tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60803487854747248152024-03-04T23:40:06.341-06:00Mother Connie Sez...Here is a soft place to land; a place where we can exchange ideas about health, wealth and everything between. There will be ideas, products, encouragement and techniques to help people enhance their lives.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.comBlogger272125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-61739838532762930332016-02-24T15:11:00.000-06:002016-02-24T15:11:37.150-06:00Joys and Concerns<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>These Johnson County Women are three of the JOYS of our local Community Action Office!</b><br />
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Our local <a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">SENCA</a> office has an Outreach Worker, Terri Brethouwer, and she is assisted by her Advisory Board. I am honored to sit on this board.<br />
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On every agenda there is a topic we call "Joys and Concerns" which includes things we feel need some attention. It may be that we agree that we need new furniture for the entry room. *<i>We did! And we are so delighted with the new chairs for the clients to sit in as they wait for the Handi Bus or wait to have an appointment with Terri. </i>We also agreed that new carpet was in order because the old one was beyond shampooing. *<i>THAT happened, too! And we bought locally so that supports our community! </i>Our Women of Distinction event, an annual program which recognizes the women in Johnson County, NE, is one of our greatest joys.<br />
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When it comes to concerns I plan to campaign for repair of the poorly working fluorescent light<br />
above the serving counter/coffee center in the dining room. It blinks and goes very dim. Since the area is meant for Seniors to use I feel this is a safety issue. <br />
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Another thing that happens at the Center is the Tuesday morning Breakfast Bunch! The Normanator and I are always game to wake very early in order to put our toes under the table and meet with our fellow Seniors for the great food<a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank"> Loretta Pope</a> prepares for us and the conversation. *People in general love to eat and love to visit with others!<br />
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<b>The Breakfast Bunch</b></div>
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<i>Lola, The Normanator, Larry, Craig, Wilma, Twila, Gertrude, Mary</i></div>
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<i>*Not pictured: Eldon, Connie and Kay</i></div>
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Tuesday breakfast is not the only thing Loretta reigns over...she prepares the noon congregate meal for Seniors and she sends many, many take-out meals every noon! The Meals on Wheels are prepared in her SENCA kitchen with the regular help of a volunteer, Sharon Snyder. Our SENCA meal programs run more smoothly because of Mary Sand. Sometimes Kevin VanLanningham offers his assistance, as well. <br />
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Every weekday mid morning a large group of fellows from retirees to professionals to farmers to ministers crowd around the table to solve the world's problems and drink coffee. It is an institution all on its own and they enjoy one another's company immensely, even when opinions clash! It's all about guys bonding and debating every issue that comes up!<br />
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When our local Advisory Board meets in March I will voice my own personal concerns: <u>Why don't more</u> <u>people come to share their lunch</u>? (It only costs $2.75) <u>How come more people don't come for</u> <u>breakfast on Tuesday mornings?</u> For that meal, you'll have to pony up $1.25 for the meal and $.25 for a tip for the cook! Surely that's affordable even for Seniors! <br />
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According to their website, <a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">SENCA</a> offers a wide range of services that are aimed at the reduction of poverty, the revitalization of low income communities and the empowerment of low income individuals and families to become self sufficient. The services and activities offered have a measurable and potentially major impact in causes of poverty in the community. <a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">SENCA</a> works with participants to increase and improve their skills, knowledge, and motivations to secure the opportunities needed for them to become self sufficient. The services and activities offered have a measurable and potentially major impact on causes of poverty in the community.<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 24px;"> </span><br />
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Lots of good things happen at our Action Center in Tecumseh, NE:<br />
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<li><u><b>Food Pantry</b></u>: The<a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank"> SENCA</a> office and food pantry is located on the East side of the square in Tecumseh.</li>
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<li><u><b>Cooking Classes</b></u>: These are offered 4 times a year. There is no charge for them but attendees need to reserve their space by phoning <b>402 335 2134</b>.</li>
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<li><u style="font-weight: bold;">Tax Preparation</u>: Terri can help with this and can make referrals, as well.</li>
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<li><u style="font-weight: bold;">Chore Assistance</u>: For Seniors who live at home but cannot manage cleaning and yard care as they once could, help can be arranged for them. Terri can help you with a referral.</li>
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<li><b><u>Health Insurance Assistance</u></b>: Special training has been arranged for Terri regarding the ACA. She is a certified Navigator.</li>
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<li><b><u>Congregate Noon Meals</u></b>: To reserve your noon meal Monday through Friday, call <b>402 335 2134</b> . The cost is $2.75.</li>
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<li><b><u>Take Out Noon Meals</u></b>: By calling <b>402 335 2134 </b>before 9 AM on Monday through Friday you can arrange to pick up your food at the SENCA center. Those meals cost $3.00.</li>
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<li><b><u>Weatherization</u></b>: SENCA offers assistance for low income and Seniors to make their homes safer and more comfortable.</li>
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<li><b><u>SENCA Smart</u></b>: Here is a program to help 8th grade and senior students learn to navigate money management.</li>
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<li><u style="font-weight: bold;">Family Development</u>: This is a quest to keep anyone-singles or families-from poverty and help them to become successful by learning how to budget their income, manage their spending and save for the future.</li>
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<li><b><u>Poverty Simulation Programs</u></b>: Students role play real life simulations where they have to work and/or go to school while caring for family members, shop for food, and arrange for transportation as well as apply for loans. It is a light hearted way of teaching a serious subject with the goal of keeping people from living in poverty.</li>
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<li><b><u>Backpack Program</u></b>: To make sure all students have adequate nutrition on the weekend, when school lunch programs are not available, backpacks are filled every week at the SENCA office.</li>
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Our local<a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank"> SENCA </a>office also is available for rental. If a family has a celebration or reunion, they may arrange to rent the facility on weekends, when the building is available. That is the location of some of our fund raising campaigns, such as the Potato Bake which will be held in April 21 of 2016.</div>
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<a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">SENCA</a> is having a big birthday on May 2, 2016. We are half a century old! Look for festivities to abound as 2016 rolls along.</div>
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As you can plainly see, we have far more joys than concerns. How can it get any better than this?</div>
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<b><a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">Connie Baum</a></b></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-75689435458130416142016-02-18T15:23:00.000-06:002016-02-18T15:23:22.576-06:00Con Can Cook<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Mother Connie</b></div>
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Public television carried a wildly popular cooking program long before most of you who are reading this existed. It featured a charming and talented Asian gentleman named Yan. He called his show, as you might expect, "Yan Can Cook." I watched every episode I could.</div>
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Because I'm a bit of an imp, I pinched that title and restyled it a bit for the title of this piece: "Con Can Cook."</div>
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Many cooks become foodies because their mother or grandma tutor them in food prep. The family takes out bragging rights on the stories about culinary successes and failures and they become legendary. Food and the rituals around it are central to family lore.</div>
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My own mother hated to cook. She was creative and conscientious about getting good meals on the table but she loathed the process. When I was 10 years old Mom broke her leg and convalesced from the couch for six full months in our living room, which overlooked the kitchen in our basement apartment.</div>
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Mom was able to tutor me in the art and science of meal making from her new perch. As her fracture mended, she talked me through the process of meal making, which I lapped up eagerly in that miniature kitchen. My first foray into culinary territory was a menu featuring fried pork chops with cream gravy; canned green beans and "from scratch" biscuits. I vividly recall chopping iceberg lettuce for our salad and Mom taught me how to make a mayo/vinegar dressing to drizzle over my masterpiece.<br />
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Even though I knew precious little about food and what to DO with it, those 6 months of planning, shopping, chopping, stirring and serving during "Cooking Class With Mom" were unspeakably valuable to me. <i>*I strongly suspect it was meaningful for my mother, as well.</i><br />
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For a high school graduation gift my parents arranged for me to have a series of Culinary Arts lessons from a retired Home Economics teacher who lived nearby.<br />
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<b>SIDEBAR: </b>For Millenials and those who were offered no such class, "Home Ec" covered clothing construction, food preparation, child care and floral arranging as well as etiquette and table setting. <b>END SIDEBAR.</b><br />
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As newlyweds, our kitchen consisted of a 3 burner apartment sized gas range, a base cabinet with a lone drawer and a set of china and cookware from my Hope Chest. The cooking utensils were hand-me-downs from relatives which I still have and use! <br />
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The meals I fixed in those days were pretty much what you'll find in the Better Homes and Gardens or Betty Crocker cookbooks. Many of our recipes in that time frame came from the Martha Gooch and Kitchen Klatter radio shows.<br />
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<b>SIDEBAR: </b> Yes, we had radios all those years ago and homemaker programming was a staple of the mid morning lineup! <b>END SIDEBAR.</b></div>
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As our youngsters arrived one by one I had more cooking to do. I was not a fabulous cook but at least I never cooked eggs in dish washing detergent like Dorothy Dixon did! Her family of 9 were not fed this disaster but the event prompted the family to buy breakfast cereal by the case so she never had to cook again! *<i>True Story!</i><br />
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When our family was invited to a Saladmaster Cookware dinner I sat up and took note of all that shiny kitchenware being demonstrated! It was in the 1970s that I became a demonstrator for the company and found myself preparing meat loaf, chicken, vegetables and dessert for a dozen people or so two or three times a week! <br />
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I took my young daughters with me so they could help with clean up. They took turns demonstrating kitchen cutlery. Adorable little girls who are gregarious and verbal can really sell knives!<br />
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Everything in my experience has informed me about food--growing it; preparing and serving it; and using it as medicine. By the time The Normanator and I moved to our retirement home the price of food was rising at an alarming rate.<br />
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I was making lunch one day, thinking about how much a gallon of milk set us back. I recall sticking my head into the fridge as I gathered what I needed to make us our midday meal...I distinctly remember saying aloud, "<b>How on EARTH will FAMILIES ever manage</b>?"<br />
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The answer to that question raised another. <b> "<u><i>What might I do to help them</i></u>?"</b><br /><br />
The solution, as I saw it, was to put up a blog dedicated to users of Public Assistance. Holders of EBT cards for WIC, SNAP, or people who depend on Food Pantry food or Food Commodities could learn about low cost, densely nutritious meals. If they had not learned to cook, for whatever reason, we could help with that.<br />
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I was warned it would not work. I was reminded that "poor people don't have internet access" and there was a long list of reasons why it would never happen. I made a lot of phone calls, chatted with a number of experts, and finally played deaf. I launched the blog <a href="http://foodstampscookingclub.com/blog" target="_blank">Food Stamps Cooking Club</a> and invited visitors to the website to "join." When they do join they are sent a series of cooking tips. There is nothing to buy so it really does offer assistance with no strings attached.<br />
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NEVER did I envision how my little corner of the internet would impact so many in need. I have heard from Members who have used the information to help homeless people to cook in California! Members have sent us recipes, stories, tips--I could not have foreseen that I would forge tender bonds with other bloggers or that we would host a French Chef in the Clubhouse! There are videos on YouTube, I've participated in Cooking Classes at the <a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">Action Center</a> and all this makes Mother Connie feel all warm and gooey inside. <br />
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Knowing that Con can cook really made me happy last week. The Normanator got in on the fun, too...we roasted lots of chicken thighs, de-boned the meat and prepared noodles to pair with the meat to feed a crowd. This food was prepared for our little town's traditional Lenten Luncheon series. We did our work to honor the memory of one of our recently departed church members, Delilah Laue, who always gave of herself and did everything she could to prepare food for this yearly event.<br />
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Cooking is a joy for me in so many ways. This very morning I saw one of our Club Members at the convenience store ....We hugged hello and she regaled me with her latest cooking success: homemade noodles! Her husband raved about how good they were and how they were just like the noodles his mom always made! She recalled the cold winter night she had come to the Clubhouse and helped to make a dinner so she could learn how to make gravy and plan for good nutrition on a tight budget.<br />
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So I don't know where Yan is these days but I am in hog heaven! YES. <b> Con CAN cook!</b> <br />
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<b><a href="http://foodstampscookingclub.com/blog" target="_blank">Connie Baum</a></b><br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-42872497801546741692015-10-23T13:01:00.000-05:002015-10-23T16:26:11.151-05:00In the Food Stamps Cooking Clubhouse!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>No. The Clubhouse is NOT in Utah and NO, I am NOT in prison!</b></div>
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The Clubhouse was buzzing with activity this week! It was a party atmosphere, really, and it filled my bucket as nothing else could. Nikki is raising 3 charming children, a garden, several businesses; in a very real sense she is setting the world on fire! She is concerned about the environment, how food is sourced - and the ethical standards of that process. She is interested in everything on the planet, the planet itself and she is extremely well read. She is far better informed than most people. Besides that, she's cuter than cute.</div>
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<b>SIDEBAR: </b>Nikki has <b>4 </b>youngsters if you count Danny, her husband, who is a professor at Peru State College. <i>JUST KIDDING!</i> <b> END SIDEBAR.</b></div>
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Nikki collected Mother Connie's favorite spaghetti sauce recipe:</div>
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I got a jump start on our meal by sauteing the 'trinity'-onions, carrots, celery:</div>
