I’m not a great photographer, but I had to try to capture the hand print left on the glass door of our shower by my nearly two-year-old granddaughter. She and her mother, who live more than a 1000 miles away, … Continue reading
Just got back from Delta Junction, Alaska. The view of the mountains is incredible!
We train ’em young!
I overheard a middle-aged man ask somewhat rhetorically, “Why don’t women want to be called grandma anymore?” I don’t know where he’s been hanging out, but I know plenty of women who love being called grandma. While, I love being a grandma, it’s not the name my grandchildren use, so I’ll answer his question.
First of all, it’s not about pride. I don’t think people look at me and think “grandma,” but they’re also not surprised to learn I am one. I’m certainly within the age range, and I’m content with that fact. I readily admit to being a grandma so I can talk to you about my granddaughters until your eyes roll. I proudly carry their photos and am ready to whip them out at the slightest mention. Consider yourself warned!
It is, however, a matter of practicality. Babies cannot say grandma. As they approach their first birthday, they can say simple syllables such as da, ma, ha (translated “hi”) and ba (translated “bye”). Between the ages of one and two, they add more words to their vocabulary, like mine and everyone’s favorite, NO!
We make it easy for these little budding linguists to say grandpa, by shortening it to “papa.” However, you can’t shorten “grandma” in the same manner. Babies have ONE “mama” and that’s a sacred relationship.
So, being the practical person that I am, I went in search of a name my grandchildren could pronounce – something simple. I know a few grandmas who are referred to as Mimi. Cute, simple and easy to pronounce, but that’s what my son called me as he was transitioning from saying mama to mommy. Somehow that didn’t seem right, and it’s also the name my son’s mother-in-law chose to use.
With my usual *finesse, I searched the internet and found a site that provides the word for grandma in other languages. I’m the first to admit that I’m pretty much a mixture of anything and everything Northern European. I’m Irish, English, German and Flemish with a tad-bit of Cherokee thrown in. In other words, I’m a mutt. However, since my Irish heritage is strongest, I looked up the Gaelic word for grandma. I found the following translation and definition: seanmháthair, literally meaning “old mother.” Children would not be likely to address a grandmother by this term. They would use instead Maimeó or Móraí.
It’s self-evident that I’m an “old mother,” so I chose not to have my grandchildren announce that fact every time they called my name. Besides, seanmháthair is even tougher to pronounce than grandma. I clicked the on the pronunciation of maimeó and heard, maw-moh. Okay, we have a winner!
My husband and I are Poppa and Mamo, respectively, and our almost two-year-old granddaughter has no problem saying either name. She actually demonstrated this for the congregation at church as her mother was taking her to the nursery midway through the sermon. As they were leaving the sanctuary we heard her strong, sweet voice saying, “Buh-bye, Poppa! Buh-bye, Mamo!” Her mother may have been slightly embarrassed, but it was one of the proudest moments of my life.
*finesse (skill, flair, grace elegance, poise, assurance)
I grew up in the era of door-to-door sales. It’s pretty uncommon today, but I can clearly remember my mother wanting to hide from those peddlers of vacuums, cleaning products, and encyclopedias. However, one door-to-door salesperson was always welcome; the Avon lady.
I used to love watching the Avon lady unpack her bag with the latest fragrances in the most unusual decanters. Men’s cologne in a bottle shaped like a car was the perfect Father’s Day gift. And who wouldn’t want to collect the bride and groom figurines filled with your choice of Moonwind, Occur, or my personal favorite, Sweet Honesty? From perfume to makeup to jewelry, Avon had it all and brought it conveniently to your living room!
A few years after I married, I came home from work and found a plastic bag attached to my front door with a familiar logo. The Avon lady had visited! I began pouring over the pages of the catalog and marking items I’d long forgotten that I needed. I called the number on the back of the catalog and placed my order. Thus began a friendship with my Avon lady, Eileen.
Eileen was about my mother’s age and had the greatest Canadian accent. She was always dressed very nicely and accessorized with the latest Avon jewelry. Her makeup was flawless. She was a living, breathing advertisement for her company. She was also very personable. Not long after I met Eileen, we became neighbors. The husband and I purchased the home next door to her and her husband Hec.
