A New Roof

We have almost completed the new roof.  The angel agreed to do it and offered to pay the twins to help him.  The twins were thrilled at the idea of earning money, but had no idea how hard they would have to work to earn it.  I had a good idea how hard they would have to work but was thrilled for them to get the chance to learn a life skill from the very best.  They are almost 15 and as big as full grown men.

They started Friday morning and worked till dark.  By the end of the night they were so tired they could hardly lift their arms and had a hard time getting the energy to even take a shower and go to bed.  The third time I told my Oldest baby he better get to bed because he had another day ahead of him, he barely moved his lips, mumbling "I know, Mom, you don't have to keep telling me."

I said "You're right.  You did the work of a full grown man today, so that means you get to start making some of your own decisions."  It wasn't 5 minutes before he hauled himself up from the floor and headed to the bathroom, but I thought I detected a little swagger in his walk that hadn't been there before.

Saturday morning started early, and neither of the boys showed much energy or enthusiasm.  The angel showed no mercy, and kept them  moving, moving, moving.  The nice thing about doing a roof is that you can look at any moment and judge your progress.

I worked at picking up the stuff on the ground, moving it onto tarps, which the boys would then gather up, drag to the dump truck, take up a ladder about 10 feet in the air, and then dump into the truck.  This was the job they did when they were "caught up".  I tried to avoid them, as they tend to give me mournful looks that seem to say "I'm about to die, mom!"  When you take care of yourself and your property and do it right, you will spend days thinking this, but you have to just keep going.  You won't die unless God decides it's your time, this is one thing I have never doubted.

When it came time for them to carry the shingles onto the roof up the ladder, I made myself go to the other side of the house.  I can talk the tough talk very well.  Actually watching them do this tends to give me heart palpitations, though, to I just didn't watch.  I don't want to say it was harder on me than it was on them, because I know it wasn't.  It's just that it is painful for any mother to watch her children doing anything so hard and dangerous without worrying about falls.  Real men scoff at danger.  That's what I told myself.  They made it just fine, and ended the day just as tired as they were the first day, although with better tans and considerably more muscle tone.

During a break we were all sitting around, the twins hanging onto every word the angel spoke as usual.  At one point we were talking about how he had gotten to where he is in the world.  I told the boys that I wanted them to look at him, at his house (which is beautiful and maintained to excellence), at what he had (everything in proper working order and several rental houses), and think about where he had gotten in life.  Then I told him to tell them how he grew up.

This is a true American story.  He grew up on welfare, without even a loving family around him.  By the time he was 14 he was digging graves and maintaining cemeteries for money.  He learned how to feed himself, protect himself, and he learned that his reputation may be all he had, but that a good reputation was enough to ensure a sterling life if he was willing to put in the work.

He worked on the railroad for years, which was good money but had a cost because it took him away from his family.  He learned how to be a carpenter, plumb, wire, put in windows, everything it takes to maintain a house, and bought rental properties.  He kept his marriage together, missing only two weekends at home during the railroad years, no matter how far he had to drive to get home.  He is blessed with a wife who is a true partner and always willing to work with him, as opposed to a wife who contented herself with spending money to keep up with the Jones', if you know what I mean.

35 years later they have a family and a life where they do not have to worry overly much about debt or disaster, because they can take care of themselves.

He also told the boys that the reason he is so picky is because there are a lot of people out there who don't know what they are doing.  Added into that was the fact that when you are working for yourself you are well advised to make sure you do it right, because if you get a bad reputation you are sunk.  Not that you can't redeem a bad reputation, but it takes a long time and even extra work.  All the advertising in the world cannot bring in as much money as one good testimonial repeated 3 times.  If you do good work, word gets around.  That was why after working 14 hours he made them clean up their mess before they quit.  You can put it off, but it will just make more work in the end.

We are ready to put down shingles on the third day.  If you are not impressed by the fact that one 56 year old man and two 14 year old boys accomplished that in 2 days, I would lay money that you have never put on a new roof.

At the age the twins are now, I am so thankful that they have this guiding light in their lives.  It is hard to trust anyone with your children when you are a mother.  Even if it's someone who is like a brother to you and who you would trust with their lives.  Ironically, their father basically abandoning them has actually worked out for the best, thanks to a little help from my friends.  Well, a lot of help.  Help that I could not offer them, being a woman.  

Again I urge you to go outside, look around, and pick one of the children that you will undoubtedly find wandering around doing nothing, and get to know them.  Teach them what you can.  Listen to them.  Look into their eyes and get to know them.  Don't judge them by anything you think you might know about them, let them show you what they can be.  We can save the world this way, and you can never have too many kids who respect you.  Kids grow into adults very quickly, and we all have a stake in how they turn out.

Everybody starts out with a good reputation.  It's up to every individual to keep it.  Simple as that. 

