Mowing by Osmosis

Growing up, I was expected to help out around the house.  I never got an allowance or was paid to do those jobs, but incurring the disappointment of Mom by not doing them or doing them not to her expectations was not a good thing.  Typically resulted in completely redoing the chore or a really good chewing out. Being a single mom most of her Mom years, meant she needed help and I needed to learn these things. I wasn't always the brightest star in the sky.

  Webster's Dictionary defines Osmosis as this: :  a process of absorption or diffusion suggestive of the flow of osmotic action; especially :  a usually effortless often unconscious assimilation 

Smart Tutor states: “Learning through osmosis” is an analogy for natural, organic and  indirect way of learning. To learn through osmosis means to learn by immersion an exposure. For example, children learn their family’s native language through osmosis.

So if you want your child to learn something, immerse them as much as possible in whatever it is as a way of learning seamlessly. Learning a language is a prime example of this, however it can apply to anything, through a gradual, unconscious process... You never know what they will pick up and what connections they will make."  

While I do agree that kids pick up on things they have observed, some things just need to be outright taught.  As a mom, I understand this completely. It's the countless hours of doing and folding laundry, vacuuming and moping the floors, putting away dishes, brushing their teeth, making their beds, driving to them to various functions and so much more.  You think they would observe you doing these things daily, but these are things we've had to teach our kids. Sometimes, they pick up on things we never knew they were observing, and it befuddles us. 

Mom, brother, and myself (at the wheel)

Every time I help Honey mow the yard,  I am reminded of my mom.  In fact, I remember the first time I was allowed to use the riding mower and it was not good.  My mom had mowed the yard hundreds of times, but I didn't sit there observing her while taking notes.  That's where she went wrong.  That red Snapper mower was a work horse, but the secret to a nicely mowed yard and making it work efficiently was due to my mom's persistence to details and taking care of her equipment.  I remember standing by her side as she showed me how to clean the under carriage of the mower, scraping off all the moist grass and dirt, hosing it down with a strong stream of water, and leaving it clean and ready to go the next time.  She showed me how to add gas, oil, check the spark plugs,  lower the mower deck, etc, but I not ever remember her teaching me specifically how to mow the yard.  

similar to my first mowing

Disaster in the making. We had over 10 acres to mow of our yard, grandma's yard, and pastures, and she couldn't do it by herself.  She told me what section to start on, made sure the deck height was just right, told me to stay on speed 3, and walked off.  I wonder if she watched from a distance or just hoped I was listening.  It was pretty fun and I thought I was doing pretty good until I heard her yelling at me while waving her arms.  Her face conveyed she was pretty upset and I had no clue.  Did you know that you're not supposed to mow your name in the yard, do great spiral designs, and not run over her favorite blooming flowers?  Yep, I told you it was a disaster!  After I got a fantastic chewing out and precise instructions that I wasn't to nick the trees, to follow a pattern, not mow in the center to a wide piece leaving a small section on either side of the mower, to set my eyes on a marker in the distance and mow straight towards it, so I would mow in a straight line. You get the picture right? With instructions, I actually did pretty well, but I'm not an osmosis learner by any means.

  I love mowing actually.  It's me time.  I put on my earphones, set my Mamma Mia music to play and sing madly along as I go, but I always am reminded of my mamma and that first time I ever mowed.  I now set my eyes on a marker, as I make each turn, but every once-in-a-while, I am tempted to mow my name in the yard... 

Here a chick, there a memory

I have a confession.  I love going to Tractor Supply or farm supply stores.  I love the smell of the leather, the salt blocks, livestock food...  

I know it goes back to my childhood of having critters around.  The smell of the hay, which occupied half of the barn, permeated every nook and cranny, often housed small gray mice and rats, which scampering one could hear upon creaking open the heavy wood door.   I have memories of standing as still as possible, in the middle of the barn, waiting with baited breath, to see if I could spot of the  critters, stomping on the wood floor to send them to their hiding places again.  It was like a game, but in reality, they weren't really that scared of us.  A large hay hook enabled one to pull a bale from the tower of hay, sectioning off a few squares of hay to fluff for that day's winter feeding.  Plunging the huge metal scoop into the 50 lb bag of horse food.  The pellets spilling about as the horses crowded close to snatch the first bite before the plinking of the falling pellets hit the wood trough.  Their velvety soft noses exploring coat pockets for special apple or carrot treats if you didn't act fast enough.  Tromping to the north end of the pasture, water from the cistern was pumped into the white chipped and dilapidated claw-footed tub that served as a water trough. the horses scattered droplets of cold well water with their noses, shaking their heads before plunging their noses under and blowing bubbles.  

