My mother didn’t let me cook in the kitchen much, really not at all. Our schedule was pretty set also. Most of the time during the spring, summer, and fall was spent in the fields if not at school. Until my brother and I were old enough to drive on our own, we were pretty much expected to go with. I think my parents thought that being so isolated out in the country would lead to someone breaking in and massacring us if we were left home alone. My mother would fix hamburgers for a lot of meals out in the field, and evenings we had our big meal. Days when my dad was in the field or working outside the big meal was after dark. I even remember days my dad would keep working with lights on the equipment to get done because rain was coming. My mother would be responsible for taking the trucks to the elevator to dump many times, so times at home were only the few minutes between loads. As soon as I was old enough to see over the steering wheel and reach the pedals I was responsible for driving a vehicle to the field behind my mother with strict instructions to pull over if another car came along.
My brother and I would play in the field doing everything from jumping in the trucks of corn and beans to riding motorbikes along the side of the fields and up hills. Most of my childhood was spent outside! My dad’s staple was a can of Pepsi between each meal and my mother would always have a spare cooler. My dad drank so much of it, that my mom would hunt down the Pepsi truck and buy directly from the delivery driver. My favorite though was Hawaiian punch. My brother and I also would spend time swimming, canoeing, biking, and anything else we could think to try. – The only thing we didn’t try was camping…. My father said we lived in the woods why would we want to sleep out in it.
Cooking
I do remember one time though. Our high school had an exchange day and I needed to make lunch for my dad. I decided pizza was the way to go. I wasn’t really familiar with the ingredients to use and frozen pizza wasn’t a thing yet. – Actually microwaves weren’t either. The only thing I remember about that pizza though was that I put orange zest on it. I’m not sure why, but it was in the kitchen and seemed a good idea at the time. My dad ate it, and never said a word about it being good or bad! Just came in, ate, and went back out to work again.
Science Experiment
My next try in the kitchen was a science experiment. I had found an old science lab kit. I did enjoy science, but I can’t say science was encouraged at home. – Though for some reason I did have this science kit. I decided the best thing to do with it, was to mix a little of each thing in the box together and see what would happen. The kit came with glass test tubes and lots of chemicals. I mixed everything together in my test tube (just a little) and then mixed it. Needless to say, the top of the test tube blew off hitting the ceiling. We do still have that kit here. Looking at it now, I’m sure that kits can’t be bought anymore with those ingredients. Now looking back I know I was lucky something more serious than a dent mark in the ceiling didn’t occur, but back then it didn’t even cross my mind.
Now
Now I have my own kitchen and get to cook all the time. My kids and I also do science experiments pretty often. I know my mother isn’t too impressed with my food, but I don’t tend to use a lot of things like salt and fatty food, like the stuff I grew up on. My husband does love hamburgers, so we break down and have them every few weeks.
Growing up, my parents had a lot of animals. My favorite pets were between a dog that was a golden retriever/Irish setter mix that my father had named after my cousin’s mom and a cat.
Dog
We had a LOT of dogs. The mix that was my favorite was around for many years. She was mine. For my brother we had an English Setter named Waldo that was the result of a trip to Kentucky when I was in second grade. I remember that one a little more than when we got my dog because of the tobacco that we were given to bring back for show and tell. It was a family road trip to pick up the dog – which was rare for our family. Road trips included my dad singing Purple People Eater – and amusing us for hours with us questioning him about the blue light that kept going off (bright lights that used to be controlled by the foot switch). We also had a little black and white dog called Scudder, he was another favorite was part of the three amigos with my brother’s dog and mine. Scudder was what looked like a terrier mix.
