The Window

We've been in our current house for almost sixteen years and for all those years I have been complaining about my kitchen. It's small but so are all the kitchens in our village. Ours measures approximately 8 by 12 and when we moved in the walls were covered with cheap, dark paneling. As if that wasn't cavernous enough, there are no windows. The floor tiles were a yellowish-orange that over the years had faded unevenly. Needless to say, I have an ugly kitchen. It seems like each time we had tried to make time to fix it, something has come up that takes us away from the project. We did manage to paint the cabinets white which cheered it up a bit but it still has been a very unpleasant place to cook and do dishes.

With a three-day weekend all our own we started on the remodeling - FINALLY. Over a year ago Jim had resurfaced the empty walls - the ones without the counter, cabinets and refrigerator. This weekend we are working on the back walls. Olga from across the street has been telling us for years that we have a window somewhere in the kitchen but it had been covered over so cabinets could be mounted. Houses built like ours in the 1930's didn't have cabinets in the kitchens so when they came into fashion, the windows had to be sacrificed. The outside of our house is covered with vinyl siding so we could never find out if there was a window or not. We were skeptical about Olga's recollections because she had originally told us we had a kitchen window on the back wall so we had moved the fridge and uncoved the back wall about two years only to find ugly OLD wall board that had to be resurfaced.

Needless to say this kitchen has been an ongoing misery. However, not this weekend. So far Jim, with the help of our grandsons, Cody, Justin and Nick have taken the cabinets off the walls and pulled off the paneling. In doing this, they have uncovered the hidden window and not just any little window but a 32" by 36" window. The true amazement of the window didn't end there. Years earlier Jim noticed a perfectly good window in the trash as he walked passed a neighbor's on the way to the bus stop. He brought the window home and it has been resting in our garage for probably 8 years. I scolded him and argued that it was taking up space and how he shouldn't take things from people's garbage. Well, well, didn't I have to eat my words when we measured and found out that the window he retrieved is EXACTLY the size window we needed for the kitchen.

We've picked out a countertop and backsplash and hope to get these installed tomorrow.

The hole where the window should be

Stay tuned for the remodeling updates...

MRI - Hatless, of Course

We left the office around 4 p.m. to get from downtown to Eastgate for my MRI, figuring that the traffic would be heavy. It was not only a Friday but Labor Day Weekend Friday. Surprisingly we headed east along with flowing traffic and made it to Eastgate by 4:30. ProScan was just behind Applebee's and we decided to pop in there to spend the extra half hour. It was happy hour so potato skins and a cold beer seemed like a good idea.

I got into the office, filled out a few more papers and then headed back to the MRI machine. Thankfully it was an open sided MRI so there was no anxiety. The tech asked what kind of music I would like - country or gospel. I asked for rock, classic preferably and off she went to put in the CD. The other tech got me set on the table and asked me not to move. The beer was the perfect relaxer and I found a comfortable position and waited. I had been told by everyone one that there was going to be very loud noises similar to a construction site.

Strangely as I waited for the machine to start I began drifting into memories of my early childhood. Trying to lie there, not moving, I recalled many nights in bed waiting for the "bad guys" to come in through the window to steal me. Why, I don't know, probably just too many TV programs. I would practice breathing so shallow that the sheets wouldn't move. As a child it didn't dawn on me that deep breathes were more beneficial than shallow but I couldn't risk being spotted by thugs. Lying there trying to keep my breather to a minimum I felt like I had run a marathon as my chest seemed to rise about a foot above me with each breathe. It was normal breathing but I felt like I was not longer able to practice my lost art of invisibility.

As the machine started the noise began creating a relaxing white noise which brought back even more memories. Growing up on boats, the sound of a diesel engine hummed me to sleep many nights. When our family would take rides on the water I would sit by myself, off somewhere with the noise loud in my ears and sing at the top of my lungs. Only my imaginary fans could hear me and my family didn't have to suffer through my off key concert. My favorite song back then would have been "Blue Velvet" by Bobby Vinton.

Isn't it amazing how not only smells conjure up there old, buried memories but the most unexpected and unusual events can do the same?

Well, the MRI was easy and I had to do my best not to fall asleep to the white noise with backgrounds by the Doobie Brothers and Yes. I left the office with a large envelope full of knee shots looking forward to Tuesday when I will find out why I hobble. I'm pretty sure of the prognosis, PRUDENCE, YOU ARE GETTING OLD.

Senior City Hat - Again

Last time I wore my senior citizen hat I was just pooped out. Now I’m a gimp. Somehow, and I truly don’t know how, I ‘ve done something to my left knee. On Monday, August 18th I got up from my desk to go home, as I have for the past 13 years, and my knee gave out on me. It hurt and I could barely hobble to the car. Luckily Jim was picking me up because I don’t think I could have worked the clutch in my five speed car. Figuring it was just a temporary ailment, I sat down for the rest of the evening with an ice bag on my knee. I repeated this treatment the next night but felt no improvement. On Friday we went out for dinner with Lenny and Linda and I was still hobbling. Jim stopped at Walgreens and bought me a knee brace and a cane. Totally upset to have to use these I argued for quite a while before giving in and using both. By Saturday I was feeling some improvement and like a ninny I walked through IKEA, shopping with my daughter. Anyone who has been there knows that it’s nearly a 5K walk so by the time I got home I was truly sore. We were invited to a wedding reception that night and sadly I couldn’t have even one dance with my husband.

