My Mother's Kitchen

I had a wonderful dream last night, full of memory and detail. I was cleaning up my childhood home, preparing it for someone who rented it for 24 hours. I know this dream blends my present life because we have a vacation rental house here in the Keys that I manage and recently I checked out the kitchen to make sure it was adequately equipped during a week with no rental. But when I dream of homes, most often I am not in a house that I have occupied since adulthood, but back in my childhood home. Maybe that is because I have lived in so many homes since graduating college, that I haven't been able to form a real attachment to any.

I grew up in a post WWII development, called Kirkmere. My parents built a home in Poland, Ohio but saw this new development, near the city of Youngstown's wonderful WPA enhanced metropolitan park called Mill Creek, and for some reason decided to build there before moving in to the other home. The story has it, that my mother stuck her finger down on the plot map without looking and selected our lot, which was right across from the park and a sensational place to grow up. As children, we were free to roam and hike and play all day without supervision in miles and miles of nature with streams, waterfalls, lakes, glacial outcrops, nature trails, playgrounds, etc. Growing up in the 50's was not bad! I do not remember being anxious about strangers, perverts, pedophiles, kidnappers or the like - although there were a few strange incidents like the ski mask wearing marauder who jumped out when my sister and I were playing golf at the course in Mill Creek - wearing nothing else, or the man who used to expose himself to kids but always so far away out of our vision we thought he was playing with his car keys so it really didn't induce much trauma except to our mothers.

The house itself was not big by today's standards. There were six of us in a three bedroom, one bath home, with an extra toilet and creepy shower in the basement. It was the norm among my friends, and maybe even bigger than many in my circle.

But the dream that I had was about the kitchen. In my dream I was trying to make the kitchen look nice for the incoming renters. I think my entire adult life I have been compensating my own kitchen for what my mother's lacked. There were several things that drove me crazy as I got older. The drawer full of mismatched silver and stainless flatware was one. It was hard to set the little kitchen table we crowded around for nightly dinners (company and Sunday was in the dining room) and have a matching setting. And the dishes were the same. There was a collection of dishes and even later, when we grew up and gave my parents dishes, somehow others who didn't match found their way into that cupboard to present themselves when opened. Dining room dishes and flatware were different than everyday. They matched and looked presentable. But the kitchen was a mess of plastic, china, melamine and corning ware. I even remember a set of aluminum glasses in awesome colors but drinking from them was a strange experience of first tasting metal, than your beverage. And lastly, there was never a pen, or piece of paper handy if you needed to write a note. You would search high and low for any little scrap. I have made it my mission to always have a huge supply of pads of paper and more pens than I can use up in the rest of my lifetime to never have the stress of searching for something to write on or with. And, I will never (well, as long as I have cognitive skills left) have unmatched dishes or utensils. In fact, I have become a crusader for the cause and own more dishes than I have friends and family. I could host a neighborhood buffet.

I realize that my parents raised and sent four children to college on an average income. We always had a yearly vacation. We were dressed adequately. I don't remember feeling deprived. But for some reason, the lasting memory of the kitchen is one that has permeated my memory and dreams. In fact, I can still see into that silverware drawer, with a red plastic organizer and see the mess that greeted me.

The Eyes Have It

I know what "stink eye", "eyeing someone", the "evil eye", the Italian "malocchio", and "eyeballing" are. But, what do you call someone who has one eye focused on you and the other looking yonder? For some reason, I have met four people in the past two weeks with this condition and it has me unnerved! I just cannot figure out where to look when I talk to them. When I look at one eye, the other moves and I have to shift my look to that one. To the other person, I must look like I am watching a tennis match. Looking someone in the eye can be, at times challenging when both eyes focus forward. I never understood why, but there are some people who I find hard to look at when talking. I cannot get comfortable with which eye to look at so have to sort of dart back and forth. But this latest dilemma has reminded me of that character in Monty Python movies and I feel like I might get motion sickness trying to be polite.