Besides having a few other dogs, including one that had to have a CSection at one point while having puppies and a few that came and went so fast they didn’t get names – our final favorite dog was Butter. Butter was a Dashund (weiner dog) that came in a pair with Peanut. At the time I really didn’t get the name. It wasn’t until years later when my husband pointed it out that I finally got it. Peanut had an issue with his ear shortly after showing up and it swelled up. My father’s solution was to pop it and get the puss out. Of course the dog bit him…. My dad’s big rule was that none of the dog’s could bite us, so he had to find a new home. I’m fairly certain that is what really what happened… Butter on the other hand stayed to keep us company. The only thing she ever bit was Robby’s dog Waldo. Waldo, even though he was a big dog, was afraid of her for the rest of time. I remember wanting Butter to sleep with me and my mother’s rule was that I couldn’t lift her. So I would pat the bed and call and do everything I could until she would find a way up into the bed (I had a high bed). Somehow that dog would do it. So she would sleep with me. After my Grandmother lost her second husband, she was lonely though…. So Butter went to stay with her. Butter would chew up anything not in the laundry basket and had a few quirky tendencies, but she was a fun dog! I’ll never forget when she would go to the pond and swim how her tail was spin like a propeller…
Cat
Starting at about 2, my parents realized I was really allergic to a lot of things. They had left me with my cousin Joellyn to babysit and I had decided to play with the cats. My allergic reaction was so bad my parents rushed me to the doctor. Years later I begged for a cat though. Our cats were outdoor cats because of my allergies, but I loved having a cat. I named one Triple Trouble and called it TT.. The rest have names that have slipped my mind over the years. I do remember a big yellow cat that must have been named something like Garfield that climbed my face one day when I insisted on carrying it out to show friends who had brought a dog over.
TT was a gray cat and for some reason I think that cat might have stayed in the house at least part of the time. More recently we allowed our middle son to get a cat that he named Spy. I tend to call it Evil as a nickname, but it stayed here until my little one was born. Spy was the same gray as TT. Spy is name living on the farm – really living on the farm in Illinois. I take a picture every time I visit. That cat has gotten old and seems to be king of the porch at my parents. Spy was the oddest cat when living here. He would play fetch with whiffle balls, turn off and on lights, chase lasers, and only drink running water. What got him sent to live at the farm was his desire to hunt and attack people by surprise. With the new little one we had decided that he had to find a new home at the farm.
Horse
Sometime before second grade my dad agreed to get me a horse. He really didn’t like horses (AT ALL), but he got one for me. It was beautiful. I’ve loved horses ever since, though it was the only horse I’ve ever owned. I named it Puff… yes another thing that I didn’t really get where I got the name until recently when my husband reminded me of the song Puff the Magic Dragon. Also didn’t get what that song was about. For the first few years of my life we lived in a trailer by my Aunt Margaret’s. The back part was a barn yard, so the horse stayed there. The only day I have a vague memory of was my parents putting my brother and I on the horse and leading it around the barnyard. Something, probably a dog, walked in front of the horse causing it to panic. My dad grabbed the horse, my mom grabbed my brother…. I fell.
After we moved to the Illk house that my parent’s got from Ralph Goodrich it was a little while before the horse moved to follow us. But after a while my dad did build a pin for the horse. Puff had been broken to ride by my dad’s friend Rick Lane, but would try to rub me off whenever we were near anything. Most of my time riding was instead at my friend Vicky’s house, whose dad had his own rodeo arena in their yard.
I remember coming home from my grandmother’s one day to just find Puff (and my brother’s horse Daisy) gone. My dad ha. d decided to load them up and send them away. I do hope sometime I’ll be able to get a horse again. Maybe one that’s a little better trained for riding, but I’d love to have a horse when we get back to the farm….
Lamb
While living in the trailer, for a short time, my mother was given a lamb. My mom raised it with a bottle, let it sleep at the end of my bed, and treated it like a dog. My dad docked it’s tail and it roamed the yard like a dog for a while after it became an adult. Somewhere there is a picture of my brother with mud on his face where the lamb had decided his hair looked like hay. My mom has a story of a sales person being confused by the ‘dog’ that had joined the group of dogs to be petted at the door while he was trying to sell her something. Back then people came to the door with everything from vacuum cleaners (Kirby) to encyclopedias… and yes my parents bought them sometimes – my parents even bought a TV once off the back of a truck that came to our door!
and more oh my!
