A Picture

Two of my Dad's older brothers, Burton and Theodore, numbers 7 and 6, respectively, of the 12 kids.  Theodore was Mike's dad.  I don't have any pics of Mike.  By the way, we always pronounced Uncle Theodore's name Thih-door, with the accent on the first syllable.

Tags: Burton Dowell, Theodore Dowell

Awake and Feeling Blue

 

A first cousin of mine, Michael, died this past Friday.  He had had some heart surgery quite a while back, and had had some recent health problems, but I believe this was still rather unexpected by his family.  My sister, Lois, said she saw him not two weeks ago, working as usual.  But his kidneys failed after being hospitalized last week with what they said was congestive heart failure.

Mike was the middle son (one of six children) of one of my father's oldest brothers.  He was 61, 20 years older than I.  I actually grew up with his kids, one a year older than me, and another a year younger (and a daughter quite a bit younger).  But still I knew and liked Mike as a first cousin and as a neighbor, living about a mile from my parents for as long as I could remember.  His mother, who was a first cousin of my mother, died back in the late seventies, and his father, my Uncle Theodore, died in the early nineties, if I remember correctly.  A farmer, he was the uncle who once told me that I had "dimples deep enough to slop a hog in."  I can't remember seeing him and my Dad together where they didn't try to outdo each other with jokes or ridiculous stories, and I remember Mike as being much like his father.

My father was #9 of 12 kids, and I believe Uncle Theodore was #6 of the clan, so he wasn't too much older than my Dad.  At least he was just old enough for my dad to be able to follow around and close enough in age for them to pal around together some when my dad was older.  If my father were living he would be very saddened by this particular nephew's death.

And maybe that's why I'm up at 1:39 a.m. instead of sleeping.  I woke up and started thinking about Mike and his family, and that led me to thinking about more of my Dowell cousins.  Although I was closer socially to several of my cousins from my Mother's side, I was exposed to more of the cousins on my Father's side, even though most of them were older (sometimes much older) than I.   All but three of my Father's brothers, and one of his sisters, lived with their families in houses down the road from the house I grew up in and where my Mother still lives.  And although none of his siblings who lived on that road are still living, the road is still dotted with the homes of their children and grandchildren, and two of their widows.  The graveyard attached to the little Methodist Church barely a half mile from my Mother's house holds the graves of my Dad, his parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, great-great-grandparents, most of those deceased brothers and both of the deceased sisters of my Dad. 

My childhood was spent riding the schoolbus with the sons and daughters of quite a few of my first cousins, and a handful of those first cousins themselves.  When I was a Senior in high school and our Uncle Harlan died, there were scads of Dowells checking themselves out early to attend the funeral, or at least it seemed so.  I can remember being lifted up on a big draft horse that Mike's dad, my Uncle Theodore, worked on his farm.  The horse's name was Shorty, and I can remember being amazed that he was so wide that my legs stuck straight out at the side when I sat on him.  I can remember being at family dinners at my "Mamaw" Dowell's house on Sundays (and I had to have been only 3 or 4 years old), and watching the uncles and the older cousins playing horse shoes and the younger cousins playing tag or hide and seek or kick the can.

Yes, even though my oldest sisters and brother were the ones who grew up with most of the Dowell first cousins who lived nearby, they were still very much a part of my life as a child.  Although I can't say that I was close to Mike, he has been a constant in my life, and I guess I'm feeling a little vulnerable because yet another constant has been taken away.  I never used to have problems dealing with deaths in the family, but since my Father died I do.  Mike is by no means the first of my first cousins to die.  There were some children of the oldest in my Dad's family that I never even knew.  One died in Viet Nam.  Several died while I was still quite young.  But Mike is the first in a long time, and the first of those cousins who lived nearby, whose kids I grew up with, who Dad would drop by to say hi to, who I actually do have a little bit of shared history with. 

All these thoughts were running through my mind, and Istarted crying.  I didn't want to wake Thomas, so I got up and came into the living room.  I really feel right now for Mike's wife, Wanda, who I always liked so much.  And I especially feel for his kids, Micky, Mark, and Tracy, and their families. 

                                                                                              

I hope you guys don't mind that I needed to share this.

Tags: Michael Dowell

Welcoming Back The Sun

The sun is shining very brightly here today.  The temps are mild, but there is a chilly wind blowing.  I realized today what was good about having such a hot, dry summer -- not once did I have to use a dryer when doing laundry, only if I wanted to for some reason.  I hung most of my laundry outside all summer.  This past week was the first time I actually had no choice.  Today I'm taking advantage of the breeze and the sun, though.

