A Tribute To May and Mother

Whatever happened to May Day? Back in the early ‘40’s when I was growing up in Houston, Texas, we celebrated the first day of May, both at our elementary school and in our neighborhoods. On that day, as first and second graders, we would gather on the playground where the tether ball pole had been designated as “The May Pole.” With the ball removed for this special occasion, crepe paper streamers of all colors had been secured to the top. At the appointed time for our May Pole “dance” to begin, each of us, boys and girls alike, would choose and tightly grasp our favorite colored streamer and begin marching or skipping around the pole, until it was totally entwined with our bright and variegated paper strips. Although it was an incredibly simple activity, it was very enjoyable and meaningful for us, as children, to usher in the month of May!

My most cherished May Day activity, however, during this same era, involved a lot of planning and preparation, which included a huge investment of time by my mother. No sooner was the egg shell project completed, and we would once again be shopping at the same local Dime Store, this time buying one package of crepe paper in every color they stocked! We would also purchase the smallest paper cups we could find, plus a package of pipe cleaners, and, of course, more glue.

For the next few weeks, every night after supper, I would watch, spellbound, as my mother designed and constructed beautiful and dainty May Baskets, each one different from the other. She did this by cutting narrow bands of the various colored crepe paper into the shape of petals, gluing these strips around and around the trimmed-down, shortened version of the paper cups. Then, she would take her thumbs and pinch each crepe paper petal to make it puff outward, giving the entire circle of puffy petals the appearance of a flower. Next she would glue an even narrower strip of green crepe paper to the outer colored petals. These strips had been pre-cut to resemble fronds of grass or leaves.

The green crepe paper was also used to wrap around the pipe cleaners, giving them the likeness of a curved, green flower stem. The pipe cleaner stems were then fastened into the sides of the little paper cups, to serve as a handle for the tiny baskets. With no two baskets alike, and being so completely captivating and adorable, it was very difficult to decide which was my favorite, since I was allowed to keep one for myself.

The final step in this production took place on the evening of April 30th, as we generously filled each flower basket to the brim with small candy treats, which included pastel mints and salted peanuts. The next morning, May 1st, May Day to be exact, I had the long anticipated delight and satisfaction of imparting “our” works of art, distributing them bright and early before going off to school. As I secretly, and very quietly, delivered them to the front steps and porches of my special friends and elderly neighbors, I believed my mother’s May Baskets were the most magnificent and sought after in the world, and I still do!

These are but one more of the hand-made heirlooms I wish I would have kept for posterity to share with my family.

An Egg Carton Revisited

Springtime reminds me of several anecdotes from my childhood. One of my earliest memories is linked to the Easter Season, which involved sitting at the kitchen table to watch my mother cautiously puncture both ends of raw eggs with a sharp needle, perforating them just enough to allow the contents to be blown out, without cracking or destroying the shells! After emptying each one, she would set them safely back into the carton from which they came.

Before this whole process began, she had already been shopping and gathered her simple and inexpensive craft supplies from the local Dime Store (a store very much like our current Dollar Stores, but most items were no more than ten cents!) Her supplies consisted of a basic water color set, a few toothpicks, glue, scissors, and a couple of extra, empty, gray cardboard egg cartons.

The first step involved cutting out the empty carton's individual depressions, or craters, where the eggs had once nestled. These pieces were set aside to be used later for hats and pedestals-like stands. With everything in readiness, the project was about to begin, and I could hardly wait!

I would sit almost motionless, spellbound, practically afraid to breathe, as I watched mother repeatedly and fastidiously dip her tiny brush and toothpicks into the tin of paints, transforming each fragile, hollow shell into a delicate and whimsical face. There were blondes, brunettes, and redheads with blue eyes, brown eyes, and hazel! Even a few freckled-faces! How I loved watching her little eggshell creations emerge! This activity made Easter egg hunting pale in significance.

During the paint-drying process, she cleverly designed and decorated hats and stands, concocted from the carton craters she had cut and set aside earlier. After all of the faces and hairdos were thoroughly dry, she would gently, but securely, glue each delicate face into one of the awaiting cardboard stands. This added the effect of a little collar to each one. Then, to top them off, she would glue on a little hat for their crowning glory!

