Each Unique Day

Shirleyjdietz4 Comments

I expect to pass through this world but once;

any good thing therefore that I can do, or any

kindness that I can show to any fellow-creature,

let me do it now; let me not defer or neglect it,

for I shall not pass this way again.

Stephen Grellet

Every day, good or bad, is unique and should be appreciated as such. There will never be another one exactly like it.

I awoke last Sunday morning, wondering what had roused me when it was still so dark, I realized that it was cold. That was not so unusual, but it shouldn’t have been the case. The RV that has become my room at Gwennie Ru’s farm cools off quickly at night so I leave the propane furnace turned on. Clearly it had not been running and it was 55 degrees.

But I soon realized that it was not the cold that was bothering me. I could hear a sound, a lot like a child crying, and it was repeating again and again. I had never heard it before, and it was disturbing. I put on shoes and a sweatshirt over my pajamas, hunted up a flashlight, and went outside to investigate.

It was Heidi, the goat. My RV is parked near the barn where Heidi has a stall. She is a small animal and was perched up where she could look out at me. She looked fine, was not tangled in anything, and had sufficient food and water. Yet, she kept calling, or crying, I’m not sure which.

I spent the next hour listening to her while I read my furnace manual from front to back. I understood very little of it, but one instruction stood out as being reasonable. Turn off the thermostat and reboot. I pass myself off as a genius with all sorts of devices by turning off and rebooting.

By the time I had learned about furnace “lock out” and done all my rebooting, I was late getting ready for church. I didn’t feel like hurrying and told Kevin and Julie I would come later by myself. This resulted in our family taking three cars for the half hour journey. Julia took her work vehicle because she was on call. She barely has room for Gwennie’s car seat in there. Kevin drove the family car and had Felix, the German exchange student, with him.

On my way, in my car, I considered the uniqueness of my morning. Being awakened by a bleating goat was so unusual. Learning about furnace lock out was interesting. And if those things weren’t enough, I looked up and saw a sign that I had never noticed before even though I had driven the road many times. That section of highway was maintained by the Doodle Cooke family. I had been clueless. Doodle Cooke. Too good to be true.

The rest of the day continued to be a marvel of experiences. Going to three different Walmart locations in one day, eating at the BEST hamburger restaurant in the U.S. (or so they claim), bottle feeding Gwennie Ru in the parking lot of Trader Joe’s, seeing Felix’s new, bright fuschia, gym shoes, traveling in our 3 car caravan back to Riverbend Farm.

Is this really the best burger? It was good…
Gwennie Ru, enjoying her time at Hops Burger

Once I start taking notice with an attitude of being thankful, each day seems a bit more special, and definitely unique. It’s good to be here, no matter where I am.

P.S. I have started taking Heidi outside to graze on the green grass and clover. I think she likes it.

Working in Gwennie Ru’s Orchard

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment
Today, on her day “off” from work, Julia is pulling weeds in the orchard.
I was out early pulling weeds too. Then Julia brought her truck with this lovely mulch to spread around the young trees.
She also brought the supervisor, who promptly fell asleep.
We hauled and spread, straightened fencing and did our best to frustrate the fire ants.
A dozen trees set free from weeds and two tired (and sweaty, dirty) people who are glad to have the job nearly done.
Gwennie Ru spending time in her orchard.

Gwennie Ru and the Magic Sleep Suit

Shirleyjdietz2 Comments

One morning last week I came to do granny’s day care with Gwennie and daddy Kevin met me at the bedroom door.

“We had a great night! We put her in this sleep suit and it worked like magic. She only woke up once!”

Well, I could hardly wait to see what on earth a sleep suit could be.

Sure enough, Gwennie was asleep, and it most certainly was a suit that she was wearing. She looked like an astronaut, minus the helmet. She was lying on her back in this puffy yellow fleece coverall with zippers coming up both sides. Her arms were stretched out wide on either side and the thickness of the suit kept her from bending them very much. The lower part of the suit was bulging around the abdomen with two tubes out the bottom for her legs – lots of room for moving around. She looked very warm and cozy. I am very much in favor of keeping babies warm.

