Cluster of wheat image Grapes and vines image Cluster of wheat image
April 18th, 2014


The upheaval is underway full-tilt! The little room that once held a cot, chest of drawers, bookcase, computer snd printer, racks and shelves of clothes, miscellaneous window and wall appurtenances–gone, gutted, the lathes and plaster carted away; there never was any insulation. GUTTED! Everything worth keeping is somewhere else.

Next comes the big room, the living room, where I essentially lived when not in thr kitchen. Who wants all the stuff that has to be gone forever? Books galore, hundreds of cassettes, CD’S now going into boxes. Take down the pictures, put the TV somewhere else. Away with them! It’s Good Friday! Strip it!

We live in an opulent throw-away society, a time of “conspicuous consumption,” a time when a kid needs new sneakers as soon as the tops get dirty. I come from a time when you wore your sneakers until they had no soles, a time when we saved buttons and zippers and shoelaces. A time when Aunt Sue’s Sunday dress would eventually become a frock for little Nellie, then part of a quilt or a braided rug, and finally a pot holder or just plain rag. Actually I just threw out a lovely bag of shoelaces, all sizes, many colors, some not even opened yet. Such bounty–but who would appreciate a lovely collection of shoelaces other than some child in a garbage dump in Haiti? And getting them there would be such a chore. Out with it all!

Before the upheaval I had a bookcase in my bedroom on one whole wall from floor to ceiling, as well as bookshelves or bookcases in at least five other locations. It seems such a crime to throw out all that good reading! True, some are yellowed with age, and some only paperbacks that cost 35 cents in their day. Erma Bombeck, Rachel Carson, Eric Fromm. It’s going to be such a task to sort through them to make space for better(?), newer tomes which have not even been read yet, but had no shelf space.

AWAY! Till next time.

April 7th, 2014


Six and sixty years ago
You had a little girl,
Her name was Dorothy Dimple,
She had a golden curl.

She was a darling baby
As anyone could see
You gave her tender loving care,
Dad bounced her on his knee.

From Detroit to Lebanon
With your kiddies four
We travelled in our Model T
To Aunt Theresa’s door.

I made my first Communion there
And went to Henry Houck,
Learned to tap with Lillian,
For Uncle George Dad worked.

Then to Bridgeport via bus
At Grandma’s house to stay
We whooped it up in Grandma’s yard
what did she have to say?

You went to work at Gray Line bus,
And Dad at the GE,
Adele MRrie made her debut,
As cute as she could be.

We bought a lot on East Main Street
And Stratford became home.
We kids went here and there to school
And otherwise to roam.

One by one each took a spouse,
Began to propagate,
Now grandkids number twenty-three
Great-grandkids twenty-eight!

Your children now are turning gray,
Ninety-five years have fled,
Who would have thought ‘twould come to this
When Frank and Agnes wed?

We thank you, Mom, and you, too, Dad,
For years of loving care,
You did your best and raised us well,
We turned out passing fair.

So happy birthday once again,
We love you, one and all,
We pray for you God’s blessings now
And heaven at his call.
……….Dorothy Dimple

No real poet am I but a loving daughter. The “Upheaval” resurrected this old poem that I hardly recall at all. Mom and Dad were both worthy of poems in their honor. Though I took them for granted as a child I have come to appreciate how fortunate we all were to have such parents. They were there and interactive, dependable, honest, kind, hard-working, and many other good things. We were hit hard by the depression and
Dad, a carpenter by trade, could not find work. Eventually, as in the poem, we ended up in Bridgeport where Mom, class valedictorian and a trained bookkeeper, worked briefly in an awning factory sewing awnings. She then got the job as bookkeeper for the bus company, Dad got a job at GE, and we were once again solvent. All children should be as blessed as we were!

April 7th, 2014


Change! I feel truly blessed to be doing as well as I am at 90 but, even so, change is very challenging to old folks. Everyone seems to agree that providing me with a bathroom on the first floor is a good idea. But we have lived here over 50 years and with 7 kids one bathroom upstairs always seemed to be enough. And I get lots of exercise going up and down stairs. After all, Betty White says her old house with the stairs is what keeps her so spry. True, mine are rather steep stairs and there is a big old metal steam radiator right at the bottom. Falling down them would not be a good idea. (Bumpity bumpity bump CRASH!) The proposed bathroom would be in the little room now used as my computer room and which I made into a kind of walk-in closet years ago with shelves and rods and many, many clothes. Even though I almost never buy clothes they seem to accumulate (because they still fit and people buy them as gifts) and I have lots more than I’ll ever need. Every cranny and nook in this old house (built in 1870) is occupied with STUFF, and I have long felt I needed to get rid of a lot of it but, you know, that requires DECISIONS and parting with things that may SOMEDAY come in handy. So, it is, in a way, good to have the impetus of an upcoming incoming bathroom. Sonny says everything has to come down right to the lathes and there will be plumbers and all that.

On top of which (!) the living room ceiling has to come down. Early this year we had a furnace failure (the automatic water cut-off valve didn’t cut off and every radiator was dripping with water coming through the downstairs ceiling and pouring out in the basement. That same son managed to stem the tide and the living room ceiling which was bad before is really pleading for help. So, ceiling has to come down, walls, too, right down to the lathes, and, of course, everything has to be moved. (Where? Good question!) Just the thought of it is overwhelming! Two rooms to be gutted and re-done. Two rooms of furniture to be moved. To where? The other rooms, of course. Thank God I have five of them!

Now I must give credit where credit is due. Sonny is very good at planning and executing plans. He is quite able to handle such a situation. He does good work and has good taste. He loves his Mommy and I dearly love him. God willing I will survive this upheaval and reap the benefits down the line. I am trying to get a head start and sort and move and plan where everything will go while the work is going on. The trouble is EVERYTHING WILL BE SOMEPLACE ELSE. Not where it has always been. Will I remember where things were put?

I know. I am a blessed woman. Thank you, God. What does it really matter if something of mine gets moved from here to there for a week or a month? The internet is awash with warnings of a third world war, economic collapse, a government coup, of global cooking, of rampant sexual excesses, racial unrest, increasing drug addiction and suicides. For each day of relative peace I should be so grateful. And I am. A blood moon is predicted for April 15, coinciding with Passover—-interesting astronomical occurrence or Biblical sign?

The times they are a-changing.

April 6th, 2014


It was my 70th birthday and I was still doing medical transcription at Associated Neurologists. It was also not quite a month since my daughter, Peggy, had been killed. It was the custom at the office in those days for the whole staff to gather for everyone’s birthday and “surprise” them with a birthday cake, singing “Happy Birthday to You.”

On that day as I was typing away Gloria and Ginny appeared at the door of my office, cake in hand, and said quietly, “Happy Birthday, Dottie” – just the two of them. I immediately put my head down on my typewriter and started to cry. Glo said, “Are you OK, Dottie?” I answered, “How can I be OK?” Glo said, “I don’t know how you get up in the morning,” and Ginny’s face began to crumple as if she were about to cry. It is all still crystal clear in my mind. This sort of thing seems to etch itself forever in the memory. They were so kind and gentle that it still brings a tear to my eye.

I had my little cry and we all went down to the meeting room and enjoyed cake. Some twenty years later I remember with gratitude that thoughtfulness.