Hefting the 40 lb bag of grain-free lamb dog food in the basket, I glanced towards the back of the store, drawn by the glow of heat lamps in the middle of the aisle.  I was instantly propelled back to my childhood, as I glanced into the huge galvanized feed troughs, from which chirping, fluffy balls of yellow huddled beneath the warming lamps.  If it weren't for the locked enclosure keeping people from handling them, I would have been in the middle of them. 

Growing up, we didn't have a farm implement store close and ordered our baby chicks through the mail. The second you walked into the doors of the post office, the much anticipated peeping of the chicks filled your ears...  Looking back, it was such a wonderful time building memories.  I actually have felt sorry for my own children, that they did not experience the same chores and memories that Honey and I have growing up in more rural settings.

Fuzzy Memories

My brother and I at our grandparents in Kansas

As I get older, some memories seem to pull up less frequently, but given a nudge, they seem to explode.  

Last month, Honey and I took a weekend get-away to attend Niece's baby shower back home.  While there, we made a quick jaunt up to Mom's house to check on it.  Honestly, I dread going in there.  While it is cleaned up and pretty neat, there are still reminders and memories tucked in just about corner that flood my heart. Most of the time, I leave so sad.  My Momma should be there, hugging us when we arrive, her list of Do-projects sitting on the bar, standing at the door, waving as we drive away.  Now, all I leave are tears...  Alzheimer's just sucks.

As we were checking on  different areas of the house, I discovered her old Singer Slant-O-Matic 500 Rocketeer Sewing Machine shoved back in the corner of a closet.   It was the machine I learned to sew on a a very young child , Mom made most all my clothes, and my bridesmaid dresses were created on it. 

Mom's Rocketeer

Such great memories there!  Grabbing it, I started searching for the box of feet and accessories I knew went with it.  If I could get it running, I thought I'd give it to Only, since she doesn't have a sewing machine.  In my search, I came across a forgotten box of photos and slides shoved under some material.  Grabbing those, I added them to my growing pile of memories on the bar.  Behind the photos and slides I found the accessory box for the sewing machine! It was a great day for discovering! 

Honey grabbed a sturdy "vintage" 16' wooden ladder from the garage that was used out on the farm during the depression.  I wanted it to put my quilts on.  Because it was so incredibly long, we had to cut it into two 8' parts to get into the truck bed.  Since the smaller section was still too tall for the space I needed, I decided to put one section in my kitchen above the cabinet.

The forgotten Outhouse

My discovery in The old Outhouse, which Mom used to store tools, made me cry upon finding the old sled from my childhood, and begged Honey to let me take it home.  So many memories made on that during those cold Kansas winters. It should make it's decorative debut this winter on my front porch.   

Once home, I allowed myself an evening to venture into the box of slides and photos.  To my delight, I found this nifty Guild Mini-Master slide viewer and with each slide, memories came flooding back.  I found if I held up the Mini-Master up to the light and held my cell phone up to take a picture, I could awkwardly manage it.   Before I knew it, I was texting pictures to my brother and we spent a good two hours going back and forth. Many of the pictures that have Mom in them... She looked so incredibly young and, of course, she had this boundless energy that helped her to keep up with two active kids.

Boston Memories:  Santa was not a favorite of mine when I was younger, but I'm sure I was not alone in my fear.   I wish I could remember more of our time in Boston, but am thankful for the picture to fill in the blanks.  See the car in the background?   That dusty station wagon was our family vehicle until I was probably in middle elementary.  The dust would literally roll in through the cracks and windows on the old country roads.  I can almost feel the grit on my face.

Christmas:  If you look closely, past the cool toys that we got and some we still have (that doll and firetruck were AWESOME!), you might be able to see several Elf-on-a-shelf predecessors, that Mom put on our tree each year.   Since we had several of them, they really were just a decoration.  I'd like to say we were "perfect" children and didn't need Elf-on-a-shelf, but the spanking board and cut switches we had testify otherwise.