Eler Beth and the dogs were certainly glad to see that sun today.  I'm not sure who was getting more pleasure from running around the yard, her or them!

I'm not dusting books today, but I do have a few more to do.  Guido reminded me in a comment about Library Thing.  Library Thing is a way to catalog your books online.  I started entering the info on my books a long time ago, but never finished it.  I should, though.

When I was a very little girl my regular cleaning job on Saturday mornings was to dust the living room and hall, and my older sisters, from whom I had inherited the job, gave me explicit instructions on how I was to do it.  I can remember dusting and lining up in rigid order some nic-nacs on a table, and my sister Lois coming by and fussing at me because I had lined them up in a straight line instead of achieving a more soft effect with their placement.  I can also remember being indignant because no one had ever told  me not to line them up straight, and I resented her fussing at me -- but I learned my lesson.

I don't know if Lois or Barbara had shown me how to dust the books in the book cases, or if I'd watched them or my mother dust them individually the way I described in my previous post, but that is how I dusted the books in our living room every Saturday morning, and that is still how I dust them today.

Tags: Library Thing

Dusting Off Those Pages

Last weekend I was in a cleaning mood, and I indulged that mood.  This wasn't just normal cleaning, but the mood to deep clean, sort, toss out, scrub -- a "Fall Cleaning", if you will.  One of the things I really wanted to do was clean all of my books.  That has carried over to this weekend.

My books and book shelves get a quick dusting at least once a week, but the books themselves don't actually get  moved and dusted individually on a very regular basis.  It is something that I enjoy doing when I can do it, but not something that can be done every week.  I have HUNDREDS of books!  And the problems with cleaning each one individually are many.

  To clean my books I take all of them off the shelf I'm cleaning, keeping them in the correct order, because, of course, they DO have an order.  After the shelf is cleaned, then I pick up the first book on that shelf, wipe it down, front, back, spine, top, side, and bottom of the pages (while the book is closed), then I open the front, dust inside the front flyleaf, open the back, dust inside the back flyleaf, then flip the pages in an attempt (probably a futile attempt) to "air out" the book.  Then one by one each book gets re-shelved.

While doing this chore I re-acquaint myself with books I haven't thought of in a long time; long-forgotten treasures from my childhood; vintage copies bought for the pleasure of ownership, if not for reading; well-thumbed copies that are read on a regular basis; new purchases that have been assigned their own places on a shelf, but that, for whatever reason, haven't been read yet; various cookbooks; an attractive copy of Mr. Boston Official Bartender's Guide, which I cannot remember why I bought; all of my school yearbooks, whose pages require a quick perusal, a smile at the pictures of me and my friends, a quick nostalgic reading of the autograph pages.  All of this is time-consuming, but so enjoyable.

I hope everyone else is having an enjoyable weekend, too!

Brrr!

Last night Eler Beth asked me, "Why don't you get paid to be a mom, Mom?"

I got all mushy and told her that I do get paid to be her mom, just not by something tangible like money.  I think that's what she wanted to hear!

Today we lit the furnace.  I guess it was time.  I don't like it being too chilly in the mornings for the kids and the birds.  Monday and Tuesday it rained steadily.  I think we've had about six or seven inches fall.  Because it has been so dry we haven't had any flooding, though.  Today we had misty rain and occasional showers, but nothing too heavy.

I have enjoyed these dark, gloomy days because I've been in the mood to clean, and not being tempted to go outside has helped that mood along.  And I've got some really good books to read, and an afghan to crochet.  But it is driving Eler Beth up the walls!  She's accustomed to riding her bike every day and playing with the dogs whenever she wants, so I've heard the "b" word a lot over the past few days.  We did take another trip to the library today, so that helped.  When Thomas got home from work he needed to run to Wal-Mart, and he took her along, so that helped, too. 

The dogs are getting a bit tired of the rain as well.  They are outside dogs, although they do get to come in to visit once in a while (but not all at once).  We have a big back yard, and they have their kennels and houses.   They aren't suffering, but I know they're as bored as she is.

I appreciate the comments I got on my previous entry.  "Bullying" was on my mind yesterday, and I just felt like that is a form of bullying as well, and I just needed to write it.

I hope everyone is having a good Wednesday.  I wish we could have sent some of this rain to California.  I hate turning on the news because it is so frustrating to see something like that going on and not being able to do anything about it.