Baylee keeps a watchful eye

on this new "stick" I keep by the door.

So now that I'm over 50 and know that my body is slowing slipping into old age, I gave in and went to the doctor on Tuesday morning. He thinks I may have a torn meniscus so I have an MRI scheduled for this afternoon to diagnose the problem for certain. This is usually an injury for athletes but since I am definitely not a sports person, he said it’s just an “age” problem. This getting old stuff is not for the sissies. I hope to take this hat off soon and get back to one that is much more fun!

Labor Day Weekend - Part Two - My Hard Hat

Notwithstanding my gimpy knee, Jim, Nick and I have hopes to make some home improvements over the upcoming three day weekend. Yes, we'd like to make a party or the fireworks but we also want to rip cabinets from the kitchen wall and create havoc in our home. We are contemplating severe demolition and reconstruction of our living space and have high hopes that it will improve the look of our humble home. Nick is wanting to bring in a bulldozer but I think we'd need a special permit for that action. Like most houses in our little village, we have small, small kitchen. It measures about 12 by 9 feet and we have only about 4 feet of actual counter space. My father owned the house before I inherited it and I had only been in the house once or twice before taking possession after he died. For some unknown reason he paneled the tiny kitchen with dark wood paneling and mismatched oak cabinets. Not only did the dark cabinets seem to shrink the space but he also lowered the ceilings to accommodate the fact that the paneling was only 8 feet high. We've uncovered the ceiling and taken the paneling off all the walls except the one behind the sink and stove. That's our project for this weekend. We will rip off cabinets, looking for the hidden window that neighbors have told us exists. Depending on if and where we find it, I may be adding a new window to the house. We actually found two windows hidden in the living room behind the paneling he had installed on either side of the fireplace. Our house was built in 1937 and has lots of issues.

Wish us luck as we dive in with great expectations for house renovations! After sixteen years of procrastination, we've decided to get our "butts" in gear and make our house look like something on HGTV's hidden potential.

Nick tackling the very, scary ceiling.

Labor Day Weekend

I'm looking forward to the three day weekend and possibly planning a trip down to the fireworks. Cincinnati ends the summer with one of the most amazing fireworks shows in the country, hosted by a local radio station, WEBN and other sponsors. WEBN is now a large station but it started out many years ago as an "underground" station, playing rock and alternative music in the evenings in a program was known as "Jelly Pudding". To celebrate their 10th anniversary they presented a fireworks display on the riverfront which was so popular both sides of the Ohio River were crammed with ooh's and ahh's.

However for the past three years we have spent our Labor Day weekend at a farm in Indiana. The folks who own the farm invite family and friends to a four day camp out filled with arts, crafts and music. They charge no fee but do accept donations. Jim, Nick and his friend Cory and I look forward to this camping weekend as our favorite time of the year. The first year we camped back near the pond in a quiet wooded setting but for the past two years we have pitched our tent near the music. Both years we drifted off to sleep as the amazing Ric Hordinski serenaded us with his magical guitar and vocals. Mornings are broken by the clippity-clop of Amish families riding by in their wagons. Les from Rohs Street Cafe has coffee and pastries to start the morning and the arts and crafts begin when everyone is up and moving around. There is no hurry to the day, however, just the pleasant peace of being in the moment. Past the corn stalks at the pond you can cool off by swimming and or sit in the shade chatting or jamming with folks that you already know. Each year we have met new campers and made friends.

Each year art is created not only individually but as a collaboration of all the guests. One year a peace totem, another year each guest given a canvas with a theme for their painting. The kids have much to do as well with plenty of hands on arts and crafts. One year they created an entire Indian village and another year they painted the side of the barn. Each year there has been a large piece created over the four days and then ignited at the last day. Our favorite was the large paper mache dragon.

Music starts in late afternoon and the concerts host some of the best acoustic artists in the tri-state area. We were able to play an open mic on one of the Sundays and felt honored to sit on the same stage as the other great musicians. Our dear friend, Chris Haubner, shared the stage with Jim and I as we performed the song he wrote for me, Hope for Snow. Kind of a out-of-season song for such a gorgeous sunny day but one we love to perform together.

We will miss the 2008 festival as the family takes a well-deserved break.

We wrote a children's song about the festival with hints of the Amish families and the dragon as we sat outside our tent taking it all in. We had since edited the verses a bit because the original version had a lot of "you had to have been there to get it" references.

Bright Blue Day

Prudence & Jim Hunt - September 2006

The rhythm of the clippity clop, wakes me from my dreaming
Through the window of my tent the sun is finally streaming
I zip out of my bright cocoon and wave a fine good morning
As black and blue and black ride by, to their Sunday joining
It's a bright blue day as we say goodbye to summer
A bright blue day as camp beside our friends
A bright blue day making music with each other
There couldn't be a better way to let the summer end

It rained for days but we don't care it didn’t spoil our pleasure
We built a town of shells and clay and searched for buried treasure
We hiked the trail and saw some deer and even saw a dragon
One afternoon we took a ride in a farmer's wagon

It's a bright blue day as we say goodbye to summer
A bright blue day as camp beside our friends
A bright blue day making music with each other
There couldn't be a better way to let the summer end