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When Nikki arrived, she brought eggplant, potatoes, more carrots, and tomatoes. We added this and that until we had a full soup pot of goodness. Among the items added were quinoa, vegetable broth, tomato paste, a touch of sugar to brighten the tomatoes, and a whole clove of garlic, peeled. </div>
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Nikki also brought a home made loaf of sourdough bread -*YUM YUM YUMMY - and a shaker of kale flakes she had made with her dehydrator. We had fresh basil available for topping the soup at serving time. We were on nutrition/flavor HIGH ALERT!</div>
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Another family was invited to share the food and the fun. Their 10 year old, Ava, brought soda bread that she had made ALL BY HERSELF! That was snarfed up before the camera could capture it. IT WAS SO DELISH.</div>
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<b>Jack, Eli, Ava and Lucy had the whole kitchen for their giggling pleasure!</b></div>
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While the soup simmered and we tore the greens for the salad (which we forgot to photograph! ARGH) we chatted about how we could use cabbage in various ways and how forgiving it is. Mother Connie showed Nikki how to use celery to make broth and how to wrap celery in a kitchen towel and foil to keep it fresh longer.</div>
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The salad was a duke's mix of bitter greens like spinach, chard and kale with sweet, tender butter lettuce, cranberries, slivered almonds, and chopped broccoli. A variety of dressings were available; the meal was presented buffet style.</div>
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We hated to have to eat dessert. <i><u>*That is a blatant lie. </u></i> There were TWO kinds of brownies. We could not decide between them so we had a piece of each flavor. </div>
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The tabletop conversation was scintillating! We discussed every topic known to mankind, including food and cookery! The children enjoyed their play and I was sorry to see the evening come to a close. It was important to get the children into bed in a timely fashion; the next day was a school/work day. Y A W N...</div>
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It is so wonderful to know and love people who seem to be on the same page. It is inspirational to hang out with well educated, well intended, well spoken folks who express themselves eloquently about topics we all care about. And it's way fun to share a meal with people we admire.</div>
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It is great fun to cook in the Clubhouse and it is such a treat to share all that fun!</div>
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Thank you, Nikki and Danny, Annie, Lucy, and Jack! And thank you, Wendi and Dustin, Ava and Eli. DO HURRY BACK! You make our hearts sing. And dance!</div>
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<b><a href="http://foodstampscookingclub.com/blbo" target="_blank">Connie Baum</a></b></div>
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<i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 12.6px;">The FTC wants you to know there might be links on this page. Should they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly. If you are reading this outside of the USA, you may be leaving cookies behind. </i><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small; line-height: 12.6px;">If you are reading this outside of the USA, you may be leaving cookies behind.</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-72159525125310099262015-08-19T10:47:00.000-05:002015-09-02T22:59:40.864-05:00Johnson County Women of Distinction<div align="center">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Wendi Buggi * Velda Koehler * Sally Hutt</b></td></tr>
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Building on our success from 2014 we gathered to plan for Year Two. We shuttled all over Johnson County, Nebraska to distribute Nomination Forms to people in every town...we got a bit of coverage from the <a href="http://tecumsehchieftain.com/" target="_blank">Tecumseh Chieftain</a> as well as the <a href="http://beatricedailysun.com/" target="_blank">Beatrice Daily Sun!</a> Of course we posted updates on <a href="http://facebook.com/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> too!<br />
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Because our <a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">SENCA</a> office location was so small for what we hoped would be a growing crowd, we opted to rent the historic Community Building on the village square. Not having air conditioning had us hoping for cool weather. At least there were fans to keep the air moving and the amplification system was in place.<br />
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We chose the theme: "Johnson County Women are the Keys to the Past, Present and Future" and the decorated tables carried that out with canning jars filled with red and blue marbles (SENCA's signature colors) holding tiny keys hanging from branches. The table cloths were red or blue and scattered across all of them were keys, watches, clocks--every type of timepiece.<br />
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As the guests arrived they signed our guest book and a young volunteer escorted them to their seats. They were further welcomed by platters of bars and cookies as well as pitchers of icy water on each table.<br />
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The radio format was followed again but this time it was broadcast from 'The Poverty Network, 57 on the FM radio dial'...57 came from the Johnson County license plate. We featured commercials again, this time with a little girl, Ava Buggi, helped by her mommy, who carried the SENCA banner as well as posters with ads for volunteers. They acted out each commercial for Cooking Classes, Meals on Wheels and other SENCA programs. The audience seemed to enjoy seeing Ava and taking in her personality, especially when she interrupted me and whispered in my ear that it was time for the Outreach Worker, Terri Brethouwer, to take her place at the podium.<br />
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Those who sit on the Advisory Board were introduced: Rev Jason Wolter, Rev Eric Biehl, Ann Curry, Judy Coe, Kevin VanLanningham, Cortney Brown and yours truly. *The board members wore blue stoles; the 2014 winners were given red stoles to wear. We also were thrilled to welcome the Executive Director for <a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">SENCA</a>, Vicky McNealy and her sidekick, Pam Armknecht, who oversees the Community Outreach Workers.<br />
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Our brilliant and sparkly Keynote Speaker was <a href="http://mirroredwindows.com/" target="_blank">Anita Lewandowski Brown</a>, former Executive Director of the Grand Island YWCA . Anita was accompanied by her husband, <a href="http://mirroredwindows.com/" target="_blank">Ralph P. Brown.</a> Anita spoke about her experience with the Grand Island event and she sprinkled stories throughout her talk. She brought a visual that was displayed below the stage reading, "<b>Be</b><i>lieve</i><b> The</b><i>re</i><b><i> </i></b><i>Is</i> <b>Good </b><i>In</i> <i><b>the World</b></i>" [sic: Be The Good In the World.] Ralph drew from his Mohawk Indian upbringing by drumming and singing the Honor Song for Women. <u>It was a very moving moment in the event.</u><br />
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We had another speaker who was a 2014 Candidate in Grand Island: Debra Rakosky gave a lovely talk, sharing what it had meant to her to be a part of the annual Grand Island event. Debra was nominated for Woman of Courage and was given a glass starfish to remember the occasion and her nomination.<br />
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Gifts for our speakers and a special helper were original art pieces created on canvasses by Rev Eric Biehl.<br />
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Again there were three categories and the nominations came from every town and village in Johnson County! Each candidate was introduced, as was the woman or women who made the nomination. A tidbit about each one was shared so people who may not know these women would understand who they are and why they were nominated.<br />
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Each candidate's entry was judged by people from out of Johnson County so the judging would be fair and unbiased. Some of the nominations from 2014 were brought forth by the board once again because of their merit.<br />
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The winners of each category, pictured above, are as follows:<br />
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Woman of Courage - Sally Hutt</div>
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Young Woman of Achievement - Wendi Buggi</div>
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Johnson County Woman of Distinction - Velda Koehler</div>
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Following our program, the attendees were invited to mingle and meet n greet the winners and their families. Dustin Buggi favored us with background music.</div>
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SO MANY PEOPLE helped to make this event successful. If we mention them all it will fill up the Ethernet! Here are a <i>few</i> who made it all happen: Jody Schultz, Dustin, Wendi and Ava Buggi, Joy Robison, Lois McClintock, Norman Baum. <a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">SENCA</a> salutes each of you.</div>
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Next up: The Johnson County Fair Parade! Our Woman from two years have been invited to ride on an entry with signs and banners touting the women and their sponsoring agency, <a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">SENCA</a>. </div>
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HI! HO! COME TO THE FAIR! **<i>Let's hope those pictures will be good enough to share here!</i><br />
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We are up to our elbows in plans for 2016! Look for more categories, more entertainment more entries, more honoring our peers and way more fun! After all, Johnson County Women are the Keys to the Past, Present and Future! <br />
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<b>Connie Baum</b><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>The FTC wants you to know there might be links on this page. Should they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly. If you are reading this outside of the USA, you may be leaving cookies behind. </i><i>If you are reading this outside of the USA, you may be leaving cookies behind.</i></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-16353711219455817482015-08-15T13:11:00.000-05:002015-08-31T19:55:51.887-05:00Women of Distinction: The Maiden Event of 2014<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFqvvTxXfHvihkI_WKx4nXpUwVPYpZIugpxOpEh9slMmMBTZSOl3DD5Hf2ZE7fxVQOShl_GqtBMBoFBuq_m854jmOjQxTcBxC68zrmpBDQbL7X1bTurhhnM63kZmnkH0yHIGostAYB1WI/s1600/photo+%25283%2529+%2528800x598%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFqvvTxXfHvihkI_WKx4nXpUwVPYpZIugpxOpEh9slMmMBTZSOl3DD5Hf2ZE7fxVQOShl_GqtBMBoFBuq_m854jmOjQxTcBxC68zrmpBDQbL7X1bTurhhnM63kZmnkH0yHIGostAYB1WI/s320/photo+%25283%2529+%2528800x598%2529.jpg" width="248" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Devon Roesner, Dr. Joan Christen, Kesha Beethe</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_2050794466"></span><span id="goog_2050794467"></span>Early in 2014 I received a notice that women in Grand Island, Nebraska were being honored at at event hosted by their local YWCA. I knew I wanted to nominate someone so I made a nomination and in return I got a letter inviting me to join my candidate for the grand dinner event.<br />
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We both attended; she brought her mother in law, too. It was quite the gala occasion where women of every age had been nominated by their peers, their families, their friends. There were gifts for each nominee and awards for the winners of each category: Woman of Courage, Young Woman of Achievement and Woman of Distinction. The photos of the Women of Distinction line the walls of the YWCA's building.<br />
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As I saw how each candidate's heart was touched I thought, "We need to do this in Johnson County Nebraska!"<br />
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It is my good fortune to sit on the Johnson County Advisory Board for <a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank">SENCA</a>-- South East Community Action in Tecumseh. I met with Terri Brethouwer, our outreach worker, and her immediate response was to look at the calender for 2014. She noted that Friendship Day falls on the first Sunday of August. She looked up from the calendar and said, "Let's do it!"<br />
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So we DID. We had no clue what we would do or how to get it done so we begged the YWCA director, <a href="http://mirroredwindows.com/" target="_blank">Anita Lewandowski Brown</a> for information. She was gracious enough to send us all their forms and a page full of ideas they had tried successfully.<br />
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Some 60 curious people crammed into the<a href="http://senca.org/" target="_blank"> SENCA</a> building for our maiden event on Friendship Day, August 1, 2014. We had a handful of candidates, their nominators, some family members, We even had Vicky McNealy, Executive Director of SENCA from the home office at Humboldt, Ne. She was accompanied by Pam Armknecht, who is the Community Services Director.<br />
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Teen aged girls dressed in their prom gowns served bars and fruit that had been prepared by the woman who prepares the Senior meals at the Center, Loretta Pope. Jacob Schultz favored us with some musical solos.<br />
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A radio show format was adopted. 'The Poverty Network' carried the show on their waves; the call letters were SENCA , 1700 on the radio dial. 'Commercials' were sprinkled throughout to educate people about SENCA and all the programs they offer. The guests heard, "SENCA is helping people, changing lives" until they remembered and believed it!<br />
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It was determined that SENCA people were ineligible for awards but we bent that rule when we heard about a way we could make a special award for one of our Board members. Ann Curry's family had a tragedy and from that sadness came a wonderful foundation that helps with children who have been traumatized by accidents or illness. Because of the Aiden's Animals foundation we gave Ann a stuffed elephant and the mother of the child they lost from an accident talked about the foundation and the work they do.<br />
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Every candidate got a miniature, hand carved onyx elephant. We will never forget the event! <i>The candidates will always remember, too!</i> <br />
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2014's Johnson County winners were Devon Roesner, Woman of Courage; Kesha Beethe, Young Woman of Achievement and Dr. Joan Christen was Woman of Distinction. Each woman received an award with their name and the date engraved on it.<br />
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We had so much fun that we determined we would build on that success. We'll tell you all about what transpired in 2015 in the very next post!<br />
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<b>Connie Baum</b><br />
<i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The FTC wants you to know there might be links on this page. Should they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly. If you are reading this outside of the USA, you may be leaving cookies behind.</span></i><b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-62390644676843324112015-06-26T21:31:00.000-05:002015-06-26T21:31:51.764-05:00The Sequel. And Braggin' Rights<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>This was The Normanator's first "outing" following his 3 way heart bypass procedure!</b></div>
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The man you see here, flanked by a couple of trained and highly skilled professionals holds a Bachelor of Science degree in Agriculture from the University of Nebraska. He has taught school; he managed farms and worked as a surveyor. He did appraisal work, he served admirably in the United States Army. He painted houses to keep body and soul together and raised three of the finest young men you'll ever meet.</div>
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Together, he and I built something of an "empire" when we represented a company who dealt in health products. We always declared we really got an education while we worked with them. We learned a great many things about water, air, food, sleep and people! We even learned about our selves!</div>
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I mention all this because The Normanator's excursion through the <a href="http://neheart.com/" target="_blank">Nebraska Heart Institute</a> was a real top notch education and it came even though we did not expect to learn SO MUCH in such a short time.</div>
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There is always much to be learned, no doubt. But I was in for a real awakening when I was "just an innocent bystander" to the proceedings.</div>
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The very first thing I learned was that an epidural would not only be appropriate for laboring mommies; it would be a wonderful adjunct to The Normanator's recovery. It kept him as comfortable as possible in order for him to cough, following the surgical procedure! That's an important component to recovery. No one wants to suffer with pneumonia while recuperating; it's critical to cough!</div>
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I was busily tending to Norm's needs-reaching tissues, cleaning his glasses and just acting the role of the wife when the Registered Nurse and Pod Leader, <a href="http://neheart.com/" target="_blank">Nicolette</a>, sashayed into the room with her usual cheerful demeanor. She made some small talk and then turned to me: "I'm sending you to Cardiac Camp!" she announced with authority.</div>
