How old is too old to do some good?
Well, there's a nine-decade gap between Iva Broadus and DeAngela Williams. Other than making Ms. Broadus – who will turn 99 in two weeks – the oldest Big Sister in the nation, according to the organization's records, that little fact doesn't seem to matter much.
At Cockrell Hill Elementary School in DeSoto, 10-year-old DeAngela enjoys social studies and science. But the highlight of her week is the school bus ride to Grace Presbyterian Village, where she visits her Big Sister.
In the gentle give-and-take over cards or lunch, there are other kinds of teaching and learning between Ms. Broadus and DeAngela. Social protocols, manners that are best passed from older to younger – the same things Ms. Broadus learned, in turn, as a little girl from her Aunt Edna.
"People are going to like people who like them," Ms. Broadus told her young charge in a recent discussion. "That's why I'm here, to tell you little things you don't know."
Read more in the Dallas Morning News story that also ran in the Denton Record Chronicle: http://www.dentonrc.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/011308dnmetbigsister.23183b6.html
Monday, February 11, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Grandma Laura: What love looks like when it's busy
So I was laying in bed thinking about how cold my feet were -- I'd been working in the draft, oblivious to my chilling tootsies -- and thinking I should really find my pink fuzzy slippers my kids got me for Christmas three years ago.
They're big and hairy (the slippers, not the kids) and you'd think they'd be really warm, for being so plush, but it occurred to me that no slippers could possibly get my feet as warm as the red woolen ones my Grandma used to knit for us every winter.
She was skilled in all sorts of fancy handwork, abilities learned at the knee of her Norwegian mother and aunts even before she sailed into New York harbor as a blue-eyed girl of 8, destined first for Ellis Island and then for a farming life in North Dakota.
The slippers she made us (and mittens too, for that matter) had to be red, as Grandma knew what most grandmothers seem to know -- that you will always lose just one, so the remaining slippers and mittens will need mates. She kept a drawer of singlet slippers and mittens by the door, hospitably ready for any visitor to come in and politely take their shoes off and warm up chilled toes in two little nearly-matched bits of hand-knitted heaven.
It's a scientific fact, her red mittens and slippers were the warmest, just as her sheets were the whitest and crispest and an education in and of themselves as outside their linen folds I had no understanding that sheets could be either crisp or white.
The truth is, my grandmother was the mother of all superlatives for me. Her laugh would charm the most hardened criminal; her look of disapproval from a flash of blue eyes the color of Norwegian seas under arched eyebrows, if incurred, weighed like an anvil on the shoulders of the mind.
Her pork chops were the most delicately seasoned I have ever consumed, the raspberries from her garden the sweetest, her roses the rosiest and her many species of African violets the violetest.
She served me grape Hi-C in glasses etched so pristinely it was like drinking from tiny chandeliers, quite a heady nectar it was, too. When I was more grown-up, there was hot tea with milk, and always her Scottish shortbread that melted at tongue temperature. Every piece of shortbread I've had since has failed to live up to the Grandmother standard.
With her clip-on mabe pearl earrings, true red lipstick perfectly applied and a light blue scarf at her throat, she was a picture of elegance each Saturday as we went to grocery shop, where I was assured a mint from her big clasped leather handbag.
My dad sent me all her handbags after she died, mailed me a big box of them because he didn't know what else to do with them, he said.
At the time, I was nonplussed at his gift of the ancient but still immaculate purses that had once been repositories for all that Grandma needed for our big weekly outing. I regret to say I could do what he couldn't -- I threw them out. I'd love to have just one of them now to put my cold memories in and warm them up.
But since my dad died I have her songbook from the Sons of Norway lodge, and I have her bean pot and the afghan and pillowcase that softened her gleaming maple rocker.
I know my grandma had her human side, but I never really saw it, or perhaps a glimpse when I exasperated or disappointed her -- which had to be often, but she was a patient woman.
She was something of a rock for family and neighbors, a legendary example of what love looked like when it was busy.
And she was the reason that every Christmas I searched for that perfect light blue scarf to give her, maybe one the color of the eyes of the morning glories on the vines that climbed over the trellis against her white storybook cottage that I now realize must have been just 600 square feet in size. She would always be surprised and delighted with each and have some nice remark about the fabric or the color.