A Bit Serious Today

All over J-Land I am reading some (not most, but some) entries that are made out of frustration, sadness, anxiety, etc., and my heart goes out to these journalers.  So I thought I'd address one of the topics that seems to be worrying some of my on-line friends.

So regarding trolls and unsolicited emails of the hurtful or confusing type: 

-My thoughts -

I read, and am read by, a diverse group of people.  I don't expect all of them to be exactly like myself or to feel exactly as I do on all subjects -- or even on most subjects.  If I wanted to read (or be read by) people with my exact thoughts and tastes, it would be entirely possible for me to do so.  I would simply search out those profiles that fit my requirements, visit their journals and invite them to visit mine.  If I didn't want anyone else to read my journal or to comment in my journal I would make it private and open only to those of like-mind.  But since I read the journals that I like, and since it isn't a requirement for me to like a journal written only by someone just like me, I read very diverse journals.  I like being able to do that.

I don't open up here in this journal about my opinions on some controversial subjects, including, but not limited to, religion, politics, sexual orientation, socio-economic status, social problems, or nationality.  You may feel that you can get an accurate idea of my opinion on these subjects by reading my journal, and perhaps you will be able to do so.  But I wouldn't count on it.  The reason I don't usually open up on these subjects is this:  I don't have to.

This is MY journal.  I write about what I want.  I know that if I write about a controversial subject I may open myself up to having to deal with a comment from someone who would like to disagree, argue, preach, coerce, judge, or condemn me, along with comments from those whose opinion matches my own.  I don't want to have to deal with that.  And that is not what THIS journal is for.  There is nothing wrong with having a journal that facilitates that type of discussion, but it isn't the purpose of THIS journal.  There is nothing wrong with bringing up such a subject in due course of writing an entry or of sharing your life with your readers, but then you have to be ready to deal with the human element -- your readers' reactions.  And I don't want to do that.  So I have a fairly happy little journal with usually fairly happy little entries, hopefully funny sometimes, maybe even informative.  And I like it that way.

It upsets me when I see other journalers having to deal with emails, in particular anonymous emails, or comments that are meant to be hurtful or that try to push personal opinions or beliefs down the journaler's throat.  I don't think that there is anything wrong with well-thought-out comments that make a point, even if the point is in oposition to the journaler, and that are made using kind, intelligent words, thoughtful concern, and consideration for the one being addressed.  Those types of comments, even when they are in disagreement with the journaler's entry, can be read as sincerely-meant, personal feelings by the commenter, and there can never be anything wrong with those.

I don't believe the same way as all of the journalers that I read.  I don't necessarily agree with any or all of their religious beliefs, political affiliations, or personal lifestyles.  But obviously there was something about that person and the journal that they write that I was drawn to or felt I could connect to, or I wouldn't be reading it.  If someone writes something that I find in disagreement with my own personal beliefs I simply don't read that entry.  In my real life I am friendly with people of many walks of life.  I don't judge them, and I don't condemn them.  I am friendly with people who don't necessarily agree with me on all things and who may actually disagree vehemently with me on some subjects, given the chance.  But they still appreciate other things about me, and I them.  Anyone I know in real life who is or does or believes something that I absolutely cannot handle, knows this and we go along on equal footing of knowing where we each stand and just how far the friendship or acquaintanceship will go. 

I guess the point driving this long entry is this:  I think it's a shame that any one of us cannot write anything we choose in our own journal without having to worry about stressing out over a response.  I recently read with interest entries made regarding abortion.  In each one that I read I saw comments expressing the opposite opinion, but doing so kindly and with respect for the writer's own opinion.  That was impressive -- listening to someone else's opinions and responding respectfully, without compromising your own beliefs. 

It's a shame that "trolls" will always be out there.  The troll is looking for a reaction, and as long as he gets one, he'll return.  It's especially sad that some journalers are more sensitive to these types of aggravations, and cannot as easily as others shrug off these ugly varmints.  What's really a shame is that they would have to be put in a position to do so in the first place.  But this is, apparently, part and parcel to having an online journal.  One has to weigh the good with the bad, and go from there.

To those who are having to deal with this stress -- do what is right for you.  Continue to write what you want in your journal.  Ignore anyone who makes you unhappy.  We all have enough stress in our lives already.  We don't need to invite in more by giving any kind of credence to trolls.

Heading HOME!

Heading HOME! :

Another J-Lander with family effected by the California wildfires and needing some words of support and encouragement!  Please stop by.