It got real hot, but we were not, we cooled off in the river
We found some stick and made a bow and even made a quiver
We practiced shooting targets and then went swimming once again
Our folks thought we were pretty smart and splash, they jumped right in!
It's a bright blue day as we say goodbye to summer
A bright blue day as camp beside our friends
A bright blue day making music with each other
There couldn't be a better way to let the summer end

It was a lot less fun when the trip was done to pack our tents away
We had so many things to do we wished that we could stay
But we won’t be sad for very long and we won’t shed a tear
Cause my folks said that we are coming back to this same place next year!
It's a bright blue day as we say goodbye to summer
A bright blue day as camp beside our friends
A bright blue day making music with each other
There couldn't be a better way to let the summer end

Ceilidh Night

During a morning show today, host Meredith Viera presented a segment in which she went back to her roots on an island near Portugal. During the trip she joined the villagers in a "Folklore Night." There was food, singing, music and dancing. We have hosted nights of music, food and poetry since 1991 which we call "ceilidhs". Ceilidh is a Scottish Gaelic word for such a night which I found while checking into my Scottish heritage. "An evening of music, food and conversation around the peat fire... the word was the description I wanted for ours although we do without the peat fire which is sometimes replaced by a lovely blaze in a fireplace. About once a month we gather at our home or the home of a friend with guitars, mandolins, bouzouki's, fiddles and other instruments in hand. We eat for a while, chat for a while and then the instruments come out and we sing and play music until the wee hours. Ceilidhs came over with the early settlers and evolved into the American Hootenanny. By any name, the tradition is still the same. We are blessed to have many friends who help us keep this tradition alive. I love learning of these gatherings in so many countries and cultures and hope to learn of more.

I wrote Ceilidh Night in 2001

Ceilidh Night

Move the sofa and the chairs, making room for friends
Line the cases in the hall, it's ceilidh night again
Vickie rosins up her bow, Jan gets out her saw
Eggs and shakers and tapping feet, there are instruments for all
Friends are gathered with music to share
A poem a story, it's a lively affair,
Tried and true or timid and new, All are playing on this ceilidh night
Pam and Spencer try a tune they wrote just yesterday
Eric does a sing-a-long so everyone can play
Jackie sings her song of birds and Tracy makes us cry
Chris reads us a poem he wrote and Pru sings a lullaby
Friends are gathered with music to share
A poem a story, it's a lively affair,
Tried and true or timid and new, All are playing on this ceilidh night
Lennie takes us back a while with songs from bygone days
Fred will sing the blues tonight as George sits in and plays
Songs from John or Madeline then Papa makes us smile
Jim will add his baritone but he can only stay awhile
Friends are gathered with music to share
A poem a story, it's a lively affair,
Tried and true or timid and new, All are playing on this ceilidh night
Martin, Taylor, Alverez, Ovation, Groen, Guild
We've seen all types of instruments a Luthier would build
Concertinas, psaltery harps, banjos and mandolins
No concert could be better than a concert here with friends
So light the candles, stir the stew and put some biscuits in
Move the sofa and the chairs, its ceilidh night again

My Pilot Hat - Part Three

Although my official lessons were over, once I moved to Florida I still was able to fly. I felt more confident being in planes with friends since I knew I could take the controls and even land if they became unconscious for some unknown reason. (That's what always happened in movies)

Dyan and I would take her airplane out on afternoons and fly to Key West. We would taxi onto the runway at Ft. Lauderdale Airport, very close to the commercial jets and wait our turn to take off. I had a set of headphones to listen with Dyan to the tower but I still couldn't figure out what they were saying. After we ascended and had flown over Miami, Dyan would let me fly the plane most of the way. It was so exciting to just follow the thin stretch of land down to Key West. However, on one such flight, Dyan grabbed the stick and pulled up very sharply. Another plane had come out of a cloud and was much too close to us. We didn't have the control tower telling us "traffic at 11 o'clock", just Dyan's sharp eyes.

On one of our trips home from Bimini we discovered the radio was not working just as we climbed away from the airport. It was pins and needles as we neared Ft. Lauderdale but the guardian angels were with us and the radio started working about five minutes before we had to report to the tower.

I have never lost my dislike of planes. I did, however, learn it wasn't as much the fear of flying as the claustrophobia of being confined in an airliner. I originally thought small planes were more comfortable and as Bill had once told me, if the engine stops in a small plane, you can glide them back to earth. If a jetliner stops, it just plain falls down. Sadly, he wasn't exactly correct about the gliding. Three pilots I have known have perished in their planes. One "glided" into a mountain, another "glided" into the end of the runway at Bimini and my dear friend, Dyan, went down near Grand Turk Island and was never found. She evidently glided pretty well because her plane and life raft were spotted. There will always be a mystery to the story. Somehow Dyan was lost to the sea and never found.

Nowadays I only fly if there's no other way to get there. Give me a good road trip any day. I know its more dangerous than flying but I still feel more comfortable being closer to terra firma.

My Pilot Hat - Part Two

One might think that the first experience as a student pilot would have been enough to keep me away but soon I was back at the air field, this time knowing what to expect. I dressed more comfortably in a bathing suit with shorts remembering how hot the inside of the plane was as we sat on the runway. The air would cool off the higher you climbed but the wait for take off could be more than twenty or thirty minutes.