Besides all the others, we also had everything from Buffalo, Fallow Deer, Ferrets, and lots more. The bigger animals like the Buffalo and Deer were fun, but more the type of pets like you see in a zoo. Some of the smaller ones like the ferrets were only at our house for a short visit. – I think the ferret was ours for a weekend. We also would get everything from chickens to calves that we call pets, but would later become dinner. One pair even became named lunch and dinner.
With the new technology that exists, it’s amazing the things you can find and see. While researching Muncie Illinois I had located an old map from the early 1900s. I’ve been trying to match up the streets and find where the original train station was. To match up the map, I was able to pull up the aerial maps from Google Maps. The map not only includes the streets, but you can see an aerial picture of the locations. I can zoom in and out and move around. I also was able to follow the path of the google car and look around as if I was driving down the street in Muncie. The car took the route down Main street and turned onto 150.
Following the Google car route, you can have a 360 degree view around the car!
From the areal, I’ve been able to make out the ball field – which I assume must still be in use. The school which is now being used by the church, and the church with their parking lot. I have pictures of all my favorite spots from the roadside, but the maps are great for comparing with the historic maps.
Collins McArdle
The earliest birth in the bible is Collins McArdle. Collins parents who are my direct ancestors seem to be missing, making me think this is Collins (or his descendants) Bible.
Family Bibles
Family Bibles are a great place to find out information about Births, Deaths, and Marriages. The family bible used to be the favorite place to record major events in any family. This shows scans from the McArdle Family Bible (of the Collins McArdle) branch of the family. Lots of great information is included! I have the family Bible on my other side form the Corbly part of the family (Dad’s Side), but these are from my mother’s side. My mother is interesting in tracking down information about her grandmother especially. Hattie Jane Mahaffey – wife of Elmer McArdle.
The History
Collins McArdle – March 20, 1833, the first birth recorded was my 3rd great uncle and born in Virginia. His parents were Nancy Morgan and John McArdle. His brother Uriah was my 2nd great grandfather. Uriah was killed from injuries he received saving his grandchild from a run away oxen team. (The Daily Herald June 14, 1912). The McArdle Bible shown was from the Collins McArdle branch of the family, born in Virginia – moved to Illinois, and then moved on to Kansas. Even being another branch of the tree, these Bible pages are still interesting!
Relating to My Branch
Collins McArdle was only one year in age difference from Uriah. I would assume this would have made them close brothers. My father has a lot of brothers and sisters and growing up in a small house, older siblings had to move out as new siblings were born. My dad actually has a nephew the same age as he is! As I follow Collins through the census in Virginia and Illinois Uriah is nearby throughout Collins Virginia and Illinois years. By the 1860 census, Collins has married and that is the beginning of the split. In the 1870 census, Collins can be found in Kansas, where he remained the rest of his life. Uriah, on the other hand stayed in Illinois in the same area that the family had relocated to from Virginia.
1850 Illinois Census with John McArdle that includes Collins McArdle and Uriah McArdle
1850 Census John McArdle Family (Page 2)
1860 Census – Collins McArdle Family – Illinois
Interestingly enough in the Kansas Census Electra McArdle Wygle is also listed as living with her husband Jacob Wygle and children near Collins McArdle. Electra also being a sibling of my 2nd great grandfather Uriah. Wygles have shown up on DNA results on the different bureaus. The interesting thing is that she is hard to find in the census records as Electra McArdle. In the 1850 Census she had already aged out of the household…. and any census before 1850 only would list the head of the household. Electra is listed as Lectra McArdle marrying Jacob Wygle on 15 Jun 1848 in Iowa, so my thought is that Electra married Jacob Wygle and moved out west, ending up in Kansas. As time went on a message might have been sent to her younger brothers that land was available in Kansas and to come join the land grab.
Most of Kansas became permanently part of the United States in the Louisiana Purchase of 1803. When the area was opened to settlement by the Kansas–Nebraska Act of 1854 it became a battlefield that helped cause the American Civil War. Settlers from North and South came in order to vote slavery down or up. The free state element prevailed.