When she died, she had a whole drawer full of light blue scarves because, of course, she couldn't throw them out.
My theory, and I could be wrong, is that when Grandma got to Heaven, she put a drawer full of nearly-matched hand-knitted red slippers by the pearly gates, waiting hospitably to welcome guests and take the chill of the journey off, and come in and have some and Scottish shortbread that melts at tongue temperature.
At least, that's my idea of Heaven.
I wasn't able to be there when my grandmother died; I couldn't go to her funeral or see her peers come to mourn her. Perhaps that's why I sometimes feel like she's still with me.
Call me sentimental, but sometimes I almost think I can hear -- more likely feel -- the sound of her chuckle as we cut up salmon filets for canning in the August sunshine or her voice warbling the last Norwegian she could recall -- the national anthem -- or calling me in from hiding under the all-enveloping green canopy of her weeping willow.
And it's almost like I'm in her warm and creaking kitchen once again and she's tucking me into snowy sheets on the rollaway cot and I think if I ever get a chance to be that memorable and meaningful to some child I would be honored beyond belief, and if I ever get a chance to live up to her gene pool and exhibit even a fifth of that old-fashioned hospitality and graciousness -- even in the face of grave circumstances -- I would have achieved true character. By the Grandmother standard, by which all truly good things -- from pork chops to sheets -- are measured.
And maybe I'll start by taking up knitting. I'm thinking ... slippers.
Do you have good memories of a beloved grandparent, or an idea of what Heaven must be like? Leave me a note -- I'd love to hear about them.
They're big and hairy (the slippers, not the kids) and you'd think they'd be really warm, for being so plush, but it occurred to me that no slippers could possibly get my feet as warm as the red woolen ones my Grandma used to knit for us every winter.
She was skilled in all sorts of fancy handwork, abilities learned at the knee of her Norwegian mother and aunts even before she sailed into New York harbor as a blue-eyed girl of 8, destined first for Ellis Island and then for a farming life in North Dakota.
The slippers she made us (and mittens too, for that matter) had to be red, as Grandma knew what most grandmothers seem to know -- that you will always lose just one, so the remaining slippers and mittens will need mates. She kept a drawer of singlet slippers and mittens by the door, hospitably ready for any visitor to come in and politely take their shoes off and warm up chilled toes in two little nearly-matched bits of hand-knitted heaven.
It's a scientific fact, her red mittens and slippers were the warmest, just as her sheets were the whitest and crispest and an education in and of themselves as outside their linen folds I had no understanding that sheets could be either crisp or white.
The truth is, my grandmother was the mother of all superlatives for me. Her laugh would charm the most hardened criminal; her look of disapproval from a flash of blue eyes the color of Norwegian seas under arched eyebrows, if incurred, weighed like an anvil on the shoulders of the mind.
Her pork chops were the most delicately seasoned I have ever consumed, the raspberries from her garden the sweetest, her roses the rosiest and her many species of African violets the violetest.
She served me grape Hi-C in glasses etched so pristinely it was like drinking from tiny chandeliers, quite a heady nectar it was, too. When I was more grown-up, there was hot tea with milk, and always her Scottish shortbread that melted at tongue temperature. Every piece of shortbread I've had since has failed to live up to the Grandmother standard.
With her clip-on mabe pearl earrings, true red lipstick perfectly applied and a light blue scarf at her throat, she was a picture of elegance each Saturday as we went to grocery shop, where I was assured a mint from her big clasped leather handbag.
My dad sent me all her handbags after she died, mailed me a big box of them because he didn't know what else to do with them, he said.
At the time, I was nonplussed at his gift of the ancient but still immaculate purses that had once been repositories for all that Grandma needed for our big weekly outing. I regret to say I could do what he couldn't -- I threw them out. I'd love to have just one of them now to put my cold memories in and warm them up.
But since my dad died I have her songbook from the Sons of Norway lodge, and I have her bean pot and the afghan and pillowcase that softened her gleaming maple rocker.
I know my grandma had her human side, but I never really saw it, or perhaps a glimpse when I exasperated or disappointed her -- which had to be often, but she was a patient woman.
