Strolling Down Memory Lane

Last week, I decided to take a trip to Olney. Other than quick trips for weddings and funerals, I haven’t been there in years.  I have been trying to find a time to get together with my Aunt Candie and an old friend from college for months, and this weekend, finally, the stars aligned, and it worked out for all three of us.

Friday ended up being a crazy day, and while I had planned on leaving here at 2 in order to beat weekend traffic out of the city, my plans didn’t quite work out, and it was 4 before I was ready to go. After spending 2 plus hours in a Missouri state vehicle inspection center, and dealing with a complete a-hole, I was ready to scream. I headed home, threw my suitcase in the car, and then spent the next 90 minutes sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic trying to get out of St. Louis. By the time I crossed the Mississippi into Illinois, (which should have been a 30 minute not 90 minute trip) I wished I had never planned such a trip. Traffic wasn’t a whole lot better in the first miles of Illinois, and I couldn’t even put the car on cruise. The state police were out in full force. I was driving Justin’s car, and I had called him while I was waiting for the inspection on the Expedition to ask him to put the CD's from my van into his car because he was going to leave with my van before I got home. Well, he forgot, so I ended up having to dig through a bunch of old stuff before I left to find CD’s to listen to when I was zipping through rural Illinois with no radio stations.

What a blessing that turned out to be!

Once I was completely away from St. Louis traffic, I turned off the AC, rolled down the window, opened the sunroof, and blasted my golden oldies CD’s, thankful that none of my kids were along to make fun of me. (They LOVE to make fun of me when I listen to songs that were popular as they say "in the olden days"). By the time I exited Highway 70 at Effingham, knots that I hadn’t even realized had tightened my shoulders loosened, and thanks to Katrina and the Waves and Roxette and Wham!  and Bob Seger, I was calm and cool and windblown and  ready for a fun weekend in the big town of Olney.  For once, I wasn’t even irritated and impatient as I followed slow-moving cars and trucks and combines down Rte. 130 between Newton and Olney.  The wind was whipping my hair around, and I felt free as a bird. I felt freer and more relaxed than I have felt in a very long time.

I have always loved Olney. When I was a kid spending summers with my aunts and grandma, I truly WAS free as a bird. As a city girl spending the summers in a small town, I had so many freedoms I didn’t have living in the city. I could ride my bike to the pool or to town to buy a soda at Bower’s drug store. I could ride my bike pretty much anywhere. I could WALK to the grocery store! In short, I loved Olney.

I haven’t lived in Olney since 1983. I used to visit much more than I do now when my parents lived there. This was the first weekend that I spent there that wasn’t because of a wedding or a funeral, and I enjoyed every minute of it.  Early Sunday afternoon, I left my aunt’s house  with hugs and promises to visit again soon, and I had every intention of heading straight home. I texted Tony and told him I was leaving. 

I sort of got sidetracked.

Imagine that!

In reality, it took me two hours to actually get out of Olney.

First, I drove by our old family house on Elm Street. I would give just about anything to be able to go inside and see what the new owner has done with the house. A few years ago, my cousin Libby was in Olney, and she walked up and knocked on the door, and he showed her around. I wasn't that brave. I took zoomed in pictures from across the street and then worried that they saw me and were calling the police to report someone stalking them.

Here are 2 pictures of my most favorite house ever.

Not only did my mother grow up in this house, but so did my grandmother, and my great grandmother. My great grandmother’s father built it as a wedding gift for my great great grandmother, who ended up dying in childbirth. I spent a great deal of my childhood in this house. It is an awesome house…every bedroom has (or at least had) a fireplace. The living room has three bay windows. Everyone knows how I feel about porches, and this house has the ultimate porch—perfect for hanging ferns and wicker swings. That big tree in the front yard has always been there, and I have many great memories of raking piles of leaves that were taller than me and then jumping in them.

 I was on a roll after that. I ended up at St. Josephs, and decided to take some pictures of the church Tony and I were married at.

From St. Joe's, I turned from Elliott onto Main Street, and decided that I had to stop at Hovey's for a Pepsi.

 Hovey’s has been around since I don’t know when, but my parents hung out there when they were kids. I doubt it looks much different today than it did in the 1950’s. I think it still has the same formica tables, although the red vinyl and chrome chairs look newer. Whenever I am in Hovey's, I always imagine '57 Chevy's at the curb and girls in saddle shoes.

After I left Hovey’s my reminiscing really kicked in.  As I walked back to my car, I decided to take a picture of theold library (that sadly has been replaced with a newer, more modern library)

and the movie theater.

This is where I saw my first movie. I was 11, and I went with Mom and Aunt Mary to see Paper Moon.  At the time, Paper Moon was quite scandalous, at least to my mom it was, and there were a few parts where she covered up my eyes.