According to records, scores of settlers came to Kansas after the Kansas-Nebraska Act in 1854. The timing does work. I’m not sure which side of the debate this part of the family would have been on, but it does seem that they may have moved to Kansas to join the rush. Of course this is all conjecture… but, it’s interesting to think of the reasons that they may have moved out west, leaving friends and family at the time.
1870 Census KS – includes Collins McArdle and Electra Wygle….
Our current house has a landing part way up the stairs. I decided to decorate the stairs with current pictures of my immediate family. Finding pictures was a matter of searching my hard drive for the digital photos that would match what I wanted and then printing them in the size I wanted. Using printed pictures I’m sure the quality isn’t as high resolution as previous pictures, but guilt when we want ot swap out of a set of pictures is non-existent. Currently I 
have a couple pictures of the boys at their current ages and some of them as preschoolers.
I included pictures of ourselves also, and some information about our family tree! Below the family tree of photo frames I have an antique drop leaf gate leg table that includes a chess set on a runner. On the table top is also a lamp from my childhood. The lamp was one found in the Illk house when we moved in after Ralph Goodrich moved on. It is designed to look like a dancer with a lace skirt and huge lace ‘hat’ for a lap shade.
The bottom of the lamp is a nightlight with the top being a standard lamp. I’ve been a little nervous to use the nightlight portion of the lamp for more than a few minutes due to the fragile feel of the skirt. I think it would be likely to be a fire risk if it is lit and heats up.
I claimed this lamp when we moved into the Illk house when I was in second grade and still have it as well as the toddler sized doll. I’d love to know more about the type of lamp and history of the lamp!
Visiting home it’s not unusual to see deer. – Growing up we actually had deer as pets! The deer I see on visits now are w
hite tail deer, indigenous to the state of Illinois. (Growing up our deer were Fallow Deer) They are kind of like large rodents as far as farmers are concerned, but are also great for a beef replacement and a lot cheaper. Deer come into fields and eat the corn when they have a chance. Farmers can get nuisance permits to hunt in the off season on their own property to deal with deer coming to literally eat their livelihood. That being said, deer are cute! Speaking as someone that has several as pets, they are a little like cute farm animals that will eat from your hand when they are comfortable with you.
From past experience though deer can also be dangerous…. I’ve seen deer throw a tire in the air with their antlers and also hit the sides of their cage and knock the person standing next to it down on the ground. Deer can jump high into the air, so we kept ours with a cage made of old corn cob sides that were raised in the air enough to keep them in. The buck was dangerous with antlers, but I was always convinced he was trying to play with us like he would with other bucks in the herd. Now though, our deer watching amounts to watching White Tail Deer from a distance. They come into the fields to
snack on corn and bean plants at the early hours of the day and just as the sun starts to set.
Pictures
I like to take pictures of the deer – I actually caught a video of a deer the other day that walked beside our car, turned to look at me as if staring me down and then just started peeing. So far the only shooting I’ve done of deer are pictures……
The deer are everywhere. We see them crossing roads, in the fields, and even every night at the Oakwood rest stop on our last visit. Some of my pictures are quick pull out the camera there they are again, and others are thought out, they aren’t moving pictures. When we are home for good, it will be fun to try to catch deer in all their different stages. I’d love to catch some fawns with their spots!
Hunting
I can’t bring myself to actually hunt deer. The last hunting I did was raccoons I think with my father. We also hunted frogs for the legs and 
caught fish. I’ll remember the traipsing across the field, shotgun, dogs included, and off to look for raccoons. I also remember the sound of the raccoons squealing after they fell from the tree. The frogs I could take or leave and they went with the turtles that for us kids really just meant we got to play with heads… Fish were something my father kept stocked in the pond. I was horned by a catfish at a pond at the farm we called the Ranch and refused to fish anything but Sunfish and Bass after that. Totally another story….
Now even with spiders I have a hard time killing them off myself. I once put a spider in a container and told it, if it could get out it was free to go…. I couldn’t bring myself to kill it, but I also couldn’t LIVE with it in my house…. Don’t get me wrong! I don’t have any problem with others hunting as long as they use what they kill and don’t just shoot it and leave it. Shooting for sport is wrong.
