if he’d heard her, but he just turned another page and went on reading. At the top of the stairs she was just about to let out a long sigh when Mae Ellen stepped out of her room.
“You’re not dressed.” Mae Ellen had a very snotty voice. “And your bed isn’t made. I’m telling.” Then she shoved past Mary Ellen almost knocking her down the stairs and ran to tell Aunt Cassie. Or worse yet maybe she would tell Uncle Lloyd! Mary Ellen froze a the top of the stairs listening. Finally she heard that snotty voice. It seemed very far away. Probably in the kitchen. It had to be too quiet to be coming from the living room. Mary Ellen cluthed her hands across her middle for another moment, but Uncle Lloyd did not come charging up the stairs. Letting go of the sigh she skidaddled into Gail’s room to tackle making the bed.
First she smoothed the bottom sheet a little more. A big wrinkle ran across the whole top, but no matter how hard she tried she could not get it smooth. She pulled up the sheet and sure enough it covered the wrinkle. Getting the sheet pulled up was a lot harder than it looked when aunt Cassie did it, but Mary Ellen did her best. The blanket was thicker so it was a little easier. Plus, it covered wrinkles better. The folded down part was crooked, but the yellow spread should cover that. Getting the spread smooth was impossible trying to reach the whole thing. She climbed up onto the bed smoothed it as she crawled backward to the end and off. That worked pretty good.
After pulling the spread up over her pillow, she stepped back and looked at the made bed. She could not figure out how to get the spread under the edge of the pillow and over the whole thing at the same time. Plus none of the corners were folded into triangles and the parts she tucked under the mattress did not stay like they should. She pulled the edge of the spread very slowly and then dropped it. A big part of the spread lay in aheap on the floor, but most of the top of it looked much smoother. She sighed and tippy toed out of the room shutting the door behind her. Maybe no one would notice.

MY YEAR OF PRECIOUS MOMENTS-HALLOWEEN

2009-11-02T09:29:00.000-08:00

Halloween with Ashlynne and Treson brought back a lot of wonderful memories. Ashlynne got the hang of trick or treating right away. After all isn’t that what Halloween is all about? Isn’t it the time of year when otherwise intelligent and concerned parents spend quality time teaching their children to take candy from strangers? Well-taught, Ashy went right up to the first house and called out “trick-or-treat” and she remembered to say thank you almost every time. In fact, sometimes she said thank you instead of trick-or-treat.

Treson and Rosey were on the same page enjoying the running around, climbing up steps, and meeting other trick-or-treaters. Rosey got a dog treat from the first house we went to and even though she never got another one she expected one every time. Treson loved to watch candy being dropped into his pumpkin and of course wanted to eat it all immediately. His “cold” was a little better but Pa, who is so concerned about his breathing, carried him most of the time.

Now we have about 17 tons of candy all over the house. Rosey has eaten more than her share and on Saturday night Treson was a crazy man from all the sugar. Ashy loves having her pumpkin full of candy and especially loves to take it all out and line it up in rows on the floor. Which of course is just what Rosey is hoping for. Treson tries to copy his big sister and dumps his pumpkin full of candy onto the floor over and over again. Sometimes he wears the pumpkin as a hat, which gives us an opportunity to quote line from his favorite book, “Hey, Smudge, that’s not a hat!”

On Sunday morning, Ashlynne looked out the window and a tiny piece of blue sky and shouted, “Look, Mommy, it’s summer!” Poor little girl, how sad to come from sunny California to Chicagoland where the sun can hide for weeks on end.

By Sunday evening the candy consumption had taken it’s toll. Both Ashlynne and Treson had a meltdown at the same time. I tried to help, but only Mommy could appease either of them at all. Poor Terianne! Fortunately it was just about bedtime so somehow she managed to make them happy and get them into bed. That mommy amazes me all the time!

MY YEAR OF PRECIOUS MOMENTS - 2

2009-10-29T07:51:00.000-07:00

It’s no surprise that when I decide to start writing about what’s going on in my house this year that the internet was down for hours and what I thought I’d posted yesterday was not there. That’s the way everything seems to go lately, but with Ashlynne, Treson and Rosey around it’s easy to see the humor pretty much all day long. (If only I’d remember that!) Like yesterday when we did our big grocery shopping for the month.
Ashlynne’s favorite shopping cart at our local grocery store looks like a big blue car. Blue being her current favorite color. So when we arrived I pull out the behemoth (it’s got to be at least 27 feet long and much wider than an ordinary cart- maneuvering it through the store is a challenge that takes considerable concentration and the design makes it almost impossible to see the riders) Terianne got the two little ones settled in the seat which thankfully has space for two and two steering wheels.
Within moments the real fun begins as Terianne and I concentrate on the list. Like I said it’s almost impossible to see the kids (unless I lean down and look through the back window of the cab, until the cart is full of course) so while I’m selecting apples and Terianne is getting other produce, Ashlynne is yelling, “Treson! Treson!” And of course he is climbing all over her in an attempt to get out the front where a windshield should be. Actually now that I have used that cart more than once I’m convinced it should be redesigned to include seat buckles even a one-year-old can not unclasp, doors that really lock and of course a real windshield. Sound proofing would be a great added touch.
So we continue up and down the aisles, Terianne involved with keeping the kids in the cart or at least walking nicely in the aisle without swiping a whole row of green beans off the bottom shelf (that’s a trick in Treson’s repertoire) I’m amazed at how she can actually find things on the list and keep the two from destroying the store. Treson has brought new meaning to the phrase “running amuck” no matter where we are. At one point Terianne had magically got them to ride along nicely for a while so I surged ahead. As I turned into a new aisle, Treson managed to bolt from the cart and over to a shelf of syrup. He snatched one off the shelf and charged off down the aisle! Since he can our run me it’s a good thing Terianne appeared and handled it.
When we finally got to the line at the register I foolishly focused on unloading the cart. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Treson and Ashlynne climbing a display of cases of pop. Since they were arranged just like stairs I can’t say I blamed them, and Ashlynne made it to the top in record time, I’m sure.