After we went over the required class time studying aeronautics, I grabbed my cushions and headed for the Sundowner. Following the checklist, we went over the preflight details and then climbed into the tiny cockpit. I was ready for that thrill of take off, confident that my instructor (let's call him Bill) was right about getting us out of any peril and we took off. As we climbed toward the east the tower came on and said that we had traffic at 11 o'clock. TRAFFIC! What the heck would we do? I scanned the sky but saw nothing. Bill calmly pointed out a tiny, little speck, way, way off in the sky. The plane was not even close but the tower had to let us know. With the relief of avoiding a midair collision we headed up river, toward the huge cooling towers sitting on the banks of the Ohio. Bill taught me to bank the plane, fixing my wing on a spot below and then turning the plane sideways and coming around the spot. This day the spot was the cooling towers at Beckjord. We'd bank one way, then come around and bank the other. Before long I was starting to turn green and feeling quite nauseous. As usual, Bill calmly just told me to head back to the airport. I landed much smoother this time, actually above the correct runway and prompted ran to the office to hurl.

My third lesson was equally hot and equally nauseating. The lesson of the day was to work on maintaining altitude. I handled this task remarkably well and was given an "A" for my consistency. I told Bill that I had grown up handling the rudders of boats and he explained the correlation and said that could be why I was able to fly so smoothly. I believed that it was only so I'd be less sick. As I started to turn green again, we headed back, still not making the entire 45 minutes of my lesson.

Between lessons I had to fly home from Cleveland in a small commuter plane. The company I was with had driven us up and decided to let us take an airline instead of having someone come back up for us. I was excited as we boarded and I saw the tiny plane had no co-pilot. I showed the pilot my student license and he offered me the co-pilot seat. It was too good to be true! I climbed in the seat and immediately was overwhelmed by the gauges, lights and instrumentation. Even more overwhelming was the fact that I was even shorter in this airplane and couldn't even see over the instrument console! If I stretched I could look out of the side window but I had to lean hard against my seat belt. To top it all, when we did take off and were in the air, the pilot put the plane on autopilot and proceeded to read a magazine. So much for learning from the professionals. He offered to make a note in my pilot log but I didn't figure it would matter much.

My fourth lesson was also my final lesson. I learned how to stall. I have never like roller coasters and don't enjoy rides at amusement parks. None of them could have come close to forcing a perfectly good airplane to stop in mid-air, just so you could drop your nose and head for the earth, hoping that it would jump start the engine. When the stall buzzer started to buzz, my stomach would sink and I would have to force myself to aim the airplane into a stall. Bill cautioned me to keep it straight and not go into a spin. HA! Why would I want to do that? Certain that I was about to throw up all over him, he decided that we would make the stall lesson a short one and we headed back to the airport. As my girls ran towards me proud that their mother could fly and airplane, I was thinking about how crazy I was.

My next lesson would have been to wear a hood which prevents you from seeing outside the plane and promotes the use of instruments. My lack of height had already produced "hood" lessons and I said goodbye to my instructor. As usual, Bill chuckled and said that he never thought I would have gotten as far as I had. There was no solo in my future! Especially since I couldn't stop the plane when we landed!

My Pilot Hat - Part One

I've listed quite a few hats I've worn over the years but some of them were not worn long. Take for instance my pilot hat. No, I'm not talking about riverboat pilot, I am referring to my short lived flying experiences.

I have never enjoyed flying and back in the late 70's it would drink a couple good shots of Crown Royal before I could board a plane. My friend, Dyan, lived in Florida and would send me tickets from time to time to visit her. I'd stop by the airport bar, throw back my whiskey, then somehow force myself onto the plane chanting my mantra "It will be okay!". Dyan would laugh at my trepidation because she owned her own plane and flew regularly. When I'd visit with her, all of her friends were also pilots and we would take flights around Miami and the nearby islands! Dyan finally decided that the best way to get me over my fear of flying was to learn how to fly.

Dyan tying down her high wing Cessna

With birthday and Mother's Day money I went to Lunken Airport and signed up for lessons. My stepfather even threw in a couple bucks and told me that he had taken flying lessons and had a pilot's license for air long before his pilot's license for the river. Oh, how little our parents tell us of their youth. Unfortunately he also told me that sitting on the runway, waiting for his turn to take off, the student pilot in front of him went up and then immediately back down, killing himself and his instructor. He decided that the odds were now in his favor and continued his lessons. Yikes! What was I getting myself in to?

I sat through some one-on-one class time and then we headed for the plane. Dyan and insisted that I fly a "low winger". My instructor taught me how to preflight a Beechcraft Sundowner and we climbed in. First problem, my legs were too short to reach the pedals. We went back into the lounge area and pulled two cushions off one of the sofas and he placed one behind me and I sat on the other. I could reach the pedals, just barely. Like rudders on a boat, the pedals not only brake, they also turn the airplane right and left. The joystick actually banks and turns the plane at angles. We sat in the cockpit, wearing headsets, waiting for the tower to ask questions and give directions. I had been beside Dyan on many flights as she chatted with the tower and I wrongly assumed that it was clear communication. However, when I sat next to my instructor, he answered their questions and I had no idea of what either of them were saying! I asked him once if he was frightened to fly with new students. He said that there was nothing I could get us into that he couldn't get us out of. Somehow I wasn't too confident in that statement.

