#athomeintheworld

I am currently reading At Home in the world: Reflections on Belonging While Wandering the Globe, written by Tsh Oxenreider.  It’s a memoir of a family's trip around the world: mom, dad, and three children whose ages (I believe at the time of the trip) are nine, six and four, a daughter and two younger sons.   The family sells their home in Oregon and spends one year traveling the globe; giving the children an education of a lifetime.  

I've been enjoying Tsh's writing so much I looked for her blog, The Art of Simple.  This week on her blog she asked readers to reflect on where they feel at home in the world,  and/or why they've chosen to stay at the place they call home.

As I read her book of adventure, her fears and reflections on life as a  global wanderer, one thing comes to mind over and over:  I could not do this.  As much as I would love to think I would be adventurous enough, in my heart of hearts I doubt it.  I don't dislike travel.  While I've traveled to Mexico enough that I've lost count, (mostly as a youngster when my Hispanic grandparents lived in south Texas), and I traveled abroad once, (a short trip to England to visit our daughter while she was studying there) both of these countries have a familiarity that didn't force me out of my comfort zone.  And although it may have at one time been a dream on my bucket list that we would wait to be empty nesters to embark on such adventures, now that we are empty nesters, one of us retired and the other just a year away,  I'm afraid I've lost my nerve. The world, just in the last eight years since my trip to England, is a vastly different place. 

Now my idea of traveling is to drive our motor home to scenic destinations, where I speak the language if not the dialect, savor local dishes and sites, but always return to my own bed at the end of the day.   The motor home is my comfort zone, the place where I feel is still my home.  My bucket list dream now is to drive our motor home across the country and see as many states as possible.  

At times we think of selling our home, live in the motor home, and dump the increasingly overwhelming upkeep that comes with home and land ownership. Once before in our married life we were homeless.  I was pregnant with our third child, (we have four), and my husband was working about three hours away.  He was working long hours, lots of overtime, which only allowed him to come home on the weekends.  The hotel my husband stayed at allowed the families of the employees who worked for my husband's company to stay for free.  We made the decision to put everything in storage and put the money we would be saving on rent towards a down payment on a home.  We had a great time while living in the hotel.  I delivered our second son while living there.  And I really only missed two things about a conventional home, a yard to plant things in and a kitchen to cook in.  The RV has a kitchen.  

This is the first and only home we've ever owned.  A home we've been in for thirty two years.  We moved in the spring before our oldest started kindergarten.  Our fourth (youngest) child was born the next spring.  At sometime when I wasn't looking that same youngest child carved her name into the banister that overlooks the great room.  And I planted...a lot: cherry trees, two forsythias in memory of my brothers when they passed away, a magnolia tree, and too many perennials to name. 

Our home sits in the center of a rural community which served as the county seat in the 1800's.  Over our time here it's been great fun to learn the local history.  At one time this little community had a school, general store, and a church that is adjacent to our property.  The school no longer stands, the store is falling down, so when the church became available twenty years ago we bought it.  Our oldest daughter was married there in 2008.  

There's so many reasons we've chosen to stay in our home all of these years.  The rural setting, the small town where our children attended school, are just two of the reasons it was a great place to raise a family. Move a blurring fast forward and it's been wonderful to watch our grandchildren play in the same places their parents did.  We've been lucky that all of our children and grandchildren are, at the most, 45 minutes away.  

When we inevitably do leave our home I know what I've planted here over the years are what I will miss the most.  Maybe home will always be where most of my memories are planted.

A Hobo's Life

Four years ago all I could think about was how I wanted a little dog.  I wanted something smaller, older, slower, and starved for love. He also had to be good tempered around small grandchildren.  Problem was, my husband was not thinking about dogs whatsoever.  And yet I persisted with my search.  Eventually I found an ad from a rescue center for an adorable little guy about two hours from where we live.  It said he was nine years old, trained, and great with kids.  I sent an email to my husband, one he's kept all this time.  The day we brought him home it was clear to us he was just a little Hobo.  So that’s what we named him.