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Hm...the little girl in me immediately (and incorrectly) presumed I was being disciplined. But I dutiful appeared for Cardiac Camp at the appointed time and place, pen in hand for taking notes.<br />
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Besides yours truly, there was a motley assortment of patients in varying stages of recovery lining the room's perimeter. Family members of folks who were having surgery at that time sat in on the Camp and there was one woman who had heart surgery long ago but was there on that occasion to help a relative. <br />
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Registered Nurse and Pod Leader, <a href="http://neheart.com/" target="_blank">Kevin Mendenhall</a>, was the instructor that day. He introduced himself, gave us the long list of his impressive credentials and put us all at ease with his sense of humor and easy manner. He gave us the lowdown about what to expect from the patient and from ourselves through the process of hospitalization and recovery.</div>
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We were given a binder, a cook book and sheets of information about diet, exercise, symptoms -- where to call and when to call---it was all very reassuring and there would be no reason to feel abandoned after we got home and all those professionals were not at the end of a call button. I was grateful to be a part of this and it was good to share what I had assimilated with The Normanator.<br />
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One at a time, a legion of Respiratory Therapists appeared every 4 hours during every 24, day and night to administer breathing treatments. They were all educators of the first order, sharing tidbits of what worked well with using the nebulizer for medicines to keep the lungs open. They talked about why they became the professionals they were. They shared stories about their families which helped us to really understand lung function and treating the body well to encourage squeezing quality right out of the air we breathe! They encouraged both of us. They even gave Norm a PICKLE:</div>
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This is an adorable gadget. When he blows into it, the silly thing vibrates and makes a fluttering sound, much like a child talking to a running room fan! Those vibrations match the vibrational rate of his lungs and help to loosen mucus. This is very helpful!<br />
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The team assured us that Cardiac Rehab was in the works and it would begin in 6 weeks post surgery. They got that a little wrong...he was two weeks ahead of schedule when he reported to the local hospital's Cardiac Rehab specialist, Dee Othmer, RN. She is like one of our family already! <br />
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So know you have the overview of how the whole process took place. We have taken out braggin' rights on the entire <a href="http://neheart.com/" target="_blank">Nebraska Heart Institute</a> and all the professionals there. They deserve no less.<br />
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<b>Connie Baum</b></div>
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PS/<i>When I tell you that EVERYONE was helpful I want to share this example: Hospital rooms are notoriously chilly by nature. One chilly morning a gentle man came to mop the floor. He started on the wall farthest from the door and cleaned his way to the opening to the room. When he finished, he leaned on the handle of the mop and asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?" I teasingly suggested he could warm the room. He smiled, nodded and disappeared. Seconds later he returned, carrying a warmed blanket for me!</i> *I ask you,<b> "Is it any wonder we have claimed braggin' rights?"</b></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-728529334063814312015-06-25T14:30:00.000-05:002015-06-25T14:30:25.332-05:00The Normanator is Mending<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;">This man just had open heart surgery to repair 3 blocked arteries...he is one champion guy I love!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A funny thing happened...we were 150 miles away from home and The Normanator was helping someone load a mattress. It did not fit, no matter how loudly the men groaned or how hard they pushed. It was a chilly, dampish night and we were tired. He returned from this project into the house and sank down on the sofa. He looked like what my grandmother would call "peaked". His face looked gray and drawn. We chalked it up to his crummy lung function and trundled off to bed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The next day, at home, The Normanator answered the phone. I heard him laughingly tell the caller that there must be some mistake. He was 150 miles away...suddenly it dawned on us that the <a href="http://bostonscientific.com/" target="_blank">Boston Scientific</a> monitor that sits by his side of the bed had alerted the <a href="http://neheart.com/" target="_blank">Nebraska Heart Hospital</a> that his heart experienced an "episode" and this was real. Thank goodness for monitors that track their owners like cell phones and GPS units!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">A stress test was scheduled. Of course The Normanator was fearful that he'd be required to peddle a bike or trek on a treadmill. While we fretted, the Cardio dude arrived. No, he probably would not do well in a traditional stress test; he likely would not need a chemical test, either.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Nothing would DO but a heart catheterization. So one was scheduled and all the while Norm kept INSISTING "I am fine. I feel fine, really I do." </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">When they returned Norm to his room after the procedure we were told that there were blockages. Lots of them in 3 arteries, and maybe they should check the carotid arteries in his neck, which they promptly did. The Doppler indicated blockages there, as well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Well. So that's what we were looking at. Maybe his lungs were not his only enemy. We were given an appointment to return and speak with the surgeon. As we left I wondered to myself, " Three blockages? And we are leaving here to fend for ourselves? OMY.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"> What blew us both away was how young the cardio people are. The first one looked to be about 12 and the surgeon looked as if he may actually have reached his teen years. Although they look like youngsters, these specialists have the skills, wisdom, education and demeanor of very old souls indeed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">We met with the surgeon who gently explained that The Normanator's lungs were fragile and compromised. This was not news; he has been working with a pulmonary specialist for some time. The surgeon went on to explain that the lungs should resemble Nerf balls--they should be soft and spongy. Norm's lungs? They are like bubble wrap.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">He went on to explain that whenever people visit a barber shop they expect to get their hair cut. We had the right to expect that The Normanator could face surgery and he was very sorry to say that it was just not going to happen. I was as sorry for the surgeon as I was for Norm over this decision. It left us wondering what could be next...stroke? heart attack? Neither was palatable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">After a few days we were summoned back to the <a href="http://neheart.com/" target="_blank">Heart Institute</a> to discuss our options. It seemed to me, as the observer and not the patient, that these young men were positively giddy with delight to see Norm and discuss what they had in mind for him. They had taken the case to their "Cath Board" and had come up with a 'plan of attack' to get him feeling as well as he could as quickly as he could! They explained that they had a solid strategy so he could get those arteries repaired and go on to live a life that had quality!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">It was May 14, 2015 when the surgical team took care of all The Normanator's heart issues. The anesthesiologist came to explain they would place an epidural in his upper back; he had IV tubes, a port for medicines to enter, telemetry, and a bank of monitors. This whole collection of stuff and people accompanied him to the surgical suite after his son and I, along with our minister, bid him goodbye.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">The surgeon had told me this procedure would be fairly long and I should expect him to have a tracheotomy; he may be on a ventilator and on and on. I steeled myself, determined to deal with whatever came our way. Norm and I are a team and we have vowed many times we should 'go with the flow'. This was no different.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Several hours later The Normanator returned to his hospital room, which was now his Recovery Room. I was shuttled away to a waiting room, allowed only brief visits. He looked peaceful to me. The pain medicine was doing its job and the epidural made it possible for him to cough, preventing pneumonia. His heart pillow, which served as a sort of cast for his broken sternum, was well used.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Another blog post will be required to regale you with all our fabulous learning experiences. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Today's calendar reads June 25, 2015. Cardiac Rehab is now a three-times-a-week appointment. From the wife's perspective, he is stronger and not as tired as before the surgery. If you ask HIM, he may give you different information. He is driving again and has even gone to his beloved 40 acre tract of land. As he left to go there he told me, "I'm going out to cut a thistle."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Yes, Norm. ONE thistle. Uh huh. <b> </b></span><br />
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<u><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Oh, how I love this man.</b></span></i></u><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-25547713136052377682015-03-23T09:13:00.001-05:002015-03-23T09:13:49.646-05:00Husbands Underfoot?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNq972NrMKfvcYaFVTHc3FTh8tEjATzFC5TaCN4mGdD_rASsvqDc90TO269XJeqzCz73CbHKdVTndVylAFokxM205p0wvRq5pnxGdyfeuMXNtOSMkFk8inb4h5KHVQXi8DMeRD2G2_blQ/s1600/2015-01-29+1st+Phone+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNq972NrMKfvcYaFVTHc3FTh8tEjATzFC5TaCN4mGdD_rASsvqDc90TO269XJeqzCz73CbHKdVTndVylAFokxM205p0wvRq5pnxGdyfeuMXNtOSMkFk8inb4h5KHVQXi8DMeRD2G2_blQ/s1600/2015-01-29+1st+Phone+001.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
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<b>Does the Normanator appear to you to be underfoot?</b></div>
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<b>*<i>I should think NOT!</i></b></div>
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<b> </b>When Del left a lifetime of work on a line in a manufacturing plant, Carol was livid. "What," she railed, "Am I supposed to DO with him NOW?"<b> </b>I laughed and made the effort to cheer her up. I offered her another cup of coffee.</div>
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Her coffee got cold as she went on, whinging and whining about how Del was going to "ruin my life" and how "I'll never have another moment's peace."</div>
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Soon the "happy" couple were leaving one household for another. They could spend Del's newly minted retirement in an expansive brick home on a corner lot where Del could groom the sprawling lawn. Carol had her doubts...</div>
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She phoned one day to report that Del was driving her crazy. "He is unpacking all the moving boxes and has rearranged the living room!" she complained. I reminded her that lots of people HIRE folks to do that for them and maybe she could look at being grateful. She didn't hear me; she had begun to cry. She wailed into the phone: "The worst of this house is that it is a ONE BUTT kitchen! How will we manage when he takes over the kitchen and all the cooking?" While she blew her nose I timidly suggested that she could go into the living room and enjoy the new layout.</div>
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What followed next made me wish I hadn't answered the phone that morning. "You don't understand, Connie!" she hollered. "Just wait til you and Norm retire. You'll see..." Fortunately, her door bell rang and that conversation ended.</div>
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Carol was still fussing and fuming about how Del was underfoot when we moved 150 miles from them. Her emails were filled with complaints about how he cooked this and he washed that and the yard was too big and the kitchen was too small.</div>
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<i><b>What ever happened to living happily ever after? </b></i> </div>
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I've heard other women complain that their household routine was upset when the man of the house retired, too. I never did understand that because when my dad retired my mom and dad hung out together and they had time to play cards, grocery shop, go fishing on a whim, or just pack a picnic and go for a drive to enjoy one another's company. They even got bicycles and peddled all over their little home town. It seemed to me they were sharing their lives and enjoying one another immensely. </div>
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<i>Well, that is-they enjoyed one another until The Big Blow Up when Mom moved out. But that had nothing to do, so I was told, with Dad's retirement.</i></div>
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<i> </i>I've heard tales of husbands who took to drinking too much because they did not have to answer to an employer any more. Wives have confessed to me that they felt they no longer had privacy because the newly retired husband grabbed the mail. Stories of husbands 'hiding' in the garage so as not to have to help with household chores or listen to long phone calls have circulated. All these had the recurring theme of husbands being underfoot.</div>
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<i> </i>What a strange concept this is to me. The Normanator and I thoroughly enjoy hanging out in our retirement. We have spent our time feeling grateful for having good health and the opportunity to design relaxed but interesting days together. We both like to read so we spend quiet time in that pursuit. We are die hard Nebraska Cornhusker sports fans so we noisily watch our favorite teams with snack foods for meals! I cook; he dries the dishes. We joke. We tease. We entertain. We join our peers at table when the Breakfast Bunch meets on Tuesday mornings. We deliver Meals on Wheels and attend church regularly. We drink pots and pots of coffee. He bakes. I clean. When he goes to the "40" to work on wood I take care of the house and laundry. We don't think our kitchen is too small! We are full of life and the joy of living it. We are eternally grateful that we have this life.</div>
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Husbands underfoot? Not in <u><i><b>this</b></i></u> house. Not ever.</div>
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<a href="http://www.savingdinner.com/" target="_blank"><b>Connie Baum</b></a></div>
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<em>The FTC wants you to know there might be links on this page. Should
they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly
compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs
online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly.</em></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-81450978109680799962015-02-25T05:34:00.001-06:002015-02-25T20:52:48.296-06:00A British Invasion<div style="text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsN6vGDjatDmTBO5AQjNjDf4jP_I3AxUV91QACfeYUGpJUuGqpV1J8g1y8X8uEDpPR5CRuQVSUQxGVcPRMkHwU78EZb4T0kTkRa1_e3U1GI5aytzKMdXyolrfJB6rl_xNhO-xtKjDD7gM/s1600/Oct+Kay+2014+002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsN6vGDjatDmTBO5AQjNjDf4jP_I3AxUV91QACfeYUGpJUuGqpV1J8g1y8X8uEDpPR5CRuQVSUQxGVcPRMkHwU78EZb4T0kTkRa1_e3U1GI5aytzKMdXyolrfJB6rl_xNhO-xtKjDD7gM/s1600/Oct+Kay+2014+002.JPG" height="240" width="320" />W</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b> Ava, age 8, made special signs to welcome our friend, Kay, from the UK. The Normanator got into the act, as well! The signs read "You bet your BUM we're happy to see you"...Yes, Ma'am!" and "Welcome Home, Kay!"</b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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We are "making nice" for our English friend to arrive on this side of the pond! She'll stay in our guest room for about three weeks!<br />
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We never <u><i>meant</i></u> to strike up a friendship with someone so far away...</div>
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We crawled out of bed at 1:30 AM to deliver the 150 papers on our route. We had finished our route by 6 AM, thankfully, and could slip between the warm covers to catch a nap before beginning Act II of a chilly March day.</div>
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I had just settled in when the phone rang. I raced to answer it and what I heard from the other end of the line was loud wailing in a strong British accent:<i><b> "I CAHN'T GET MAH-RRIED!</b></i><i><b><i><b> "I CAHN'T GET MAH-RRIED!</b></i> </b></i>" </div>
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The awareness of what was happening washed over me. Anita, a good friend of ours, was visiting at the prison and met a charming, gregarious young woman from England. They exchanged stories and contact information. Anita suggested that I "friend" Kay on Facebook, which I did. I suggested that the 3 of us should have coffee when she came stateside and gave her our phone number. I did not know the details when all that wailing and crying came over the phone about why her wedding to Gary Frazier could not happen but I knew we HAD to help somehow.</div>