....When You Least Expect It......

Expect it.  Isn't that the old fashioned advice?  Pure gold, as usual.

The many days of Thanksgiving were over, everyone had gone back home, the house was still relatively clean, and I was sound asleep in bed thinking I was "ready" to get back to work and get the boys back on a normal schedule with school.

Suddenly, I hear the shower start, which is normal, as my Oldest Baby takes his shower at night.  I registered the sound somewhere in my mind.....and it seemed somewhat louder than usual.  I was in that heavy sleep that you go into about an hour after you go to bed, and I pushed the wondering away, for about 9 seconds.

Next I heard cries for help coming from the bathroom.  This is not usual, and the shower still sounded really loud.

I hear my Youngest Baby rumbling up the steps and going into the bathroom, presumably to "help" his brother.  The next thing I heard was bickering between the two of them as to how the other one is doing things wrong, and still the water is running like crazy!  By now I am no longer in any kind of sleep.  Instead I am tearing myself from my warm, soft, quiet, heavenly bed and trying to make it to the door without killing myself.  It sounds like a freight train is in the bathroom, possibly running over at least one of my children, maybe both!  

I stumble into the bathroom and the scene that greeted me was, well it was crazy, but nothing you want to get up out of your deepest sleep for.

Water was shooting out of a hole where the hot water knob used to be and both boys are trying to stop it, one fully clothed, and the other one bent over double in the shower.  I ask what happened and they both start yelling at the same time, not because they were mad, but because they had to yell over the sound of the water shooting out of the hole like a fire hose (!) and hitting the back wall of the shower when it's not hitting my naked Oldest Baby and then splashing all over the bathroom.  He pivots toward me to yell his version of the story and I notice that he is still bent over double, and at this point it dawns on me that yes, he is naked, but he also 14 and in the "MY MOTHER MUST NOT SEE ME NAKED OR THE WORLD WILL END" stage, and so I dive for the hole and tell the boys to go turn off the water to the house.  They both leave.  To do what, I do not know because now it occurs to me that they don't know where the turn off to the water is.  I yell for help.  Water continues to shoot mostly down my arms and between the walls to the downstairs bathroom.  I must say, my bathroom floors have probably never been quite THIS clean before.....

And then I throw caution to the wind, throw the shower curtain as shut as I can get it as fast as I can, ( I am not at my best at 11:30 pm after an hour and a half of sleep, I freely admit) and run as fast as I can downstairs to turn off the water.

The silence was as welcome as it was deafening.

I drag myself back upstairs to find the twins looking for tools.  Yes, I laughed too.  In fact, I laughed for about 20 minutes solid, once my legs stopped shaking and I could be trusted to stomp on towels all over both bathroom floors.

Then I start wondering who to call about this.  Thank God for one of my Angels, who was even up at midnight.  AND returned my call.  If you do not have this worked out already, you need to make a list in your head of people you can call at midnight who will not only answer the phone but will answer the call!  This list should be added to periodically, I would say at least every 5 years, because as the years go by the list gets shorter;  people die, and the ones who don't get old too.  Don't let that happen.  You will pay for it in the end, or maybe sooner, and I can guarantee it will not happen at a convenient time.  We must be vigilant.

The next morning I scooped water out of the back of one of the stools, boiled it, and set up a little station by the kitchen sink.  We washed our hair (sort of), our faces, and brushed our teeth.  We felt like pioneers.  Or prison inmates.  Prison inmates and at privately run prison, not those fancy places that have the computers and spa days.  You get the picture.

So, this was Monday after a week's vacation.

It was quite a week.

Going back to work was a piece of cake, if you know what I mean. 

Summer and Angels

This year we got to have a real summer.  The kids were home.  All the time.  There were no schedules to keep except one kid had to go to lifting, and he didn't complain about getting up early.  There were late nights, late mornings, and lots of sleeping over.  I told the boys to enjoy it because it would probably be the last time it would happen in their lifetimes.  This was not a joke.  Next year they are going to need jobs so that they will be able to buy a car because NEXT year they will turn 15.  That does not seem possible but I am sure it is correct, as I have been keeping careful count.

I now have to look up at them.  Sigh..........  Oh well, they are growing into men.

The one who signed up for football quit.  Without telling me first.

Then the one who signed up and quit within the first week called the coach (encouraged by friends) and decided to play.  Without telling me first.

THEN, when I pointed out that he, in particular, would also jump off a bridge if encouraged by these same friends, and that I was tired of being left out of decisions, and that we would not keep jumping on and off this or any other merry-go-round.  We are not that kind of people.

Then he said "OK, I'll tell coach tomorrow my mom doesn't want me to play".