That’s kind of ingenious, I thought. A cross between an incubator and a straitjacket. Normally, when Gwennie Ru rouses from sleep, or is startled by noise, she starts jerking her arms around, hitting herself in the face and rubbing at her eyes and ears. That wakes her up for sure. This suit gently holds her arms out but still gives her some room to move inside the sleeve. And the same with the legs. I watched as she fussed a little, gave up, and went back to sleep.

Ingenious. I kind of want one.

In my size.

Most of the time her legs aren’t even in the leg compartments.

Life at Gwennie Ru’s House

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

Gwennie Ru, my new granddaughter lives in North Carolina with her mom Julia, and dad Kevin.

One late evening at the supper table, my daughter Julia said “Oh, by the way, there wasn’t anyone signed up for bringing a meal to youth meeting this week so I signed up.” This was the night before the meeting and my eyes went wide. I might have said something like “and how is this going to work out?” I knew that Julia and Kevin both had to work all the next day, and I also have a problem keeping my mouth shut. But, no one seemed overly concerned, and Julia got up from the table and went to Dollar General (at 8:30 pm) for spaghetti supplies for 30 hungry kids.

The next morning I came over to do granny daycare duties and saw that the table was loaded with french bread, linguini noodles and sauce in jars. Hmm…

Gwennie Ru took her bottle and an hour or so later was sleeping in her bassinet. I went out to the kitchen to say good morning to Kevin, who works at home, and found him in the kitchen. He was cooking noodles and trying to get ready for a conference call at the same time. I thought he looked a little tense.

He had opened all seven packages of linguini and put them in a pot of water, which was starting to boil. But who could really tell since the pot was so full that it couldn’t be stirred? It was hard to even put a spoon in it to try to stir.

I am not a wonderful cook and generally have very little advice to give on the subject but this was clearly a disaster in the making. “Kevin, this is not going well. Seriously, you need help.”

“Are you offering?” Hope sprang up in him. I could feel it.

“I guess I am.” I nodded.

And with that he went, rather quickly I thought, over to his desk and a couple minutes later was on his call.

Honestly, I could not move the noodles around in the pot at all and decided that the first needed thing was more space, and the second was more water. I found another large pot and filled it with hot water from the tap and set it on the stove. I began lifting clumps of linguini out of one pot and into the other.

I suppose many people my age know that as kids we used to make glue out of flour and water, right? Those are the basic ingredients of noodles as well and, unstirred, they pretty much glue themselves together in large clumps. The process was well underway.

I took out what I estimated to be about half of the noodles, and tried again to stir the pot. Now there was room for more water so I added that as well. I thought I was making good progress and the added water had cooled down whatever was taking place in the pot. The second pot was going considerably slower than the first and was not a worry.

What was a worry was thinking about where all the noodles were going to go at some soon approaching time. I don’t know about you, but I always think I’m not cooking enough spaghetti. When they’re dry, the noodles look so little and thin, so you throw in a few more and end up with spaghetti for a week. Think for a minute about seven packages of noodles… Okay, that’s long enough.

Although fairly unfamiliar with Julia’s kitchen, I found several large colanders and set them in the sink. I didn’t run, but walked fast to the basement where there were some large foil catering pans in storage. By this time I figured the first pot might be done cooking and need to be tested. I tasted them, and these were done but might have had a slight burned flavor? It wasn’t bad, so in spite of a few dark noodles coming to the surface now and then, I gave them the green light and poured them into the two colanders and started rinsing. While not always necessary, in this case rinsing was needed.

The majority of the noodles were fine, although I had to cut out clumps that had welded together and refused to separate. I had to do a little surgery getting the final layer out of the pot too, leaving the parts that were stuck to the pot. I split the burn flavored ones between the two pans and lubricated them with olive oil and a large jar of sauce. I repeated the process with the second pot of noodles which were not burned, so each pan had both flavors to kind of keep people guessing. More sauce, parmesan cheese, and voila, spaghetti dinner for 30!!

Julia came home early from work and took the spaghetti and bread down to the church to be heated and consumed. For her, it was another night away from home until 8 pm. As it turned out, there was nearly a full pan of leftovers for us to eat – see what I told you about having spaghetti for a week? It happened. Thankfully, a miracle occurred somewhere in there and it actually tasted pretty good. It’s just another story of crazy blessedness at Gwennie Ru’s house…

What I Learned about Love and Walks in the Woods

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

Still a part of my new life as a widow and a grandma in the making…

Esther and I were enjoying our time in North Carolina, the second day after her arrival. When we get together, Esther often brings me some piece of clothing that she thinks I would like. This time I was gifted with a nice cotton dress, the kind of dress that should be worn often and enjoyed, so I was wearing it on this day and feeling quite comfortable in a fun, old fashioned way.