I remember as friends of my parents coming over to hunt over the years. Sometimes the hunt was bow, and sometimes there was drinking. I don’t remember seeing my dad drink much, so for me it was always a little funny to see the drunks come over and stumble around with plans to go out and hunt with fatal weapons. I’ve seen them make plans to walk down each side of the field pointed at each other with shotguns, looking for deer to hunt. Heading out with coolers of beer…. The time I remember most though was the friend of a my parent’s friend that came over drunk with a bow and needed string it. He tried with an arrow in the bow! I don’t think my parents let me see the gash, but someone had to rush him to the emergency room after that.
My dad would go out each year though and get how ever many deer he had permits for and hang them up, then my parents would spend the next few days packaging all the meat. The kitchen table would be covered with a meat grinder, freezer paper, and parts of meat. My dad would run out to the barn and cut chunks off as they were ready for more and he would cut them up inside with big knives. The deer were always hung up out in the machine shed.
A couple times my mother decided she wanted to cure the hides and dad took the hides off also. My brother and I had some play space set up in the basement…. Basement for us meant old concrete floor unfinished over 100 year old house where the coal furnace had been that was open to the dirt in some spots. My mother took one room of the basement, read some books on tanning hides (the internet didn’t exist yet), and gave it a try! I think the first step was to dry the hide out with salt, so the hides were in the basement covered in salt for months. I don’t remember them passing that stage, or even what happened to them, but I’m sure they aren’t still in the basement of the old house with my brother living there now!
Venison
I do like venison, though the thing I like most about it is that it’s free. To me it seems I’d be hypocritical to not be a vegetarian and say I won’t eat venison. I’ve never really been able to tell the difference in taste. If someone showed me two cuts of meat, I am fairly certain I could tell you which is which – deer is a lot leaner meat…. But my taste buds just aren’t that refined. There is a difference in where the deer came from. I know some deer come from areas that make them taste gamey. Our area makes the deer taste the same as cows in my view. When I see deer running around in the field, my first thought isn’t that they are dinner – though I do have to admit it is in the top 10. I’d say though I have the same thoughts about a cow.
Growing up dinner almost always amounted to my mother sending us to the freezer to pull out a type of meat. We had huge deep freezes in the garage to store all the venison and by type of meat I don’t mean cow or venison. Type of meat was written on each white wrapped package in black permanent marker! There were tenderloin, beef chunks, hamburger, little steaks, deer roast, and more. All labeled in my mother’s writing and all packed into the freezer in the white paper. – Now my mother goes to a processing plant and gets the meat in a professional looking package. She takes in any deer they have gotten and the butcher lets her know when it has been turned into what she has listed. We just tried some new types of deer sticks this last visit!
Retirement
I have no idea what will happen when we retire and move home. Will my husband decide to give hunting a try? I can’t see my children deciding to shoot deer with anything but a camera…
I recently read an article by someone about what she would tell her children if she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease.
We’ve actually lived through a few instances of both Alzheimer’s and dementia now and in the past. Both are pretty sucky diseases! I got the impression from the article (and I could be wrong) that the person writing it was talking about the disease that you see on television. The forgetful parent that is living in the past and is still mobile. For Alzheimer’s disease that was a stage we did see too. I won’t write much about it other than to say my impression was that the article was written to make caregivers feel guilty for thoughts they may be having. Thoughts that they already are probably having a hard time with. In reality, no two people with Alzheimer’s or Dementia are the same. When I say it’s a sucky disease I mean it becomes a disease like being locked inside your body with no way to communicate and no one has any idea if you are aware or not. Think awake coma…. In this case though there isn’t the television hope of they are going to wake up… the hope really is that they don’t suffer too much.
My Aunt Kate – Alzheimers
My Aunt Kate was my first experience with Alzheimer’s disease. We didn’t even have a clue what was going on at first. Growing up I loved spending time with her. She, my Aunt Lena Mack, and my grandmother had been the youngest girls in the family of nine kids in an immigrant family raised by my great grandmother. The lost their father in 1918 in the flu. My Aunt Kate had married a miner when she was young and then lost him early. She later met my Uncle Ralph who sold insurance and took photos – lots of phots, and developed them himself!
