Red Fish, Blue Fish...

I'm really ready to move on. The hurt and anger are just a dull ache lately. And that's good. For you Johnny-come-lately's who haven't kept up with my blog, (for shame) this is the final installment (I promise) about lamenting over my 4 lousy bosses. Yes, I wrote 4. My work was a terrific mission. I can't really call it a job, it was more like a calling. Definitely not the last you'll hear about my little people. It was work that I loved, and was very good at it. Most of you know how I feel about elderly people. They have been close to my heart since I was a little girl.

 

A yearly luncheon held for the home bound and guests when I was Parish Visitor...

Bob & Nancy...

This special couple, one of many, have been part of my life for one reason or another in recent years. Many folks for years or longer than a decade. One lady, only a few minutes, some a few weeks or months. Each have made a lasting impression. God put them in my life for a specific reason. I have been immeasurably blessed by each and every one of them. Maybe one of the reasons is telling you a snippet of their story. Guess I won't know the reason until I ask Him. Hopefully that will be much, much later.

 

Bob and Nancy, hopelessly devoted. Around 2000...

Road trips...

I have been a collector of "stuff" most of my adult life. Not borderline hoarder, but getting close to needing an intervention to stop. Maybe a long term program to ease me slowly off that addicting "hunt" which usually concluded in the one piece to make my life complete. It took me many years of pretty intense collecting to realize I had acquired the inner fortitude to say quite honestly, "I need to think about this for awhile." Or the skills needed to just walk away from the deal completely. Couldn't and didn't do that 30 years ago.

 

My beautiful oak wardrobe. Only had it 20 some years...

Concert Junkies...

I chide myself for stuff I didn't do when I was younger. More often though about stuff I did and wish I hadn't. You're all familiar with many of those incidents and events because I declare ownership on all by putting them in print. Sometimes in excruciating detail. Ugh. One of my silliest regrets is that I didn't run away from home to attend some concerts as a teen. Three to be exact. How I wish I would have gone to see the Beatles, Doors, and Johnny Cash. Cash is a strange one for me since his music should not appeal to me. But it does and I love him. The first "real band" I saw in person were the Buckingham's. Lake Okoboji at the Roof Garden, about 1967. "Kind of a Drag."

 

Neese at Lake Okoboji. Roof Garden, John, Buckingham's, 1967...

Batter up...

It all started on our vacation trip to California back in 1961. Just Mom, Dad, and me, then 10 years old. Plus 2 paying passengers joining me in the backseat of our 1958 Canyon Pink, Chevy Biscayne. Sigh. A 2-door without air. Sigh. Our west coast relatives did their best to entertain and introduce us to new things. Knott's Berry Farm and Disneyland were fantastic. Swimming in the Pacific was chilly but unforgettable. They took us out for Chinese food. Mom would only eat the fortune cookies and drink the tea. For me, following her lead, it would mean another 2 decades before John literally forced me to try Chinese cuisine again. Guess what? I love it. But when the relatives took us to the newly transplanted L.A. Dodger's field for a baseball game against the Cubs, Mom discovered a new exciting pastime in her life.

 

Mom and Dad in California, 1961...

69's...

Oh the significance of the numbers 69 in my life! Some lasted several years, others were one-time events. First one. I'm from the class of 1969. You know that always used to have a recent sound to it. Lately it sounds kind of ancient. I don't feel ancient. It seems I might have slept through about 25 years. Or they zipped by in such a hurry, I didn't realize that they were already gone. Here's some memories of being part of the class of '69.

 

Holy spit-curls Batman! My kindergarten picture...