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On that fateful spring day this British traveler had landed at the airport in Lincoln, Nebraska. The cab ride some 40+ miles to Beatrice, Nebraska, where arrangements had been made for her motel, had tapped out her resources! Because of the cost of the cab fare from Lincoln to Beatrice, she had no money, no way to pay for her stay and she was 35 miles away from the man she was to marry at the Tecumseh State Correctional Facility. She was desperate and terribly afraid. </div>
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I said to her, "Kay, don't worry about a thing. Norm and I will be there in half an hour!"</div>
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We pulled on clothes as quickly as we could. We had to hurry because we had to make the 35 mile trip, collect our damsel in distress and return home in time to drive the neighbor girls to school!</div>
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When we pulled into the motel we could see Kay in the doorway. She was so cute in her pink suit. She looked almost as if she were pouting. I opened the front door and invited her to put her luggage into the trunk of our car. She looked at us as if she may cry and said, "NO ONE in England would DO this." She probably worried that she had been connected to a couple who specialized in serial murders. She may have thought we offered to help her so we could rob her or some other heinous thing. In any case, she was at our mercy and fastened her seat belt for what she must surely have been concerned could be a roller coaster ride!</div>
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She chattered in her delightful English accent all the way to Tecumseh. Norm could not understand one word but I listen faster than Norm and I was getting the gist of the story. We told her that the marriage between Kay Pilkington and Gary Frazier WOULD take place, because we would do whatever it took to get her to the "church" (aka prison) on time!</div>
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We showed her to our guest room, fixed her some breakfast and brewed fresh coffee. Coffee for Kay is like oxygen to the rest of us. She refers to coffee as "a brew" and we have learned to lay in a good supply of coffee and cream for her visits!</div>
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Kay personified a beautiful bride. She was positively fetching in the lovely simple dress she chose. </div>
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On March 17, 2012 Kay Pilkington and Gary Frazier were pronounced man and wife by a clergy arranged .We were not allowed to attend these nuptials because we do not have visiting privileges for Gary and we are not on his telephone list.</div>
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As I recall, she stayed for a week. We made sure Mrs. Frazier had meals and transportation and anything else she may have needed. She did come to the conclusion that we intended her no harm and in fact we might even be considered to be decent human beings!</div>
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That same fall, Kay returned, knowing that she could stay with us again sans the added expense of lodging. She knew she could enjoy all the comforts of our home and that I'd prepare a hot water bottle for her ailing back. She could depend on having nutritious food served on her visiting schedule. We had introduced her to those who sit in our circle and this darling new friend was embraced by everyone wherever she went in our little town.<br />
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You are no doubt keenly aware that globe trotting is not a low cost endeavor. In order to finance Kay's travels she sold their love story to some English papers, who paid a handsome sum for the details of their romance and marriage. Not only that, she managed to win a small lottery! Kay gave up smoking, sacrificed her automobile and cuts back on every thing possible in order to save for travel to the States!<br />
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To ease her travels somewhat she has left some of her "bits" in the guest closet. There is a shelf in the bathroom and she has "commandeered" a drawer or two in a dresser. We refer to our guest room now as "Kay's room" and she is convinced that anyone else who sleeps there in her absence should pay HER a stipend! Over the years we have had a great many laughs, some mighty good food and we have made some delightful memories with our dear friend...she really feels like family to us. <br />
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There is an ample supply of coffee and cream on hand; Kay's room has fresh linen as well as clean windows and curtains...and we have made plans for activities we hope will please her no end.<br />
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<b>We are ready for a British Invasion!</b><br />
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<b>Connie Baum</b></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-26776524811363629392015-02-04T11:19:00.000-06:002015-02-04T11:19:06.121-06:00 <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LZVOZdGrk88HycJtBIiinAg3aWej-RUoyOkF0JMibTBcitQgsRxNc4qpb1G9o23hWoSCWa_xCedNz2BDRgjVF9fHC-PNHzVaCYN8IaiQX2ZSzF_z-YJmDq2vdGXNiakYnizuG7UCcvA/s1600/JUDY+BOOKLOVER.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5LZVOZdGrk88HycJtBIiinAg3aWej-RUoyOkF0JMibTBcitQgsRxNc4qpb1G9o23hWoSCWa_xCedNz2BDRgjVF9fHC-PNHzVaCYN8IaiQX2ZSzF_z-YJmDq2vdGXNiakYnizuG7UCcvA/s1600/JUDY+BOOKLOVER.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>This a file photo of our Book Lovers Club</b></td></tr>
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Normally, since today is the first Wednesday of the month, our Book Lovers would gather round our dining room table and nibble on popcorn and Lois' home made cookies. Not today. Today we have giant flakes of snow filling the sky and piling themselves on our deck railing like elongated slices of angel food cake! We are hunkered down, no doubt finding time to keep our noses in our books!<br />
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The cast of characters in our Club has changed, as our precious, aging members are moving on to the next world. This is sad for us but we understand that death is part of life. It's not the part we like but we must accept it and cling to the delightful, happy and wonderful memories we have made.<br />
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In the above photo, the lady in front, wearing polka dots and a sweet smile has left us. She was ill for only a short while when she was taken from us. What we will always remember about Marge is her famous popcorn, her unbelievably beautiful handwriting and her original poems. Marge taught me how to knit and she was a dear neighbor. She was 94 when she died. We all miss Marge more than we can express.<br />
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The woman in brown slacks and jacket on the left of the picture is Gena. Bless her heart, she has endured any number of health issues and seemed to be at death's door but with her daughter's faithful care and Gena's own will, she has weathered a good many storms in recent times. It was my good fortune to encounter her as we delivered Meals on Wheels to a friend of hers. I was so pleased to see her doing so well and looking so fine! Gena loves to read the works of Christian authors. She is also passionate about tending to her flowers!<br />
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Gena is standing beside a lady in red. This our local librarian, Susie Kerner. Susie was a special guest on the day this photo was snapped. Since then Susie and I have become members of a Writers Group. She has a wonderful sense of humor, loves books as much as our members do and she is a wonderful contribution to our little town! We always enjoy Susie's book reviews in our local paper. She tells us that Tecumseh library patrons prefer mysteries and fiction. Recently she shared a true story about the Holocaust.<br />
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Beside Susie, wearing a striped blouse, is Bert. She left us too quickly after learning she had a serious health issue. Bert doctored for this but during her treatment she took a bad tumble and in the blink of an eye she was taken from us. We miss Bert hosting our meetings, showing us her art work and knitting projects. I never pass Bert's former home but what I miss seeing her in the yard or walking to the grocery store, even at the tender age of 90. Little Bert was generous, caring and read voraciously. She leaned toward fiction and biographies.<br />
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Judy, dressed in blue, and Lois, wearing glasses, are on the back row. Lois is a member of the original group who chartered the Book Lovers Club. She taught school before her retirement, lives on a farm and makes a fine President. The teacher in her is apparent as she prepares for each meeting by sharing jokes, puzzles an bits of trivia with us. Lois enjoys reading on a variety of topics; most recently she reads the newspaper aloud to her husband, who is plagued with eye ailments. She manages to find a lot of how-to and home care volumes. We can always count on Lois to bring home made cookies to every meeting!<br />
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Judy lives in the country and serves us as Treasurer. She wears many hats: Advisory Board member for South East Nebraska Community Action (SENCA), officer for the VFW Auxiliary and President of the SE Nebraska Tourism group. She is a community minded woman who appreciates books and takes a special interest in Native American culture and history. It was Judy who invited me to join the Club, for which I am eternally grateful. Judy has a special interest in WWII as well as Barney Oldfield's career.<br />
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That woman with her hair piled up on top of her head is yours truly. My reading choices are mostly biographies, and non-fiction. I own way too many books and I want more! *my bad...<br />
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We have other members who are not pictured. Little Elna is a faithful member; I cannot recall why she is not present for this photo. She loves to read titles by Christian authors, historical books with a sprinkling of fiction. LaRue is another original member of the Book Lovers Club; she lives in an assisted living facility. The last time I saw LaRue she was impeccably groomed, stylishly dressed and cheery as ever. LaRue is a tiny mite; she is no bigger than a minute! She says she enjoys receiving the minutes of our meetings in the mail.<br />
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Our newest member has not attended many meetings because we meet while she is in class at Peru State College! She devours fiction and loves to read as much as any of the Book Lovers. She is studying English and will graduate in August as a non traditional student. She reports she is reading some heavy duty English literature!<br />
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You can tell we are a motley crew. But we are bound by our interest in books, our devotion to one another and the fun we have at our meetings. Not only are we Book Lovers; we are people lovers, as well.<br />
<br />
Some clubs have one book that all their members read and then have a discussion at their meetings. Our members read whatever strikes their fancy and report on their impression of their choice. The rest of the meeting is taken up with a bit of business, snacks and coffee, and local news! There are hugs all around when it's time to go home.<br />
<br />
When I think about the Members and those members who have made their transition, I am filled with gratitude that I was allowed to sit in this circle.<br />
<br />
<b>Connie Baum</b><br />
<em>The FTC wants you to know there might be links on this page. Should
they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly
compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs
online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly.</em><br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-2953720896945324002014-11-17T06:33:00.000-06:002014-11-17T06:35:24.150-06:00<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UvHhpGC4Klkssqhc06317XvlXVTY04Ws6mhqX9h5uEzyiXJ5QQLp6_TxKpNYrkbgakWv1i7n0GfTQb3BBsBBu6Tyr9UidRahymt-K6M_2ZRgG0S6WzG08ZwjgH6mJJgosMmgjPgtc-o/s1600/MotherConnie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UvHhpGC4Klkssqhc06317XvlXVTY04Ws6mhqX9h5uEzyiXJ5QQLp6_TxKpNYrkbgakWv1i7n0GfTQb3BBsBBu6Tyr9UidRahymt-K6M_2ZRgG0S6WzG08ZwjgH6mJJgosMmgjPgtc-o/s1600/MotherConnie.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Our Family’s Comfort
Food</b></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It is
very seldom that the subject of the old fashioned foods I ate as a
little girl is broached. For</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
this
reason, I have chosen to remember on paper the delicious memories I
have of my dear mother’s
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
own
version of vegetable soup!</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When
I was growing up in Omaha milk arrived at our doorstep in bottles
with a top that held the
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
cream.
There was a paper tab at the top; when that was removed the cream was
poured into a glass
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
cream
pitcher and used with coffee. When Mom left the cream at the top and
shook the bottle, I knew</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
that
something wonderful was going to happen in our tiny kitchen!</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I was
a finicky eater. Many of the foods that appeared on our table were
not to my liking but after I
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
suggested
we send it to the ‘starving children in China’ I was well advised
just to eat the food without</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
opining.
I needed no encouragement for my mom’s soups!</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
In my
mind’s eye, there is Mom, wearing a butcher’s apron. That
flowered model covered the bodice
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
of her
house dress as well as the skirt and there was a perfect bow at her
back. She would stand at the</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
kitchen
table with her paring knife, peeling and chopping the vegetables that
would go into her soup
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
pot:
Carrots, onions, potatoes. She washed them with great love. She
carefully cut them with love -</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
and her
trusty paring knife.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When
I grew up and recreated this family fave I wondered why she had no
chef’s knife and</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
why she
took so long in making this simple, satisfying meal. I now know that
it was A/because she</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
loved
my dad and me and B/<i>she adored that soup, too!</i></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She
boiled a pot of salted water as she prepared the veg. She often
hummed or sang as she worked.</div>
<div align="CENTER" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
brightly colored carrots went into the salty water first. It was fun
to see the steam rising and
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
hear
the hiss as cold met hot. Next came the chunks of potatoes and the
bits of onion. The aroma</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
of that
little Omaha kitchen felt much like a hug as they simmered on the
stove. When my great
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
grandma’s
meat fork went into tender carrot pieces, the vegetables were deemed
to be done. That’s
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
when
Mom would drain the liquid into the sink, creating another cloud of
steam! It was magical for<br />
<br />
the three
year old who was no doubt underfoot! The pot went back to the Roper
gas range. Mom
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
added
that creamy milk the Robert’s Dairy man had left on our front
porch. She used enough to cover
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
the
cooked goods PLUS enough to cook the macaroni that came next. I
remember watching her put
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
spoonfuls
of corn starch into a bowl I wish still had. It was a white bowl
with thin red stripes and a
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
red
band a.round the top sporting white polka dots.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When
the milk was hot enough and the macaroni was soft enough, Mom stirred
the corn starch into
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
that
soup kettle to thicken the soup JUST SO! My mouth would water with
anticipation! Then came</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
the
seasoning: salt was sprinkled into the pot from the small measuring
spoon that rested in the ‘salt
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
dish’.
Pepper was shaken from the square green shaker that matched my
grandma’s set, displayed on
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
the
stove.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It
was a treat for me to help set the table. The soup bowls we used
were from the “good” set. These
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
were
flat soup plates and we used them because the soup was easier to eat
that way. Mom always<br />
<br />
liked to have
a dinner plate underneath in case of spills. In those days, crackers
came in square sheets<br />
<br />
of four
perforated individual crackers. Oyster crackers were a rare treat.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The
spoons we used for this meal were the same spoons I now wear as
jewelry! My #1 daughter took
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Mom’s flatware to a silversmith and they’ve been fashioned into bracelets,
necklaces and rings for<br />
<br />
every one of
Mom’s great granddaughters.
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
When
Mom was no longer able to live alone she came to join our household.