They lived in the coolest house. If I had been old enough when she sold that house in Danville Illinois, I would have bought it for sure! It is still there, but has been changed beyond belief. It’s beside DCFS and is now a hair place painted blue. It had a huge wrap around porch and at least 4 rooms upstairs. One of the rooms was a suite and my aunt and uncle never used that part of the house – except when we visited. One room had a huge walk in closet with a vanity also. I would go up and check out the vanity with the mirror and old style hair brush, ten wander around. My parents would drop us at my aunt and uncles when they wanted to go out and needed a babysitter…. My aunt always had a quilt set up in the dining room also. I loved her quilt frame and went on to have my husband create a similar one for me. My grandmother would piece quilts and my aunt would quilt them. She could finish the whole quilt in a month and her stitches were amazing.
Later she moved to a condo after selling. My grandmother sold her own house and moved nearby, and over time they moved in together. I remember though the first signs being in the apartment where my aunt started repeating the same stories over and over again. She had stories that we had heard a few times before, but it seemed those stories started coming up more often. Why she didn’t have any children was a popular one. At first though it was little things, nothing that we could really say for sure. Over time though it started to become obvious that memory as becoming a problem.
At this point I had left for college and was just seeing everyone on visits. On visits it still appeared my aunt was the same person but told the same stories a few too many times. My family had started to realize though. My grandmother and Aunt got a house together, alarms had to be put on the doors in case she wandered…. and my grandmother had to be the caregiver. But then my grandmother got sick… My grandmother found out she had breast cancer when my oldest was born. We had to debate live vaccines or dead vaccines at the time because of chemo… and rearrange baptisms so that she would be healthy enough to attend. The question though was, if the caregiver now needs care? So my aunt had to go to a facility.
My Aunt Kate at assisted living would call home asking to be picked up. She would try to escape, following people out. She also though would tell people stories about how she worked there and would run around making people’s beds for them. We would bring the kids to visit, and everyone loved them. As time went on her mind retreated and she started recognizing people as the younger version of people from her childhood. Visiting was good, she may have thought we were someone else, but it was good for her to interact.
Near the end though Alzheimer’s patient’s become violent. They are frustrated at the fact they can’t remember and they start to just fight back against everything and everyone. My mother dealt with that. Patients start losing their ability to do basic things. The toughest part is that their body in many parts is healthy, it’s only their mind that is suffering.
My Dad – Vascular Dementia
My dad on the other hand is suffering from vascular dementia. My father had been suffering from untreated high blood pressure for quite a while without realizing it. It apparently put little holes in parts of his brain. Additionally he had a motor cycle accident in his late teens that causes brain damage. The brain damage from the accident was so bad he wasn’t expected to live, but he had made it – and he 
recovered with just head aches. Now though the accident makes brain scans difficult.
One morning my father had a stroke, that was really the beginning of the end. The doctor found the high blood pressure and started treating it. My father’s family though has a history of strokes and my dad’s strokes didn’t stop them. My father has had trouble with clotting and each stroke the doctors wouldn’t realize what was going on until later. I remember a call where my mother called me and said that my father couldn’t move his hand anymore, had slurred his speech but the doctor over the phone said it couldn’t be a stroke and not to bring him in…. I don’t even have a medical degree and suspected stroke…. Two days later they decided it maybe was a stroke and put him in the hospital.
After a couple years of this, a doctor decided my father needed a heart valve replacement. My father was having issues with memory, slowly slipping. My mother was still able to leave him for short periods of time (though he once threw away their smoke detector when cooking in the microwave). My dad was doing a few odd things like he pushed a grain wagon in the pond by mistake, but he was puttering around the farm… still going out and interacting sometimes. I have a video of him sword fighting with fake swords with my youngest. We debated the surgery though….. without it according to the doctors, my father wouldn’t have much time left. Ultimately we left it up to my dad, who originally was saying no, but in the end said yes.