This one made me smile.

Time in Kansas

My childhood home

 At some point, we returned to Kansas briefly, to buy a house, start some renovations on the early 1900's home to make it livable.  We had no indoor bathroom, but an outhouse and cistern off the back porch served their purpose.  The 1970's avacado colored kitchen was about the size of a small bedroom, but the  suited us perfectly. Our baths were taken by hauling water from the cistern at the back of the house, heating it on the stove, and pouring it into a galvanized washtub.  It was always nice to be the first one in the tub!   The house doesn't even look like this now.  The two porches were remodeled for more bedrooms and a new kitchen, but the memories on those porches were priceless!  On days when we had summer thunderstorms, my brother and I would take our toys, games, and Barbie/GI Joe dolls, and play on the side porch.

side Porch and back of house

         

Hanging stocking on the door

Grandma and Grandpa Wilson

One of the best things about living in KS was having Grandma and Grandpa live directly across the street from us.   They had this huge tree in the front of their home with a wood swing under the front part and up by the trunk was a huge tractor tire filled with sand for grandkids to play in.  On beautiful days, one would find them sitting on the swing, just enjoying the day or resting from chores.

Ugh, Easter Pictures and lace

Most of my early childhood was spent sharing this bunk bead with my brother.  We had the most fun with that thing!   I learned quickly that I could aggravate my brother to pieces by putting my feet on the underside of the top bunk and push up quickly.  Probably pay-back for all the torture he dished out.  That baby doll I had was one of my favorites, but Mom told me that after I got her, I somehow pulled her hair out, and she used a marker to "draw" hair on her.

Easter Egg hunts were fantastic in KS, especially with the cousins!  There were tons of hiding places, old trees, old tractor tire that was our sandbox, flowers, porches, and more.  Mom used to count all the eggs she put out, to make sure we found them all.

Florida
Life was pretty carefree for us.  We loved our school, have a wonderful choir and piano teacher, a block full of kids our age (we lived on a military base), we walked or rode our bicycles everywhere by ourselves (choir, swimming pool, movies).  We knew which yards had the wonderful friendly dogs that loved to be petted, and frequently got chewed out by officers for my brother making me ride on his handle bars when we were out.  I'm not sure if Mom ever followed us in the car on our escapades, but she somehow trusted us.  Mom made us take Judo lessons, which I hated, but my kids think it's pretty funny.  I wanted to take gymnastics like all my friends and wear the cute outfits and dance, not wear a bulky uniform (which I still have).  Notice that after two years, my belt is STILL white!!!  

Our Choir and Piano teacher

This was one of our first Christmases

there.  Can you spot the vintage toys?  They were a blast to have!  That Barbie plane, Viewmaster, GI Jim RV, Barbie Camper, Blythe doll,...The nativity set under the tree was always the first decoration brought out before any other. until close to 2008 when it became too much to have Christmas at Mom's home.

Pinball machine we loved. 

Mom had just had back surgery the second Christmas there and she had to sleep in the pullout couch in the living room.  It made the best place to sit and keep her company, playing games and dolls, and reading books.


Back in Kansas

Kindergarten Picture

 At this time, the side porch of the was converted to an extra bedroom, and my brother and I, for the first time, had separate bedrooms. I remember when a septic tank was installed beside the house and we actually had running water!  The back porch and storage room were converted to an indoor bathroom with toilet and shower, and the laundry room for a brand new washer and dryer!  No more laundry mat and outhouse!!!  Mine was yellow shag carpet, with a yellow canopy bed yellow sheer curtains with white embroidered daisies, and posters of kittens, horses, and puppies on the white paneled walls.  We had chores of feeding chickens and gathering eggs, feeding the cows, tending to the garden, and keeping our rooms spotless.  Mom would tell us that the minister was coming over for Sunday lunch and he would be checking our rooms. I can't believe I fell for that! If only that ruse worked now!

Raine

One thing I loved about being back in Kansas, was being close to the cousins again.  Our extended family was pretty close and nothing compared to a Saturday afternoon to play with Raine, while the parents got together.  I always envied her blonde curls, but I later learned that those curls came with a price - sleeping in hard plastic rollers with pins stuck in them.  A few years ago, we had a good laugh during her visit here, when we figured out that we have the exact same desk as children, except hers is white and mine is brown. Somehow, her white one always seemed so much fancier than my brown one.