MY YEAR OF PRECIOUS MOMENTS

2009-10-29T07:44:00.000-07:00

This morning I realized that I have been missing the opportunity to record some very precious memories. Don’t know what took me so long to figure this out - I guess I’ve been too busy. But lately I’ve found myself realizing what a unique and wonderful time this is in my life.
On July 17, 2009, my son-in-law Lieutenant Frank Anderson, USMC, left Camp Pendleton California for a year in Iraq. That was the day before his son’s first birthday. A few hours laer my husband, Rick and I arrived to celebrate but of course missed the big party that had been rescheduled. My daughter, Terianne, and their two children, Ashlynne almost three and Treson (actually FKA IV-son of the third) came to Illinois to live with Mema (that’s me) and Pa. The move and the first three months were a roller coaster of fun, frustrations, and adjustments. From my point of view we have now all settled into our new routines.
Some highlights: (pictures on Facebook)
August 3-9 ~ Sherilyn and Jocelyn visit (before Jocey’s second birthday so we could take advantage of the free airfare) for a week. The cousins love each other and Ashlynne was missing all her CA friends.
August 7 ~ All 7 of us made a day trip to Iowa for Caitlynn’s second birthday.
August 16 ~ My youngest son, Jeff came home from school in Texas to visit and pick up his car.
August 20-24 ~ Rick, Terianne, Ashlynn, Treson and I drove down to Tennessee for Jocey’s birthday.
September 2 ~ Princess Rosey our new Miniature Poodle puppy came to live with us.
September 18 ~ Uncle Don, Aunt Shero, and Jocey came up here for Ashy’s third birthday. Don flew out of Chicago on Monday for work.
September 24 ~ Sherilyn, Jocey and I drove down to Tennessee so I could attend the SCBWI Midsouth conference September 25-27. I flew home on Monday.
Also during this time Uncle Ritch and Aunt Laura who live near us have visited many times, I attended a four week class at OCWW (only had to miss one class) and we all dealt with a bogus guarantee for our washing machine which meant going for over a month without a washing machine. Oh, and did I mention that my suitcase was lost on our flight from CA to IL for a week. And Terianne has started school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, we all go to Awana on Wednesdays, and Terianne has been teaching a few workout classes. So now I can see why I haven’t had time to write about all this. Right now Terianne and Treson are at Ashlynne’s weekly ballet class and the house was so empty I realized I should use this time to blog. This morning Terianne left before six am to teach a class and I enjoyed time with Ashlynne. She was in Terianne’s bed and the moment she opened her eyes she spotted a tube of lip gloss in a wire basket in the closet. Lip gloss is one of her favorite things so she jumped up and claimed it immediately.
Life is certainly precious these days and if I can just get Rosey house trained I think it will be just about perfect!

LET’S CALL THEM PRATS

2009-08-10T16:14:00.000-07:00

I have to digress from Mary Ellen today. My cousin's cousin just acquired a pet rat and I wanted to share this story with her. It is actually an assignment for ICL that I wrote last year.
So, Traci Here's some backup for your opinion on rats. Hope your enjoy.

LET’S CALL THEM PRATS

Screams, squeals, and fear. That’s what you’ll get if you tell someone you have a pet rat. But rat lovers will insist that rats are the best rodent pet you can have and that includes hamsters, gerbils, and even bunnies. What would make anyone think such a thing? Maybe most people think rats are nasty, because they confuse pet rats with wild rats.
Most pet rats are descended from Norway Rats that are not from Norway at all. They originated in Asia. Pet rats are often called fancy rats. If you've ever held a baby rat, you would see they are quite cute. They are curious and interested in everything around them – mostly you. Baby rats are soft and their tails are pink and will curl around your finger. Rats cannot see as well as you can. Their whiskers, which are very tickley, help them know where they are.
People often think pet rats are just like wild rats. So, there are two things about rats that everyone might not agree on. One; rats are dangerous. Wild rats may carry diseases, but a pet rat is no more likely to make you sick than any other pet. Since rats are more intelligent, they are less likely to bite. A healthy pet rat will only resort to biting if they are handled roughly or when they are protecting their babies. If someone doesn't know how to be gentle with your pet rat, it will usually squeal and try to get away before biting.
Two; people often think rats are dirty and smell bad. Wild rats live in dirty places and eat garbage. But you might be surprised to know that, unlike cute little bunnies, a rat's droppings are practically odorless. Most pet rats will use only one corner of their cage as their toilet. So if you bury you nose in a pet rat's fur (whose cage is cleaned regularly) it's almost impossible to smell anything. That's probably because rats also bathe themselves, the same way as cats do, several times a day.
Even though many people do not like rats, everyone would agree on at least two things about all rats. The first thing; rats are very intelligent. A rat's superior mental abilities make them good pets in several ways. Unlike hamsters and gerbils, a rat will not spend its entire life as your pet trying to get out of its cage. And when a rat is out of its cage, it won't immediately dart away from a good owner.
A pet rat will even recognize its owner and make it clear he wants to get out of the cage to spend time with you. Because they are social animals, a pet rat will actually make eye contact with you - on purpose. Most pet rats love to sit on anyone's shoulder. And even though rats are nocturnal, which means they usually sleep at night, they are smart enough to realize it’s more fun to be awake when their owners are around to play with them. They quickly learn to sleep when they are left alone.
The second thing is that rats are readily available. Rats can multiply very quickly. Male rats are called bucks and a female rat is called a doe. A pair of rats can have a new litter of up to 12 babies, called kittens, every three months.
Almost any pet shop sells rats. But many of them are bred to be sold as snake food. So, you might prefer to check out a rat breeder for your pet rat, since they are more careful to promote healthy pets. Even rats sold by a rat breeder are inexpensive compared to the price of other exotic pets. A rat is considered an exotic pet, because not everyone would want to own one.
While it seems that many people don't know that pet rats are very different from wild rats, Teddy Roosevelt, the twenty-sixth president of the United States, must have known. He kept pet rats in the White House. Beatrix Potter, the author of the Peter Rabbit stories, had a white rat named Sammy. Also, in the United Kingdom, British people who love rats are promoting the fourth of April as World Rat Day, a chance for rat owners to celebrate their pets.
Rat lovers care about pet rats so much they've started clubs for rat owners. Some of these groups even have exhibitions to judge the quality of their rats. They have high standards for the pet rat's health, size, and even the length and shape of their tails.
The National Rat Societies, The Rat Society of America, and The Rat Fan Club, are just a few of the groups formed to promote rats as pets. You can find other rat organizations online or listed in books about pet rats. They all have information about rats as excellent pets.
A group of rats is called a mischief. With a name like that it's easy to see that pet rats can be wonderful and a lot of fun. Maybe if we give pet rats a new name, everyone will remember the difference between wild rats and loveable pet rats. So, let's start calling pet rats, Prats!
The end

Mary Ellen Chapter 6 - GETTING SETTLED

2009-07-08T09:20:00.000-07:00

This a a very rough draft - Here is the next chapter.
The following is only partly true. It is merely the ruminations of long lost memories with dialog and actions randomly added so it will read more like a story.

