Thanksgiving Day ... not turkey day ...


It seems to me that more and more people are wishing each other a “happy turkey day”.
I guess it’s supposed to sound cute but it really misses the point.
Supermarket advertisements were probably the first to refer to the holiday this way and, of course, the media perpetrated it by referring to Thanksgiving Day as turkey day.

Where along the way did they forget that Thanksgiving Day was set aside to celebrate our “thanks” not a turkey...?

The Vase

I knew mom and dad would like the gift I had in mind. I looked at it each time I went through the arcade off Broad street in Philadelphia in 1958.
It was a beautiful turquoise blue glass vase, wide at the bottom gradually tapered to the lip. At the time, it appeared to be 5 ft tall and expensive.
Twenty dollars was a lot when my weekly take home pay was less than thirty dollars, so, I put it in layaway and after a few weeks I presented them with the beautiful turquoise vase and they loved it and I was a very proud nineteen year old.
Over the years I saw that vase swathed in blankets and pillows and handled as gently as one would a newborn with each move mom and dad made, and there were at least ten …
Once, dad wanted to paint it to match their decor and asked if I would mind. I didn’t mind, it was theirs, so he tested a little paint on the bottom, let it dry then removed it. Since there was no damage the turquoise vase became orange for a couple years ,thereby, maintaining its usual place with its new outfit.
It stayed orange for quite a few years until dad decided the original color was more appropriate for his new color scheme.
Whichever room it occupies, basks in the turquoise blue reflection that emanates from this 37 year old, 3ft high treasured gift of glass that has lived in PA, MD, VA, and TX
A treasured gift that has come full circle, having been given to me by my mom.
©1995 Joyce E Coley


January 12, 2005
In the ten years I’ve had it.. it has endured more swathing and gentle handling in a couple of my moves.
Today that vase sits in an honored place in my living room, still emanating the turquoise reflection of memories. My wish is for it to remain a memory long after I am gone..


January 12, 2006
These days blue lights cast an extra sparkle reflected through a mirror onto the vase .. a calming sight..

November 16, 2010
It is looking down on me as I sit at my computer … with one, ever so slight crack near the top.

Not bad for surviving 52 years ... so far.

Ice cream

EXCERCISE IN WRITING - WORD SELECTED FROM DICTIONARY AT RANDOM---ICE CREAM-- WRITTEN 10-06-96

BLACK RASPBERRY, BUTTER PECAN AND VANILLA WITH BING CHERRIES ARE AMONG MY FAVORITE FLAVORS, WHILE CHOCOLATE AND ANY FUDGE RIPPLES, TIN ROOF, COOKIES AND CREAM AND SUCH ARE MY LEAST FAVORITE.

THERE IS NOTHING LIKE A DOUBLE DIP CONE ON A HOT SUMMER DAY, ESPECIALLY WHEN EATEN IN AIR CONDITIONING.

I PREFER A CONE AS OPPOSED TO A DISH OF ICE CREAM, ALTHOUGH, NOW AND THEN I DO LIKE TO STIR THE ICE CREAM IN A BOWL TILL IT IS SOUPY.. SILLY HUH?

I’M SURE I AM NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO HAS SUCH IDIOSYNCRASIES WHEN IT COMES TO DIFFERENT WAYS OF EATING ICE CREAM.

I REMEMBER BACK FORTY ODD YEARS AGO WHEN WE COULD RUN DOWN THE HILL AND FOR A DIME, BUY A DOUBLE DIP CONE AND HAVE IT GONE BY THE TIME WE WERE BACK UP THE HILL.

I DON’T EVER REMEMBER MAKING HOME MADE ICE CREAM OR EVEN EATING ANY EXCEPT THE KIND MOM MADE FROM SNOW BACK WHEN SNOW WAS EDIBLE .

VERY FEW PEOPLE HAVE EATEN OR EVEN HEARD OF FROZEN CUSTARD, WHICH, IF I REMEMBER WAS DELICIOUS AND NOTHING LIKE THE SOFT ICE CREAM FROM DAIRY QUEEN, WHICH TOOK ITS PLACE.

WE USED TO GO NOW AND THEN AS A SPECIAL TREAT TO THE FROZEN CUSTARD STAND UP NEAR THE FARM SHOW IN HARRISBURG. IT SEEMS LIKE A THOUSAND YEARS AGO AND I HAVE TO REALLY CONCENTRATE TO REMEMBER THE TASTE OF THAT FROZEN CUSTARD.

I THINK OF ALL THE BRANDS OF ICE CREAM, BREYERS, GREENES

AND HERSHEYS ARE THE BEST FOLLOWED BY TURKEY HILL AND PENSUPREME.

Remembering ..

9/29/03


i remember
when brown paper bags were used to drain fried food
cool cookies from the oven
and even serve as a roasting bag for a turkey or chicken

when there was no aluminum foil
no saran wrap
paper towels
when tee towels were used to dry dishes
or sting your siblings' behind ... when their back was turned


i remember
when an ice box was just that
a box that held ice to keep food cold
and how long it took to call the new "ice box"
a refrigerator ...


i remember
when deeper hems.. and matching prints and seams
were a sign of quality clothes ....