I was grateful to have</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
her
with us. One day when I came home from work to have lunch, Mom
surprised me with a bowl</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
of her
“famous” Our Favorite Vegetable Soup.<br />
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>It
was the last time she ever cooked for me. </b>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<a href="http://www.mirroredwindows.com/" target="_blank"><b>~Connie Baum</b></a><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><b> </b><em>The FTC wants you to know there might be links on this page. Should
they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly
compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs
online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly.</em></span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-27294756682113403522014-10-18T14:45:00.000-05:002014-10-18T14:45:34.471-05:00Mother Nature is Changing Her Wardrobe<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.stockfreeimages.com/1644/medium/free_16443397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://images.stockfreeimages.com/1644/medium/free_16443397.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Mother Nature is changing her wardrobe...</b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Today the sky in Southeastern Nebraska is a deep azure blue. From the new windows in our home we cannot see one single cloud. Sunshine is spilled everywhere and its radiant brilliance is cheerful. The air is sweet and fresh and crisp. The squirrels are busy, busy, busy. Furthermore, the leaves are falling to the ground as if to mimic rain or snow!<br />
<br />
There will be a Cornhusker football game for us to cheer later today. We'll make popcorn and holler at our TV set as the Huskers make every effort to beat Northwestern.<br />
<br />
We toured some of the nearby countryside last evening as we went to dinner at a cute little eatery called Smartville Station. It's located a few corn and soybean fields away from our home. As we made our way we marveled at the reds of a grove of maple trees. We thoroughly enjoyed viewing the varied shades of green leaves, blending in with the vibrant yellows and golds across the hilly fields. We pointed out the trees which are now naked, or nearly so. There were gigantic clouds of dust where the farmers were combining beans. Those farmers are doing all in their power to beat Old Man Winter and get the beans and corn out of the field and into their bins!<br />
<br />
In a very short time the yellow, green, gold and red hues will fade to brown as Jack Frost does his annual thing. For the time being there are chrysanthemums dotting landscapes around front porches visually reminding us that Autumn is in full swing. Before long snow will cover the plants and harvested fields. The very thought of snow makes us shiver!<br />
<br />
Summer was not unkind to us in 2014 but the heat caused us to wither under its spell. We always vow never to complain about the coming cold when we are sweltering under the hot Nebraska sun...We welcome the fall months and the cooler temperatures when September rolls around. <br />
<br />
We have relatives who have chosen to live in climates where Autumn is only a page on a calendar. They do not have the variety of changing seasons as we do here. That's good for palm trees, I suppose. I prefer the anticipation of changing seasons and Mother Nature's ever evolving wardrobe.<br />
<br />
After we have endured Winter's brutally cold winds and all the snow shoveling that goes along with it we turn to welcome Spring, watching eagerly for green stuff popping up! Spring offers us hope. Spring is my favorite season until Autumn arrives. Autumn reigns supreme as my favorite every October. <br />
<br />
Winter's arrival finds us dreaming of cozy fireplace fires and big mugs of hot chocolate. There are snow men to build and snow fights to entertain us! We plan for "blizzard projects" like scrap booking or 1000 piece puzzles. We make plans to have card parties and soup suppers. We think about adding heavy new sweaters to our closets and we bundle up for ice skating events. We even carve out more time to curl up with a good read during those snowy months.<br />
<br />
Nebraska life is always good. October brings its special gifts to us and brings into sharp focus the beauty of the countryside and all the treats that are part of that package! Not everyone gets to choose where they live. I am so grateful I live in Southeastern Nebraska!<br />
<br />
<b>Yes. Life is good and <u><i>I do love my life!</i></u></b><br />
<br />
<a href="http://foodstampscookingclub.com/blog" target="_blank">~Connie Baum</a><br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-63410375488351067622014-10-11T08:46:00.001-05:002014-10-11T08:46:10.265-05:00Back In the Day...<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span id="goog_1556490428"></span><span id="goog_1556490429"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.stockfreeimages.com/Happy-young-couple-thumb15886235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.stockfreeimages.com/Happy-young-couple-thumb15886235.jpg" height="400" width="255" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Ya. I used a freebie because no other image was available</b>.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> <i><b>It's a wonderful opportunity to use your imagination! grin</b></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<br />
She grew up so poor that she and her little
sister were thrilled to play with dolls made of clothespins. She had a
melodious singing voice and loved to sing but her mother forbid her the
honor of participating in school sponsored competitions, most likely
because of her own lack of confidence. Her father burned her back by
stubbing out his smoke; she carried that scar from age 5 to her death.
Her parents were divorced, much to Harriet's relief, and all that her
life had held formed her into the remarkable woman she was.<br />
</div>
He
was so poor growing up that he was determined to rise above that
poverty by getting a good education. His father drank too much; his
mother's health was poor and when his dad got hurt and could not work
the family just fell apart. By then Herman was in Advertising School.
He kept his family at arm's length but always spoke lovingly of each one
of them. He always felt he could be a better family man than any of
his relatives. It turned out he was correct!<br />
<br />
Harriet and
Herman met in high school. He was smitten with her classic beauty and
gracious ways. She was taken with his crooked smile and sparkling
personality. They dated-which in those days, meant taking walks around
their home town; sharing picnics featuring bread and butter sandwiches;
window shopping and going to free band concerts. They enjoyed dancing on
the front porch to music playing on the radio.<br />
<br />
Since
Herman was older than Harriet they did not share classes but whenever
they passed in the halls they would exchange looks. He would wink and
flash that crooked grin of his. She would stroke her hair with one
graceful hand and put her head down just a touch. They never wanted to
make a scene, after all!<br />
<br />
As soon as Herman graduated high
school he went to work for the WPA, building roads. She finished high
school, with honors, and continued living with her mother and sisters.
She turned home care into an art form; her mother appreciated the
household help. In the evenings the couple would sit on the porch
swing, watching the traffic. On pay days they would walk a block away
to share a float at Kate's Root Beer stand. They talked endlessly about
their wedding and marriage.<br />
<br />
<div>
The autumn ceremony took
place in the parsonage of the Methodist church. Neither Harriet nor
Herman had any church affiliation; this parsonage was within walking
distance of Harriet's family's home. The pastor's wife was a witness,
as was the man who came to mow the church yard. They felt giddy as the
pastor signed their marriage certificate. The bride wore a borrowed
brown dress; the groom wore the suit someone loaned him. Herman was
proud to pin a gardenia on his bride's dress...sporting his trademark
crooked smile!</div>
<div>
With not much money and very little in
the way of furnishings the newlyweds moved into a teeny, tiny house near
both sets of parents. They lived a simple life with few belongings to
weigh them down. That was a good thing, for Herman landed a job with a
grocery chain and was transferred (as in 'promoted') all over Nebraska
and Kansas. She took exceptional care of their living quarters while he
labored 7 days a week. For fun, they read magazines that others
donated to them after they'd finished them.. They played Honeymoon
Bridge or Gin Rummy most evenings, too. Harriet was generally the
victor. <i>Did Herman LET her win?</i><br />
</div>
<div>
Because they
did not own a car, they walked everywhere they went. When they were not
walking, they danced. They helped their parents in myriad ways as the
older generation aged and became frail. After half a dozen years of
wedded bliss and many promotions for Herman, the couple finally became
parents!<br />
</div>
I'm <u><i><b>so glad</b></i></u> they did. This loving and devoted pair were my own mother and father.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://foodstampscookingclub.com/blog" target="_blank"><b>Connie Baum </b></a><br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-75412555107904208122014-10-09T15:32:00.001-05:002014-10-09T15:33:04.657-05:00The Top Ten<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkErVGLUqbt8BLEbmUJg_zAj4Pf7731YJk1NlWj-9K4KrhoJwEi0rK16OjwKY323pvP3tRstE2I49BjD67qcKyQAnwQqBd-TccjefeOCdb5txCx0-jqvr17kl28iugTI7OIKowz_DPBkg/s1600/Top+Ten+List+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkErVGLUqbt8BLEbmUJg_zAj4Pf7731YJk1NlWj-9K4KrhoJwEi0rK16OjwKY323pvP3tRstE2I49BjD67qcKyQAnwQqBd-TccjefeOCdb5txCx0-jqvr17kl28iugTI7OIKowz_DPBkg/s1600/Top+Ten+List+001.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David Letterman does not have the corner on Top Ten Lists!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>The Top Ten</b></div>
<div align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Long before David
Letterman made ten things popular on his late night comedy show I
developed a Top Ten List of my own. Does this put me ahead of my
time?<i> I fancy it may..</i>.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
No one on my Top Ten list
ever goes away. It’s gotten crowded up there.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The list began with my
mother. She was always #1 on that list, no matter who was named.
After she passed away someone asked me if she’d be off the list.
NO WAY.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The people on this list
are folks I admire. They are the people I’d most like to emulate
when and if I ever grow up. They are good people with good hearts,
good intentions, good ideas. They are the people who get things done
no matter what. They have integrity, fortitude and goodness knows
they have a fabulous sense of humor.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<u> Here you will find
names, along with a few of their attributes and accomplishments, on
my Top Ten: </u>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Harriet Pieper. </b> She
was smart, beautiful and strong willed. She turned cartwheels in
the yard with me when I was a little girl; she sewed my clothes with
skill and love and she was a business woman with acumen. Her sense
of humor and passion for people was unparalleled.
</div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="0"><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Herman Pieper.</b> He
was a people person all the way. His experience in business school
set him up to be a great salesman, super grocer and Mayor of a small
town. He served on the school board. He had an amazing sense of
humor, was smarter than any other 10 people combined and always
always always did the right things for the right reasons.
</div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="0"><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Bonita London.</b> This
gracious woman was my English teacher in high school. She got me
interested in public speaking. She was bright, well educated, a
fabulous mother of 2 and it devastates me to think that she
succumbed to Alzheimer’s Disease.</div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="0"><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Oleta Hansen.</b> This
patient soul ministered to me when my life was bleak. She taught me
more about massage therapy than I ever learned from books. She
personified compassion, generosity and love.</div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="0"><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Hannah Kroger.</b> This
tiny, feisty German lady wrote and self published a book about
massage therapy and self care. She went to great lengths to teach
people how to be well and how to help others. Her legacy of
understanding the human body and spirit sits on my bookshelf. I
refer to it often.</div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="0"><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Mildred Konsella.</b>
With a reputation that stretched far and wide, this crotchety
curmudgeon worked long hours to heal people’s ailments. It seemed
to me that she acted cranky in order to cover up her real feelings
of sadness and concern for others’ troubles. She was a true
healer.</div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="0"><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Angela Sidlo. </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">My
firstborn is one of the most beautiful, talented, creative humans
I’ve ever known. She can do anything well, dreams big, and makes
life happen her way. She has always been wise beyond her years and
she amazes me with her abilities every day! I am honored that</span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">she
chose me for her mother.</span></div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="0"><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Amy Daugherty </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">This
#2 daughter is someone who follows her heart and her dreams, too.
She is determined, persistent, lovely and smart. Her sense of
humor, sense of style, and passion for her work is wonderful. I am
grateful to be Amy’s mother.</span></div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="0"><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Michael Birdsong.</b><span style="font-weight: normal;">
This guy is the only Danish Cheyenne Indian I have ever known. I
admire him for his zest for life, his persistence thru adversity and
his love of others. He is compassionate beyond my understanding; he
is a ‘connector’ of people and he is not judgmental! I am so
thrilled that he and I found one another and I was allowed to adopt
him.</span></div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="0"><div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Norman Baum. </b><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Normanator is very much like my father was. He has the same sort of
ideals, he treats people well and he can be The Boss, the Employee,
The Organizer, or the Sympathizer...whatever need arises, he can
fill that bill! His sense of humor is delightful and he never
ceases to amaze me with his knowledge.</span></div>
</ol>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;">So
this is my Top Ten and I wanna be just like all of these people if I
ever grow up, </span><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">except for
the curmudgeon part.</span></i><span style="font-weight: normal;"> Of
course there are many others on that list but for purposes of brevity
I have spared you a long, long list. </span></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span>
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b> <b><span style="font-weight: normal;">I
wonder if any of my Ten made a Top Ten list?</span></b></b></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b>Connie Baum</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-43867805610567184862014-10-05T18:50:00.000-05:002014-10-05T18:52:43.973-05:00One Man's Trash...<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEZjS4xDUHLgkqD2kx1p-XTH52Rks6YGgCsj7KXJ8q1RDSCLoOOY67g2uDEHJ4RqZYie7xPfkepCGFzVK7jwVdWX7Npxr6GyGuHr_HpQuxRToo6LNh9YLzcqZgMusmOz-DV3_hmh8YL78/s1600/The+prince+is+sleeping+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEZjS4xDUHLgkqD2kx1p-XTH52Rks6YGgCsj7KXJ8q1RDSCLoOOY67g2uDEHJ4RqZYie7xPfkepCGFzVK7jwVdWX7Npxr6GyGuHr_HpQuxRToo6LNh9YLzcqZgMusmOz-DV3_hmh8YL78/s1600/The+prince+is+sleeping+003.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>This old trunk was my "trash" and it found a new home, where it was considered a "treasure"</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The old yaw is this: <b>"One man's trash is another man's treasure.</b><br />
<br />
I believe that with all my heart and soul. We have had <u><i>stuff</i></u> in storage, <u><i>stuff </i></u>in the basement, <u><i>stuff</i></u> in the closets and it is long past time to be rid of it. People tell us, "Have a yard sale!" but that doesn't trip my trigger. I'd much prefer to give it here or there and have someone find what they consider to be a treasure!<br />
<br />
Case in point: The trunk in the above photo was given to me and I no longer have a good use for it. When I asked one of my shiniest friends if she would like to have it, I felt all warm and fuzzy that it had found a good home and would be well cared for AND USED.<br />
<br />
The past few days here have seen the Mother of all garage sales...The Trail of Treasures has featured sales from the corner of our state along Highway 136 clear to another small town many miles away. Our little South East Nebraska Community Action Center's Advisory Board played host to the many eager shoppers who came to Tecumseh, NE to see what treasures lay in wait for them. We had hot spiced cider, cookies and conversation as people signed in. <br />
<br />
There were folks from Wisconsin, Kansas, all over SE Nebraska and some from right here in town! It was fascinating to listen to their stories. Some shoppers had specific items in mind; others just enjoyed snooping through piles of furniture, household goods or tools to see what struck their fancy!<br />
<br />
One of the most memorable was a dear lady from Lincoln, NE. Her husband has a serious illness and she works in an office. Her passion is making quilts for doll beds. She wanted to find old doll beds but would be open to finding whatever she could use to make the little beds and she was eager to find fabric to use for the quilts. This precious soul took the time to show us the prize winning quilts that had won a wad of ca$h for her. Not only that, she had photos of many of her doll beds! <br />