Chapter 6
GETTING SETTLED

Mary Ellen went to the bathroom and closed the door. She wanted to see what Aunt Cassie saw when she looked at her. Maybe she figure out what Aunt Cassie was thinking when she pressed her lips together.

Standing on her tiptoes Mary Ellen tried to see herself in the mirror, but all she saw was her brown hair spiking up all over, her brown eyebrows and a little bit of her blue eyes. The blue eyes reminded her of Daddy. That made her wonder when her mother would come back to take her home.

Turning on the water Mary Ellen watched it splash over her hands. Everything was so different here. If she had to stay for a while she worried that she would never figure out how to do things the way they wanted. She stood at the sink with her hands under the water until she heard a quiet knock on the door.

“Mary Ellen?” Aunt Cassie’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Mary Ellen didn’t answer at first. She was so surprised that Aunt Cassie had knocked on the door instead of just opening it. Her mother would never do that. Paul and Pat wouldn’t either. Paul thought it was funny to see Mary Ellen perched on the toilet. Pat wouldn’t laugh he’d just close the door without saying anything. Pat never did say much at all.

Aunt Cassie knocked again, a little louder.

“Come in,” Mary Ellen said. She turned off the water and started to dry her hands.

Aunt Cassie opened the door. She was holding the brown suitcase. She smiled. “Let’s get you settled now dear.”

Mary Ellen stuffed the green towel over the towel bar. Aunt Cassie set down the suitcase and picked up the towel. After folding it she hung it over the bar adjusting it until it hung perfectly straight. But she didn’t look mad, so Mary Ellen just carefully watched how she did it.

On the way up the stairs, Aunt Cassie talked without stopping. “You’ll be staying in Gail’s room. I suppose you knew that. Since you woke up there. You’ll have to remember to leave Gail’s things alone. Unless you ask her. But she is very good at sharing. Still you shouldn’t assume or act like her things belong to you. That wouldn’t be fair to Gail. And of course you should just stay out of Mae Ellen’s room altogether. That will be the easiest thing for you to do. We don’t want any problems between you girls.”

When they arrived in Gail’s room, Aunt Cassie set the suitcase on the floor. She put her hands on her hips and looked around the room. Gail was sitting on the end of her bed reading. Her yellow bedspread was pulled up and folded over her pillow. A brown teddy bear with a yellow bow sat leaning on the pillow.

Mary Ellen’s bed looked like someone had scrambled the sheets and blanket with a giant egg beater. The pillow hung off and almost touched the floor.

Aunt Cassie started with the pillow. She pick it up and shook it back into the pillow case. Then she plumped it up and set it at the foot of Gail’s bed.

“You do know how to make a bed, don’t you dear?” Aunt Cassie said.

Mary Ellen nodded, a very small nod. She had never made a bed and did not remember ever seeing her mother make one. But somehow she knew she shouldn’t say that. She was starting to figure out she shouldn’t say a lot of things she might be thinking at Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Cassie’s house.

“Mae Ellen and Gail both knew how to make a bed by your age,” Aunt Cassie said. She smoothed the bottom sheet, refolded the corner, and tucked it under the mattress.
Mary Ellen watched her carefully.

Aunt Cassie grabbed the top sheet and pulled it all the way up. Then she pulled up the red and blue striped blanket and folded the top of the sheet over the top edge of the blanket. She smoothed the blanket and adjusted the bottom corner, tucking some of it under the mattress, too. It was all starting to feel very confusing to Mary Ellen. There were so many things to remember about making a bed. The part of the sheet that hung down actually looked like a perfect triangle.

“All we need now, is another yellow chenille spread, to match Gail’s.” Aunt Cassie said. “So do you think you can make your bed like this tomorrow, dear?”

Mary Ellen nodded. “I mean, yes.”

Aunt Cassie snatched up the brown suitcase and swung it up onto the bed. “Now let’s get you unpacked and settled.”

Mary Ellen stood at the end of the bed. She rolled her ankles out and in. What did Aunt Cassie mean? Settled? How long was Mary Ellen going to be at Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Cassie’s? Would her mother ever come back to get her? And what about Daddy? He’d been gone to the Army for a long time. Her mother never talked about him. Not to Mary Ellen at least. And when Mary Ellen heard her mother talk about him to other people it was not happy talking.

Aunt Cassie looked through the clothes in the suitcase. “Hmmm,” she said. “Gail did you empty two drawers?”

Gail looked over the top of her book and straightened up a bit taller, “yes, Mom,” she said. “Those two,” she pointed to the wall next to Mary Ellen’s bed.

For the first time, Mary Ellen noticed that both of the shorter walls on the sides of Gail’s room, had drawers right in them. Like a dresser without the dresser part, just the drawers right in the wall. It was amazing. Mary Ellen counted. Each row had four drawers and there were four rows. Two on each wall. Mary Ellen had no problem counting the fours, but she stopped after that.

Aunt Cassie watched Mary Ellen counting. “Your Uncle Lloyd made these drawers. In here and in Mae Ellen’s room. Your Uncle Lloyd is a cabinet maker. He even belongs to the union. Everyone says he’s the best cabinet maker ever.”

Mary Ellen smiled and nodded. If Uncle Lloyd was a cabinet maker why didn’t he make the dresser part for the drawers? A dresser was kind of like a cabinet wasn’t it? Were drawers the same as cabinets? Mary Ellen didn’t think so, but she knew for sure Uncle Lloyd would not want to discuss it with her, so she just nodded and said, “they’re very nice.”