Yes, he said that.  Which led to a long speech about how it is not "manly" to dart around with the attention span and commitment of a mosquito deciding stuff and TELLING PEOPLE, and then blaming it all on your mother when it isn't going to work out.  This speech emphasized personal responsibility and looking at situations from different angles.

These were not new concepts.  In fact, I would say they are very familiar, but maybe that's because I'm always the one to give the presentation.

It's been a long week.

Fortunately, I have a couple of angels who just love boys (and dogs) and have hired the two of them to do some dirty work around the house.  The Grand Finale adore this couple to begin with, but the secret ingredient is that the male half of this couple has absolutely no qualms about me vetoing any decision he would make concerning my kids.  He has helped me raise the older two also, but they had a father who was involved and I never needed any help with them.  With the Grand Finale he is stepping into the role of mentor and I can only thank God for him and his wife every night.

With the Mentor, the boys are tougher.  They do not bother to offer up paltry excuses like the do with me, their mother, and I suspect would with any other woman.  They swagger a little around him, they jump to be useful to him in any way regardless of how hard, dangerous or dirty it promises to be.  They think he is 10 feet tall and bullet proof.  I have always thought of him the same way, to tell you the truth, but then I have had good reason.  He's been in charge of all my home repair for 20 years, and it was he who pointed out that I was going to have trouble with teenage boys clear back when I was in the "my sweet boy....." stage.  He's a man who gets 'er done and done right the first time.  He's been my friend for decades, just a little bit older, just a little bit smarter, just a little bit more experienced.  He is brutally honest and does not worry about sparing my feelings if it's important.  I cannot tell you the times he has given the "the look" that asks "What are doing?  You know that's not right.  Don't think I'm going to excuse you for this."  One time I got that look over the little doohickey that locks a window being broke.  He just fixed it, and I have to say at that moment was the first time I thought to myself "I have fallen down on the job.  I have to get back to it even if I do not personally care anymore whether the window locks are broken."  He can make me feel bad just like my mom always could.  I do not resent him for it, I only wish we could clone him.  The world could use more of him and he has already influenced many children, mine are just the latest two.  He and his wife are the kind of unsung hero's that America is known for and made up of.  They don't think they are hero's.  They just live their lives but they try to do things right and they help other people do the same.

He has given my boys the confidence to take charge and take care of things.  I no longer carry in groceries, let alone dog food in 40 lb. bags.  I haven't opened a door if accompanied by one of the boys for months.  I was on my way to pick them up from working last night when the female angel called, reported on how good a job they had done, told me they were having fun swimming right then, and that she was warming them up some chili because they "looked hungry" and then would bring them home.  I was to do whatever I was busy with at home and enjoy my time.  I thanked God right there while I was still shaking my head in wonder.  The Grand Finale came home a while later, dirty, dripping and whistling.  Just like men who had earned a honest wage.

Now, I ask you.........do you believe that there really are angels among us?

I do.  I have proof of this kind in myriad ways throughout my life, and it seems that this is the basic reason for this blog.  Blogging is difficult because you are always trying to keep details back while giving the correct impression without them.

Who has been an angel to you?  More importantly, who have you been an angel to?

Grave Hoppin'

I grew up going to cemetaries.  When I was little, my grandmother would cut peonies, stack them with layers of wet newpapers in the trunk of the car, and away we would go to decorate graves.  There was rarely ever anyone else there and as we distributed flowers, my grandmother would tell stories about the people whose gravestones we knew.  In a small town this can be quite a lesson, and geneology as well as  history were absorbed as naturally as bedtime stories for me.  Get more than two people of a certain age together at a cemetary, and you will be amazed and delighted at the stories you will hear.

I loved the different stones, calculated how long the surviving spouse spent without their mate, witnessed the babies born who did not survive, and marveled at what their lives would have been like.

I still do.

 It was always a favorite way to spend an afternoon with my mother's family.  Many is the time I have picked up the phone only to have a relative say "Want to go grave-hoppin'?".  It's a little joke, as opposed to "bar-hoppin".  The answer was always yes.  It still is, and I love to go by myself too.  If I'm alone and I pass a cemetary I most usually stop. 

Here are just some pictures I took when I got the new camera, but I have always loved this angel.  She presides at the Catholic Cemetary here in town.  Angels and crosses dominate this cemetary.

Across the road is the city cemetary. Parts of it are very old.  Of course, they are my favorite.  This cemetary also has some angels, crosses, and also little bell shaped tops on the stones.  I do not know what the bell shaped tops mean.  My favorite stones of all are the Woodmen of the World stones, and we have many in the city cemetary.  Here are some from this batch.  I have many more of these taken at many cemetaries, and am saving those for a post just about them.  It is a wonderful story and you should look it up.  If you have never noticed these before you must have not been paying attention, they are immediately recognizable but also have unique features. 

This one I took just for the old tree.  It's in the oldest part of the cemetary and one of my favorite scenes there.