Off to school! 

Thanks for stopping by and going on a memory journey with me.  Do you have a favorite memory from your childhood that you could share?  I would love to hear about it!

******************
p.s. I was able to take the sewing machine to our local Sewing Machine Center and $90 later, it was in good working order.  Only was thrilled to have it when we delivered it to her a few weeks ago and is looking forward to learning to sew more using a 66 year-old machine that was her grandma's.  

Come Saturday Morning...

I think all kids come pre-programmed to wake up early on Saturdays.  Seems that during the week we had to drag them out of bed, literally. Made for very grumpy kids and parents.  But come Saturday morning... Yes, you know what is coming.  The feet would patter quietly down the hall, whisper and giggle at our door,  until somehow they inched their way to our bedside.  Oh keep them shut, don't blink, don't move... Oh, I can feel them staring at me, breathing, bumping the bed...  "Mommy..."  they whisper.  I lay still, fake a snore... Maybe they'll go to the other side and wake their daddy up. 

Bandit and Penny

I just wonder what would happen if parents woke up early on a Saturday, before their kids, sneak into their rooms, and jump on their beds begging them to get up so we could watch some home improvement show or go to the store for groceries, lumber, fabric, or car parts.

We are working towards the Empty Nest.  Youngest is 16 and clearly loves his sleep and it has been many years since we've had someone romping on the bed begging for us to wake up... Until last weekend... *sigh*

5:30 a.m.  Yes, 5:30 a.m., these two goofballs bounded up on our bed with tennis balls and chew tire.  Honey attempted to hide the ball under the covers, but Penny the hound, dove under the covers and frantically began searching. Covers were flying, dogs were growling and barking.  We ended up laughing our heads off.    I've got to teach these dogs that Saturdays are days to sleep in!

Once upon a snowy day

 Their pudgy noses pressed against the front door.  For once Oldest and Only were not in time out, but desperately searching for a sign.  Silently they waited in their fleece footie jammies, little hands against the glass feeling the cold outside world, leaving fingerprints low on the glass.  Their breath fogging up their view as the sun peaked over the treetops, a silhouetting orange glow framed their silent limbs.  


"Mommy!  I see it!" they called anxiously beckoning me to them.  Joining them, I peered into the morning light, searching with them for what they imagined.


There, floating lazily down to touch the yard's cold, barren cover, was a lone snowflake, giving hope and laughter to two small kids.  Their lips turned upward as the corners of their eyes wrinkled, their smiles reaching their sparkling eyes while their hands wiped at the foggy glass.

"Sissy!  Did you see it?"
"Bubba, I see it!  Can we go out?"
" Oh!  There's another one and another!" 

By now their little feet are dancing and hands clapping in anticipation, questioning faces looking up at me.

That was so long ago, but so freshly pressed in my mind as I watched the sweet wonder of The Girls fairly dancing at the door watching snowflake after snowflake joining together to form a beautiful white carpet on our yard.  While my the fingerprints of my own children are no longer low on the glass, I now leave new little finger prints on the glass as a reminder of the innocent joy they express at that first sign of snow.

The Yahtzee game

"Come on, let's play Yahtzee"

"But I don't know how," she said with an uncertain and reluctant look on her face.

"It's okay, we'll teach you," I replied as I took her soft hand and lead her to the table where Honey was sitting. "See, here are the dice and we're going to each take one to see who goes first.  Wow, you rolled a five, Honey got a two, and I got a six.  I'll go first and we'll show you what to do."  and our game began slowly as we waited for the others to arrive. She look around, as if trying to find a reason not to play.  Her sister came in the door and watched. 

"Wow! You rolled FIVE 5's!!!  Why don't you roll again to see if you get a Yahtzee?" we encouraged her. She picked up the last dice and let it gently roll out of her hand...  "Wahooo!!!  Look at that!  Another five!  You got a Yahtzee on your first turn"  we cheered!

"But I don't know what to do. What do you do with these things and what is this paper for?"

 "Well, let's count these the dots on the dice and write them down. Each one of these are worth 5.  Can you count by fives with me? I asked.  "Five, ten...."  I finished counting for her and prompted her to write down her Yahtzee score (the counting by fives had nothing to do with her score, but seemed to help).