Aunt Cassie focused on the brown suitcase. She took each piece of clothing out one at a time. She examined each one and then shook them and refolded them and put them in a drawer. Shirts and pants in the bottom drawer. Underwear, pajamas, and socks in the one above that. Sometimes she frowned and rubbed at a spot. Sometimes she frowned and folded quickly. And sometimes she said, “I remember when Gail wore this.” or “I remember how cute this looked on Mae Ellen. She was so little then.”

Mary Ellen could not imagine Mae Ellen little or cute, so she just watched Aunt Cassie and didn’t say anything. When the suitcase was empty, Aunt Cassie snapped it shut. She fiddled with the broken clasp for a moment and then frowned. Marching to the end of the short wall she wisked open a small door. After placing the suitcase inside she closed the door and smiled at Mary Ellen.

“Well dear, now that’s all done,” she said.

Mary Ellen waited hoping she’s say more. But she didn’t.

Mary Ellen Chapter 5 - A NEW PLACE

2009-06-28T13:54:00.000-07:00

This a a very rough draft - Here is the next chapter.
The following is only partly true. It is merely the ruminations of long lost memories with dialog and actions randomly added so it will read more like a story.

Chapter 5
A NEW PLACE

The first thing Mary Ellen noticed the next morning was that her head was on a pillow. She’d never slept with a pillow in her crib. But she liked it. Especially the fresh air smell. She pressed her face into it and sucked in the smell. Then she turned over and looked around the room. She knew it was Gail’s room, because it had yellow walls and not pink walls like Mae Ellen’s. She liked the yellow walls much better than the pink walls. Maybe because she like Gail so much better than Mae Ellen.

A white table with one small drawer and a lamp on it sat next to the bed Mary Ellen was in. The bottom shelf of the table had a stack of books. Mary Ellen couldn’t read but she wished she could read them. They had brightly colored covers and she was sure they’d have pictures inside.

The bed on the other side of the table was empty. Mary Ellen slipped out of her bed and was surprised to find she had on a pink nightgown that was so long it dragged the floor. The sleeves were much wider than Mary Ellen needed. Someone had rolled them up just above her wrist. Between the color and the ample size Mary Ellen knew they must have belonged to Mae Ellen at one time.

Mary Ellen made her way down the stairs and through the living room into the bathroom. She closed the door and used the toilet. After washing her hands she dried them with the little green towel that hung on the side of the sink. She looked up at the mirror. All she could see was her short brown hair. It was sticking up all over like someone had combed it with an electric mixer. Mary Ellen thought it looked like it had a lot of un sleeping with a pillow. She stood on her tippy toes to see more. When she opened the door she heard voices in the kitchen.

Mary Ellen tiptoed toward the kitchen and listened.

“Here you go, dear.” Aunt Cassie’s voice.

“Thank you.” Gail’s voice, followed by the clatter of silverware on a plate.

“Are you finished, or would you like another prune?” Aunt Cassie again.

“No, thank you,” Mae Ellen said. “May I be excused?”

“Did you make your bed?” Aunt Cassie said.

“I will,” Mae Ellen came into the hall and spotted Mary Ellen. She made a face. “Mary Ellen’s not dressed,” she announced over her shoulder as she ran her hand down the pink dress she wore.

Mary Ellen went as far as the kitchen doorway. Aunt Cassie stood at the stove with her back to the door. Gail, who was already dressed looked up at Mary Ellen, her eyes popped wide open. The she smiled. A smile that looked like it hid a giggle. But it wasn’t mean.

Aunt Cassie turned and gasped. She stared at Mary Ellen's hair and her hand flew to cover her mouth. Without a word she produced the yellow phone book and plopped it on a chair. “Sit here, dear,” she said. “Today we will get you all settled and then tomorrow you can get dressed before you come down for breakfast. You do know how to dress yourself, don’t you?”

Mary Ellen nodded and climbed up onto the phone book. At home no one got dressed before breakfast. Sometimes Mary Ellen and her brothers wore pajamas all day, unless they went out.

Aunt Cassie placed a bowl of hot cereal in front of Mary Ellen. “Do you like brown sugar on your oatmeal?”

Mary Ellen nodded again.

“You should speak when you are spoken to dear.” Aunt Cassie stopped turning away from the table and waited.

“Yes,” Mary Ellen said. “I mean, yes, please.”

Aunt Cassie picked up a tin and pried off the lid. Using her fingers she sprinkled brown sugar onto Mary Ellen’s oatmeal. The sugar melted into dark brown puddles and Mary Ellen took a bite. It was so hot she spit it back into the bowl as fast as she could.

“Hot, hot, hot” Mary Ellen said, hanging her tongue as far out of her mouth as she could get it.

Gail’s mouth dropped open in amazement. Then she pushed her glass of milk toward Mary Ellen. “Here,” she said. “Take a drink. Quick.”

Mary Ellen grabbed the glass and gulped down half of it without too much splashing. The cool milk felt good on her tongue. Setting the glass down she carefully touched her tongue to the roof of her mouth. It hurt too.

“Oh dear,” Aunt Cassie said. She held the brown sugar tin in mid-air like she didn’t know what to do next. “You mustn’t spit out food. Uncle Lloyd would never allow that.” She looked into Mary Ellen’s bowl as if she didn’t know what to do with oatmeal that has once been in a mouth and now was splattered all over the top of the rest.

“Sorry,” Mary Ellen said. She scooped up a small bit of oatmeal, and blew on it.

Aunt Cassie hovered for a moment as if she wasn’t sure that the bowl of oatmeal was still edible. Mary Ellen blew so hard some of the oatmeal splattered across the table. Before Aunt Cassie could get another gasp out of her mouth Mary Ellen shoveled the oatmeal into her mouth. It wasn’t hot anymore but it did not feel good on her tongue or the roof of her mouth so she swallowed as fast as she could.

This time Aunt Cassie’s mouth dropped open. She looked at Mary Ellen for a moment and then without a word turned to the stove.

Gail openly stared at Mary Ellen. Still staring she picked up a little glass dish with three brown lumps about the size of Mary Ellen’s burnt tongue in it. She picked up a lump with her fork and popped it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed, picked up another, chewed and swallowed that and then the next. Setting the dish and fork down she asked, “May I be excused?”

“Yes, dear,” Aunt Cassie said without even looking at her.