Buena Suerte to the Giron family

There is a big hole in the staff of the Sea Dell and no one will be able to fill it. Lacey, our manager, and her husband Marvin, our all-around Mr. Fix-It, leave for Guatemala tomorrow. Marvin has been living in the U.S. for nine years as an illegal alien and he is going home to have his immigration hearing and get his green card. The lawyers say that it should happen in about six months, and we are hoping sooner. The positives: Marvin has not seen his family in nine years. If he went home before, he couldn't return. And, now he won't have to look over his shoulder and worry that he will be picked up and sent back without so much as a goodbye. The negatives: leaving family, home and jobs for an indefinite period of time and worrying about the outcome of the hearing.

Lacey and Marvin met on the beach one New Year's Eve. Neither was looking to meet someone, but that chance meeting changed their lives. Marvin didn't want to leave Lacey to return to Guatemala and making a living for both of them was much easier here. They eventually got married, and kept it a secret for a long time. They are a terrific couple! Hard working, conscientious, reliable, honest, caring and smart. It was easy to be happy about their union. Last year they added Brianna to their family and turned out to be wonderful parents also.

I am very proud of Harry for helping Lacey and Marvin obtain a lawyer and begin the legalization process. His encouragement and support and interactions with the lawyers were, in my opinion, what got them this close to having a real future, free of worry, with an open door to opportunity and success. Marvin contributes to our society, and enhances it, by being a kind, loving and responsible father, husband, friend and citizen. What possible reason can there be for keeping him out?

Customer Service - HA!

Is anyone else out there going as bonkers, nuts, crazy and is emotionally drained as I am over the amount of time spent on "customer service" or most accurately, lack of?? I know there are exceptions and some companies are right on target helpful, etc. but getting to that one person who can solve your problem is an exercise in whether you will give up or have a seizure first. First you are encouraged to try a support "portal" on the Internet and wait for a resolution for your issue. And, after no response for several days, you try again which means you are requesting support about your support request. Then, you get a response that you need to call customer service, whereupon calling, you are put on hold "due to blah, blah increased call volume." Then, after talking to someone in India who you cannot understand even though his English is more perfect than yours, and giving him every conceivable account number, email address and other information you can think of including your first grade school name, you are informed that you need to call technical service and he will transfer you. And then, you get the Muzak blaring in your ear while you wait for that elusive person who is going to solve your very minor but very annoying problem that like so many others, seems to take up so very much time in your life. And, so here I am, on hold AND able to write this whole blog during that time...

ADDENDUM 8/26 - After waiting on phone 54 minutes, I had to start over. Since Sammy sensed I was about to crawl through the phone, he wrested it from my semi-permanently curved fingers and politely handled the rest of the transaction. This time, the new Indian representative did his job, resolved the problem and I asked to speak to his supervisor and praised him for 5 star service.

An Attempt at Putting my Expensive Education to Use

An Attempt at Putting my Expensive Education to Use

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Kelleys Island

I am Grammy Care or Aunty Care to these four sensational kids. Gianna and Dom are my great niece and nephew and Jack and Ruby Kate are my grand kids. I spent last week with them on Kelleys Island in Lake Erie. I like my role. I like to have little kids soft pudgy hands to hold. I like when they climb on my lap and I can smell their summer warm sweaty hair smell. I like to have them telling me the important things in their world. I like how clear their eyes are. I like how they are uninhibited and can dance around with joy and abandon. I like to be goofy with them. Kids are just the best.

My grandson Jack and my son, Matt, picked me up at the Detroit airport. I thought they were outside in the car and I stepped off the escalator and marched forward to baggage so that I could get outside. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a little kid streak across the floor, screech to a stop in front of me and when I looked down it was Jack. I was so surprised and delighted that when I bent down with all my carry-ons dangling to give him a hug we toppled over onto the floor. Matt said we delighted the surrounding people who "aahed" over the scene.