People started arriving and she looked relieved.  She didn't know who they all were, but it was the interruption she was wanting. She looked at us, as if to ask for permission. We started to pack up the game as Honey commented "This sure is a great time to stop since you're winning!  Let's go see who is here."

This last weekend, Honey and I traveled to a small family reunion for my side of the family and the conversation involved Honey, myself, and my Momma, who so patiently taught me to play Yahtzee growing up. I miss my Momma.

Sweet summer scents

Closing my eyes,I rested my chin against her damp pig-tailed tresses and breathed in, expecting a sweet scent of baby bath.  Instead I was surprised when a Beachy Copper tone, mixed with a bit of outdoor sunshine freshness and unmistakable pool chlorine, filled my senses.

Cousins gather at Grand Lake, staking out "prime" sleeping spots while aunts and uncles set up noisy box fans in creaky wooden windows. Flip flops slapping rocky paths, rolling worn blackish inner-tubes splashing, with laughter spilling into the evening. Laying out on late 70's stick-to-your-skin plastic folding lounge chairs, sun towels drape over low hanging branches to dry in the warm summer heat. Conversations increase as the hint of cooking hotdogs mingle with the song of bullfrogs, cicadas, and crickets.

"Raine" and Roy

Sneaking out for midnight swims, stumbling along pebbled paths to the wooded beach, hidden on a cove, waves gently carry driftwood onto the moonlit, tan-colored sandy shore. Distorted reflections of sparkling stars surround the pale golden globe bouncing on the gentle waves.

Swatting Mosquitoes, water-skiing filled days, and peeing in the middle of the lake, and sleeping beneath the vast OK sky... a smattering of whispered voices spill into the night, over the loud respiration coming from the cabin occupied by the adults. 

Amazing is the scent of a sleeping child, that can bring back so many wonderful memories...



 

FridayFunnies

Miss AB and Miss "I"

We've had a lot of illness with the girls for about a month (it seems longer) and I'm sure it's not over yet, but Miss "I" and Miss AB are finally back together.  I think they've been saving their conversations and funnies because they started the silliness very early this morning.  Hope this puts a smile on your face - oh I'm so glad it's Finally Friday! 

 "Hey Miss Net! Did you know that my Aunt Polly had a new baby, but she still keeps her other one, Sophia?"  The thing kids say! — 

"Go!" Izzy commands our dog as she was checking our her pancakes...
Lady slinks out of the kitchen while AB comments: "I can't do that because I don't know the password!"

 Miss "I" kicked her shoes off at the front door and sat in the chair with a book she got at the school carnival last night.  She is so proud of herself for getting a book with no pictures - Judy Blume's Fudge-A-Mania.  Looking so cute in the chair with a book far beyond her handful of sight words, I looked at her sockless feet and asked if her feet were cold.  With a grin, she wiggled her toes and said:  "No, but they sure do stink!"

Once upon a snowy day

Their pudgy noses pressed against the front door.  For once Oldest and Only were not in time out, but desperately searching for a sign.  Silently they waiting in their fleece footie jammies, little hands against the glass feeling the cold of the outside world, leaving fingerprints low on the glass.  Their breath fogging up their view as the sun peaked over the treetops, a silhouetting orange glow framed the silent tree limbs. 
"Mommy!  I see it!" they called anxiously beckoning me to them.  Joining them, I peered into the morning light, searching with them for what they imagined.

There, floating lazily down to touch the yard's cold, barren cover, was a lone snowflake, giving hope and laughter to two small kids.  Their lips turned upward as the corners of their eyes wrinkled, their smiles reaching their sparkling eyes while their hands wiped at the foggy glass.

"Sissy!  Did you see it?"
"Bubba, i see it!  Can we go out?"
" Oh!  There's another one and another!" 

Lady loves the snow!

Icy treats

By now their little feet are dancing and hands clapping in anticipation, questioning faces looking up at me, eyes shifting between me and their heavy winter coats... I can see I've already lost this one. 

That was so long ago, but so freshly pressed in my mind as I viewed the falling snow this morning.  Snowflake after snowflake joining together to form a beautiful white carpet on our yard.  The fingerprints are no longer low on the glass and they do not wait eagerly by the door for that first sign of snow.  They snuggle deep under piles of quilts, with their phones close to their faces, groggily reading the text announcing "No School" for them... I miss those playful day, but am thankful for a beautiful day off to rest.