That’s when Mary Ellen noticed the little glass dish with three brown lumps sitting on the table a few inches from her bowl of oatmeal. She eyed it and carefully took another bite of oatmeal. It wasn’t hot anymore, so she took another bite. She emptied the bowl as quick as a sneeze and asked, “May I be excused?”

Aunt Cassie turned to the table. Her eyes went from the splatters of oatmeal to the empty bowl to the glass dish of brown lumps. Mary Ellen could see she was making a hard decision. Aunt Cassie pressed her lip together and then in a very tired voice said, “yes, dear.”

Mary Ellen Chapter 4 - LEFT BEHIND

2009-06-17T07:24:00.000-07:00

This a a very rough draft - Here is the next chapter.
The following is only partly true. It is merely the ruminations of long lost memories with dialog and actions randomly added so it will read more like a story.

Chapter 4
LEFT BEHIND

"Put these on," her mother held out a pair of white underpants with faded yellow flowers. Mary Ellen recognized them. They had been in the cardboard box they=d taken home from Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Cassie's house a month ago. Mary Ellen=s cousins Gail and Mae Ellen were bigger than her so most of her clothes were hand me downs from them.

"And don't you dare wet these." Her mother handed her a faded pair of blue pedal pushers with wide cuffs and a big blue bottom on each leg. Mary Ellen tried to hide the smile. She loved the blue pedal pushers. As soon as her mother stormed out of the room Mary Ellen rummaged in the suitcase until she found the blue striped shirt that matched them.

"Dinner's ready," Aunt Cassie called. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen and rang a little silver bell.

Mary Ellen fold up her brown shirt and put it in the suitcase. She wondered why it held only her clothes. If they were staying overnight. Where were her mother's clothes?

In the dining room, Uncle Lloyd sat at the head of the table. His mustache sat on top of a straight nothing mouth. Mae Ellen sat on one side of him, with a mean smile on her face. Gail sat on the other side. She quickly looked down at her plate. Mary Ellen's mother sat next to Gail and Aunt Cassie had her hand on the back of the chair at the foot of the table.

Mary Ellen headed to the empty chair next to Mae Ellen. The smile on Mae Ellen's face made her get the feeling she had to go again but this time she held it. She slid onto the chair and tried to look as small as she could.

"Oh dear," Aunt Cassie said. "That will never do." She frowned at Mary Ellen and bustled out of the room. The sound of her mumbled "Oh dear, oh dear," drifted into the dining room. She scurried from the kitchen down toward her bedroom and then clambered down the stairs to the basement.

"I knew we should have kept the high chair," Aunt Cassie said to no one as she scurried through the dining room to the front hall. In a moment she was back holding a thick yellow phone book. "This will have to do for now," she said, and then "scoot," as she reached Mary Ellen's chair. Aunt Cassie plopped the big book on the chair and then quickly picked Mary Ellen up and plopped her right on top of it.

From her new higher position, Mary Ellen felt like she was sitting on top of the whole table for everyone to see. Before she could complain, Uncle Lloyd closed his eyes and bowed his head and began to pray. Mary Ellen stared as each person at the table copied him, quickly closing their eyes and bowing their heads.

Mae Ellen squinted one eye open. Her mouth dropped open and both eyes popped open. As soon as Uncle Lloyd said, "Amen," Mae Ellen pointed one fat finger at Mary Ellen and shouted, "She didn't close her eyes!" The she continued to point and run her other forefinger over the first chanting, "Shame, shame on you," in a singsong voice.

Uncle Lloyd's mouth looked fierce. His glare made it perfectly clear that Mary Ellen had better not ever keep her eyes open during a prayer again. Mary Ellen pressed her lips together to keep her words inside. Staring down at her plate she wondered why no one realized that Mae Ellen=s eyes must have been open during the prayer, too.

Aunt Cassie jumped up, rushed to the kitchen and came back with a salad. Using the silver tongs she'd also brought she scooped a pile of leaves onto Mary Ellen's plate and passed the bowl to Mary Ellen=s mother. When Mary Ellen reached for her spoon, Aunt Cassie, practically whispered, "No dear. This is your salad fork." She handed Mary Ellen the smaller fork that sat between a bigger fork and a green cloth napkin held in a roll with a large silver ring. Aunt Cassie pulled the napkin out of the ring, unfolded it and spread it on Mary Ellen's lap. "And don't forget your napkin, dear."

Mary Ellen looked at the leaves on the small plate that sat on top of a bigger plate in front of her. Some were dark green and shaped like almonds. Some were skinny and curly. And some were more brown than green. They were all shiny wet with something that had tiny brown lumps in it.

Next to her Mae Ellen stabbed a bunch of her leaves and stuffed them into her mouth making her fat cheeks bulge even more. She made a yum-yum sound that only Mary Ellen could hear. Mary Ellen sighed and stabbed one of the almond shaped leaves that didn't have too many brown lumps on it. It actually didn't taste nearly as bad as it looked.

Mary Ellen managed to eat enough leaves to satisfy Aunt Cassie, who went around the table and wisked each small plate off the larger ones. Then she scurried into the kitchen balancing the stack of plates and small forks. It took her several trips to serve a platter of roast beef, a bowl of mashed potatoes, another of green beans, and a gravy boat with the brown gravy she=d been stirring when Mary Ellen had been shoved past her in the kitchen.

Aside from Aunt Cassie quietly reaching over to cut her meat when Mary Ellen couldn't get her knife to do it, the meal was uneventful. Mary Ellen ate enough to earn a small scoop of pink ice cream served in a glass dish. She made the yum-yum sound inside as the ice cream melted in her mouth leaving sweet pieces of strawberries behind. Mary Ellen was just about to pick up the little glass bowl to lick the last of the ice cream when Uncle Lloyd cleared his throat. He nodded at Aunt Cassie.

"You girls may be excused," Aunt Cassie announced.

Usually Mae Ellen and Gail ignored Mary Ellen when she visited. They would go up stairs to their rooms and play with all their dolls or get out one of their games. They never invited Mary Ellen to play, so after watching them for a while she=d go down the stairs and out to the front porch.

Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Cassie's house had a wonderful front porch. Seven steps led down to the sidewalk from a wide smooth cement stoop. The stoop was surrounded by a short brick wall that was topped with cement. It looked like a yellow cake with lots of layers and a big square of smooth vanilla ice cream on top. The steps had a railing that matched. It was so regal looking, sometime Mary Ellen sat on the top step and pretended it was her throne. She'd look down the steps at the tree lined street and imagine she was a princess in a grand kingdom. Or sometimes she's be soldier crouching behind the stop wall with a stick gun pointed at approaching enemies.