Gwennie Ru and I went on a walk, as was our new custom. This time I stayed on the paths that were not difficult to negotiate while wearing the dress, that was just a bit above my ankles. It was easy to check my legs for wood ticks, and there were none after the walk. But, strangely, there was a bite that looked and felt like a tick bite. I was bothered all night, wondering where the tick might be. Every little sensation, anywhere, had me searching all over again. If you’ve ever lived in wood tick country, you know what I’m saying.

The next day the four of us girls started on our trip to Pennsylvania. It was a rainy day with tropical storm Ophelia. The night before, I had seriously thought about cancelling. I could imagine having an accident on the way and risking all of us, Dennis’s whole family, being wiped out on the way to his memorial. But, I’m not superstitious about my worrisome thoughts, and it didn’t seem like a message from God either. Morning came and gave us a break long enough to load the car and set out. Of course, I prayed for safety and then began the drive. I was concentrating on the road all day and didn’t think about bug bites, or itching.

We arrived at our destination and were getting ready for bed that night when I realized there were bites all over my legs and midriff. All over, and they were inflamed, and they itched. They were not wood tick bites, they were chiggers. I had heard of them, but never experienced the misery. I spent the next two days taking Benadryl every four hours just to get through the weekend. I am rethinking going on walks down by the river, in a dress. Just so you know, there were no bug bites on my grandbaby.

Thankfully, nothing was able to ruin the time together with the Pennsylvania family. The memorial was a chance to reconnect with them and strengthen family bonds. We talked and remembered things about Dennis and his growing up years that made him who he was. I saw my children and their cousins coming to appreciate each other and their life experiences. I enjoyed the same welcoming spirit and comforting love from Dennis’s brother and sister and their families that I had always felt. I realized that I had let some of that lie untended and forgotten.

The truth is that with any love, for myself, for others, or for God, doing with intention is necessary. Even though I may not have told love to die, it will up and do so all by itself, unless I tend to it. Time goes by and the distance created becomes more tolerable. I can forget how special it is to love and to be loved. That is a sad position to be in.

Now, we are safely back in North Carolina. My bug bites have healed. I am sticking to safer paths for the time being, no matter what I’m wearing. And I am seriously thinking about how the next Dietz reunion might look. The weekend had some valuable results, just sayin’…

The cousins, and Gwennie

Becoming Grandma: Time Goes On

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

Day 11

It is becoming clear that this time in North Carolina will not be a daily posting opportunity. The time is going by so quickly, and the schedule is… well, there is no schedule. Instead, I’m going to record stories the way I remember them. After this, no more numbering the days.

Last week was a whirlwind of activity. On Wednesday Julia had a day off work, so we packed up Gwennie Ru and did a shopping trip. She slept in her car seat, even as we were in and out of stores.

My other event of the day was driving an hour away to Raleigh to pick up Esther at the airport. We had planned to both be here in NC for a couple of reasons. One, we were going to attend an additional memorial service for Dennis, my husband, in Pennsylvania. We planned to have a girl’s road trip with three generations in the car – me (the aged one), Julia and Esther (the middles) and Gwennie Ru. This service was for the Pennsylvania relatives and friends who were unable to attend the service in July. It was also for Julia, since she hadn’t been able to travel then either. More about that later.

The following day, I hadn’t even dried off from my shower when Julia called. She and Gwennie Ru had been having some symptoms of a cold and she was worried about the way Gwennie kept rubbing her ears. She wanted to make sure there was no ear infection going on before we went on our PA trip. She had been able to get an appointment with the pediatrician. Could I get Gwennie there in an hour or so?

So you may be thinking, what’s the big deal about that? And that was what I told myself to quell those sneaky little twinges of panic that leapt up from who knows where. I can take someone’s precious newborn in my car and drive half an hour through an unfamiliar city and present her, with the correct information, to an unknown band of professionals. No sweat.