Nonetheless, we sat on the runway, dripping with sweat, waiting our turn to fly. (Its hot in the cockpit until you are in the air) As he and the tower talked gibberish I gave the plane some gas and she shimmied, eager for the sky. When we finally were given the go ahead, I piloted her down the runway, giving her all the power she needed as she jumped along, finally taking off. As she took off into the air, it all became clear. The take-off is the thrill that latches on and makes you love to fly. Climbing into the air, it was hard to focus on the switches and wheels and ailerons and trim and all the other parts and pieces of flying. I just wanted to look out my side window, past the wing and watch the world go by. I mention the side window because I was too short to see out of the front window as we ascended. The control panel was taller than my head and my instructor laughed and said, "IF you could see the horizon, you would head along the river due east". Luckily as I trimmed the nose after the climb and sustained altitude, I could pull myself up just enough to get a glimpse of where I was headed. Most of my land direction was through my left hand window. My first flight was short and sweet and we headed back to Lunken. Coming in to land was terrifying! We got closer and closer to the runway as my instructor said, "Prudence, the run way's over here" pointing to his right. The stupidest thing a student pilot does is turn the "wheel" (joystick) in the direction you want to go. Turning the wheel to the right causes you to bank to the right or in other words, to turn the plane on its side. He patiently corrected my mistake and with my feet I turned the plane toward the correct runway and with a bounce or two landed the plane on solid ground. However, my next problem was that even with the cushion behind me, I couldn't put the brakes in far enough to stop the plane! Once again my instructor took over and brought us to a stop. I was soaking wet from the heat in the cockpit and the fear and exhilaration that I felt after completing my first lesson.

Jim and the girls were waiting to greet me when we came back to the office after shutting down and tying off the plane. Jim drove home as I sat in the car, recalling the entire lesson, shaking like a leaf!

Why Blog?

My Idaho series of blogs prompted a few questions and comments. Nearly all were positive but there was at least one questioning the need to talk about something from so long ago. Well, first and foremost, blogging to me is like therapy. I have been scanning photos from my youth up through the days before I came back to this area. If I should "pass" in less than my hopeful 30+ more years, I would like to leave memories and history behind for my daughters and grandchildren. When my mother and grandmother passed, they took with them information, memories, and history and left me with many unanswered questions and boxes of photographs and mementos that are a mystery. I hate to throw them away, not knowing the connection, but what do I do with unknowns?

As therapy, its absolutely cheaper than going to a shrink and writing a blog is like talking to a totally objective entity. No judgments, it just listens. There are, of course, no answers or feedback either but sometimes you get your own by seeing your life before you in print and in photos.

Scanning the photos of my early life triggers memories that were long forgotten. Luckily for my personal therapy, almost all of the photos are of happy days so it keeps me from dwelling on sad and unpleasant times. Quite selfishly, I can also just scan the life memories I want and keep the others somewhere in a box.

As I look at old photos from before I was born, it makes me wonder what our family was like when my mother was young. I love this photo of her, sitting on a bike with my Aunt Sheila standing nearby. I can create my own story, true or imaginary, about what a happy life she had. It's the way I like to remember my mother....happy.

Home at Last - Day Three

Although Chandra enjoyed the rest and said the hospital food was rather tasty, she was glad to be home with Kalee. All three siblings, three cousins and Mimi (me) were waiting at the door to meet and greet. Kalee slept through all the commotion deciding she'd wait until after lunch to say hello and get to know the rest of the family.

I'm beginning to see a lot of me in this baby! Did you notice all of her lovely brown hair and the wrinkly forehead?

Kalee Florence Buswell - Day Two

Newsflash.. Kalee is so overjoyed to be born she throws her arms up in triumph.


After hours of "when can we see the baby?" I drove Megan, Chase and Brody to the hospital to visit their mom and dad and of course, the star herself, Kalee. Each sibling surrounded her with "me first" but soon were taking their turns holding and kissing on their new little sister. Kalee and mom were doing well but decided one more day in the hospital might be a very good idea so they could both get some rest. Poor daddy was about 18" too long for the rollaway bed in the room but he hung in there and spent another night with Chandra and Kalee. Megan and Chase had sport activities to attend during the day as well as school orientation so the visit was brief. Nick and his two brothers joined us at the Buswell house in the evening and Jim and I fed and referreed six kids before collapsing into bed ourselves. We couldn't be happier to have so many grandkids but excuse us if you see us doozing off from time to time during the Leo or other activities.

Proud Dad and Mom

My daughter Chandra was a brave soul and delivered Kalee using no drugs!!! I did that when I had her but that was because Chandra was my first and I had no idea of what I was getting into. With Star I just asked for all the drugs they could give me. Kalee is Chandra's fourth so she knew quite well what to expect and still decided to go natural. I was so proud of her decision but as a mother it was difficult to watch her discomfort and pain. Chandra, however, delivered quite quickly and was a trooper. The most nervous person in the room was her daughter, Megan, aged 13. My son-in-law, Justin, was very calming and right before the birth put in a Beatles CD. Kalee was born to the sounds of "Little Help From My Friends." I only recall Chandra making three or four big pushes before the final, successive push. She made it look pretty easy.