Today, Mary Ellen slid off her chair and followed the girls. When they got to the hall at the bottom of the stairs, Mae Ellen scrunched up her nose like she smelled bad and said, "You are to stay out of my room."

"Okay," Mary Ellen said. She couldn't understand why Mae Ellen said that. She hardly ever went in Mae Ellen's room and when she did they were always busy playing and didn't invite her to join them. Gail looked at her with sad eyes. Mary Ellen couldn't figure out if Gail was sad for herself or someone else.

Mae Ellen stomped up the stairs to her room. Gail quietly followed. Mary Ellen watched them go until they reached the top. Mae Ellen turned and gave her a mean look and then flounced into her room.

Mary Ellen wandered into the living room. It was raining outside so the front porch would be wet. Besides she didn't know where her mother had put her coat during the wet pants incident. So she climbed up onto the big green couch. First she slid off and climbed up again several times. Then she slid from side to side which wasn't easy on the rough green upholstery. Finally she slid up against the big rolled arm at one end. She leaned back and snuggled into the corner. She didn't even realize that she slipped her thumb into her mouth right before she fell asleep.

The next thing she knew, Aunt Cassie was scooping her up off the couch and carrying into the bathroom. She closed the door, and helped her onto the toilet. After Mary Ellen went and wiped, Aunt Cassie helped her pull her pants up. She carried her up the stairs and into Gail's room.

Mary Ellen didn't notice that Gail's furniture had been rearranged to fit in another twin bed. She just snuggled up in between the fresh sheets and fell back to sleep.

Mary Ellen Chapter 3 - CAUSING TROUBLE ALREADY

2009-06-08T14:33:00.000-07:00

This a a very rough draft - Here is the next chapter.
The following is only partly true. It is merely the ruminations of long lost memories with dialog and actions randomly added so it will read more like a story.

Chapter 3
CAUSING TROUBLE ALREADY

The light brown pants Mary Ellen wore told everyone what happened right away.
Her mother reached behind her to shut the door and saw the dark wet spot right away. “Mary Ellen! You wet your pants! Why didn’t you tell me you had to go? Why didn’t you wait till we got here?”

Mary Ellen didn’t answer.

Her mother didn’t wait for an answer anyway. She grabbed Mary Ellen by the shoulder and shoved her past Aunt Cassie. Aunt Cassie had been stirring a big pot on the stove. She held the wooden spoon in midair and stared at Mary Ellen with a straight nothing mouth. Mary Ellen didn’t look at her. She just looked at the brown drips splashing off the end of the wooden spoon.

Uncle Lloyd’s mouth was now a frown. “I hope you didn’t do that in my car.”

Her mother pushed her into the bathroom. Without closing the door she bent over to pull down Mary Ellen’s pants. She shoved her onto the toilet and glared at her. “This is where you should have gone.”

Mary Ellen stared at her knees. There was a small bruise on her right knee with a little scratch she’d gotten from the gravel driveway at home. That was over a week ago. That was the day she’d found Paul up in the tree. He was laughing and shaking a little can that cried, “mama, mama.” Dangling from a lower branch she spotted her Mama Doll. The chest was torn open and it looked dead. When she ran toward the house to tell her mother she’d tripped and fallen. Paul laughed even harder.

Now, Mary Ellen ran her finger over the little scab.

“Don’t pick at that scab,” her mother yelled, “How many times do I have to tell you.”

Mary Ellen pulled her hand behind her back. She tried to go some more but she couldn’t.

“You are going to sit there until you go where you’re supposed to go,” her mother said.

Then she left the bathroom with the door wide open. Mary Ellen felt her face get hot. Her eyes felt scratchy, but she swallowed hard and stared at the bruise and scab.

It seemed to Mary Ellen like she sat on that toilet for hours. With the bathroom door open. Finally she quietly unrolled a few inches of toilet paper. She hoped off the toilet and dropped the paper in. She watched it melt into the clear water.

“I’m done,” Mary Ellen yelled. Then she flushed the toilet.

Her mother appeared at the door and grabbed her hand. She pulled Mary Ellen out into the hall and down to Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Cassie’s bedroom. Mary Ellen saw the brown suitcase on the bed, but all she could think about was her bare bottom. Then her mother popped open the suitcase and dug through the clothes inside. Mary Ellen’s clothes.

Mary Ellen - Chapter 2 - A NEW FAMILY

2009-06-05T10:41:00.000-07:00

This a a very rough draft - Here is the next chapter.
The following is only partly true. It is merely the ruminations of long lost memories with dialog and actions randomly added so it will read more like a story.

Chapter 2
A New Family

Mary Ellen peered out of the back window of the car. Every house on the street was built of brick and each one lined up neatly behind a sidewalk. Uncle Lloyd and her mother were so busy talking they didn’t notice the nose prints Mary Ellen left on the window. When her mother had bundled her into the black ‘46 Ford less than an hour earlier, Mary Ellen had wondered why she’d shoved the brown suitcase with one broken clasp onto the seat next to her. She glanced over at the suitcase now and wondered what was in it. Something her mother wanted to give Aunt Cassie? Or maybe clothes for them to stay overnight?

They didn’t need to worry about getting home for her brothers. Paul and Pat had been staying at the Anderson's house for almost a week. Mary Ellen didn’t know why they were staying there. Yesterday she had managed to pull open the top drawer on the brown dresser next to her crib. It was empty. And neither Paul or Pat had slept in the big bed on the other side of the dresser since they went to visit the Anderson's after church on Sunday. At four and a half Mary Ellen still liked to sleep in the crib, but she wished she could try sleeping in the big bed. As long as it was empty anyway.

Uncle Lloyd turned down an alley where garages lined up behind the brick houses. When he stopped to get out and open the door of one of the garages Mary Ellen watched him carefully. He pulled the two black handles and then pushed two big doors aside. He looked at Mary Ellen with blank eyes and a straight mouth under his neat mustache. He didn't look mad, or even upset. He looked like he didn't feel anything.