How I wish I would have preserved some of these charming, hand-made heirlooms to share with my family as a legacy from their Nana Erwin-Furrh.

A Septic Post Script

For those of you who might be wondering why we waited so long...nine months to be exact...to have our new septic system installed, the contractors could not begin the project until there was no rain for two consecutive weeks. Last year it rained relentlessly until the middle of June!

What A Differance A Year Makes!

Aahhhh…the intoxicating euphoria of a nice hot shower… the unadulterated bliss of flushing our toilets (more than once daily!)…with the accompanying toilet paper!…the calming contemplation of using our washing machine again…the sweet freedom of once more emptying our kitchen sink drains! These and other privileges are all things most of us take for granted…normal routines occurring in most American households every day. These simple pleasures came to a screeching halt in our household at the beginning of this year.

A year ago, at the end of September, during our scheduled pumping appointment, we were given the dreaded verdict…a failed septic! With the thought of two major holidays on the horizon, the disheartening decree sent us reeling in disbelief and denial. However, as we continued use into January, the reality of the diagnosis was confirmed, and we embarked on a nine month adventure of septic failure survival.

We became totally obsessed and preoccupied with prolonging what little life might be remaining in the system. Our phobia involved checking the septic hole in the backyard before and after flushes, my husband on guard in the bathroom in an attack stance, with plunger poised and ready for battle before each and every flick of the tank’s handle. Behind our closed doors, GI showers and other water conservation measures became ritualistic and compulsive!

Three months ago, June 20th, on a Tuesday evening, we were released from our captivity by Dobrich & Sons Septic Service and Thrifty Rooter, and we threw a long awaited celebration at our house in honor of our new septic system!! Mere words of “thanks” aren’t adequate to express our appreciation for their hard work and perseverance. We wish to commend Dobrich’s work ethic of honesty, reliability, and bid accuracy, as well as their courtesy and attentive respect for our questions, concerns, landscape and property throughout each phase of their work. This included staying late on the hottest and most challenging days to complete their job and clean up, leaving our grassless yard fastidiously raked, and our driveway meticulously swept and hosed Down.

Thank you Dobrich & Sons! You did a terrific job, and it is our pleasure to spread the good word and enthusiastically recommend you to anyone needing assistance in your area of expertise! You are number one in our book! Awesome!! When the going got tough, you kept going and finished the job against all odds, of which there were many. We don/t know whether we should be proud or humbled by the fact that our job gained the notoriety of placing in the top ten hardest jobs you’ve ever had!! We’re sure as you folded the “Cat’s” arms for the last time that day, you had an immense feeling of accomplishment. We did in your behalf! Thank you for a job filled with caring, concern for us, and a task well done.

Chicken, Anyone?

Last week at work I had the rare opportunity to meet a young patient’s father who is an employee of North State Rendering. This facility melts down all kinds of dead animals. When I inquired about the final destination of the disposal of the rendered items, the gentleman informed me most of it goes into chicken feed!!! Horrified, I asked him if his family ate chicken? He nonchalantly affirmed that they did!! Keep this nutritional nugget in mind the next time you’re tempted to stop for a visit at Colonel Sanders.

My Postscript to 9/11

May we learn to live each day as though it could be our last

2006 Insights from 9/11

Today, Monday, September 11th, 2006, our country, once again, memorialized one of the darkest days in America's history.

Today I was reminded, once again, that in living....beginning with birth....each of us will experience our own individual and personal dark days and cross the path of pain....some more than others.

Today I listened anew to the many opposing stories....stories of those who were gruesomely lost....and those who were miraculously spared.

Today I was reminded, once again, that it is only by the grace of God that any of us survive the circumstances and events, often unseen, in our everyday lives....allowing us more time to live out our purpose.

Today I was reminded, once again, that God, in His mercy, doesn't reveal to us glimpses of our future....those difficult, painful journeys ahead. It must be enough for us to know with certainty that our times are in His hands....That He will be with us in our future, as He is in our present.

Today, I was reminded, once again, to ask God for sensitivity and compassion toward all humanity....that there, but for the grace of God, go I.