And that’s what happened. We got through the trip, two short feedings, a dirty diaper, and exams by an intern and a doctor. Gwennie was well behaved and had perfectly fine ears. Truly, this is why I start every day in prayer, asking for help with unexpected tasks, and end every day grateful to God who understands and hears.

Gwennie having some Auntie time with Esther

Becoming Grandma: Day 2

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment
The beautiful, green Haw River

Day #2

Maybe it’s just me, but it seems like Gwennie Ru needs a person pretty much dedicated to her, without too much else to do. I did just go outside and water some flowers and empty the garbage, but to do something like writing, something requiring thought as well as time, is really hard.

This morning we took another walk along the Haw River that borders the property. Some of the trails have been recently mowed, others not so much. I took one of the “not so much” trails today and found a couple wood ticks when I got back. I lost one of them somewhere in the bedroom and ended up vacuuming the whole room, hoping to get rid of it. I should probably think more about where I go with my precious bundle, but it’s been so nice to be able to walk while I’m here. It’s almost a sure way to get Gwennie to quiet down and wait for the next thing scheduled to happen.

Today I dressed her in a short sleeve onesie and some long pants to cover her legs on our walk. I put socks on her too because it always feels like her feet are cold. She has no extra fat anywhere to keep her warm and padded. She has SO MANY CLOTHES. I would be surprised if she gets to wear all her outfits before she grows out of them. A lot of them are handed down from friends and relatives. Her mama doesn’t know how to say no to anyone, especially when everything is so cute.

This morning it was 54 degrees in my RV and that was fine when I was under the covers, but pretty chilly when I wasn’t. I learned how to light the furnace – my one accomplishment before grandma duties began.

My spiritual reflection for today came while looking down at Gwennie’s little face as she slept. How easy and compelling it is to love someone who is so helpless and dependent. That condition is part of why I love her. I want to guard her, meet her needs, teach her to live safely in the world and let her know she is valued and loved. Duh, lightbulb moment… that is why God created us to be able to have parenting experiences. He wanted us to have that feeling toward helpless children in our care, because that is exactly what we are to him. And that is how he feels toward us. It is such a rich blessing to be created in the image of a loving God.

An eerie looking stump along the path

Becoming Grandma

Shirleyjdietz3 Comments

These posts may be less carefully edited because the baby does not sleep very long.

My last visit to North Carolina, Riverbend Farm, was for the birth of Gwendolyn Ruth Shanahan on July 24, 2023. Unfortunately, I got sick and missed the main event almost entirely. I stayed only three weeks and then went home to recover.

I arrived again on September 16. This time I am devoted to figuring out some of this “Grandma business”. It sounds like something that should be simple – you become a grandma when your grandchild is born. I have a feeling there’s more to it than that.

The timing of this visit is because Gwennie got baptized the day after I arrived. In this case, the terms baptism and dedication are interchangeable, in my mind. She will make her own decision about believing and choosing to follow Jesus someday, but this was a decision by her parents and church family, to raise her in full knowledge of that path. I loved being there and making my own promise to show her God’s love. Of course, water was involved, but she behaved well as it was poured on her little head.

Day #1 Grandma Daycare

Gwennie Ru is very small, not yet two months old, and I know that it will take some time for me to recognize her personality. Today was my first day doing her care while Mommy went to work. We hung out together all day and I’m still not sure who she is. But I now know that she gets hungry every three hours and is intelligent enough to get bored quickly when awake. I have heard her cry “bloody murder” when trapped for hours in her car seat, but in the course of a normal day she doesn’t cry loudly or often. She fusses and makes funny faces. She can be coaxed into a nap easily and I’m getting good at that.

After I figured out how to get her pack fastened on me, and then how to get her in it, we took three walks around the farm. I got over 14,000 steps. I’m teaching her to pray with me while we walk.

It was only a small bowl of water and much of it went on Daddy’s sleeve.

So Many Questions

ShirleyjdietzLeave a comment

Today I am doing some reading in the book of Judges, in the Holy Bible. I love scripture and believe it is one way in which God tells us things we need to know, so don’t get me wrong when I say that it quite often confuses me. I read it anyway, for the parts that aren’t confusing.

There is the story of Samson mid way through this book. He was an Israelite during a time when the country was being persecuted by another tribe of people, the Philistines. God used him to provide some relief for Israel. Even though he did some very dumb things, overall, he paid the Philistines back for all their evil deeds.