Over the five or six years we were neighbors, we had the opportunity to learn more about this interesting couple. Hec had served in the Canadian Army during World War II, and Eileen had moved to Washington, D.C. to work as a secretary assisting in the war effort. They immigrated to the United States in the early 1960s (which was quite the story!). Our friendship and bond was solidified when Hec had a heart attack and my husband performed CPR until Hec could be transported to the hospital.
Shortly afterward, we moved from that neighborhood, and Hec and Eileen moved a few years later, as well. Our contact was reduced to the occasional Avon purchase and Christmas cards. We were excited to attend Hec’s 80th birthday party and had a great time catching up. As we left, we promised to visit more often.
Unfortunately, we waited too long to fulfill that promise and Hec passed away. We were out of town during his funeral, which made it worse. We missed our window of opportunity. We vowed to not make that mistake with Eileen. However, time has a way of passing, and before we knew it, six years had passed.
We took action a few weeks ago and met Eileen for breakfast. She hasn’t changed. She’s moved to a retirement center, which is a little like a resort. Her apartment is small, but she was able to fit in many of the things she cherishes, including her grandfather clock and of course, her Avon collectibles.
The days of door-to-door sales has past. In fact, most of us can easily purchase almost anything we want or need online without any personal interaction. Although it’s extremely convenient, it’s also a little sad. Nothing really compares to that one-on-one we got from our Avon lady. She lived in our town and knew our neighbors. She provided the latest information about everything from road construction to the newest restaurants. She was a fixture in our lives. Best of all, my Avon lady became my friend.
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Spring, you’re back! You’ve been missed. Hope you stick around for a while!
I don’t know if I read this somewhere or just came to it on my own, but if your table looks great when dinner guests arrive, they don’t pay attention to your last minute “I’m so behind” preparations. There’s an … Continue reading
I’m not a mathematician. I breakout into a sweat and get knots in my stomach at the very thought of balancing an equation. Solving for an unknown is fun if I’m reading a mystery, but becomes terrifying if I have to assign a value to x or y.
I passed algebra in junior and senior high school, but just barely. I have no idea how I got through college level algebra (with an A no less!), but when you’re paying for a class out of your own pocket, something miraculous kicks in.
On the other hand, the husband kind of likes math. He’s uses it in his work and was the one who helped me see the reason for the pesky x and y in equations. Heck, I didn’t even undertand that you didn’t have to use x or y! You can put the smiley face emoticon in the equation instead of an x or y. Wouldn’t that be more interesting? At least it would bring a little creativity to math!
So, if I’m really not that into math, why write about it? Because it’s Pi Day, the annual celebration commemorating the mathematical constant π (pi)! I’m always surprised at how many people understand what pi is, but if you’re unfamiliar or have forgotten, here’s a pretty simple explanation from Math.com.
“Pi is a name given to the ratio of the circumference of a circle to the diameter. That means, for any circle, you can divide the circumference (the distance around the circle) by the diameter and always get exactly the same number. It doesn’t matter how big or small the circle is, Pi remains the same. Pi is often written using the symbol π and is pronounced “pie”, just like the dessert.”
For me, the last few words of the explanation are all that matter, but to properly understand why we commemorate the day on March 14, one more detail is necessary. Pi is an irrational number, meaning that the digits never end or repeat in any known way. (Irrational numbers! Imaginary numbers! Oh, the joys of math!) The first three digits are 3.14, which is why Pi Day is observed on March 14 (or 3/14 in month/day format),
The earliest known Pi Day celebration was held in 1988 at the San Francisco Exploratorium, with staff and public marching around one of its circular spaces, followed by the eating of pi(e). On March 12, 2009, the U.S. House of Representatives (presumably because they had nothing better to do) passed a non-binding resolution (HRES 224), recognizing March 14, 2009 as National Pi Day.
My background in Public/Media Relations causes me to wonder why the good folks at the American Pie Council chose Jan. 23 as their National Pie Day rather than March 14. To their credit, they do provide ideas for celebrating Pi Day with pies, but why not take advantage of the built-in promotional value of π (pi)? A missed opportunity in my opinion.
Regardless, I’ll be celebrating Pi Day with my usual running around in circles and eating a delicious piece of pi(e)!
My husband is quite mechanically inclined. His sister’s husband is not. I can’t make a decent pie crust to save my soul. My husband’s sister makes a killer apple pie. I predict that as long as my husband can fix … Continue reading