In Remembrance of September 11, 2001

This is my invitation to you to join me on Monday, September 11th, in my 5th annual "911 Memorial Party" in my living room at home. It is a date I have been annually requesting off from work to prayerfully remember, contemplate and honor the lives of those that were lost, along with their families, friends, and co-workers five years ago. It is a day to reflect upon the changes in our freedoms we have so long taken for granted in this country. And this year, a day to acknowledge conclusive results of the Mount Sinai Medical Center's study of 16,000 of the 40,000 ground zero rescue and clean-up workers with the "World Trade Center cough." Construction workers, police, firefighters, and other volunteers who worked at the site, in the city morgue, or at a landfill where more than one million tons of trade center debris were hauled. Between September 11th to 13th, 2001, nearly 70 percent ot these workers toiled in the dust and fumes of asbestos, pulverized concrete, mercury, and other toxins that will leave them chronically sick for the rest of their lives.

So, join me this Monday, September 11th. This the only day of the year I take the liberty to remain guiltlessly, un-interruptedly glued to the "tube," to solemnly review and weigh the events, and their subsequent fall-out, from that one day of enormous history occurring during our lifetime....Tuesday, September 11th, 2001.

Easter Weekend 2006

This week-end millions of people all over the world will celebrate Easter. When I was growing up, Easter was one of the few Sunday’s my mother, brother, and I attended church. I vaguely remember one or two special outfits which were purchased for just the occasion!! Other memories include finding hidden colored hard boiled eggs, small white wicker baskets (lined with shiny fake grass from the dime store package) filled with chocolate bunnies and eggs and jelly beans. If time allowed, my clever, artistic mother would empty eggs by puncturing the ends with a sewing needle and blowing the contents out. Then she would transform these delicate empty shells into faces, painting on hair, eyes, noses, mouths, and ears! I adored these little egg “people.” Some of my really lucky friends even received live “Easter bunnies!!” I never was that lucky. As I got a little older, maybe 12 or 13, my girlfriends and I became curious about sunrise services, wondering what on earth could be worth crawling out of our delicious warm beds at that early hour?? (And, believe me, in Iowa at Easter, it is still cold at sunrise!!) Curiosity got the best of us, not to mention the fact that we wanted to be a part of more grown-up activities! I can still recall the miserable goose bumps on my bare legs, as I stood reverently outdoors with the (small) crowd, shivering in my flimsy spring dress, (in spite of my short wool jacket), and watching all of the tiny rhythmic cloud puffs exhaling from all of our mouths in that frosty air!! It was a welcome relief to return home and change into warmer clothes and thaw out, comforting myself with warm slices of buttered toast dipped in hot chocolate. I never did get the connection between “Easter” eggs and bunnies with Christ’s death and resurrection??
Thursday evening, Theo, Dad, and I attended a Passover Feast hosted by our hospital chaplains. It was interesting, educational, and meaningful, complete with symbolic, ceremonial foods. The menu consisted of matzo ball soup, small red potatoes, asparagus spears, and roasted “shank bone” (chicken at our dinner), which represented the lambs slain in Egypt and the Passover sacrifice in Temple times. Josephus records the number of lambs slain from 256,500 and later to be no fewer than 3 million!
At the beginning of the feast at least two candles on the Passover table are lit, representing the light of God's face shining upon us, and symbolizing the shekinah glory of God which appeared in the Tabernacle. One of the two candles is for observe, the other for remember, reminding the Jews God is not only their Creator, but also their Redeemer.
The dinner begins with a roasted egg (hard-boiled) in salt water. The egg represents the hardness of Pharoah's heart...the salt water symbolizes the tears of the Hebrew slaves under bondage of the Egyptian taskmasters.
The matzo, unleavened loaves, represent the bread which did not have time to rise that the Israelites took for sustenance on their journey out of Egypt. The unleavened bread, or matzo dough is flattened, and before it is baked, it is pierced and striped with a pointed tool to keep it from bubbling under the flame. The prophecy of Isaiah 53:5 declares: "He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed."
We were reminded that Jews all over the world celebrate this special family Passover dinner on Thursday evening, before Easter. Hope you all have a blessed Sabbath and week-end as we reflect upon Christ's sacrifice and victory in our behalf. Love to you all.