I remember
When there were only cloth diapers
When we thought Dick Tracey’s wrist-radio was “out of this world”

Almost Disaster

It could have very well been a disaster…

It was a fall day in 1989 … I accepted an invitation to speak to the inmates at Huntingdon since they proclaimed me their favorite deejay.

After my speech, I left for home about 4PM ..

As I drove down the road, my car started to slow down even with my foot on the gas. I managed to get to the side of the road to see what was wrong.

I had no idea why it stopped so I sat there a minute and tried to start it again. It started and I got back on the road only to stop again a short distance away.

I was scared. I started to panic but I knew I had to figure out what to do… so I cried a minute then got out of the car to look under the hood ....

I don’t know what I was looking for so I got back in the car, locked the doors and sat there watching the traffic pass me by.

I had no idea how far I was away from anywhere to even make a phone call .. I hadn’t even heard of a cell phone, at the time.

After a bit, I tried to start the car again to no avail and again was looking under the hood when a man appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

He startled me and realized he had but he asked if he could help and proceeded to look under the hood.

He said something was loose and pressed whatever it was in place and told me to try to start it again.

It started. I thanked him and he seemed to disappear as quickly as he had appeared…

Later, I concluded that he must have been one of the angels I had yet to encounter during this dilemma.

Out on the road again… it stopped again.

Meanwhile, it was starting to get dark and I was at my wits end.

I don’t know how much time passed when a young man in a red sports car pulled up in front of me. He told me he didn’t know too much about cars but he would take me to the nearest garage or phone.

In the few minutes of conversation I noticed his uniform and duffel bag in the back seat and remembered having seen a convoy on the way up…

so I took a chance.

I’d seen enough movies and news reports to be afraid, but I didn’t know what else to do and it was getting darker. Thank goodness, a gas station was less than 3 minutes away.

The young man wished me luck, I thanked him and he went on his way.

I explained the situation to the gas station attendant and asked if I could call AAA, he told me they didn’t work on Sunday in that area.

Oh boy! Now what...

I called a friend and asked him to pick me up and he said okay.

Here I am a hundred miles or more from home on a Sunday night in a strange gas station with my car on the side of the road. It would take my friend better than an hour or so to reach me and the attendant would be closing before then.

He asked me if I wanted to give my friend his home phone number and go to his house to wait .

I was hesitant .. facing yet another dilemma … attempting to reassure me of his intentions … he called his wife to put on some coffee …

I took another chance ….

We went up the road to my car to get my Bose audio system and proceeded to the attendants house.

I had no idea where I was once we were off the main road but we arrived at his house and were greeted by his wife and children.

She poured me a cup of what I assumed was coffee by the smell.

The family was very pleasant, and I relaxed my apprehension … grateful for their assistance.

My friend called. I thanked the attendant’s family and we left to meet him..

When I got home … I made arrangements for the car to be towed and repaired.

a couple weeks later, I went to get my car.

On my way back home, I stopped at the gas station to say thank you again but the station was temporarily closed for hunting season.

I didn’t remember the family’s name …

I think of them now and then …

Like I said …. it could have very well been a disaster ..

GOD prevented that .... He sent a bunch of angels that day…

©1996 Joyce E Coley

Dying With Dignity

In Memoriam

July 10, 1998


My parents wanted to die with dignity, at home without tubes and respirators and heroic methods to prolong the agony that cancer’s invasion was doing to them.
It was hard enough for us, seeing them suffer through the stages of the disease, I can’t even imagine what it was like for them, especially the way they tried to be strong against cancer’s will.
I used to get angry at both of them for not seeking the medical attention that could have given an early alarm.
By the time we saw any kind of signs, it was too late.
Even in their last few months, they tried to go about their routines in between the ever increasing hospital visits for surgeries, radiation, chemotherapy, exhaustion, the whole gamut of trials and tests in their treatments.

Often they were in the hospital at the same time, in separate rooms and, of course, too weak to visit each other.
Those treatments seemed like more torture than the disease.
I remember one very poignant scene that almost erased the stress involved with caring for two parents who were terminally ill.
About two weeks before Daddy died, they both had just come home from the hospital. Mommy liked to lay down with her head at the foot of the bed so my sister was making her comfortable in the bedroom while I got Daddy comfortable in his wheelchair.
When they were both as comfortable as we could make them, daddy asked to see “his girl”.

I wheeled him into the bedroom beside her and my sister and I went about doing some of the necessities while they were resting.

After a few minutes, I started into the bedroom to see if they wanted anything then stopped and quietly called my sister to come see this “picture”...

a bittersweet memory … that stays with me to this day ..

Both of them bald from the ravages of chemo , she lying on the bed, he in his wheelchair holding hands now in sickness, as they had in health, too exhausted to even talk.

They made it known to all of us ...

no tubes or heroic methods...

They wanted to die with dignity...

and they did … at home .. with us ..



Dad died November 4, 1995

Mom died February 27, 1997
United once again .. cancer free .. in heaven.
© 1998 Joyce E Coley



I wasn't quilting then or they would have gotten this one ...