She was something of a rock for family and neighbors, a legendary example of what love looked like when it was busy.
And she was the reason that every Christmas I searched for that perfect light blue scarf to give her, maybe one the color of the eyes of the morning glories on the vines that climbed over the trellis against her white storybook cottage that I now realize must have been just 600 square feet in size. She would always be surprised and delighted with each and have some nice remark about the fabric or the color.
When she died, she had a whole drawer full of light blue scarves because, of course, she couldn't throw them out.
My theory, and I could be wrong, is that when Grandma got to Heaven, she put a drawer full of nearly-matched hand-knitted red slippers by the pearly gates, waiting hospitably to welcome guests and take the chill of the journey off, and come in and have some and Scottish shortbread that melts at tongue temperature.
At least, that's my idea of Heaven.
I wasn't able to be there when my grandmother died; I couldn't go to her funeral or see her peers come to mourn her. Perhaps that's why I sometimes feel like she's still with me.
Call me sentimental, but sometimes I almost think I can hear -- more likely feel -- the sound of her chuckle as we cut up salmon filets for canning in the August sunshine or her voice warbling the last Norwegian she could recall -- the national anthem -- or calling me in from hiding under the all-enveloping green canopy of her weeping willow.
And it's almost like I'm in her warm and creaking kitchen once again and she's tucking me into snowy sheets on the rollaway cot and I think if I ever get a chance to be that memorable and meaningful to some child I would be honored beyond belief, and if I ever get a chance to live up to her gene pool and exhibit even a fifth of that old-fashioned hospitality and graciousness -- even in the face of grave circumstances -- I would have achieved true character. By the Grandmother standard, by which all truly good things -- from pork chops to sheets -- are measured.
And maybe I'll start by taking up knitting. I'm thinking ... slippers.
Do you have good memories of a beloved grandparent, or an idea of what Heaven must be like? Leave me a note -- I'd love to hear about them.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Giants fans should register at Macy's?
Giants won! Consider it a Giants leap for marketing and a great reason for our son and his Giants fan fiancee to register at Macy's -- they could put a Waterford Crystal Commemorative Football on their registry wish list. That's what I'm talking about!
Seriously -- within three hours of the New York Giants astonishing 17-14 upset Super Bowl win over the New England Patriots, Macy's online was emailing ads to crystal-collecting football buffs, inviting them to get their own Waterford Crystal XLll Super Bowl Champion Football for $185.
"Larger than life! On football's ultimate proving ground, one team stands alone – the New York Giants have won it all! Commemorate every bone-crunching tackle and triumphant touchdown with this limited edition Waterford Crystal football."
In case you were concerned about imitations, no worries: each individually engraved and numbered piece includes a certificate of authenticity, certifying that it is a real, authentic, genuine, top of the line crystal football from Waterford. http://www1.macys.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=298539&EXTRA_PARAMETER=ZOOM&CURRENT_PAGE=0
It is lovely -- engraved with the Giants' M&M-looking logo and "Champions", it looks kind of like a real expensive two-ended pineapple. http://www.macys.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=298539&PartnerID=email
Now, if you could get your hands on it, the real collector's item might be the New England Patriots version -- it's crystal clear they must have had two made up just in case, one for each team, especially considering the Patriots were heavily favored to win by everyone.
You don't suppose the real reason it will take 6-8 weeks to get the commemorative crystal football is because Macy's went with the pundits and only pre-made ones with the Patriots inscribed as champs?? Naaah...
(In case you haven't heard, here's a message to you now that you're back from outer Mongolia, which is the only place on the planet you could have managed to evade the news: With half a minute to play, the Little Football Team That Could ruined a perfectly good season for the New England Patriots, 17-14. There was no getting stunned and jubilant fans and well-wishers off the field for the final two seconds of Super Bowl XLII.
See the New York Times account: http://www.nytimes.com/?emc=na
Read it in the Washington Post: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/02/03/AR2008020301882.html?referrer=email)
Giants fan John Travolta, who gave 34-24 odds on the Patriots prior to the game, must have been delighted by the Giants win. Unless, of course, he actually cash bet on those more likely odds.