As soon as Uncle Lloyd parked the car in the garage, he jumped out and opened the back door on the other side of the car. He gave Mary Ellen the same nothing look as he pulled the brown suitcase off the seat. Before she could say anything, her mother opened the door next to Mary Ellen and grabbed her hand.

"Here we go, Mary Ellen," her mother said.

Mary Ellen grasped her mother's hand and slipped out of the car into the dimly lit garage. Sparkles of dust glittered in the air near the one little window. They disappeared when Uncle Lloyd thrust open a door and then walked out the two big doors. He slammed them shut from the outside.

As Mary Ellen and her mother stepped out the side door she looked up at her mother. Her hair was short and dark blond as usual. She wore her red coat with her yellow knitted scarf around her neck . But her mouth looked just like Uncle Lloyd's. Except without the mustache. It was straight and looked like - nothing.

Uncle Lloyd passed them on the narrow sidewalk and led the way to the green wooden door at the back of the house. He swung the brown suitcase. Mary Ellen hoped it would pop open so she could see what was inside. Maybe her mother was bringing something to Aunt Cassie. Something like books or blankets. Maybe putting them in the suitcase was the best way to carry them.

Mary Ellen had been to Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Cassie's house before, but she'd never gone it the back door. Going in the back door did not seem right. Mary Ellen wanted to pull her hand out of her mother's grip and run around to the front door. Then Aunt Cassie would open it wide and smile at her and her mother and welcome them in.

Instead Uncle Lloyd shoved open the green back door and walked right in instead of holding it for them. None of this felt right to Mary Ellen and suddenly she got that feeling that she might wet her pants. She knew wetting her pants would upset her mother and maybe even Uncle Lloyd and Aunt Cassie, but she let it happen anyway. It was better to upset everyone than to have them look like nothing.

Mary Ellen - Chapter 1 THE BEGINNING (back story)

2009-06-04T08:20:00.000-07:00

This a a very rough draft - but you asked for it!

The following is only partly true. It is merely the ruminations of long lost memories with dialog and actions randomly added so it will read more like a story.

Chapter 1
THE BEGINNING (back story)

Even before Mary Ellen was born it seemed that life shaping events took place without her consent or even the slightest consideration of how Mary Ellen would be affected. While this is actually true for every child, for Mary Ellen it was the beginning of a pattern.

Mary Ellen's father, William Michael Sheehan, was born on July 21, 1913 in Chicago, Illinois. His typically rowdy Irish family lived in Oak Forest, Illinois, a tiny community about 25 miles south of Chicago. Bill grew up with 2 brothers and 3 sisters. He had a great sense of humor and "everyone liked Bill Sheehan." As an adult he was asked to be the godfather of countless children and during the ceremony would always would add the name Aloysius to the name chosen by the parents. He thought this was quite amusing. His rich tenor voice often added entertainment to the atmosphere at local bars.

Three years after Bill was born Elein Evelyn Nielsen entered the world on October 10, 1916. Most likely they were both born at the same Chicago hospital since Elein also went home to Oak Forest. Elein, which is pronounced Ellen, and later legally changed to the conventional spelling, joined a more sedate Danish family with an older brother and three years later on March 13th a younger sister was born. Another baby lived only 3 months and the youngest sister was also born March 13th thirteen years later during Elein's late teens.

Since Oak Forest was a very small town Bill and Elein knew each other. Elein went to school with Bill's sister and by the time they were old enough to date they ran with the same crowd and often dated each others friends. At that time they never developed a romantic relationship and apparently had no interest in each other.

As a young adult, Bill was taken under the wing of a local widow who owned a funeral home. He learned the trade and intended to make it a career until WWII changed the lives of every American. Bill joined the Army on June 1, 1943.

Meanwhile Elein graduated from high school, moved into Chicago with a girlfriend and enjoyed life as a typical young adult. She was beautiful and sought out by many eligible young men and soon became engaged to a man from Wisconsin .

Three weeks later on June 21st Elein's life changed even more dramatically. On her way to work at Continental Bank Ellen, who had moved to Chicago, walked down the sidewalk toward the train station. A gasoline transport truck was hit by a train and slide into Ellen dragging her along the sidewalk and finally throwing her through the plate glass window of a furniture store. For the next six weeks headlines in the Chicago Tribune speculated as to whether Ellen would ever come out of the coma and live a normal life. Her fiancee did not hang around to find out if she would be a vegetable.

Ellen did wake up and seemed to be completely normal mentally however her injures were extensive. Her father fought with the doctors to save her right arm which they wanted to amputate. After seventeen operations her arm survived although it had to be permanently fixed in a bent position.

Recovery took a long time and left Ellen with partial use of her right arm and foot problems that would plague her for the rest of her life. While Ellen spent the next years in and out of the hospital and Bill served in the Army, many of their friends and siblings were getting married.
Bill came home on leave while Ellen was between surgeries. It was not a huge surprise when they went to a courthouse in Chicago and got married on August 6, 1944. Bill sisters felt he married her out of pity, but he said he loved her. Regardless of the reason for their marriage a few months later Bill was deployed to Europe.

Their first child, Paul Michael was born while Bill was overseas on August 6, 1945. Bill came home for a while and then was again deployed when their second son was born on March 8, 1947. He was named Patrick James. Bill was home on March 27, 1949 for the birth of his only daughter, Mary Ellen, but soon left again for Korea.

In Korea Bill was elevated to Captain as a wartime commission. He finally left the Army with a honorable discharge in 1954, but by that time the marriage was on rocky ground. The widow he had worked for before going into the army had died and the funeral business in Oak Forest was taken over by another funeral parlor. So Bill worked to get a realty broker certificate and opened his own real estate office at the corner of 159th and Cicero in Oak Forest.

In 1953, Ellen had started divorce proceedings and farmed the kids out to friends and family. Mary Ellen went to live with Ellen=s older brother and his family in Alsip, Illinois. His wife Cassie and Ellen had been fast friends and even played on a women=s basketball team together before Ellen=s accident. Lloyd and Cassie had two girls Mae Ellen, who was ten years old and Gail who was eight. Only four years old Mary Ellen did not quite fit into the family.