Kalee Florence

Yesterday morning we were thrilled to add a new grandchild to our wonderful collection. Kalee Florence Buswell was born at 10:14 a.m. on August 13th, weighing 8 lbs. 14 oz. and was 21 1/2 inches long. The most nervous person in the room was her daughter, Megan, aged 13. You could see the immediate big sister bond develop the moment she saw little Kalee being placed in her mother's arms. Chandra is doing quite well and will rest in the hospital for a couple days. Justin is staying at the hospital with her and we have their other three kids at our house. As you can see from the photos, they love their new sister. Megan wanted to stay at the hospital with her mom and hold Kalee whenever she made a peep. Brody's reaction was too sweet for words. Chase thought she was pretty cool and reacted like a normal 9 year old boy. He held her but not long enough for me to take his picture. I'll try for one another day.

The photo of Brody seeing his sister for the first time speaks for itself.

And Cowboys, Too! - Idaho, 1982

When I told the owners about the incident they informed me that they weren't surprised. I was a woman alone, claiming to have a husband that no one ever saw, and after two months at the campground, the men who lived around just thought I told them that to keep them away. At the time we lived in Idaho, there were 10 men for every woman so they weren't shy about trying to make a catch. Even Frank who worked at the campground thought I was lying to him and told me it hurt his feelings. When Chuck did finally get to Idaho, Frank and a local doctor who kept asking me for a date, had a great laugh about it all.
I managed to do two things that got me into hot water with my (ex) husband. The KOA was creating a new publicity brochure and they asked Frank and I to pose as a couple in their hot tub. We sat there, holding a glass of ginger ale in champagne flutes and giggled about the silliness of the whole ordeal. We were down in the hot tub with only our heads sticking out and with my makeup starting to melt from the steam and my hair plastered against my head no one could have found me very attractive in that shot!!!

The second was to just stand on the street with my rancher/ski instructor friend, Ginny, watching the Fourth of July parade down Main Street in Hailey, with two cute cowboys standing behind us as my mother took our picture. I never noticed them and they probably never noticed us but my (ex) husband did and he never believed that I wasn't steppin' out with the cowboys. Cowboys have a pretty rugged yet overly romanticized reputation. Ginny knew all the local cowboys and told me to keep my distance. They, like the miners, loved to let off steam on a Friday night. There was actually a bar in the nearby town of Bellevue with a sign by the front door ordering all the cowboys to check their guns and knives before entering. Like the miners, a few beers and a good bar fight were considered a good time in the wilds of Idaho.

After mom left in late July, the stress of being so far from everyone I knew started taking its toll. Chuck was screaming at me on the phone constantly, sure I was being unfaithful and making me dread his arrival. I developed a horrible tick in my right eye whenever I spoke to anyone. This tick was constant but when I was calmer, it was not as noticeable. Whenever I was anxious it would make the right side of my face wiggle like jello. Miraculously, when I left Chuck in 1988, the tick left, too.

Lions, Miners & Bears, Oh My! - Part Two, Idaho, 1982

More real and more frightening than the bears, mountain lions and the wolverines were the miners. Far in the back of the campground was the tent area and beyond that the sites where the miners lived. Idaho is still a large mining state, filled with silver and gold mines as well as copper and other precious metals.

Long before the days of cell phones, I would make weekly collect calls to my (ex) husband who was still in Florida late in the evening before the KOA office closed. If Chuck needed to get a message to me, Frank or one of the owners would knock on my door to let me know that Chuck was on the line and I would run to the office. One evening a bit after 11:00 p.m. as the girls were tucked in their bunks, I heard a loud knock on the Airstream door. Angel was asleep nearby but being accustomed to the noise of other campers coming and going, she didn't bark that often. I swung the door open sure that it was an emergency call from Chuck but to my surprise a stranger started into the trailer. One of the miners, drunk as they often were by Friday night, came barging in towards me. I was too scared and confused to scream. Angel, the attack trained doberman who had protected the Florida dive shop for years, sprung into action. Luckily for the miner, Angel was taught to snap against the skin and not bite until commanded. As she snapped at the miner's throat, he was the one who screamed! Angel left quite a few scratches before chasing him out the door. He ran like hell back to the miner's camping area and we never knew which of the men it was. Needless to day, none of them ever came knocking again.

Lions, Miners & Bears - Oh, My! - Part One- Idaho, 1982

Although the summer was quite an exciting experience, there were a few things that made it less than perfect. First of all, there were meteor showers during the summer but unfortunately I was too terrified to go outside and enjoy them. Why? Bears, mountain lions, wolverines and miners. When we took day trips to the Sawtooth Mountains you had to check in with the Ranger Station. When you did, they gave you a brochure on what to do if you encounter a grizzly bear. That was scary enough but reading the local and regional newspapers brought that fear home! The first month we lived there we read about a mountian lion running up and snatching a woman's poodle right off the leash. Worse was the story of a grizzly bear dragging a sleeping woman from her tent, still in her sleeping bag. We were also warned about wolverines because pound for pound they are the most fercious of the mountain creatures.

