Difficult times, with some good times thrown in

I'm in a bit of a funk lately.  This is normal for me in winter, but it's somewhat worse when you have a friend dying, suffering greatly in the process, and can't do a thing about it (I know, it sounds like I think it's "all about me", but I don't; I just feel so bad knowing someone is hurting to such an extreme).  Added to that is the political climate.  Even Cliff and I are in some disagreement about things that are going on in the country, although it doesn't lead to actual arguments.  We just see things differently, and I've learned to avoid the topics that cause dissension.  Each of us knows how the other feels, so there's no use discussing it anyway.  Maybe all the folk singers I've listened to for years have finally influenced me; I have certainly drifted in some of my political leanings.  And the answer, my friends, is STILL blowing in the wind.



When I'm with my daughter and granddaughters, I vent, and they understand.  I've fixed things so I don't see a lot of political posts from either side on Facebook, but there's no way to really escape this situation except to stick my head in the sand.  

Even though she recognizes the President on television, the little girl who comes to our house weekdays takes my mind off the world situation and brightens things up considerably.  It's so much fun to watch her growing and learning.  Last week I bought some cheap "instruments" for her:  a harmonica, a hand drum, a set of maracas.  Monday we'll have a tambourine.  Friday was a lovely day, so after her nap she and I went outside with our instruments and marched to the shop, where Cliff joined the procession.  We marched around the yard making our noises, singing "Old McDonald", having a good old time, although sometimes the kid felt it necessary to instruct us on how to hold our instruments.   When Cora arrives Monday, I already know the first thing she'll want to do is march.  She will have to learn that we old people can only do so much marching, and there will likely be a confrontation or two, but we'll all survive.  

I think she is going to grow up to be a hoarder.  Any toy or object that she has ever touched in this house is expected to stay in this house, in its proper place.  I went through the toy box a while back and dug out all the rattles and baby toys, bagged them up, and put them away to either give to someone with a baby or send to Goodwill.  The child is in a phase now where she plays with baby dolls all the time, dressing them and undressing them.  She went digging for the baby rattles one day, and I went ahead and got them out of hiding for her.  Her babies have been playing with them ever since.  

When I began working on her potty-training, my daughter loaned me a musical potty chair she'd had at her house for her grandchildren.  Cora out-grew it, learned to use the big stool, but still occasionally used the potty chair.  I mentioned to her that I was going to send it back to Rachel, and she protested.  Finally, on a day she wasn't here, I put it out of sight and later sent it home with my daughter.  That's been weeks ago, but one day last week she asked in an accusing tone, "Why did you send my potty chair to Rachel's house?"

We've taken chairs and toys she's outgrown to the garage, where Cliff will hang them on a nail on the wall.  But if she walks in the garage and sees them, she simply has to have them taken down immediately so she can play with them.  We bought an old rusty tricycle for her at a garage sale.  She never used it much, and when her mom brought a shiny new tricycle over and left it here, Cliff put it in the back of the four-wheeler to haul off.  We carefully kept her away from the four-wheeler while the rusty thing was loaded, because we knew she'd object.  One day while Cora and I were in the yard, Cliff drove by us to take the trike and other assorted stuff away.  She looked up after he'd passed us, saw the hunk-of-junk trike, and said, "Where is he taking my tricycle?"  I told her he was just going for a ride, but when he returned with no tricycle, you can bet I heard about it!  

Yes, she's a hoarder.

As you can see, that little girl is a ray of sunshine in a rather sad and sometimes broken world.  I know people get sick and tired of hearing us talk about her, but the truth is, she is the happiest topic we know of.

 Grady was sitting on my lap playing with the string on my hat.  Cora had Buttons, her favorite.  Unfortunately, Buttons has figured out it isn't always fun when she plays with him and runs from her most of the time.

 Cliff and the grandson were cutting wood to heat the shop.  Friday was pretty warm, although very windy, and we walked back to join them.  Our pond is little more than a giant mud-puddle, but it's fun to throw sticks in it.  Especially when there's still ice on the pond.

 She goes everywhere in a run.

The grandson saw me struggling to get down and sit on the ground with Cora, and kindly rolled this big hunk of tree over for us to sit on.  

Yes, she keeps me on my toes, but I happened across THIS ARTICLE that says perhaps keeping busy is the secret to keeping the brain from aging.  I'm not normally a "busy" person, but anybody in charge of a kid this age is going to be busy, like it or not.