One of his early accomplishments was burning down a good many of the Philistines fields of grain. He went to a lot of work to do this, and this is where my questions start overwhelming me.

“So he went out and caught three hundred foxes.” I stop reading and can’t go any further. Three hundred foxes? How do you “catch” a fox? Where do you find 300 of them? Are they just everywhere, like rabbits? Where do you keep them while you’re catching them? Does no one notice when you finally get 300 and have them in your barn, or wherever? No one complains, not even your parents?

“He then fastened a torch to every pair of tails, lit the torches and let the foxes loose in the standing grain of the Philistines.” Wow, I try to think how I would orchestrate a project like this. Would I take two foxes at a time to a field? How would I get them to stand still while I tied a torch between their tails? What would I tie them with? Should I muzzle them while I’m doing the prep, probably…

Or do I tie all their tails together with torches attached while I’m still at home, and then transport them all at once? In my fox wagon. Once I start, I’ll probably have to do it quickly or someone will try to stop me.

My only conclusion is that this project would take a good deal of prayer first, but I don’t think Samson did that. He apparently was a bit of a hot head.

The most telling statement about this story is found early in the narrative, and is in parenthesis. “(His parents did not know this was from the Lord, who was seeking an occasion to confront the Philistines; for at that time they were ruling over Israel.)” There you have it. Miraculous intervention. There’s no other explanation that I can think of.

The way I see it, there is a principle involved in today’s reading. For me, it is – when something is “of the Lord” you might not see it coming. God, who invented imagination in the first place, is still way better at it than any of us.

Where Am I to Sleep?

Shirleyjdietz3 Comments

That was the question in my mind as I traveled south to be with my daughter’s family for a few weeks. And not just to sleep, but to lay out my suitcase, charge my computer, and all the other things that people do when they live someplace. I have stuff with me. Where am I going to put it?

River Bend Farm has a large farmhouse with four bedrooms. However, the rooms are occupied with Julia’s three stepchildren, and of course, Julia and husband Kevin. They don’t even have a designated spot for the baby when she comes.

My plan was to look for something portable, like a camper trailer, and to do it as soon as possible after arriving. During the first week, while I was borrowing one of the children’s rooms, I started looking on Facebook marketplace for used campers. Having never owned an RV of any kind I knew nothing.

I looked at little, cute and retro. But there wasn’t even room to set my suitcase. I looked at large and roomy but it was 16 years old and I wasn’t sure I could handle that much brown in my living space. I was saved from further deliberation when my son-in-law said a friend had a nice later model camper and was willing to sell it underpriced, as a personal favor. It had space for 10 people to sleep, which was a little frightening, but we went to see it. I now own it and have jumped on the learning curve of RV life.

Quibble

I have named it Quibble (model 295QBLE). It came none too soon. I got sick and needed a place to retreat and quarantine. It came home with Kevin and I the same day we went to see it. He parked it close to the barn where there was an electrical outlet. That’s when I learned that you have to be somewhat of an electrician (which I am not) to match your electricity with your camper. Even after watching a You Tube video on amps, volts and watts, the thought of having to figure out that equation for every one of my devices was too much. Kevin kindly drove to town and got adapters, so I could run the AC. That was enough for one night.

You also have to be somewhat of a plumber (sorry, also not) to feel peaceful about your faucets, toilets, water and pumps. Kevin and I finally got a small stream of water to run into the kitchen sink by hooking a hose up to a hole labeled “city water”, no city anywhere close. But who knew that I needed a drinking water hose, a water filter and a pressure regulator. Not me. My water pump, which shouldn’t have been turned on at all, was supposed to be whisper quiet. It started making enough noise that I could hear it even above the AC unit. I may have made it permanently very quiet. I have watched videos on water, gray water, and black water. Even I could figure out what those were.

One day I figured out the refrigerator. The next day I got a ladder and gave Quibble a good washing. Yesterday I drove back to meet the previous owner and got the title transferred and notarized. Today I tried to figure out insurance and registration. And in the days ahead I will learn about the stove and the propane tanks and the outdoor kitchen, and why the lights in the slide out don’t work. There are YouTube videos about all these things. I am discovering a whole new world of fun things to do.

But now I have my space. I almost feel guilty retreating to my air conditioned fiberglass box

Out by the barn, where I belong.