Ultimately the surgery was the final straw. Unknown to us at the time, surgery like this can cause a drastic decline in some older patients like this…. and my dad was one of those odds. He went through a personality change that was a little tough to deal with, his memory quickly decreased, and physically he never fully recovered. As he declined quickly he needed a walker, but couldn’t remember to use it. Not using a walker when you need it, leads to falls. So we were dealing with health issues, behavior changes, and other new issues and my dad wasn’t a small man.
Moving into memory care, because of the behavior changes, caused my dad to have issues with caregivers in the facilities. Men are much more rare in nursing homes. My father was sent to locked wards at first to adjust his meds for behavior, then the first facility took him and just dropped him at an ER and said they wouldn’t take him back. We were new to all this, dealing with documenting everything, but lost really. Luckily we found a facility in the Amish community (a couple hours away) that was willing to take my father. Due to the first facility my father had been blacklisted everywhere close. After a while my father was able to be moved closer and is now a lot closer… but now he’s no longer in a memory care unit.
Vascular Dementia really can mean that the memory only declines each time there is new brain damage, usually in our case from a stroke. My father’s body itself has failed him completely. He can’t walk, doesn’t use one hand, and is pretty much locked away. My father was always active. My dad was a farmer… He doesn’t normally speak unless you ask him a question, and then sometimes he just stares at you. We will continue to visit, but to me it looks like he’s being tortured. Kind of like the people on television given paralytic drugs and set in front of a tv to watch glimpses of their families lives with no hope of ever escaping.
What I want my Kids to Know
For me I want my kids (and how we decide things) to make decisions that they can live with. There is enough guilt no matter what you decide when dealing with these things. Don’t ever let anyone else make you feel guilty over any choice you make. Never second guess a decision you have made, you can’t back and change something you decided in the past – so just move forward and make future plans. I can say don’t feel guilty over anything you decide or do, but no matter what – if you have anything to do with the decision, you are going to feel some guilt over some parts of what happen.
When Alzheimer’s and Dementia patients reach the point where they no longer remember family and start becoming violent, or the point where they can longer answer questions and just stare, it’s hard to not feel like they are being tortured…. actually some even earlier will tell you that they are being held against their will. They will call at night and ask to be picked up, taken home.
NOTE:
I don’t include normally much about what my dad and mom are going through now. If anyone is going through Vascular Dementia and wants to talk privately though they are always welcome to contact me.
I’m currently working on repairing a family Bible. The Bible itself is pretty amazing. I’ve fixed the spine already and am now working on the pages. The center of the Bible contains the family information and is readable.
Throughout the Bible are pages with beautiful pictures that appear to have had tissue paper pages on the opposing sides. All the images other than one appear to be in good shape. The image needing the most repair includes Moses with the 10 commandments.
The pages have all taken on a yellow tinge from the acid in the paper. Supposedly paper kept out of the light and air will stay white, but this bible was stored in an attic, then a basement and over time moved to be stored in a bedroom until finally coming to stay with me. I have the Bible now in an acid free box with small containers to absorb any moisture. Included in the box is now acid free tissue paper.
I’ve been taking the Bible out as needed to work on the pages. I chose a kit from Gaylord Archival that is museum quality. Gaylord has several Book Repair kits, including some new tool kits. The kit I have includes book binding materials, binding glue, tape for the pages, and several other materials. – I’ve finished the binding and am now working on the pages.
Filmy tape allows the page to be placed together and the tape to be placed over the tear. The tape is almost invisible after being put over the repair. I’ve fixed a few pages, and the tape is working perfectly when the page is whole – but has a rip in the page. I’m at more of a loss when it comes to the repair of the pages that are missing pieces. Missing pieces along the binding edge are the most complex. I’m still working on finding the best method to deal with those pages, but first have been working my way though the pages that are least damaged.
LATER:
Later I will need to look through the pages and find the best way to deal with the yellowing. The yellow pages are throughout the Bible and if there would be a method of reducing the discoloration it might take some time and effort. The Bible is definitely worth the effort though and the majority of the sections have minimal damage.