At first he didn't want anything to do with us.  He'd snap at us and growl when we tried to pick him up.  But we were sure we could love him enough to gain his trust, although we would have to kennel him when the grandchildren were visiting.  When we took him to the vet they told us he was older than nine, more like twelve or thirteen years old.   As for what we thought were just "accidents" in the house and would get better with time.....never did.  It eventually became clear that this dog did not care about using the great outdoors for his restroom.  Inside suited him just fine.  You could have just brought him in from outside and he would hike his leg and pee on the floor.  He became a kitchen dog.  But as my husband said, "In for a penny, in for a pound."

One night while fixing dinner he was circling my husband’s feet.  Paul had just put a ham steak on a platter.  So my husband did what we thought everyone did for their dogs, he gave him the bone as a special treat.  Hobo swallowed it whole.  This was 8:00 p.m.  The local vet met us at his office and took some x-rays.  The only way Hobo could be saved was to drive him into the city and have it surgically removed.  We had no idea there were all night animal hospitals. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”  It was about 4:00 a.m. when we returned home.

Hobo went on all of our RV trips, not just local trips but Colorado, Maryland, and Texas.  To a stranger Hobo looked to be a puppy.  He was a true “babe magnet”, especially on the beach.  We liked to imagine this was just a continuation of the life he led before, but now the accommodations were much better.  My husband would tell great stories of Hobo’s earlier life, in Hobo’s voice of course.  Jumping trains, circus life, war stories, and oh the females he loved and the puppies he fathered!!

After some time Hobo really slowed down.  At first it was hard for him to get used to.  He was bow legged and walked with a bit of a prance.  Sometimes his legs would give him trouble and slide out from underneath him.  Some days he’d be in the yard with us and he would literally bounce, what we would call “frolic”.   The next day he wouldn’t be able to get out of bed.

 

Then we noticed he was becoming senile.  We would let him out and he would forget how to get back to the front door.   Once I let him out in the middle of the night and later I was army crawling under our deck to retrieve him.  After that his eye sight failed.  He would wander around, find himself in a corner, and not know how to back himself out of it.  He wouldn’t be able to find his food and water bowl until he walked through it a couple of times.  At times we were just sure he was not long for this world, but he would always bounce back.  He’s been this way for about the last year. 

Eventually we put two of those small animal play pens together on our deck and when he needed to do his business we would put him in there and then just hose it off.  One thing Hobo would never do was lay down when he was outside.  Last Thursday when we went to bring him in he was lying down.  He couldn’t stand.  We tried rolling towels up creating a cushion for him to lie on with his legs extended, hoping it would help.   By Monday he was unable to lift his head enough to eat.

My husband said it was like he was in hospice and we were just waiting for him to die.  Neither one of us have ever been faced with this decision before.  Is it really humane to decide when an animal should die?  Really?  We took him in on Tuesday.  Unbeknownst to us until later that evening, it was national pet day.  What a complete kick in the pants.

Now there’s an overwhelming void in our house.  Even the house itself seems to be making noises it didn’t use to make. 

Hobo was an old, grumpy, at times pain in the ass who I believe at most just learned to tolerate us.  But we loved the curmudgeon.  And he was as cute as any dog I've ever seen.  My daughter said we gave him a good retirement home.  At least we brought him in from his life on the road.

Making Memories

From the time I was a girl I remember imagining what it would be like to be a grandmother.  Both of my grandmothers were a big part of my life, but they weren’t a part of my play.  We didn’t have sleepovers, unless my parents were along, and I don’t remember sitting on their laps reading together or having conversations.   Children played and adults visited.   

What I do remember most about my grandmothers were their homes, down to the smallest detail.  I often dream about those homes now as an adult.  It's a bit sad that I didn’t grow up feeling as connected to the women my grandmothers were as much as the connection I have to their homes. 