Summer of Fun in Idaho - 1982

My mom stayed in Idaho with us for two months. My stepdad, Lou, was working on a towbaot and sent his blessings for her to have a good time. Mom and I would take the girls to the rodeo and on Friday evenings there would be a gun fight on Main Street in Hailey so we bought wonderful western outfits including boots and hats for all. On the Fourth of July there was a large parade and a community wide picnic. You paid $3 for a button and you would wonder around and eat all day long including the best roast pig I had ever tasted. Later in the summer we enjoyed the Rocky Mountain Folk Festival with special guest, Richie Havens! While we were at the KOA we made friends with some of the people who lived at the campground. A young husband and wife lived in a yellow school bus with their baby daughter. The bus had been cleared out and the inside was now a cozy home with beds, kitchen and a play area for the baby. The owners of the campground lived in a trailer nearby. There was a groundskeeper named Frank who lived behind the main building. He was very nice to us and took us sailing on Red Fish Lake with his parents. Sailing on Redfish Lake was wonderful. The water in the lake was ice cold all the time and we froze our feet just walking around some of the streams that dump into it. I was about halfway across one of them with Carrie on my back when my feet got so cold I couldn't move them any further. Frank and his parents pulled us the rest of the way over after putting Chandra on the other side. I learned a valuable lesson about the water that day. Mom would walk the doberman, Angel, in the mornings and on one beautiful cool morning she woke us up to see sheep being herded up the railroad tracks. The sheep and cattle have the right of way in the street during herding season up to the mountains and when possible, they would use the railroad tracks. This particular morning there were thousands of sheep walking up the tracks, making their little sheep noises as they went. What a sight that was for a city girl! A few afternoons we would go horseback riding at Gelana Summit and on Saturday evenings during the Summer there would be ice skating shows at historic the Sun Valley Ice Rink.

Idaho at Last

On the ninth day of our journey we pulled into the KOA at Ketchum, Idaho. I had reservations for the entire summer and the family that owned the campground came out to the gate to welcome us. The husband told us to get out of the camper and go inside for a cold drink while he set us up. Not only did he back our camper into the spot we had reserved but he hooked up our water and other hoses and put out our awning. When we walked to our site with the wife of the team we were overjoyed to see the lovely spot they had given us with a large tree for shade and the Wood River just a few feet from the camper's back window. They walked us aruond the camp which was overflowing with campers of every size and description. They explained that many of the campers had spots in Arizona and New Mexico where they stayed in the winter and then they would move to Idaho for the summer.

We were in Idaho, finally, and it was time to start a new life in such a strange but beautiful world. The first mission in our new life was to go into town and buy some clothes!!! After two years in Florida, we had shorts and summer clothes and were not prepared for the nights that dipped down into the 40's. We went to a ski shop in Sun Valley and bought turtlenecks and sweat pants. We would end up changing clothes a few times a day because of the temperature differences. One day in July, we had a hail storm. Luckily I was near the Airstream and was able to stand under our awning brushing the hail off as the awning sagged drastically. Many of our neighboring campers were not so lucky and you could hear the ripping of the awnings. The temperature dropped from over 80 degrees to 40 degrees in a matter of five minutes. The girls had been at the pool with my mom and came running for blankets!

During the summer of 1982 I had only one duty and that was to find a house. My (ex) husband had to stay in Florida to see his real estate and business and I was free to have fun with my mother and daughters. Chuckie was due to arrive in Idaho just before school started and his sister, Jackie had chosen to stay with her mother in New Mexico.

Our days were filled with traveling around and sightseeing. We rode horses near Galena Summit and visited little ghost towns near Stanely, Idaho. There were skating shows every Saturday night at the Sun Valley Lodge where many of America's best skaters would spend their summers. We were having the time of our lives!

Heading West - Day Eight

We drove through the breathtaking beauty of Utah and finally reached the great state of Idaho. Much to our dismay the landscape became quite flat and boring. Far off in the north you could see the tiny ridge line of the great Rockies. Sadly outhern Idaho is what most people driving across the United State see when they are heading west to east or vice versa. When we reached Twin Falls we were quite shocked to see how deep the Snake River gorge really is! How did those early pioneers get across? The surprising part is that you have absolutely no idea that a large crack in the earth is up ahead until you are on its rim. We stopped for the night just outside of Twin Falls with the plan once again to reach our destination in the early part of the day instead of late in the evening.

Heading West - Day Seven

After a lovely, home-cooked breakfast, Mom, Carrie, Chandra and I would proceed north towards Idaho. As we drove through New Mexico, Arizona and Utah the scenery just became more and more breath-taking. My mother loved Louis Lamore novels and she said it was just like being transported into one of his stories. We drove across Indian reservations and felt guilty when we saw where the American government had placed these proud Americans.

My favorite night of the trip was in Moab, Utah. It was hot and the area was all red dust and rock formations. We stopped at a lonely little KOA in the middle of the desert area and mom and the girls tried to swim for a while. The air was at least 100 degrees but the water in the pool was ice cold. Mountain run off from underground springs fed the pool and the girls could only stay in the water for a few minutes at a time. I decided I’d rather be hot!

The full moon rose from behind one of the large rock formations that night and I have never been able to find words descriptive enough to describe the beauty of that moonrise. I was speechless and just sat outside the Airstream until I could no longer stay awake.

Heading West - Day Six

The next morning we made it to Nancy's house. Nancy was my current husband's ex-wife and mother of Chuckie and Jackie. She had remarried and moved to Albuquerque with her new huband and his five children. Chuckie and Jackie had remained in Florida with us to finish their school year. Nancy and I got along quite well and early one we all decided what was best for the kids was the game plan we would take. The entire family made us very welcome when we arrived and on the one day we were there, they took us sightseeing. Nancy's husband, Frank, was from New Mexico and insisted we visit the Scandia Peaks. We rode the tram to the top of the Scandia Mountain and watched hang-gliders riding the air currents. It was cool on top of the mountain and the view was breath-taking.