Where's a crystal ball when you need one? -- J. Louise Larson http://jlouiselarson.blogspot.com/
Seriously -- within three hours of the New York Giants astonishing 17-14 upset Super Bowl win over the New England Patriots, Macy's online was emailing ads to crystal-collecting football buffs, inviting them to get their own Waterford Crystal XLll Super Bowl Champion Football for $185.
"Larger than life! On football's ultimate proving ground, one team stands alone – the New York Giants have won it all! Commemorate every bone-crunching tackle and triumphant touchdown with this limited edition Waterford Crystal football."
In case you were concerned about imitations, no worries: each individually engraved and numbered piece includes a certificate of authenticity, certifying that it is a real, authentic, genuine, top of the line crystal football from Waterford. http://www1.macys.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=298539&EXTRA_PARAMETER=ZOOM&CURRENT_PAGE=0
It is lovely -- engraved with the Giants' M&M-looking logo and "Champions", it looks kind of like a real expensive two-ended pineapple. http://www.macys.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=298539&PartnerID=email
Now, if you could get your hands on it, the real collector's item might be the New England Patriots version -- it's crystal clear they must have had two made up just in case, one for each team, especially considering the Patriots were heavily favored to win by everyone.
You don't suppose the real reason it will take 6-8 weeks to get the commemorative crystal football is because Macy's went with the pundits and only pre-made ones with the Patriots inscribed as champs?? Naaah...
(In case you haven't heard, here's a message to you now that you're back from outer Mongolia, which is the only place on the planet you could have managed to evade the news: With half a minute to play, the Little Football Team That Could ruined a perfectly good season for the New England Patriots, 17-14. There was no getting stunned and jubilant fans and well-wishers off the field for the final two seconds of Super Bowl XLII.
See the New York Times account: http://www.nytimes.com/?emc=na
Read it in the Washington Post: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/02/03/AR2008020301882.html?referrer=email)
Giants fan John Travolta, who gave 34-24 odds on the Patriots prior to the game, must have been delighted by the Giants win. Unless, of course, he actually cash bet on those more likely odds.
Where's a crystal ball when you need one? -- J. Louise Larson http://jlouiselarson.blogspot.com/
Friday, February 1, 2008
Family Accommodations Survey for the Wedding
Here is a real survey that was sent by MOG (Mother of the Groom) J. Louise Larson to groom's side family members in preparation for wedding accommodations.
1) Our son's getting married and we're planning accommodations for his wedding. If you were going to spend between a few days to a week at a rented vacation home, maybe with a couple of your dearest siblings and perhaps a couple of their kids -- what would your preferences be?
A - seaside place with water -- maybe a dock, maybe a kayak, depending, out of doors
B - quaint historic-type home in quaint history-filled city, walk to museums, dock, restaurants
C - quaint place in town in quaint seaside village
D - Neither -- my family drives me crazy, why would I do that? I'd just as soon smack myself on a bruise repeatedly
2) How likely are you to come to the wedding?
A - I'm not coming unless you have the wedding in Paris, France
B - i'm not coming unless you have the wedding in Paris, TEXAS
C - I'm allergic to weddings and sentiment of any kind. Sniveling women with hats on aren't my bag
D - I'm a single chick hoping to catch the bouquet. Will there be eligible groomsmen?
E - I'm a single dude and I just watched Wedding Crashers. Will there be eligible bridesmaids?
F - I'm single and above such sexist comments. Will there be a buffet?
G - You couldn't pry me out of this town with a crow bar. Have a nice wedding
H - Very likely
I - Not at all likely and that doesn't mean send them an invite anyway so they'll at least send a present
3) How long would you be interested in spending at said place?
A - Since we'll go to the expense of getting there, and there may be free food, might as well stay a week
B - I can't be away from my own bed hardly at all -- rehearsal night and wedding night is all
C - I wouldn't dream of shared accommodations as my family offends me or I am allergic to everything and everyone or I just need plenty of down time
D - I need to get out of town for a month as I've absconded with club funds. Count me in for as long as I can mooch
4) There will be meals provided for the rehearsal dinner, and for the wedding. Otherwise, which option appeals to you?