 

I Can Brag If I Wanna ..

My #2 son was not particularly happy when I took him to a recruiters office in his senior year.
 Many times, over the years, he has thanked me and now after 4 years at the Air Force Academy and 24 more years of service he has earned his commission as Colonel at age 46.
I am very proud and I Can Brag If I Wanna ..

His family likes this brown patchwork quilt

Throwing off depression...

                                I am just not motivated

it's a gorgeous day .. sunny .. balmy

I can't get started ..

I'm angry with myself ...

I have a myriad of projects to do

and the talent to do more ..

I need to throw off these blues

and when I do .. the sun will shine inside me

my spirit will soar and I will get back to my myriad of projects

less angry and more forgiving of self ..

Doodlin' while thinking ...

I called this one TIPS ... don't ask ...

Sat and Sun sfternoons are the worst times...

loneliness .. magnifies itself ..

I have to force myself to do anything .. even creatively...

a couple pieces of bright fabric helps .. sometimes...

fabric keeps me company ... music keeps me calm .. and you ..

my computer ..do both .. sometimes...

like now .. as you accept these words ..

and witness on screen .. my mood change as I listen to one

of my "pop" shows from 1988 ...

it's hard to believe .. I was that calm voiced dj ..
kickin' out my style ...
I felt myself "boppin" in my chair as I remembered the passion of those days ...
 playing music on Saturday nights

imagining my audience going about their paces ...
 stopping now and then .. to bop with the rhythms .....

I actually started to "rock steady" as the Whispers lifted me

out of my chair ....

arthritis let me do a little 80's dance ... so I danced out to the

kitchen to wash the beautiful fabric I bought today ...

the music was pumpin' ...
so arthritis and I paced myself between dancing around

the washer and "dancing" in my chair...

I got the right combinations today ...

bright fabric .. my computer ... and the uplifting music ...

from a show I played on the air ... 17 years ago ...

just the motivation I needed ... 

© 2005 Joyce E Coley

With my new found motivation, I made this piece I call

TWO WOMEN

WORDS

Words are a way to store things
Good or bad

You can cry with them on paper
When you’re really sad

Or laugh at the way you used them
When you were mad

I love words .. always have
I’ve strung a lot of them together
Over many years


They don’t have to have a sound
But they can whisper ..even shout


They can often be misleading
Or help you find things out

They can soothe and sting
And hurt .. no doubt


Even injure your pride
Or apologize …


what would we do without WORDS ???

Instead of writing, we'd be doodlin'.
©2005Joyce E Coley


 I named this one Kitty Tails ..

                

Showered by God

I seldom went to church after going to Sunday school as a child but I believed in God. I just did ..
I thought of God as more like one’s conscience.
It was the lack of spiritual knowledge that I attributed to, “what will happen will happen”, not thinking one way or the other that God had anything to do with the situation… by no means disrespecting God ..… I just accepted the inevitable.

There was a time when I was ashamed at not having read or studied the Bible and consequently shied away from any related conversations about God or religion.

Back then “by the grace of God” was an expression I’d heard and used without giving the phrase much thought … but that “grace” continues to nurture me even when I don’t recognize it right away.

When my oldest was in turmoil .. moody and unsettled, counseling didn’t help, it was a difficult period but we lived through those times with that same “grace”, the grace of God.

Now I begin to see how the right paths were chosen for me to guide my sons .

Single Motherhood

There were times when I was at my wits end
denying and crying ... doing my best …
raising boys to men ..

Looking back ..
I felt like I was “doin’ the right thing” long before Spike Lee even started writing the script for his movie … and my proof … three grown… sons… who love and respect their mother … and their significant other …

I used to say “I was lucky” that they did grow up … as thoughtful , respectful men ..but “luck” was only part of it … I had a good foundation from both parents … enough to give my sons much the same …

now that they are grown, they don’t seem any worse for being raised by a single mother.

We have a good rapport.. do not live on top of each other and keep in regular contact.
My grandchildren are fortunate to have both parents .. and I am happy to see a two parent tradition is starting again ....
 
What's more traditional than a Jacob's Ladder quilt..??

 

I CAN WISH

I can wish … if I wanna
I’d be lying if I said I don’t wish to be thin ..
Younger.. sexy …
What IS … IS … .so I won’t waste a wish, instead
I wish cancer, leukemia and their relatives to perish …

Five things you cannot recover in life

1. The Stone........................After it's thrown
2. The Word........................After it's said
3. The Occasion.................After it's missed
4. The Time.........................After it's gone
5. A person.........................After they die"

I Believe

I believe ... my children love me
  I believe .. Thanksgiving Day should not be called turkey day.
Thanksgiving Day was set aside to celebrate our "thanks".. not a turkey ..
I believe the media has gotten out of hand ..
  that people are becoming more wary and less courteous ..
  germs are everwhere..
   there will always be racism ..
there is little or no rehabilitation in prison ..
Dr Kevorkian should not be persecuted, the rich get richer and...
I will write something significant .. one day ...
but in the meantime ... I just made another quilt ...

   this one for my 10 year old granddaughter.