<br />
The passion this lady has for her work/play just oozed out of every one of her pores. When she was asked about her quilts her face lit up as if she were facing a Nebraska sunrise! She wanted to share her passion and we all were eager to hear everything about it.<br />
<br />
There were a few people who came in, stuck their noses in the air and backed out. Those were the introverts who did not wish to bother with conversation <i><u>or</u></i> cider! We just told one another that those folks were NOT our circus and those were NOT our monkeys!<br />
<br />
I felt as if The Normanator and I were the real winners here. The good people from the Historical Society came to our home, carried stuff up and out that had taken up space in our basement. These were things we no longer loved or used or needed. We could help the Historical Society bring in a few coins for their project: a museum.<br />
<br />
Next October we will do this all again. The big difference? Kevin thinks we should serve hot cider and doughnuts! <b>Here's hoping we have even bigger crowds of shoppers and even more desirable </b><u><i><b>"stuff" </b> </i></u><b>!</b><br />
<br />
<b>Connie Baum</b><br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-9630934184740996182014-09-27T11:33:00.000-05:002014-09-27T11:33:50.459-05:00Traveling in the Fog<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESzhuc99sNaFoG5e0MgoDM1meFlmtp_RsrATm8AOLZQKB0-F3w3ZV40SF0W8zo1F-Du99inmKFqdp2NnHNHTUHQswL_tfk5qSueNIiKVaaw9lZCgwvxngGWQ04OGfSbuUWA5HmhL58uE/s1600/DSCN2399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESzhuc99sNaFoG5e0MgoDM1meFlmtp_RsrATm8AOLZQKB0-F3w3ZV40SF0W8zo1F-Du99inmKFqdp2NnHNHTUHQswL_tfk5qSueNIiKVaaw9lZCgwvxngGWQ04OGfSbuUWA5HmhL58uE/s1600/DSCN2399.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Mother Connie is very blessed to have special guys in her life. The fellow above is Michael Birdsong. Another, Andy Baum, is pictured below:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQ_3v3JGa9lcmoJ3QngT5Qe07s7R8-4jqV4q4ZTZSo7Fv3nBgW4dmwEXcVeRa9xT46j2Wn9-ZBg04dKqdPMH0zskfEXriMSrcpYmXyz5JE8qzgIAorpuiv1HvYJE2yKQ5lMTbJ6RhTzo/s1600/DSCN2398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtQ_3v3JGa9lcmoJ3QngT5Qe07s7R8-4jqV4q4ZTZSo7Fv3nBgW4dmwEXcVeRa9xT46j2Wn9-ZBg04dKqdPMH0zskfEXriMSrcpYmXyz5JE8qzgIAorpuiv1HvYJE2yKQ5lMTbJ6RhTzo/s1600/DSCN2398.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
These two dear characters live together in an Extended Family Home, where they are cared for with love and concern by a precious family who could easily be poster children for "How to Be the Ideal Family." Twice yearly we gather with their Teams of caretakers, Work Site leaders and each of their Service Coordinators to evaluate their activities, program progress, and quality of life. This past week their semi-annual planning meetings made for our travel destination.<br />
<br />
The trip began early in the morning. The sun was almost up as we began our trek; we could see that the fog hovered above the crops in ribbons of white froth. It put me in mind of wedding finery with a veil that trailed after the bride! The aroma of fall was in the air; the leaves were changing colors and we marveled at the progress of the corn and soybean crops. We sipped our coffee and chatted as we traveled, thoroughly enjoying one another's company. <br />
<br />
First up: Andy Baum's meeting. His new Service Coordinator had arrived before we did and we were pleased to meet her for the first time. It was clear from the outset that Joan already enjoyed having Andy on her case load.<br />
<br />
Much of his meeting consisted of the Caretakers sharing a very long list of Andy's activities. We all giggled as mention was made of his being photographed with the drummer from STYX; we were delighted to see that Andy sported new glasses, a new watch and guy jewelry around his neck and on the watchless wrist! *This is a very new wrinkle for Andy Baum!<br />
<br />
Andy kept close track of the time and when the hour was up, he announced that he was finished and he would ride the van to his house. This was vintage Andy. He likes his routine. <u><i> (Don't we ALL?) </i></u><br />
<br />
When it was time for Michael Birdsong's meeting he appeared wearing his new blue shirt, smiling widely and looking very stylish. Each of the boys has a personal shopper--another of the many perks of living with Al and Deb--and they have become more concerned with their appearance.<br />
<br />
There was a long list of Michael's activities, too. These guys do not have the same interests and their networks of people are varied. Their desires and dreams are regarded with serious consideration. It was fun to learn about the dancing partner, the birthday parties, the people whose lives were touched by this man. His biggest thrill was getting to deliver a drink sack to the recipient's door when Meals on Wheels was on the agenda. <br />
<br />
Michael Birdsong will celebrate another birthday next month. Since we won't get to see him on the actual date, we toted a few goodies for him. To honor his Cheyenne Indian heritage, we found some tipi and canoe kits; a headdress, and a paper file for some of the greeting cards he loves to send to his pals.<br />
<br />
<i>Every one of Michael's birthdays has been a miracle. </i>When he arrived in this world, they were sure he would not survive the first night. I have been told that his doctors met the evening he was born to ascertain how to proceed. The opening in his spine was carefully closed and they declared that if he lived to age 2, it would be another miracle. Before that second birthday he received a shunt to accommodate spinal fluid and they were absolutely convinced he would not see his 13th birthday. Well, Michael Birdsong had things to do and people to meet and he has reached the ripe old age of 48. <br />
<br />
Michael and I spar every year over his age. I INSIST he should be 18 because I am "33"...I always argue that it doesn't look good for a woman my age to have a son his age. But I do concede that he is adopted...It gives us a good laugh and reassures him that he has a family or two who really, really care about him.<br />
<br />
I find it interesting that this mother should be so invested in two guys when she was not in the delivery room with either of them. Ya. <b>That's how love works; <i><u>it just spills all over people.</u></i></b><br />
<br />
<b>Connie Baum</b><br />
<br />
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-89312813855740461252013-01-24T15:08:00.000-06:002013-05-28T17:14:11.982-05:00Tea Parties Because Mother Connie Sez<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiripaDUHF8AnWcMVPBSShXTU54oVpzBaR3YgZmmr73mF523vhrghzwixZykOJ28MS3PW3Lpu-ovusOblMbyKHRQ5hyphenhypheniL5J_5irTGZH045FSmnvDRJoeF7i3QeC4APpEY6f9fjL3dyD-KM/s1600/DSCN2387.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiripaDUHF8AnWcMVPBSShXTU54oVpzBaR3YgZmmr73mF523vhrghzwixZykOJ28MS3PW3Lpu-ovusOblMbyKHRQ5hyphenhypheniL5J_5irTGZH045FSmnvDRJoeF7i3QeC4APpEY6f9fjL3dyD-KM/s320/DSCN2387.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The little hand painted tea set shown here attended a great many tea parties...</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">When Moth<span style="font-size: large;">er Connie was a very tiny child tea parties were a staple. Mommy provided the perfect setting and tasty treats for two a<span style="font-size: large;">s we celebrated li<span style="font-size: large;">fe around the tea table.</span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">This tradition continued over <span style="font-size: large;">many </span>decades...While M<span style="font-size: large;">ommy made her home with The Normanator and me we had impromptu tea parties. Sometimes we'd in<span style="font-size: large;">vite ima<span style="font-size: large;">ginary guests; we had ladies from church<span style="font-size: large;">; we even had a Teddy Bear Extravaganza, where stuffed animals were "served" with us. W</span></span></span></span>he<span style="font-size: large;">n Mommy's age and health brought her to a nursing facility that only reinforced the tea part<span style="font-size: large;">ying.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Arrangements were made for use of the facility's for<span style="font-size: large;">mal dining room<span style="font-size: large;">. <span style="font-size: large;">Special guests were our #1 daughter and any guests Mommy cared to invite. The time that worked best for the visiting daughter w<span style="font-size: large;">as evening, so it was decided this tea party would be a "Come In Your Jammies" affair. Those nursing home folks are tu<span style="font-size: large;">cked in <span style="font-size: large;">around 7:3<span style="font-size: large;">0 in some places, after all!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">We arrived, picnic basket in tow: there was a thermos of hot tea, Mommy's own sugar bowl and creamer, her silver <span style="font-size: large;">utensils, and pieces of her good china. Also included<span style="font-size: large;"> were <span style="font-size: large;">napkins and tablecloth from her linen d<span style="font-size: large;">rawer. Of course, the centerpiece was her very own teapot. Mommy ooohed and aaahed as the treasures were lifted from the basket and arranged on the dining table. Her guest, also her roommate<span style="font-size: large;">,<span style="font-size: large;"> was wide eyed. She declared she had never seen such beautiful things.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">The memory of what we served escapes me after all these years<span style="font-size: large;">. I do remember the sense of wonder that filled<span style="font-size: large;"> that dining room with three generations <span style="font-size: large;">of<span style="font-size: large;"> ladies and the guest who <span style="font-size: large;">f<span style="font-size: large;">elt so honored that she could be a part of this event. Just thinking back, it makes me smile.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">We had our jammies on, as <span style="font-size: large;">mentioned <span style="font-size: large;">earlier. And our robes. <span style="font-size: large;">As the party was going on Mommy asked if I'd bring something from her room. I traipsed down the hall toward Mommy's room and heard someone call out, "Harriet? M<span style="font-size: large;">rs. Pieper? Do you want your pills now?" <i>Bec<span style="font-size: large;">ause of our matching nightwear a </span>nurse had mistaken me for my mother! </i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">You may have <span style="font-size: large;">heard <span style="font-size: large;">all of us laughing when I related this case of <span style="font-size: large;">false </span>identity to the party goers!</span></span></span><i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></i></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">This party went so swimmingly that we <span style="font-size: large;">re-booked</span> the room for a follow up affair. This time we'd have afternoon tea, replete with all the accoutrements of <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">the pajama tea party</span> but we'd <span style="font-size: large;">meet in the formal dining room</span> after<span style="font-size: large;"> everyone's nap time. AND WE WOULD WEAR HATS.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">This was the event that w<span style="font-size: large;">as attended by residents<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-size: large;">of</span> <span style="font-size: large;">the home and I i<span style="font-size: large;">nvited some of my peeps. We all <span style="font-size: large;">looked pretty snazzy in our hats, sipping tea from</span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span> th<span style="font-size: large;">ose 1<span style="font-size: large;">9</span>50s era china teacups. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">I asked Elsie if <span style="font-size: large;">she were enjoying herself. Elsie was the room mate who was so wide eyed at the first party. <span style="font-size: large;">Elsie <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">straightened</span> up</span> <span style="font-size: large;">o</span>n her dining room chair</span></span> and<span style="font-size: large;"> her wide brimmed hat shifted</span> as<span style="font-size: large;"> she spoke. "OH, YES. I've never been in a room this fancy before!"</span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">As we enjoyed our spread, w</span>e couldn't help noticing that <span style="font-size: large;">other residents and staff made a great many trips <span style="font-size: large;">by our dining room...they just "happened" to peek in as they passed. We also noticed they were grinning<span style="font-size: large;"> at what they saw.</span></span></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Do YOU have a tea party story to share? Mother Connie would love to hear about it...<span style="font-size: large;">that's what the comment box is all about!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">~<a href="http://livingonadime.com/" target="_blank"><b>Connie Baum</b> </a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<i><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> The FTC wants you to know there are links in this post. Should they be
clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly
compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs
online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly.</span></i><br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-41228331748889649702013-01-18T12:46:00.001-06:002013-01-18T12:46:42.179-06:00AH-hh...Foot Massage!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3X_dhjZ4IpV-AswFTAAxrWsQbHtyLRsDm3ITCWDBcTDcXxDqphRQJ_F8isGIdTpb98mWqsc9K-gOWJInH-6z4t8r3ZW52ioGOwV9aVvhMma53Gv-qGILjwh3QVElWy0KfMHfX3-4gpoY/s1600/FEETS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3X_dhjZ4IpV-AswFTAAxrWsQbHtyLRsDm3ITCWDBcTDcXxDqphRQJ_F8isGIdTpb98mWqsc9K-gOWJInH-6z4t8r3ZW52ioGOwV9aVvhMma53Gv-qGILjwh3QVElWy0KfMHfX3-4gpoY/s320/FEETS.jpg" width="214" /></a></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i><b>Oh, wouldn't this feel wonderful right now?</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">A</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span>foot reflexology session would feel heavenly today. Foot reflexology was the first thing I learned before <span style="font-size: large;">committing</span> to doing Massage Therapy back in the day. Now my #1 daughter is proficient and certified in the art of it <i>but she lives half a continent away...</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I<span style="font-size: large;"> have learned to use a bar of soap as I relax in a tub of hot water to work the same points and gain comfort from that. My<strike> shiny </strike>make that RADIANT--friend, Wendi, even gave me a lovely sugared oil to smear on my feet and that is divine but sometimes a person just needs someone else to pamper them and fuss over them.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">T<span style="font-size: large;">hat was one of the greatest sources of satisfaction when I spent my days in the massage room. To offer soothing comfort and pain relief for sore, <span style="font-size: large;">achy</span>, injured and aging bodies was immensely gratifying to me.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">N<span style="font-size: large;">ow that I have evolved into this stage of my life I look for other ways to get that sort of "high" from life. One of my pursuits is to enjoy Tuesday morning breakfasts where the Seniors gather each week. There is a good bit of camaraderie there</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>and some great friendships are blooming <span style="font-size: large;">around the breakfast table</span>. <span style="font-size: large;"> Not only that--the food is as good as the freely flowing coffee and the price is right: $1.25 for the meal and $.25 to tip the cook!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">O</span>ther <span style="font-size: large;">mood elevators for me include Book Lovers Club and the new book club at the Assisted Living Facility. Th<span style="font-size: large;">ose sweet ladies in both groups have taught me so many things about books, life, hobbies, friendships, and food that sometimes I must pinch myself to be sure it's not just a dream!</span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">B<span style="font-size: large;">loggers from al<span style="font-size: large;">l around the globe delight my heart<span style="font-size: large;">, too. I feel connected to <span style="font-size: large;">men and women who share my varied<span style="font-size: large;"> interests from nearly every state in the union and <span style="font-size: large;">in countries I have never visited! Facebook connects us, as it connects <span style="font-size: large;">me with friends and acquaintances <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">from locations <span style="font-size: large;">where I've lived</span> o<span style="font-size: large;">r other personal history<span style="font-size: large;">. When I see status updates from people I went to school with or family members<span style="font-size: large;"> who live afar, I feel the warmth of a connection, even if it is virtual!</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">T<span style="font-size: large;">oastmasters, International has a special place in my heart; <span style="font-size: large;">even though</span> <span style="font-size: large;">I am<span style="font-size: large;"> no longer attending meetings, I <span style="font-size: large;">continue to nurture</span> connections with those who are active and<span style="font-size: large;"> participating in club life somewhere.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">S<span style="font-size: large;">till, there is no good substitu<span style="font-size: large;">te for a good foot reflexology session! </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">D<span style="font-size: large;">o YOU <span style="font-size: large;">yearn for a foot<span style="font-size: large;"> or <span style="font-size: large;">body massage, too? If so, you know exactly what <span style="font-size: large;">this is all about! Here's hoping someone i<span style="font-size: large;">n your life is there to pamper YOU. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://livingonadime.com/" target="_blank"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">~Connie Baum </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></b></a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><em>The FTC wants you to know there are links in this post. Should they