Now that I am a grandmother I do my best to create memories my grandchildren will carry with them.  I make them things, and we make things together.  They never come for a visit when I don't have a "project" handy for us to work on. 

  

One day a few weeks ago my oldest grandchild, Olivia, asked me to teach her how to knit.   I was skeptical.  I taught myself to knit as a young woman.  I wasn't sure an almost nine-year-old would have the dexterity/agility to manage the needles.  But her birthday was approaching and I was grasping for suitable and interesting  gifts for a nine-year-old girl.  So I began to research teaching children to knit. 

I decided to make this her gift.  I bought a knitting kit with child needles, some extra yarn, a spool knitting doll, an amazing knitting book for children, wrapped it up in a pretty decorative box with a ribbon, and gave it to her with the promise of a sleepover and a knitting lesson.  The sleepover was also to include a viewing of the new Disney Beauty and the Beast movie and some St. Patrick's day shenanigans.  

After our busy day she was a bit too excited and distracted and I thought twice about mentioning the knitting lesson.  But we started, with a little frustration.  Then there was a moment when I could tell something clicked.  Sure there were mistakes, but she had the concept.  And she was having fun.  That moment became a moment I will always treasure. 

Later in the evening she told her mom on the phone, "I'm knitting and I'm great at it."  She started out with the intention of knitting her mom a potholder but time was running short and she wanted to make sure she knew how to stop knitting.  So the potholder became a fairy blanket and she learned to do a basic bind off.   

First thing the next morning she grabbed the needles and the book.  She looked up how to cast on and did it again, without help from me.  I knew then my choice in books was a good one, and that a memory and hopefully a skill was born.

Get it here.

If you live here in Franklin County Kansas, I’m asking you to take the time read this post.

As of today, President Trump has been in office for 48 days.  Whether or not you voted for him, are you staying informed to see if he’s making good on his promises?  The realization of what a Trump presidency looks like is being laid out before us.  Are the actions of this administration beneficial to you and your loved ones, your friends and neighbors?    

Take for example the new Republican health care plan rolled out this week.  Did you know the new health care plan will greatly change how seniors pay for their health care?  Did you know that the maximum $4,000 tax credit will only afford, at most a catastrophic plan?  This means that seniors will have to pay for their daily health care out of pocket.  How will seniors on fixed incomes afford their regular doctor visits and medication?  This plan will dismantle Medicaid.  This is just one example of the new administration’s changes that frightens me.  So much of what this administration has done these past 48 days has made me want to do more than just complain to my family and friends  

No matter your party affiliation, are you feeling you’re not being represented in Washington?  Do you want to make sure the people who were voted into office are held accountable, are listening to their constituents, are doing their job?  Would you like to make a stand for issues important to you, a stand to protect policies that protect your way of life? 

Last night my husband and I attended a meeting held here locally.  Franklin Action Network is a newly formed group in association with Indivisible.  If you are unfamiliar with this group you can read about them here: https://www.indivisibleguide.com/web/

If you're like me, you've never been more politically active than making sure you vote in every election.  But now with the country divided, hate crimes knocking on my door, and I'm watching the rights won by those who went before me threatened to be revoked, I'm ready to do my part. It's empowering to find others who feel the same.

So in a way, this is a help wanted add.  We accomplish more when our numbers are greater.  The next meeting is scheduled for March 28.  Time and place are to be determined. It you're interested, and I so hope you are, message me or comment below and I will get you the information as soon as it's given.

We're just a group of regular folks living in Kansas who can no longer sit on our hands.  We're a group who believes knowledge is power.  A group finding a way to make our voices heard.

Sleepover and Climate

This weekend we had a fun-filled sleepover with our 5 and 8 year-old granddaughters.  We spent the evening making paper dolls, something they hadn’t seen before.  Yesterday we went for a nature walk and a walk in the “forest” (the woods surrounding our property).  They carried baskets and collected seed pods, moss, bark, rocks and some snail shells.  They schlepped it all back up the hill and built a fairy house, the first of the season.