Heading West - Day Five

On the fifth day we we continued westward and stopped for the night at the KOA in Tucumcari, New Mexico. We were fairly close to our first destination but we didn’t know where we would be able to park the Airstream once we arrived in Albuquerque. We certainly didn’t want to tackle a strange city at night. We thought it might be better to enjoy one last campsite before dropping off my stepchildren, Chuckie and Jackie, in Albuquerque to spend the rest of the summer with their mom. As we drove through the sandy desert of New Mexico, we thought the landscape was boring and desolate. When we stopped at the KOA we had a little time walk around and admire the landscape. The sagebrush had a sweet, earthy smell and the desert flowers were petite and colorful. The day had been hot but dry and the evening was fresh and cool. The KOA sponsored a sing-along at a community campfire. We enjoyed the music for a few minutes but the kids were so excited about our first stop in the morning so we headed to an early bedtime.

Heading West - Day Four

The third day we drove through Texas and didn’t get out of the van any more than we absolutely needed. The temperature was in excess of 100° and the kids whimpered and whined when I asked them to stand in front of the Welcome to Texas monument to take a photo. The enormity of the state was realized after we spent all of the day driving through the largest continental state. We decided to have dinner after the sun when down and we could park the Airstream and enjoy cooler temperatures. However, I missed the turn off by Ft. Worth/Dallas and we circled that city for over two hours. By the time I finally spotted the exit we had been trying to find, reached our campground, set up and found a place to eat that was still open, it was 2 a.m. Hungry stomachs created some unruly kids and one impatient Doberman looking for a spot of grass!

Heading West - Days Two and Three

We were up with the sun on Day Two. The kids had a quick breakfast while we packed up and unhooked our water and electric from the campsite. After a short chat with the KOA owners we filled our cups with fresh coffee and left the sweet smelling pines. We had made plans to stop in Mobile, Alabama to tour the U.S.S. Alabama. We needed these little side trip because we didn’t want to spend all day, everyday, just driving. With four kids, my mother, a Doberman named Angel and a cat named Stormy we needed to stop quite often. After touring the decommissioned naval ship and WWII era submarine, we did our best to get out of Alabama. It wasn't that we didn't like the state but there was a swampy, gassy smell to which our noses just could not aclimate. We stopped for lunch at a Wendy's but not one had an appetite with the sulfer smell burning their noses. How did the residents deal with this day after day?


As our trip headed northwest on day three, we drove through Oklahoma. About mid-day we encountered a wind storm that shook the van and caused the Airstream to shimmy and shake. My mother told the kids to sit tight and be quiet as we tried to find somewhere to pull off and wait out the wind. Next thing we knew along with the rocking and rolling we had hard, fast drumming. The awning which had been rolled up tight in its frame unfurled and started flapping against the side of the trailer. With no other option we pulled off to the side of the road to try and find a way to remedy our chaos. Neither mom nor I could reach the top of the Airstream so we had to come up with a plan to gain some height. Angel’s food was being transported in a galvanized metal garbage can so we grabbed it and the swivel chair from inside and with the help of the kids holding us steady mom and I climbed up on the chair/garbage can and rolled up the awning. Our next problem was how to secure the awning so it didn’t blow open again. My mother sent Chuckie to find the duct tape under the sink and said to me “You dad always said that duct tape has 1,001 uses. This will become 1,002.” We got back on the road laughing and shaking our heads in disbelief over what had just happened. When we finally spied a rest area, the wind had stopped but we needed to make a pit stop anyway. The rest area was quite full and all the pull-throughs were occupied. The kids kept insisting that they had to “go” so I had to figure out where to put the long rig. I pulled over near the 18-wheelers and saw one spot that would require backing in. As I got out to sum up the situation a trucker jumped out of his rig, strutted over and said, “Hey, little lady, ya need me to park that for ya?” He chuckled and winked at two other truckers standing nearby. That was all I needed after the experience on the highway so I told mom to take the kids to the restrooms and I jumped in the driver’s seat and somehow, and I truly don’t know how, I backed that rig into the long parking spot. It took a few tries and quite a bit of jockeying but as the truckers laughed their heads off at what they had just witnessed, I strutted to the restroom with a promise to myself to learn how to park that rig on a dime.

Procrastination?

I truly am not procastinating nor ignoring my blogs, I've just been very busy. We spent lunchtime Tuesday at Piatt Park enjoying the Midlife Crisis Ramblers and in the evening we sat in with Tim Kelly at the Claddagh at Newport on the Levee. On Wednesday my granddaughter and I took time to see Mamma Mia at the theater near us. We highly recommend it for an evening of fun. On Thursday we enjoyed lunch on Fountain Square listening to Mick McEvilley and Fred Steffen. It was great to see Fred after so long. He's been busy and we've missed his music. That evening I sat at the WNKU booth for the final Behringer Crawford Coffee Cup Concert. This evening I am emceeing the final Edensong Concert of this year's series. That is if I do not recieve the call that my granddaughter has chosen Friday, August 1st to be born!!!! We have the two concerts at the Children's Museum at the Cincinnati Museum Center on Saturday and the Dublin Irish Festival on Sunday - again unless Kalee shows up and/or its not too hot.

Stay tuned, there will be more blogs!! I just have to find time to fit work in with my play. I've a lot to say!

Don't I always ;)