Dogs visiting our house in Kentucky are pretty rare, but my mother brings hers off and on. My son, who doesn’t normally watch dogs stayed with the dogs for the day while we went out for a while. The beagle (who is huge) decided to try to escape! He normally digs looking for rabbits all over our backyard, but this was a new one. Growing up, our dogs were generally let to run around the yard and not kept in cages. When they were put in cages – the cages were made of wire from corn cribs. Apparently the wood just doesn’t stand up to a beagle.
So the question is, do we need a stronger fence or a dog sitter that knows more about dogs? And how do I keep the dogs in? I’ve been placing chairs over every hole in the yard to stop the dogs from escaping.
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I LOVE morels! With the odd weather this year, I expect morels to pop up early this year. We have a pear tree flowering in our backyard so I wouldn’t be surprised if the morels are up very soon. I think they actually pop up after the group reaches a certain temperature for a certain amount of time in the spring…. but as a kid I thought they came up under may apples. I would look under all the may apple plants searching every time we went out.
Searching for morels was a spring activity for everyone in our family every year! All of my aunts for sure had their secret spots (they still do), and we all would track where the mushrooms were found last year to know where to search next year. Every possible story was followed, including making sure to pinch the mushrooms off so that the stems were left in case that would cause more to grow. We would find them growing in our large yard also and my mother would insist no one mow during the whole mushroom season. My parents would push sticks into the ground near each mushroom to see if they would grow larger. As the season went on, sticks would mark spots in our yard and we would have daily trips out walking through the wood to find morels. Dinner every night included mushrooms, and there was always a bowl of salt water in the fridge with mushrooms to get the bugs out before washing and cutting up the mushrooms.
My aunts, uncles, and cousins that lived in the non rural areas would all come visit and we would visit the not so secret spots. The mushrooms marked in the yard were saved for little kids to have some mushrooms that were easy to find – Almost like mushroom hunting training! Some of the spots were easier to walk through and access, some tougher, and some led to discussions with trespassers who were found sneaking onto our property.
One year while taking my middle son who was probably about five, my mother had told him that the land would one day be his. Shortly after they ran into people that had trespassed to come hunt on our land…. My middle son proceeded to confront them….. luckily it turned out OK, but that usually doesn’t go well. My father has confronted people in the past that have told him they had the owners permission to be there. I always have to wonder if they are that bold or just that confused about whose property they are on.
People go through extreme measures to keep their spots hidden. Long before I got my drivers license, my aunt would give me her car to drive and have me drop her at her mushroom spot with instructions when to come back and get her. She would hike in to her mushroom spot, but didn’t want anyone to know where the entry spot was. Luckily living on a farm I learned to drive really early!
To cook the mushrooms, we usually just roll them in flower and fry them in butter a little salt and pepper. My mother would first dip them in egg if she wanted to stretch the amount of mushrooms. I’ve tried to reproduce them, but mine never come out the same as my mothers. – Of course I’m sure I’m using a little healthier oil and probably less salt for sure….. My family still eats them. Every year we start with just a few for the first meal, and then eat more the next meal….. According to family stories anyone can be fine one year and allergic the next, so start small. There are also some people that are allergic their first try, so anyone having them the first time, we just let have a few…. Also from the same family stories. My mother tells about being pregnant with me, and my grandfather Richter refusing to let her eat morels, just in case.
Personally I love them though! My husband doesn’t seem to like them, which for me just means MORE for me! Two years ago during a mushroom hunt our family got our first pet tree frog. We now have our toad, but mushrooms are completely to blame for the fire bellied toad in our house.
I do remember one time though. Our high school had an exchange day and I needed to make lunch for my dad. I decided pizza was the way to go. I wasn’t really familiar with the ingredients to use and frozen pizza wasn’t a thing yet. – Actually microwaves weren’t either. The only thing I remember about that pizza though was that I put orange zest on it. I’m not sure why, but it was in the kitchen and seemed a good idea at the time. My dad ate it, and never said a word about it being good or bad! Just came in, ate, and went back out to work again.