My next stop was my Grandma Fulk’s house. The neighbors were out, and I really felt funny about taking pictures, but I really wanted to. So, I drove around the block, rolled down the window, and took a picture.

Looking at that little house made me a little sad. The bushes and plants are so overgrown, and I couldn’t help but remember how behind that tree, my grandma used sit on the patio in a rocking chair and feed squirrels from her hand. I remembered her beautiful flowers, mostly red geraniums, that lined the patio. I sat there for a long time looking at her house. I know it’s not her house anymore, and it hasn’t been for a long time, but to me, it will always be my grandma’s house.

I reluctantly drove away and my next stop was the park. My grandma lived just two blocks from the park, so it didn’t take me long to drive there.

So many things are the same. So many things have changed. And sadly, while white squirrels used to be all over the park, I didn't see even one.

I was surprised to see these swings still scattered around. They used to be green, but other than that, they look exactly the same.

These next pictures are of what used to be the pool. Oh, how I loved going there! There was nothing like the Olney pool where we lived in St. Louis. I think going to the pool was my favorite thing about summer in Olney.

(I love how the original pool that was filled in years ago is still visible around the edge).

This deck overlooked the deep end of the pool.

It used to be painted pool-water blue. And it wasn’t so run down looking. If you jumped off of it into the pool, you were kicked out. I never jumped off that wall, but I did teach myself how to do a flip off the diving board the summer between 7^th and 8^th grade. It’s funny how when I  was a kid, that deck seemed so far above the water, and it’s actually only about 4 feet high.

I headed down the hill that falls away from where the chain link fence that surrounded the pool used to be

I was a bit shocked to see that this covered bridge is still there. When I was a kid, we were all scared of that bridge. We thought "perverts" hung out there...we didn't know what a pervert was, but we knew they hid out in that bridge waiting for little kids. The bridge looks just as creepy now as it did in the 1970s. I took this picture and high tailed it out of there because there was a very strange guy who was hacking away with a baseball bat at a dead tree branch while he mumbled to himself.

My last stop on the way out of Olney was one I knew would be emotional. I turned off the highway at "The Rez" to take a peek at Aunt Mary’s old house.

And it’s no longer there. :(

It looks like someone tore it down and built a new house. I drove around the whole area, and there are quite a few brand spanking new huge all-brick homes with 3 car garages and BMW’s in the driveway. It just didn’t seem to “fit” with what I remember…cute little cabin-type houses that back up to the lake with beat up looking metal fishing boats tied to rickety docks.

I drove around, and then parked my car, got out and walked down to the lake through a small grove of pine trees.

The carpet of needles on the ground was so deep my feet sank. It smelled wonderful though, and I gathered some pine cones that I brought home and put in a bowl that is now sitting on my desk.

 I couldn’t get to anyplace that would enable me to take a picture of Aunt Mary’s old house, but it’s just around the bend in this picture.

 After I took pictures from here, I drove back to where her house used to be. I decided to be brave, knock on the door and ask whoever lives there if I could walk around back and look at the lake. There were three cars in the driveway, but no one answered the door, so I did walk around the sides of the house and take a few photos, but I was too chicken to walk all the way into the yard.

I had to take this picture. There used to be a huge pine tree here that Aunt Mary always had covered with those old fashioned gigantic Christmas lights. When we were all kids, we were so excited when we pulled into her driveway late at night and saw that lit-up tree. There used to be a stone wall where that fence now is.

I also picked up some of these cute little green acorns before driving away.

My last stop on the way out of Olney was Fox Creek Winery. Wow, was that off the beaten path! I almost gave up and turned around to head back to the highway. I bought a bottle of wine while I was there. Right now, I am enjoying a glass!

For the next hour, I sped down the 2-lane country highway that winds through the heart of Illinois farm country. There were storm clouds looming, and the combination of stormy skies and corn fields was quite beautiful. As I passed through towns so small they don’t even have a stop light, I think for the first time, I truly appreciated where I came from. I have driven that road hundreds of times throughout my life—as a child, when the drive down those country roads meant we were “almost there;” as a college student on the way to and from college on weekends and school vacations; as an adult heading “home” to visit relatives for holidays and weddings and funerals and reunions and for absolutely no reason at all. But in all of those years, I never really “saw” what was right in front of my face. That drive between Effingham and Olney was simply either the last little bit of a drive to get to Olney, or the last little bit of a drive before we hit the interstate that would take us back to the city.

Yesterday, I really appreciated it for what it is…a beautiful, peaceful stretch of road that has the amazing ability to massage away knots from my shoulders and my mind. My drive to Olney will never be the same again.