Rudy the Rat

2009-06-03T09:20:00.000-07:00

I tried Bob the Rat instead of Rudy the Rat and it did not work for me or 5 out of 6 people in Ma'ams. So I'm thinking about changing Rudy the boy's name to . . .
Matthew. I checked:
http://www.ssa.gov/OACT/babynames/
which is a great resource for this kind of thing and Matthew is in the top ten for boys names for the last ten years. It was 3 or 4 for several of those years. I was debating between Mark and Matthew and with this info I think I'm going with Matthew. Matt Montgomery sounds good to me. And I think Becca will like that it rhymes with rat and is the name of something a person wipes their feet on. I also like SempMatthew, after all it is a book in the Bible ;o)

Too Busy

2009-06-03T09:13:00.000-07:00

Life is even busier now that I'm on facebook. I'm considering putting a story on here that is a fictionalized memoir I started writing for NYNNies which is an on line group that initially committed to writing a book in the month of January. (New Year New Novel) I feel the best choice is to think that one through. It would be a way for my kids to read it, and since my daughter has asked me many times to write it maybe I should. In this case I think procrastination might be a good thing.

I finally did it!

2009-05-28T17:08:00.000-07:00

After months of procrastinating, I've finally done it - I created a facebook page! Check it out at Mary Sheehan Sandford. It was actually fun to do and user friendly, but I did develop some new skills. Tagging photos and making sure certain messages are private. Biggest problem is exactly what I'd avoided all this time . . . facebook can be a major time waster. But it is fun!

What's up today

2009-05-27T08:39:00.000-07:00

The first thing on my to do list this morning was clean Mary Jane's cage. Mary Jane is my pet rat. I know everyone reading this just said euww. . . but buying this rat was research for the manuscript I am currently working on - Semps, Deebogs, and Rudy the Rat. However, last night at my critique group I finally decided to change the name of the rat in my story. Everyone at group was very nice about it but I could read there minds. "It's about time she realized that." "Finally, how many time did we have to tell her it was confusing." "I kept asking why that name and she kept saying it's part of the story but it never was." "Good for you Mary!" and "YES!!" My group is really great!

So, it's now almost 11 am I have haven't cleaned the cage yet, but I have done a lot of other fun things. Reading email. Talking to my daughter on the phone. Admiring the flowers I finally planted over the weekend. Glaring at the gravel in our driveway and feeling like they are never going to pour the cement. (We've had gravel since November!) But mostly new names for the rat in my story have been bouncing around in my head. I like Bob a lot but after our discussion last night I'm determined to have a reason for the name. So I'm off to clean the cage. Maybe Mary Jane has some ideas.

Final knees comments

2009-05-27T08:25:00.000-07:00

Okay I admit I failed miserably at documenting my progress with my knee surgery. It just wasn’t any fun! After asking many people for many months how long it would take to completely recover (everyone is different was the most common answer-which tells me nothing) I finally found someone who had both knees replaced 7 years ago. I met her when I was in the hospital for a blood clot which led to Coumadin and other meds that were awful. But that’s a whole blog in itself. Anyway, she said it was the best thing she ever did, but that I should expect it to take about 2 years to heal completely. Wow and here I was expecting 3 months.

Originally my doctor was going to replace my knees one at a time and he said I could have the second one replaced about 3 months after the first. So it seemed logical to me that in 3 months I’d be pretty much healed. Not! By 3 months or so I could do most anything, including walking in sand which was a great improvement, but I still feel an annoying tightness caused by swelling, I think, in both knees all the time. So to me that is not completely healed. Now that I know how long this will really take I’m okay with it and can go back to my regular life and forget about the knees. Which is why this is my last post on the subject.

2008-09-22T07:51:00.000-07:00

Only one week until the surgery. Last Thursday, I went to the dentist to have my teeth cleaned and checked for anything that might cause an infection. The hygienist told me anytime I go to the dentist in te future, even for a cleaning I will have to take an antibiotic to ward off possible complications from bacteria or infection getting into my bloodstream.
Later on Thursday, I went to my primary care physician for a pre-op check. He confirmed the need for antibiotics before visiting the dentist. He also said I am the youngest person he knows of to have double knee replacement.
I have a real peace about the whole procedure, although I admit I never think about the specific details. That grosses me out. But ultimately I’m confident that God is in control of my life so I am not afraid.

Surgery

2008-09-17T12:35:00.000-07:00

On July 15 I went to the doctor for yet another appoinment about my knees. I started having problems with my knees almost 20 years ago. In the beginning I was told I have a genetic defect with both my knecaps being flat on the back, but as time went on the doctors began calling it arthritis. I've done months of therapy at least four times. This time the doctor said I needed both my knees replaced.
So, on September 29, that's what I'll be doing. I'm a little nervous and have decided it is best to not think about the details. I feel confident that God is in control so there is really no need to worry.

First Entry

2007-11-21T10:12:00.001-08:00

This is my first attempt at a blog. Someday I may be sorry that I spilled my guts here but I'll try to maintain some self control and keep the real messy stuff to myself.
This past summer has been the busiest summer of my life. And since I have a big family that's is saying a lot. I call it MY SUMMER OF TWOS PLUS ONE. It all started on Mother's Day weekend. When our quick romantic weekend - grew and GREW and G R E W ! !
First, my wonderful stepdaughter planned a small wedding to take place on the Saturday before Mother's Day in the Black Hills of South Dakota. So, I bought tickets for a weekend in the Black Hills. Then my Marine daughter and her Marine husband to have our beautiful granddaughter dedicated on Mother's Day. So, we extended our trip to go from Rapid City on Saturday night (figured the bride and groom would be busy anyway) and added an extra night in San Marcos California. Then our youngest son who attends UT in Austin (go Longhorns) reminded me that was the same time he needed to be picked up from school to come home (Chicagoland) for the summer. So we added another leg to our trip - to Texas. Since we were already going to be in Texas and the flight to Dallas was cheaper we stopped off to visit friends in Keller, TX. Then believe it or not my husband had to go directly from Texas to North Carolina for business. That left me and my son to drive home with a rented car loaded to the max, alone. We decided to stop off at my daughter's house in Tennessee. They were happy to show my son their new house and we didn't mind turning the 12 hour drive into 17 hours. So long story short I had an extended trip to 4 states.
That was just the beginning . . . more to follow as soon as a get home from yet another trip to TN for Thanksgiving. So have a happy one all you blogaholics.