A - Take turns cooking
B - Restaurants; I want a break from cooking
C - I have all the money in the world -- bring in Wolfgang Puck
D - I plan to catch my own crab in the bay and cook it over a fire I start myself with two sticks like Tom Hanks in the movie Castaway. Can I do that in there?
E - I am a fruitarian; I believe food has feelings and I only eat fruits, vegetables, grains and nuts that have fallen to the ground and so are dead already. Don't eat that carrot salad -- it's been murdered
F - Just give me a crate of Kraft Mac and Cheese boxes to gnaw on and I'm good
5) There are a lot of historic and interesting places withing 15-55 minutes. How much sightseeing are you interested in?
A - Out of doors free/cheap: hiking, kayaking, crabbing, strolling and taking the air
B - Historic cheap -- free monuments, national museums, anything historic and free
C - browsing for antiques at a quaint historic cute stores
D - I want to see everywhere George Washington slept
E - point me to the mall
F - Set me down in front of the TV, I think there's a Monk marathon on
6) One last question. Which of these last questions do you want answered?
A - Where are the happy couple registered?
B - Who on earth are any of these people and why did I get this email?
-- J. Louise Larson http://familyrootsandwings.blogspot.com/
1) Our son's getting married and we're planning accommodations for his wedding. If you were going to spend between a few days to a week at a rented vacation home, maybe with a couple of your dearest siblings and perhaps a couple of their kids -- what would your preferences be?
A - seaside place with water -- maybe a dock, maybe a kayak, depending, out of doors
B - quaint historic-type home in quaint history-filled city, walk to museums, dock, restaurants
C - quaint place in town in quaint seaside village
D - Neither -- my family drives me crazy, why would I do that? I'd just as soon smack myself on a bruise repeatedly
2) How likely are you to come to the wedding?
A - I'm not coming unless you have the wedding in Paris, France
B - i'm not coming unless you have the wedding in Paris, TEXAS
C - I'm allergic to weddings and sentiment of any kind. Sniveling women with hats on aren't my bag
D - I'm a single chick hoping to catch the bouquet. Will there be eligible groomsmen?
E - I'm a single dude and I just watched Wedding Crashers. Will there be eligible bridesmaids?
F - I'm single and above such sexist comments. Will there be a buffet?
G - You couldn't pry me out of this town with a crow bar. Have a nice wedding
H - Very likely
I - Not at all likely and that doesn't mean send them an invite anyway so they'll at least send a present
3) How long would you be interested in spending at said place?
A - Since we'll go to the expense of getting there, and there may be free food, might as well stay a week
B - I can't be away from my own bed hardly at all -- rehearsal night and wedding night is all
C - I wouldn't dream of shared accommodations as my family offends me or I am allergic to everything and everyone or I just need plenty of down time
D - I need to get out of town for a month as I've absconded with club funds. Count me in for as long as I can mooch
4) There will be meals provided for the rehearsal dinner, and for the wedding. Otherwise, which option appeals to you?
A - Take turns cooking
B - Restaurants; I want a break from cooking
C - I have all the money in the world -- bring in Wolfgang Puck
D - I plan to catch my own crab in the bay and cook it over a fire I start myself with two sticks like Tom Hanks in the movie Castaway. Can I do that in there?
E - I am a fruitarian; I believe food has feelings and I only eat fruits, vegetables, grains and nuts that have fallen to the ground and so are dead already. Don't eat that carrot salad -- it's been murdered
F - Just give me a crate of Kraft Mac and Cheese boxes to gnaw on and I'm good
5) There are a lot of historic and interesting places withing 15-55 minutes. How much sightseeing are you interested in?
A - Out of doors free/cheap: hiking, kayaking, crabbing, strolling and taking the air
B - Historic cheap -- free monuments, national museums, anything historic and free
C - browsing for antiques at a quaint historic cute stores
D - I want to see everywhere George Washington slept
E - point me to the mall
F - Set me down in front of the TV, I think there's a Monk marathon on
6) One last question. Which of these last questions do you want answered?
A - Where are the happy couple registered?
B - Who on earth are any of these people and why did I get this email?
-- J. Louise Larson http://familyrootsandwings.blogspot.com/
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