And while this post is about the wonderful time I have as a grandmother spending these moments sharing the things I love with them. And it’s about the hilarious things they say, especially the five-year-old, i.e. “Did you know I can speak to all the animals because I know all of their languages?”  And “When I sleep I can see my brain.”  There’s something more I want to say here.

Yesterday as we did all of these amazing things outside I had to remind the girls it was not spring but indeed, it’s still winter.  Yesterday, February 19 was 76 degrees, our sixth day in the seventies this month.  And while today will make it to a high in the sixties, we have another 3 days forecast to hit the seventies this week.  This is eastern Kansas.  This is the time for hot chocolate, snow and building snowmen, extended cold, and yes possible dreaded ice storms.  And while in the past I can remember a very few times we might have had one or two warm days this time of year I certainly don’t ever remember a time like this. What an incredible stretch of weather we've seen across the country this month.

Along with my gratefulness for this warm day in February spent with grandchildren in the woods was a feeling of concern; what changes in climate lay ahead in their futures?  Let’s face it, the past four weeks has brought me much fear for their futures in general, as well as their parents’ futures, and ours.

So, that being said I want to share this link with information about the March for Science on April 22.  I hope you will consider finding a march near you and taking part in this important event.

Meanwhile I will continue to enjoy this stretch of winter warmth but also continue to do my part in protecting the environment and paying attention to what the science community is telling us.   I hope you will too. Does it seem a bit conceited that we, laymen citizens, or even our politicians would assume to know more?

Why So Sensitive?

I just read a post shared on my Facebook news feed.  Maybe you’ve seen it; An open letter to Meryl Streep. In the letter the writer claims what Ms. Streep said in her speech was insulting to President Elect Trump and by proxy the people who voted for him.

 In the comments under the post one after another of Mr. Trump’s supporters said that Ms. Streep bashed our new president and tried to make his supporters feel like idiots for voting for him.

What I’m asking is all the people who were so offended by Ms. Streep to read the transcript of her speech again.  She didn’t bash Mr. Trump.  She didn’t ridicule him.  She didn’t mention his name. 

What she did was speak of the gestures President Elect Trump made when trying to imitate the handicapped reporter.  This is well documented.  Ms. Streep did not make this up.  What she did say was when someone in power humiliates someone without the capacity to fight back it opens the door for others to do the same.  “Disrespect invites disrespect.”

A teacher is the leader of the classroom.  If she “mocked' a handicapped student in the class wouldn’t the other students in the class see this as acceptable behavior? 

Read the speech and watch it again.  It’s available here and on youtube.  Ms. Streep was being honored.  It was her moment.  She’s free to use that moment to say whatever she wants in the time she’s allowed.

And most importantly, here’s the thing, never, and I mean NEVER in the past eight years have I ever felt like someone else was making me feel anything but pride in my choice for president.  I was proud to vote for him.  I feel the same about all the people I have voted for, including both of the Clintons. 

So for those who voted for Mr. Trump, deep down in your hearts and in your souls, stand up and be proud of the man you voted for to lead our country and represent our values.  He represents you.

Nine Sweaters, One Pattern

If you are friends with me on Facebook then you might already know that I make handmade gifts for Christmas; most often knitted ones.  Four years ago I made matching sweaters for the grandchildren.  There were only three grandchildren at the time; now we have 8!

This year I decided it might be time to knit sweaters again. I chose a cardigan pattern, Antler by Tin Can Knits.  I can't tell you what a delight it was to knit this pattern!  I loved it so much I knitted one for myself and now I'm considering converting the pattern from a cardigan to a pullover.  I started in late August.  I finished the 8 grandchildren sweaters a few days before Christmas Eve.

For cost conservation I chose to knit them in Caron Simply Soft yarn.  They have a wide range of colors and easy care instructions.

I finished mine last Sunday.

For as difficult as it is to ask 8 children to sit still for a photograph, on Christmas Eve no less, I thought the photo turned out amazingly well.