We toured the Henry Ford museum in Detroit as our first stop and that evening met with my girlfriend Peg from Cleveland who was visiting family in Toledo for pizza with her brother and his family. The next day Megan, grand kids and I headed to Kelleys Island. Once across on the ferry, it was goodbye routine and hello vacation. No cable TV. No Internet. Limited cell service. A very nice house that we shared with my brother Tom, my sister Suzanne from DC, my two nieces Erin and Trish and Erin's kids. Later in the week Matt and Erin's husband Dave were able to get off work to join us. My sister Mary Beth and her husband Tom also visited for a day.

The week was relaxing and I found myself getting mellower as the days went by. Anyone who knows me, knows that I have a restless nature and am not a great "sitter". I found I enjoyed the simplest of activities! Playing Scattergories, making S'mores, picking wildflowers with the kids, taking walks, boating, laying in the hammock (always with three or four little bodies climbing in also), fishing, riding a golf cart around the island and, at night, watching the Perseid meteors in the most clear sky (and being able to see the Milky Way). But, most of all, just being with family and people you love and care about and catching up.

Highlights of the week: Ruby Kate had a stomach bug which got to three of the four kids. It didn't seem to cramp their style, but there were some "accidents" from both ends causing excitement (especially when on the boat out on Lake Erie). Dom, who is a year younger than the other two four year olds struggled to keep up with the big kids and he and Jack in particular had the testosterone going. No one could ever be "second", "slower", or have a toy that the other didn't want. Dom was talking in his sleep and his mom heard him say "Jack, don't take my truck." Wish my bad dreams were so simple! Jack walked in to the house and smelled Erin's delicious dinner cooking and said "That is the taste of my life." He and Dom would get into a spat, and Dom would start to cry and then Jack would crumble and cry. He can be bossy and tough one minute and sugar sweet and sensitive the next. When I said goodbye to him the day I left, he stopped what he was doing, looked up with tears welling in his eyes and said, "I am going to miss you." And if anyone thinks boys and girls are not different from day one, they are crazy! Dom and Jack could occupy themselves by throwing rocks, or on the boat with their pet fish - which were really dead minnows used for bait - by naming them, holding them, kissing them. Ugh. Gianna would not be interested in a dead fish. In fact, Gianna, as I have learned, is a real princess. Not the type you are thinking - she is the Disney type. Because her Grammy told her. She twirls and primps and dances and poses and is as girly as imaginable. And, considering how sweet and beautiful she is, maybe she really is a princess. I wouldn't be surprised if a movie comes out soon starring her. And lastly, but definitely not least, was little Ruby walking around like a drunken sailor looking, as Erin said "so darn cute." She has two upper "chicklet" teeth, as Megan calls them, which are wide apart and when she smiles, she wrinkles her nose up and gives you a smile that lights up the world. I nicknamed her "Alfie" for Alfred E. Newman but she is definitely one adorable little girl. She made Aunt Suzanne guffaw by sticking half her finger in her nose. She tried to put her toe in one day also. She is so happy and just always toddling around, observing the chaos.

Spending time with my beautiful nieces and daughter-in-law, my siblings, my son and nephew-in-law rounded up the week. Thanks to all for the great time, memories, laughs, listening and company. I love you all.

I'm All Ears

One of my biggest pet peeves is about the art of conversation. In my opinion, and I hope my actions, I believe conversation is about give and take. One person talks and one person listens and then there is the lovely dance of back and forth. With some people, it feels incredibly difficult, as though there is no commonality and the conversation is strained and superficial. And then, there are those blessed conversations that are easy, comfortable and fulfilling. You feel like you leave the conversation with some sense of valued self worth and a refreshingly good feeling about the other person from their end of the discourse.

But as I have gotten older, I feel more and more aware that there are people who just want to talk, but not listen. I keep wondering if it is age related, or if it was always as evident but I lost tolerance. My blog tonight is leaving me feeling like I am not experiencing a good conversation, because I want to know how others feel about this topic, and I do not hear any response. Wow, maybe blogging is totally selfish and self absorbed and I am like the people I don't like!!