Guardian Angels

I am continually amazed at the "help" I get from what seems like the oddest places.  I think everyone gets help like this, the trick is just to notice sometimes.

Whether you actually believe in Guardian Angels or not, I believe angels are everywhere.  Not necessarily the kind with wings that shine with a light and speak for God, although that wouldn't really surprise me too much anymore.  In fact, I have to wonder if I would consider that more or less odd than those people I saw the other night on TV with split tongues and plastic ....additions?  things.....implanted under their skin to make them look like lizards and stuff.  If you did that to someone else, what do you suppose the charge would be?  I'm pretty sure it would land you in prison. But these people wanted to do that to themselves.  Which is their right in this country.  Ok, now I'm wandering again.  Back to Angels, who, if I know God, will put one of those lizard-people in place to help me with something next week.  He does that to me all the time. I'm pretty sure I'm currently supposed to be learning "humble".  Don't ask me if that was a joke.  It was and it wasn't.  Just stay tuned and mark my words.  It's happened to me MANY times. Now back to Angels.

It can be a random person holding a door for you when you are struggling to get into a store with a couple of infants.  In seats.  That weigh about 25 lbs. each.  Maybe more.  It always seems like more if it's raining.  Or dark.

It can be the supporting squeeze on the shoulder from the person behind you (whom you may or may not know)when you are in line at Wal Mart and you have two toddlers who decide to have simultaneous melt downs and you are 4th in line for the checkout. 

It can be someone who offers you a job, sets you up on a date that works out ( I freely admit this is more rare), or moves in next to you.

It can even be a sales clerk who intercedes between a mother and a teenage daughter and saves someones eyes from rolling right out of their joints.

You may not believe this, but it can even be someone who breaks your heart or betrays you in a way you think you will never get over.
Yes, it can!

Case in point:  I have a real life Guardian Angel right here on earth.  This person has been in my life for decades and has time and time again treated me like a child/sister/daughter in a way---and this is key for me with my pride and all----in which I have never been embarrassed or tried to resist.  And might I add, they have never steered me wrong.  Their concern has only ever been for my own best interests. 

My angel is.... how can I put this.... used to being obeyed/in charge and has a way of taking control of situations, so that it seems as if it's the most natural thing in the world to.........obey.   There are very few people in this world for whom I will fall into line.  But this Angel makes falling into line feel like the most natural thing in the world.  They have a gift.

So, today I mention to the Angel that I have signed up for a self defense course tomorrow and will happily spend the day blowing some stuff to Kingdom Come!  The Angel immediately draws a  pistol out of their pocket and asks if I want to take that.  Yeah, you read that right.  No self consciousness at all in just pulling out a gun at the drop of a hat.  I have gotten used to this over the years.  It used to make me want to shut doors and "hide the evidence", so to speak, and act in all manner of suspicious ways.  But not now.  I've come a long way, baby.

"No, it's too short, I need a longer stock so my wrists don't ache".

So the Angel says "Come by the house and I'll get you some more to pick from".  I go to said house and am treated to a small collection of lovely firearms, (all legally registered), and a little practice session with the one I pick.  9mm all the way,  Because I'm worth it.  (I hope you are getting a kick out of my using phrases taken from products usually marketed to women here, because I think it's hilariously ironic.  Cigarettes and hair color, respectively.  If women listened to advertising they would indeed be lost, no?  We lose a lot of the good ones that way.)

This gun is light, has smooth action, and doesn't make my wrists ache at all.  Believe it or not, when you get older your wrists are going to betray you, honey.  In all the worst ways.  Mine have lost their strength and ache all the time to boot.  WHICH is why it's important not to pick a gun too quickly.  And to take Aleve every day.

Listen to me.  You will need to know all this information sooner or later.  It will happen to you.  When it does, I expect you to be able to defend yourself and your children.  There will be none of this standing around crying waiting to be rescued for my readers, understand?  That scenario is not for us.  If that is your plan, you need to get with the program or find yourself some other blog to read.  Please.  I cannot abide whining.  There really is no reason for it and it is *very* unattractive.  Don't do it.  Just say no.  (Not a product marketed to women, but an equally useless and expensive program that they used a woman to promote.  Poor Nancy.  She should have pointed a gun at their head and just said "no".  Very politely, of course.  You would be surprised how much easier it is be to be very polite when you are holding a gun.)

Be ready with the knowledge that you are equal to the task.  Get a gun and get to know it.  Know it so well you get used to feeling secure when you are lost in bad neighborhoods late at night after you took a wrong turn.  Can you imagine this?  It can be you.  It will be me.  

Wish me luck!  Me and 99 other women are going to train to make the world a safer place today.  I cannot wait! 

This is just the latest way my Angel has guided me.

What about you?  Have you seen any Angels lately?