My last stop of the day was in Effingham, where I sat at a white picnic table and ate a turtle sundae at Homewood Grill. A few minutes later, I merged onto interstate 70 leaving cows and the amber waves of grain far behind. Soon, my oldies CD’s were put back in their cases as I neared St. Louis and I was able to pick up a decent radio station.  On my way back into the city, I once again found myself sitting in traffic. As I inched across the bridge that spans the Mississippi separating Missouri from Illinois, I felt myself tensing up, and I began channel surfing on the radio to find out what was holding up traffic. Then, in an effort to bring back the feelings of peace I had felt just a few hours before, I turned the radio off, rolled down the window, and put in another oldies CD. I was ready to head home with a much lighter heart than I had when I left.

And realizing how good for my soul a weekend in Olney was, I vowed to myself that I will not let so much time go by before I visit again.

Home Health Care

I have been so negative with the things I have written lately. While I have been writing/speaking from my heart, I don’t feel good about what I’ve written. Not at all. I’ve strongly considered deleting my last few posts, but I talked myself out of it. Sometimes good, sometimes bad and sometimes, downright ugly…that is my life these days. If deleting the negative posts would delete the reasons I wrote them out of my life, I’d hit the delete button so fast I’d leave a sizzle mark on the delete key. But, since deleting the negative things I wrote won’t delete the negative things I wrote about, what’s the point? Maybe someday, I will look back on the thoughts that have poured from my mind and fingers this summer and think, “Wow, I came through all that with flying colors!”

 So today, I’m going to go back to being positive with sunshine and rainbows exploding around me like 4^th of July fireworks, and I am going to write about something good while I am riding on the back of my pet unicorn with a wreath of daisies atop my head.

I know, I gave this post a strange title, but it’s the first thing that popped into my head. And just a funny side note…when I typed “popped,” it originally came out “pooped.” Yes, that word would have been appropriate too as things often poop out of my head. I almost left the typo.

I don’t know what has gotten into me lately. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I am nesting. I’m not obviously, but I have definitely been in a “clean and organize and purge everything in my path” mood. (I’ve told my kids on several occasions that they should be very afraid of leaving their crap laying around). And it’s been just what I have needed, like a breath of fresh air blown into my soul. Cleaning the clutter and unnecessary things from my home is in a way helping me unclutter my mind, bringing the important things more clearly into focus.

Years ago, I used to relieve stress by going on a cleaning frenzy. Times of trouble were when I was most likely to clean out closets, cabinets and drawers, scrub and wax the kitchen floor and shower doors and wash curtains and baseboards and walls and blinds. I would even clean the leaves of my plants. Yes, times of stress were good, very good, for my home.

 But, as I’ve gotten older, I am more likely to curl up on the couch with a quilt and a big bowl of buttered popcorn and watch cheesy Lifetime movies while doing my very best to ignore the clutter and dirty floors and dust balls in the corners. My house has been very neglected these past few years as I have done the bare minimum to keep my family from living in squalor. Okay, that’s a little dramatic and inaccurate, however, I have definitely lowered my usual high standards and not been bothered by a little dust or unorganized cabinets and closets and piles of laundry the way I once was. My motto for the past few years has been “if the family has clean clothes and food on the table, all is good,” even if they are digging those clean clothes out of laundry baskets that are lined up in the hallway.

Which reminds me of a funny story. Years ago, my cousin Nancy, who is my Great Aunt Marion Kelly’s daughter, told me a story about how their life as kids was rather chaotic. There were 5 of them (kids, I mean) and their dad was a busy dentist. Their mom, one of the truly funniest most  joy-filled, loving women I have ever known, was a stay at home mom. I have no doubt she was one of the most fun moms among her peers, but she wasn’t the greatest housekeeper from things I’ve been told and heard and seen in old photographs. Nancy told me that once, she was over at a friend’s house, and her friend’s mother gave her a stack of neatly folded laundry and told her to go put it away in her dresser. Her friend said, “Why can’t I keep my clothes in a laundry basket like the Kelly’s do?”

I found that story so funny.  I wonder if someday, my children will tell silly stories like that about me. I doubt it. But I digress….

I used to take great pride in keeping my house in a condition that wasn’t perfection by any means, but it was always neat and tidy enough that if someone dropped by, I wouldn’t be embarrassed. Lately, those days have been LONG gone and sometimes, I’ve been embarrassed when I drop by.

For some reason, the tides have shifted, and now, I can’t seem to keep my house clean enough or organized enough. I’ve been cleaning out drawers and cabinets in the kitchen and bathrooms.  I’ve scrubbed windows inside and out. I’ve repainted scuffed baseboards and even cleaned nearly all of the clutter that typically accumulates in my dining room. I scour Pinterest looking for organization ideas.