be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly
compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs
online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly.</em></span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-75018720892076516372013-01-17T16:05:00.003-06:002013-01-17T16:24:15.698-06:00Mother Connie Sez, "Are You Being Served?"There is a Britcom by the name, "Are You Being Served?"--<u><i>this is not that.</i></u><br />
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Mother Connie has been AWOL for far too long. First it was this, then it was that, which kept her away. At times there was nothing to rant or rave about. Sometimes she was too busy or too far under par or-she hates to admit this-<i>SHE WAS LAZY.</i><br />
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She and The Normanator had a long, loud discussion about what would happen on Martin Luther King Day. Mother Connie INSISTED there would be no mail and no banking. The Normanator was adamant that life would go on as if it were any other Monday.<br />
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She won a cooky over that, just as soon as we saw the sign on the bank, announcing that they'd be CLOSED on Monday, January 21.<br />
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Now, what the bank employees do on their time off is none of my business. <b>But I need to consider what I'll be doing.</b> It is suggested by the Powers That Be (Who ARE those powers, anyway?) that people use that day for service to others.<br />
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Hm...there are so many ways to be of service it's dizzying:<br />
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Might I volunteer at the Action Center and help prepare food for the Seniors?<br />
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Should I go to the nursing home and help with recreation? **Nope. They are under quarantine because of illness there. <br />
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How about calling some of my elderly acquaintances and ask if they need help with their cleaning? <br />
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What if I offered to bring a meal to one of my older peeps OR invited them to eat with us? <br />
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Do they need help at school? <br />
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Does my shiny friend need help with her children? <br />
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Maybe one of my elderly pals needs help trimming their nails? .<br />
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Might the Librarian need help? ** Well, she might, but the Library will be closed that day; she'll probably be sleeping in and shopping!<br />
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<b>Here's the thing</b><i><b>: If you know of some way Mother Connie can be of service on Monday, January 21, 2013, just put a comment in the comment box and she will seriously consider your idea.</b></i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">By the way, what are YOUR plans for service on that day? <span style="font-size: small;">We'd love to hear your plans; just put the<span style="font-size: small;">m into the comment<span style="font-size: small;"> box. <u><b> THANK YOU.</b></u></span></span></span></span><br />
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<b><a href="http://www.livingonadime.com/" target="_blank">Connie Baum</a></b><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>The FTC wants you to know there are links in this post. Should they
be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly
compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs
online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly.</i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-27776165882093432232012-04-22T16:48:00.000-05:002012-04-22T16:48:10.798-05:00Stephanie's First Communion<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ts1.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=4961825927529840&id=b3d45d7f713dd4402854b07c36b10f80&url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.wearmeoutkids.com%2fimages%2fcommunion-dress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://ts1.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=4961825927529840&id=b3d45d7f713dd4402854b07c36b10f80&url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.wearmeoutkids.com%2fimages%2fcommunion-dress.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lovely as this dress is, it does not match the beauty of Stephanie's...</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The excitement was building. On SATURDAY this is how it went:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had been making every effort to catch up to the little neighbor
girls when their folks were home ALL WEEK...finally Norm saw they were all
home so I got dressed - I had already gone to BED! - and traipsed over with
Stephanie's little gift. She was on the sidewalk with her PINK roller
blades. She stumbled around getting up to the front door, where Latina Mama
Cruz met me/us...The family insisted I sit at once...Stephanie was so
engrossed in her roller blades that she did not appear to notice the pink
package I had for her. The WHOLE FAMILY gathered and I asked if it was
OK for her to have her gift now; I did not want to interrupt their dinner. Her
eyes just popped when I read for her the note on the Pocket Cross, the
candy, and the First Communion Greeting Card. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">Then Daddy told
Diana to invite us to THE DINNER tomorrow. I accepted, of
course. Then I asked if I could see the First Communion DRESS!
Oh MY, out they trotted--the "bridal" dress, the shoes-HIGH HEELS, NO LESS!-the earrings, the veil, and all the pretties for all the family. EVEN GOODIES for THE
BABY, WHO IS NOW WALKING, even though his first birthday is months away.<br /><br />Next thing I knew, Daddy disappeared
into the kitchen. I presumed he was cooking. No. He brought
out a GINORMOUS sack of organic chicken, skinned and
boned! He told me how to prepare it using
mustard. AND there was a package of sweet chicken sausage, also
organic! Now as if THAT were not enough, he INSISTED I take a
$20.00 bill for "all you have done for my children"...I just sat there and
wept.<br /><br />This dear, dear family is moving to another house and the girls
BEGGED us to take them to school from the new address. I told them that
if we did that, we would just bring all 3 kids to our house and they could
sleep in the extra bedroom. They just laughed. Especially when I
added that "then when your folks get home from work, we will kidnap
THEM,TOO!" </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Well, tomorrow should be interesting.
Authentic Mexican food, photo shoots, a can of beer and three generations of a
family who has invaded my heart! WOW. How could it get any better
than THIS?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">SUNDAY...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">We had been told there would be a phone call when the food was ready. They thought it would be 1 PM. Good, because that gave us time for a much needed nap prior to the festivities.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">At 2 PM the phone rang. There were fresh instructions about where to go for the party, which had been moved for reasons not mentioned. We grinned, grabbed the cameras and off we went. We were told to watch for the crowd on 3rd Street and to listen for the Mexican music. It would have been hard to miss.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">We were welcomed with hugs and kisses and seated at the dining table. A HUGE, overflowing plate of beef, beans, rice and salsa was presented to each of us, along with an adult beverage. Oh, but that food was delicious!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">There were two little girls with white dresses, high heeled shoes, and veils. They showed us the gift they had received at church that morning and told us about the cake and cookies at the reception. They were giddy with excitement. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">We made every effort to take proper photos but the camera was as cranky as a couple of the babies who needed naps. We deeply regret that those photos are NOT available. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">The next door neighbors of our host family also came to share a meal. These were Gringos so we could communicate but my Spanish is pathetic. I think there was communication but not in words...it was more like the language of love.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">We ate til we nearly burst and then made the rounds of the room with hugs. The Grandma, who is visiting from Chihuahua, Mexico, kissed both my cheeks and squeezed me til I squeaked. I think she is happy to know that her daughter and family have good friends. I squeezed her back because I love her so.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">As we walked to our car, someone called out to us. Mario was hurrying our way with a GINORMOUS platter of food for us to take home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">The love, the generosity, the fun we enjoy by living next door to this dear and precious family feels wonderful. I would wish this for anyone anywhere. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">Now we eagerly await the summer birthday parties for these three youngsters!</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://toothsoap.com/" target="_blank"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">Connie Baum</span></span></b></a></div>
<i>The FTC wants you to know there are links in this post. Should they
be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly
compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs
online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly</i><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-75410349397952084772012-04-07T14:49:00.001-05:002012-04-07T14:52:53.309-05:00We Hope This is NOT About Aging.<b> We hope this is not about aging...</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ts1.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=4515600292644216&id=8ee356ccb8ccfca6e17f57b82bbb7879&url=http%3a%2f%2fcdn.blogs.sheknows.com%2fgardening.sheknows.com%2f2011%2f01%2fDeer1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://ts1.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=4515600292644216&id=8ee356ccb8ccfca6e17f57b82bbb7879&url=http%3a%2f%2fcdn.blogs.sheknows.com%2fgardening.sheknows.com%2f2011%2f01%2fDeer1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b>Nebraska deer are exquisitely beautiful</b></i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<b>I was mostly asleep but I heard Norm HURRY down the hall. It was very quiet in the house. I stretched and yawned and talked myself into getting up so I could get myself ready for our friend's BIG DEAL Parole Hearing....</b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">I went down the hall and looked into the living room, hoping to see what Normie was doing. There he was, with his binoculars up to his eyes. He was SOOO excited! He said, "THERE IS A DEER IN THE NEIGHBOR'S YARD!"</span></b><b><br />
</b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>"Where? Lemme see, too"</b></span><br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0.17in;"><b><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">He pointed and like usual, searched for the right words to let me know where to look. He stuttered and stammered and could nott find the words he wanted to use. He handed me the glasses and I peered,not having a CLUE where to look. These people live half a block from us.</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><u>THEN I SAW IT.</u></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>We both realized that at the same moment this deer was not going to move and we laughed out loud and hard -- for about 10 minutes...<i><u>it is yard art! </u></i> We have lived here for 3+ years and deliver their newspaper every day. This thing in their back yard has never been seen by either of us</b></span>. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.17in;"> <b><span style="font-size: x-small;">W<i>e can only hope it's a new addition so we don't have to admit being OLD. And STUPID!</i></span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0.17in;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>We both are still grinning and giggling.</b></span></div><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://toothsoap.com/" target="_blank">Connie Baum</a></span></b><br />
<i>The FTC wants you to know there are links in this post. Should they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly.</i>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-71752430820213447632011-07-20T13:11:00.001-05:002011-07-20T13:14:24.669-05:00Broken Man<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ts4.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=970877376911&id=e0ccf9c005392d38ea0c9bf85f434006&url=http%3a%2f%2f02varvara.files.wordpress.com%2f2010%2f08%2f01-handcuffed-prisoners-e1282147785782.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ts4.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=970877376911&id=e0ccf9c005392d38ea0c9bf85f434006&url=http%3a%2f%2f02varvara.files.wordpress.com%2f2010%2f08%2f01-handcuffed-prisoners-e1282147785782.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><b>There was a Poetry Slam recently held in Southeast Nebraska. The second place winner presented the audience a poem that was very telling about his prison experience. Here is his winning entry:</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><b>Broken Man</b></span></span></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>Broken Man, Broken Man.</b><br />
<b>Look, everyone!</b><br />
<b>It is a broken man, </b><br />
<b>Existing in his broken world, surrounded by broken people.</b><br />
<b>As Broken Man attempts to rise above the broken system, he grasps for any nut or bolt a broken society will toss his way,</b><br />
<b>In hopes to repair his broken self.</b><br />
<b>Will Broken Man ever be whole again?</b><br />
<b>Or, is he doomed to be discarded by the broken system and labeled as useless, marred, rejected?</b><br />
<b>Has he not paid the debt of his actions that deemed him unfit for society in the first place?</b><br />
<b>Will that debt ever be paid?</b><br />
<b>Will the solitude and pain of isolation ever balance the scales to merit a clean slate?</b><br />
<b>Let us also not forget about the ones society has hired to calculate the size of the debt. </b><br />
<b>Will they ever be satisfied? </b><br />
<b>It seems they are never satisfied on the small everyday scale,</b><br />
<b>So how does Broken Man even THINK about satisfying them on the grand scale?</b><br />
<b>Are they also not broken?</b><br />
<b>Someone once shouted, “Have faith, Broken Man. Have faith!”</b><br />
<b>Faith! FAITH? </b><br />
<b>Have faith in WHAT? A broken system?</b><br />
<b>Or, are you referring to blind faith?</b><br />
<b>And what about blind justice and good old rationalization and justification?</b><br />
<b>It is all mental masturbation-</b><br />
<b>You end up screwing yourself!</b><br />
<b>I GOT IT!</b><br />
<b>What about faith in Broken Man? </b><br />
<b>How do you repair your broken self? </b><br />
<b>Forge your own nuts and bolts, piece yourself back together?</b><br />
<b>I can envision it all now…</b><br />
<b>Headlines! Headlines! Read all about it-</b><br />
<b>“Broken Man repairs himself. Vows to repair the broken system.”</b><br />
<b>Look out, broken world!</b><br />
<b>Look out, broken world!</b><br />
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<b>~Tom</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><i>Tom gives us much food for thought. We invite your comments. It would thrill Tom's heart to know others have read his poem and have opinions about it. Do remember you are welcome comment anonymously.</i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b> </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://toothsoap.com/clean-your-teeth.php?af=1313797"><b>Connie Baum</b></a></div><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>The FTC wants you to know there are links in this post. Should they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly</i></span><br />
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</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><b> </b></span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-74279759230533789522011-07-18T09:13:00.001-05:002011-07-18T09:21:28.151-05:00Restorative Justice Summarized<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=986547693073&id=26a06e82863ed2d41503e724516972fd&url=http%3a%2f%2faandreuccetti.altervista.org%2fblog%2fwp-content%2fuploads%2f2009%2f09%2fStreet_peoples_by_ytresu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=986547693073&id=26a06e82863ed2d41503e724516972fd&url=http%3a%2f%2faandreuccetti.altervista.org%2fblog%2fwp-content%2fuploads%2f2009%2f09%2fStreet_peoples_by_ytresu.jpg" /></a></div><b>The following post summarizes the Symposium featuring Restorative Justice, which was sponsored by the 7th Step Club at the Tecumseh State Correctional Institution. </b><br />
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The Tecumseh State Correctional Facility hosted a symposium which was attended by 20 guests from outside the walls. About twice that many inmates participated, as well. The event was hosted by the 7th Step Club, an on-campus organization whose mission it is to eradicate recidivism.<br />
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We were warmly welcomed, offered hospitality and treated to four speakers who addressed the issues surrounding Restorative Justice. These gentlemen were very well spoken and had completed the college level course in criminal justice taught by Professor Kelly Asmussen from Peru State College at Peru, Nebraska. The men who make up the 7th Step Club were so impressed with what they learned that they wanted to share their newly found knowledge.<br />
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We heard how the Native American community dealt with those whose behaviors was outside the acceptable norm. The Indians did not punish their people for being sick in their spirit any more than we would imprison someone who had an infection. They worked with the offender to heal the imbalance and create harmony in the tribe. Other speakers shared their personal stories of transformation and how the college class had positively impacted their lives.<br />