I hope that where ever you are, that today some delightful memory will be pressed in your mind, like the image of a snow angel, or little upturned faces, tongues out, catching feathery flakes from God.

Piggy Tales: Flying cats, "tragedy", and country churches

"Hey Lynnet!  You gotta see this!" my brother called to me, luring me outside. Had to be something good like a snake or arrowhead, which we found frequently tilling the garden, because he was really excited. I barely cleared the back door when I saw my cat Marion flying through the air.  My brother had fashioned a crude, low-to-the-ground teeter-totter, placed cat food on one end and waited until she "took the bait," sending her on a first rate flying tour of the patio.  I was so ticked at him.  Not sure if he tried it again, but I wouldn't put it past him.

Pix by Fashion Doll Guide

"Tragedy"  I don't know what age most girls stop playing with dolls, but Bryan and I could prove that G.I. Joe & Jim were VERY good friends with Ken and Barbie for a very long time.  They hung out together in the barn (Jim still has a missing leg somewhere under the bales of hay), worked the sand pits (sand box), went camping in their cool campers, and anywhere else you could think of.  I think that Barbie secretly like Jim, but Ken kept getting in the way. Jim and Joe were both witnesses for Ken and Barbie's wedding under the towering maple tree on the west porch one early summer, as she wore a wedding gown my mother fashioned for her. One doll that I loved was my Chitty Chitty Bang Bang doll.  Oh, she was just beautiful in that dress, and I loved playing with her, until that fateful day when my brother gave my beautiful doll to my dog to eat. I somehow managed to salvage her head, but the mutilated body would have been a hay-day for NCIS.  Her dress?  Up in the attic with my other childhood dolls in a wildly flowered 70's child's suitcase.  I think that was the same week that G.I. Jim lost his leg in the barn due to hitting a rafter during a operative mission to save her.  I can think of far nicer ways to get revenge!  Did any of your siblings ever do anything like this when you were growing up?

Niotaze Christian Church

A little country church  The thing about growing up in a REALLY small town is there is only one "live" church and the other is a historical treasure. As the morning mist rose, leaving dew in it's wake, the bells began to ring, announcing that church was about to begin.  Some people drove their cars, but most people walked.  If you arrived early enough, they would let one of the kids ring the bell that hung in the tower entry.  That old thick sisal rope reminded me of something we used to lead the horses around the barn on. The secret was to grab it just above the double knot at the end, pull down as hard as you could and quickly lift your feet off the ground as the rope soared upwards, the deafening ringing filled the stillness of the sleepy town. Whoohoo!  What a ride!  You can find more musing about this church in my third grade tale. When I was in college, I wrote a fiction story based on the life I had in Niotaze and published it here:  Post Toasties Encounter (part 1 and part 2).


Hunter's Safety class - Mom loved doing stuff with us and, like most moms, signed us up for something we didn't want to do (remember the Judo lessons I had in FL) - Hunter's Safety classes.  I think I may still have that worn out yellow booklet in the attic. Regardless, I was never really excited about it, but Mom thought it was important.  I can't tell you all the mornings she would get us up before Sunrise and we would head out to my uncle's wheat field for Pheasant hunting or off to the garden to dig up fat juicy night-crawlers for our many fishing trips. I don't remember every actually shooting a pheasant, but a fish is much easier to get.  I hated taking the hooks out of their mouths, so sometimes I would just toss the worms out into the lake or pond we were at so we could be finished sooner.  It was hard to sit still for hours just to "feed" the fish with NO talking!  Sheesh it was torture! Guess it must have been fun, because we always had a mess of fish for dinner in the evenings and we came home laughing.


If you're just glutton to read more of my scintillating life in 5th grade when Elvis died and small town life flourished, you can find it here.

If you would like to read more Piggy Tales from other ladies, click on over to Mommy's Piggy Tales.   If you would like to join in and start recording your own Piggy Tales, contact Jana at Mommy's Piggy Tales to find out how  (jannajoy25 (at) hotmail.com). she has a third session starting up in February.  If for some reason you missed any of my previous posts, you can find them here.