 In short, while the stresses I’ve been dealing with right now have sort of wreaked havoc on my life, they’ve once again been very good for my house. It’s kind of strange, but I haven’t even looked upon anything I have been doing as a chore. I have rather enjoyed it. Some days on my drive home from work, I think about what I can organize when I get home. I know, there is something wrong with me, right?!

Clearing clutter and crud from my home has brought clarity to a lot of things. For one, it’s made me realize just how neglected it has been…how much needs to be done. I’ve paid attention to things I haven’t noticed for a long time…like scratched and marred baseboards in the dining room that need a fresh coat of white paint…like the bathroom cabinet that is really looking shabby and in dire need of a makeover. Like the cobwebs behind the blinds in the family room. 

Clearing the clutter and focusing on taking better care of my home has also made me look at it through fresh eyes and take note of things I love. Like the way the light from the sunrise shines through the window above my kitchen sink early in the morning. And the way my grandma’s and Aunt Mary’s crystal sparkles in the china cabinet after it’s been lovingly washed and arranged.

Cleaning and decluttering has inspired me to once again do little things to cozy up my house. I’ve bought some new houseplants for the first time in years, and I hung them from scrolly black wrought iron hangers in the doorway between the living room and dining room.

I decorated the blank wall above my desk with wall words that I bought months ago then put in a bag in a corner of the dining room and promptly forgot about.

 Cleaning out my china cabinet inspired me to take some of my favorite things from the dusty corners and put them where I can see them all the time.

In short, while my cleaning mission has resulted in some depressing thoughts about how much I’ve neglected the home that I once took such pride in keeping clean and welcoming, it has also made me love it in a whole new way. Yes, it needs new carpet. There are still 2 rooms that have an old wallpaper border that I would love to remove. My front porch needs to be painted, and so do the shutters and my front door. Long ago, I grew tired of the flowers I stenciled on our bathroom wall when Lauren was a newborn and I would love to re-do that bathroom.

But, along with the negative thoughts, or rather in spite of them, I have fallen in love with my house again. I’ve remembered how I felt walking through the front door 18 years ago giddy with excitement and overflowing with ideas for the blank, white canvas that was all mine. My house is well-worn, but it’s comfortable, and I am trying to embrace all that I love about it.

In the beginning of this tossing and cleaning process, I felt overwhelmed, like why bother doing anything at all when there is so very much to do? But the more trash bags I filled and carried out to the garage, the more focused I became. I made a list of all of the things I wanted to do. I have already crossed a few of them off, and I try not to stress about all that remains on that list. I know I will accomplish most of them eventually. If I don't, oh well. I’m tired of focusing on what is wrong and old and outdated, and I’m trying my darndest to focus on what is good and what I love about my house.

 Decluttering and cleaning the house has brought clarity to my mind as well. I’ve worked out a lot of things while tossing unnecessary crap that I’ve accumulated into giant black Hefty bags. I’ve done a great deal of writing this summer, which is the best way for me to sort and declutter all that jumbles up my brain, and it’s been really good for me. As I’ve sorted and waded through the debris of my mind, I’ve also mentally tossed things into a black trash bag. I’ve realized that while there is much that is wrong in my world, and I do need to work on those things and figure them out so I can deal with them, there is also much that is right. Not just right, but good. Very good. I’ve made a list of those things and put it in my wallet, pulling it out when I need to be reminded of them. Just as I’m tired of focusing on all that is wrong with my house, I’m also tired, so tired, of focusing on what is wrong with ME. I’m tired of thinking of all the things I do that make me a not-so-good wife/daughter/mother/employee/friend. And I’m trying my darndest to focus on the ways I am a good wife/daughter/mother/employee/friend. It sure isn’t going to be easy, but I’m setting out to prove to myself that I can do it. J I have some difficult hurdles to overcome in the very near future, but I have NO doubt that I am strong enough to take them on and fly over them without too many stumbles or falls that land me flat on my face. If that does happen, I really believe (at least for today!) that I will simply pick myself up, dust myself off, and carry on.

Yesterday, I had an enlightening conversation with a co-worker who told me I way overthink things. I know that I do, and no matter how hard I try not to, I can’t stop. I’ve been thinking a lot about some things she said to me, and I am quite certain that there will someday soon be a blog post about it. But for now, I think that overthinking doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing, although my overthinking usually results in negative thoughts. Since I can’t turn off my brain with a switch the way I often wish that I could, I am going to find a way to turn my overthinking habit into something beneficial to me. I’m not sure just how I will do that, but again, I’m going to give it my best shot. Hopefully, my negative alter-ego will soon be banished forever because I do not like that person very much.