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Restorative Justice works in much the same way as the Native American model. The offender, the victim and the community work together in a spirit of truth and love and harmony to restore balance. The offender becomes accountable; the victim has his needs met because he feels heard and understood and the community supports both in order to reestablish and maintain order and balance. It becomes a win/win/win situation.<br />
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Following the inspirational addresses, the entire audience was divided into small discussion groups. There were three burning questions for each circle to address:</b><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b>1. Is there a problem?</b><br />
<b>2. What can restorative justice offer?</b><br />
<b>3. How can restorative justice be implemented?</b></div><b><br />
Our particular group was made up of people from every color and stripe, both men and women and was ably facilitated by one of the featured speakers. We examined and talked about the problems and their solutions; every member of our group was candid and forthcoming.<br />
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Recidivism is an indicator that problems exist; prison overcrowding is another. There is little or no opportunity for educational pursuits. Even though parole or release is predicated on mandatory programs, those very programs are closed or unavailable to those who would participate. <br />
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What is now in place in Nebraska is Retributive Justice. It is purely punitive. There is no arrangement for personal growth or transformation. There is no reward for enlightenment, education or transformation. Punitive action does not create balance or harmony; indeed, it often feeds violence, more offenses, poor morale among the prisoners as well as their keepers. Finally, it creates a climate conducive to recidivism. Simple punishment affects all the stakeholders: the offender, the victim and the community ADVERSELY.<br />
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Society prefers to place offenders of every type of crime into pigeon holes and turn a blind eye to those who are incarcerated. Perhaps this is because society knows no other remedy and John and Jane Q Public are fearful.<br />
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Our group was keenly aware that forging a career with a conviction in one’s past is nearly impossible. Overcrowded facilities further complicate this issue; so does society’s reticence to accept felons back into society after their sentences have been served. People who leave prison are often ill prepared to live outside prison walls because they lack basic skills for life on the streets and they do not know how to access resources.<br />
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All these factors contribute to the return of offenders to what is familiar: prison. </b><br />
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<b>Another consideration is the financial cost associated with incarcerating people. Most experts agree that room and board for prisons runs in the neighborhood of $30,000.00 and upward. That’s a pretty high rent neighborhood. Our group offered that some prisoners, with accountability and transition training, could be paroled or released in order to CONTRIBUTE to community coffers with their taxes, wages spent on goods and services; furthermore they could offer service to the community. <br />
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We posed this question: ‘Could we really eradicate recidivism?’ Furthermore, is it not possible, even advisable, to have offenders become accountable and transformed through Restorative Justice, become transformed and truly SUCCEED in life?<br />
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The good news is that Tecumseh State Correctional Facility will be offering this college credit course again, thanks to Professor Kelly Asmussen and his students. <br />
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Those of us from the streets who were fortunate to have attended that 7th Step Symposium featuring Restorative Justice will never be quite the same again. We had been enlightened and our hearts were touched and inspired. </b><br />
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<b>The many comments we have received regarding this subject have warmed our hearts and we invite you to give us your feedback. As always, you are free to remain anonymous. </b><br />
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<a href="http://toothsoap.com/clean-your-teeth.php?af=1313797">Connie Baum</a></b><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>The FTC wants you to know there are links in this post. Should they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly</i></span><b><br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-27900640857133972252011-06-28T14:26:00.000-05:002011-06-28T14:26:51.281-05:00Restorative Justice: Small Group Discussions Continue<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=989480421585&id=260fef0a4add800b0026042cb14ec8e6&url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.gfc.org%2fsmallgroups%2ffiles%2f2009%2f10%2fdm_smallgroup1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://ts2.mm.bing.net/images/thumbnail.aspx?q=989480421585&id=260fef0a4add800b0026042cb14ec8e6&url=http%3a%2f%2fwww.gfc.org%2fsmallgroups%2ffiles%2f2009%2f10%2fdm_smallgroup1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Our discussion group was not shy and did not lack for ideas!</b></td></tr>
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*</b><i>Third in a series about Restorative Justice</i><b><br />
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If you have been following this series of posts regarding Restorative Justice, you know that there was an event at the Tecumseh State Correctional Institution. Part of the program included small group discussions led by speakers featured as part of the afternoon’s presentation. There have been so many items on our small group’s list of problems that one post was insufficient. Hence, we continue today:<br />
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Our group was given three questions to ponder and discuss:</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>· Is there a problem?</b><br />
<b>· What could Restorative Justice offer?</b><br />
<b>· How could Restorative Justice be implemented?</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br />
We weren’t a shy bunch; there were lively, animated contributions from every participant and much agreement. You might recall that our discussion group was made up of offenders and people of every walk of life from the community at large.<br />
<i style="color: red;"><u><br />
What might Restorative Justice offer?</u></i><br />
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We concluded that Restorative Justice-bringing an offender, his victim, and the entire community together to have every need met, including discipline and education, as well as accountability-would most assuredly help to heal many wounded lives. No one believed this would be an easy task. Feelings run deep and healing the wounds caused by crime is not easily or swiftly resolved. Those who would implement this type of justice in lieu of Retributive Justice-which is what is now in place in Nebraska-would need to come together in a spirit of truth and love. Not everyone will be eager to do so. <br />
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Another feature of this concept will be a stronger sense of peace and unity throughout the community, including the prison population. Relieving the stress of guilt and shame will help those who are incarcerated concentrate on their own personal transformation with higher levels of empathy for their victims and the community at large. Victims who feel heard and respected will understand that their needs will be met, too, and that will be nourishing to them and their families. Everyone will have hope.<br />
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<u style="color: red;"><i>How, then, might Restorative Justice be implemented?</i></u><br />
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This type of justice is hard at work in some areas. It seems to be a well guarded secret, while media reports of crime continue to dominate headlines and newscasts. Media’s job, after all, is to sell their product so they sensationalize the bad things in society and overlook the good news.<br />
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Our group agreed that Restorative Justice needs to start behind the prison walls, with every offender owning up to his or her crime and taking responsibility for their own actions. From the inside out, there would ideally be programs in place to support what Restorative Justice calls for. Then, and only then, would the victim feel respected and heard. Following that, the community could then feel as if they could lend their support and help the process in any way possible.<br />
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<u style="color: red;"><i>What, if anything IS being done to implement Restorative Justice?</i></u><br />
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Former gang members who have drastically transformed their lives from criminal activity to contributing to society in meaningful and positive ways are already moving about in groups of students to steer young people away from gangs and get them into programs that are more appropriate. <br />
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People who are interested in getting Restorative Justice to replace the punitive methods employed by Retributive Justice are working diligently with Nebraska legislators, city councils, youth groups, support groups, churches and ministers and clubs within prison walls to educate people.<br />
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As a shining example of community support, Omaha has myriad clusters of community based activities, such as weekly meetings to inform one another about the activities and goals of helping support youth and their families throughout Omaha. There are a number of networks who help to reintegrate offenders back into the community by assisting with employment, budgeting, housing, and transportation so as to reduce recidivism. There are people helping other people on a one-to-one basis to aid felons in continuing transformation of their lives. There is a mountain of assistance available just for the asking in order to gain computer skills, to complete job applications, to find housing and become an integral, valuable, contributing member of the community. Help is also available for obtaining help providing food and clothing. <br />
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<i style="color: #38761d;">These kinds of things could happen in ANY community!</i> By coming together with open minds, open hearts and open arms, we can put Restorative Justice firmly in place. When that happens, we can be sure to minimize crime as well as recidivism. The quality of human life will be maximized to the fullest extent possible.<br />
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<u style="color: red;"><i>What’s it going to take, then?</i></u><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b>· Offender</b><br />
<b>· Victim</b><br />
<b>· Community</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Meet the needs of the above list of people in truth and love and you’ve got yourself a mighty fine situation. Continue in this line of thinking and behaving and the old retribution system will be outdated, outmoded, and out voted! It will slink away into the annals of history, unneeded.</b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><i>It rather smacks of peace on earth. Don't you think so, too?</i></span></span><b> <br />
<i style="color: #134f5c;"></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><i style="color: #134f5c;"></i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><i style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="background-color: #45818e;"></span></i><br />
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The next post will summarize this concept and the event that showcased it. We so appreciate your comments, questions, and yes, even your criticism. </b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>You are always welcome to comment anonymously.</i></span></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><br />
<a href="http://toothsoap.com/clean-your-teeth.php?af=1313797">Connie Baum</a></b></div><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><em>The FTC wants you to know there are links in this post. Should they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly</em></span><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><div id="refHTML"></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12945583343182756940noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6080348785474724815.post-33309609350605989902011-06-27T17:54:00.000-05:002011-06-27T17:54:49.301-05:00Restorative Justice: Small Group Discussions<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Would we need so many prisons if we implemented Restorative Justice?</b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b> </b></td></tr>
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<b> </b><i>*Second in a series of posts about Restorative Justice</i><b><br />
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Previously we have explained that Restorative Justice is accomplished by joining forces with an offender, a victim and the victim’s family, and the community. It has been demonstrated that by working together, much healing can take place. The offender will be accountable, the victim’s needs can be identified and met and the community can feel safe because balance will have been achieved.<br />
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When the 7th Step Club at Tecumseh State Correctional Facility hosted a symposium to elucidate the public, there were presentations given by inmates and following these eloquent presentations we were divided into small groups to discuss the matter in depth.<br />
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Each of the speakers was a Group Leader and took careful notes from the group’s input. We were asked to answer these three questions:<br />
</b><div style="text-align: center;"><b>1. Is there a problem?</b><br />
<b>2. What can Restorative Justice offer?</b><br />
<b>3. How can Restorative Justice be implemented?</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: red;"><u><i><b>Did our group identify any problems?</b></i></u></span></div><b><br />
Our group agreed that recidivism indicates there are problems. Prison overcrowding is an issue. Punitive action does not help people “get better”. Incarceration, by its nature, removes hope. Simple punishment-aka incarceration-affects all the stakeholders, which includes the offender, the victim and the community.<br />
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What is now in place in Nebraska is RETRIBUTIVE Justice, which, by definition is punitive and not disciplinary or instructional. This means there is little or no opportunity or encouragement for education, enlightenment or transformation. </b><br />
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Society prefers placing offenders of every crime into “boxes” and forgetting about them or their needs. This might be because society does not know any other remedy.<br />
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It is nearly impossible to forge a career with a conviction in one’s past. There are issues surrounding education; one of the issues is logistically making room for educational pursuits. Overcrowded facilities further complicate this issue, as do society’s hesitance to accept offenders after their incarceration. In addition, those who are incarcerated lack many basic skills and tools to perform well in society. They won’t necessarily have computer skills or they may lack training for various jobs. Unless felons are successful in life “on the streets” they are likely to make their way behind prison walls again.</b><br />
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<b><span style="color: red;"><u><i>Are there resources in place as solutions?</i></u></span> </b><br />
<b></b><br />
<b></b><br />
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<b>During our group’s dialogue we learned from our fellow group participants that there are many community based programs available to help integrate offenders back into the community. The issue with these programs is that they are duplicitous and those returning to the community are not likely to know about their existence. </b><br />
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<b><br />
<span style="color: red;"><u><i>Were there other considerations?</i></u></span></b><br />
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<b>One topic that popped up again and again in our group was the issue of having programs mandated for inmates. The inmates are instructed that they must have these programs in order to qualify for parole or release but those programs are unavailable or closed to them! The excuses the inmates hear have to do with lack of money, lack of materials, lack of room. The FEELING is that the system wants to keep incarcerated individuals in place in order to satisfy employment requirements at state-run facilities.<br />
<i style="color: blue;"><br />
There are so many more items we addressed; further posts will continue in this vein.</i><br />
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<i style="color: magenta;">Do YOU have someone close to you who has been incarcerated?</i> If so, you may be familiar with many of the issues brought to bear in our small group discussion. You may have gleaned information, insights, and solutions that might benefit others. There is much more to be said about this important topic; subsequent posts will address the above list of questions and a summary, so please return to read more about Restorative Justice.</b><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><b style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">It would be wonderful to have your comments. You are even welcome to do so anonymously.</span></b></div><b><br />
<a href="http://toothsoap.com/clean-your-teeth.php?af=1313797">Connie Baum</a></b><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><em>The FTC wants you to know there are links in this post. Should they be clicked, resulting in sales, your humble blogger would be fairly compensated. Please do your due diligence when conducting affairs online or offline. Always do business with those you trust implicitly</em></span><b> </b><input id="gwProxy" type="hidden" /><!--Session data--><input id="jsProxy" onclick="if(typeof(jsCall)=='function'){jsCall();}else{setTimeout('jsCall()',500);}" type="hidden" /><br />
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