2019 – MY YEAR IN REVIEW

THE YEAR 2019 was a hard one for me in many respects. Nevertheless, I have learned from it. You may ask, like in what ways? Well, first off I had something happen that wounded me fairly deeply. For days I couldn’t stop crying about it. I missed a writer’s conference at the same time. There was flooding on the highways and I didn’t want to chance it, plus my spirits were down. This was the third time I’d had to opt out of a writing conference. I was bummed. That’s how the year started for me. A couple of major disappointments came in the writing venue this December. As always, you learn if you choose to.

The Sacramento River at flood stage in early March. This was the view down the street from my folks’ place.

That said, I had special opportunities amidst the other stuff.

January through September – Since Dad had moved to a retirement living facility at the end of 2018 and Mother had passed on in August of 2018, that opened it up for us to dig in and get something done. Lots and lots of hours went into working at the home where my parents had lived. I was over there more than I was at my own home. Slowly by slowly my siblings and I managed to go through everything and do what needed to be done.

Up for a work day over at my folks’ place in Capay. This was a month or so before Josh moved to Montana. Thomas was up from San Diego.

I shared my mother’s fabric with some of my sewing friends who had known her. They were delighted, which, of course, delighted me. Mother’s paintings were distributed among the 15 grandkids and the four of us. Some were not quite finished. This was a fun time of oohing and ahhing.

One of Mom’s not quite finished paintings.

Boxes and boxes of fabric, notions, and patterns to give away.

April – I visited Daughter 1 and her family in Florida. They were in the process of fostering two little ones in addition to their own four. I got to enjoy Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday with them. It was a busy and beautiful two week adventure. I loved the bay, too. We ate fresh caught, fresh cooked blue crabs (thanks, kids).

 

 

 

 

 

 

August – Son 3 came out for a visit (thanks, Forrest). That was a delight!

After he left, my daughter’s family of now ten, came out to California for two weeks. During that time we visited a farmer’s orchard operations of almond, prunes, and walnuts. The children had an art lesson by their auntie, played games with another auntie, and later we all went to southern Cal for a day at Disneyland (thanks LaVonne and Shane, Krista and Glori).

Visiting Great Grandpa Brumbaugh.

At Disneyland. One of the strollers came up missing. Someone had mistaken it for theirs. Later they made the switch and we got it back near the end of the day.

The complete family with the four foster siblings included. They get along well and seem like a family unit.

After they left, San Diego was ours for a day. Son 2 and Daughter 2 and I went to the San Diego Mission, to the bay, walked the wharf, and later ate at a fish food restaurant. The day was lovely and perfect (thanks, Thomas).

With two of my favorite people, Daughter 2 and Son 2 (Glorianne and Thomas) at the San Diego mission.

September – My dad turned 90, so we had some fun celebrating. Went to the sprint car races at the Chico Speedway at Dad’s request. The announcer announced that a Ray Brumbaugh wanted to go to the races for his 90th birthday. Everyone cheered and clapped. Dad stood up and took a bow. The next night we got together at the Capay ranch house, where he and mom had lived for 20 years. We shared a meal and told stories about moments we’d had with Dad and how he had blessed us over the years.  This activity was definitely heartwarming.

October – Daughter 2 and I flew out to Bozeman Montana to meet Son 1 and Son 2. Then we headed east to Ekalaka Montana for a weekend of deer hunting with my sister and her husband. We didn’t meet with success but we did get lots of freezing weather and snow. It was quite the adventure (thanks, Dan and Marilyn, you are the best!).

My three brave-hearts.

Uncle Dan, our fearless leader.

The nicely chilled and happy crew at the end of our adventure. Photo courtesy of Marilyn.

Saying goodbye to Thomas in Glendive, Montana.

I spent most of a week with Son 1. I reconnected with Chad and Diane Wilder. They are my son’s small group church leaders. On Halloween night he and I went to the small group meeting, driving on snow to get there. While Josh was in Helena for Reserves, I spent some time with Diane in Bozeman. We window shopped and had tea. Wonderful! A couple of days later I did a day of 4-wheeling on icy roads in the Bridger Mountains with my son. It was a great adventure for me (thanks Josh, Chad and Diane).

Such a sweet day with Diane in Bozeman.

They take good care of their critters in Bozeman.

Another goodbye. This time it’s me leaving the Big Sky country. It’s early in the morning.

November – Another plane trip but this time to Nampa Idaho for my brother-in-law’s mother’s memorial service. Betty McKeeth had lived with Kirk and Juanita for several years. The graveside and memorial were full of beautiful tributes in honor of a life well-lived. Marilyn, my other sister, and I stayed with the family for three days before heading to our respective homes (thanks, Kirk and Juanita, so glad we could be with you).

Sisters forever.

Got a sewer line installed and hooked up to the City. I’d gotten a permit in April but delay after delay kept it from happening (The Camp Fire devastation’s needs were taking precedence locally). I ended up hiring a different company. Glad it’s done (thanks, Chico Septic).

December – Son 1 and a friend installed gutter guards in the gutters around the roof. He took the lead. I am so grateful for his being proactive about this (thanks, Josh and Franc).

Three of the kids were here for Christmas. That is always a good thing. I enjoyed playing host.

So, what did I learn in 2019?

  • I am learning that I must let go of things I cannot change and how to actively let go by choosing to do so in my head, not with my feelings (if that makes sense).
  • I am beginning to learn the concept of seeing difficult people as ‘someone to love’ instead of avoiding contact with them.
  • I am learning it is okay to be my own person in my writing journey, that I need to let the real me surface like I used to do before I worked so hard at perfecting my craft. My writing voice had seemed to disappear and felt uncommonly stiff at times (thanks for helping me see this, Cec Murphey).
  • I’m learning I can accept disappointment, discouragement, and failure without letting them conquer, own, or deplete my health and well-being.
  • I am minimizing my frustrations with most of my care-giving tasks by relaxing and choosing to be cheerful instead.

And I am grateful for all my blessings.

Grateful to God for taking care of me. Grateful for you, my faithful followers. Grateful for the grace that gets me through each day. Grateful to be alive.

God’s best to you and yours as we usher in the next decade.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

My Experience as a Salvation Army Bell ringer (Part 3 of 3)

-1994-

CLOSE PROXIMITY

The action was a little too close for comfort. I saw weird things happen while I was a bell ringer. It was my third week on the job. I was moved from outside the Target store to inside the Chico mall in the foot traffic corridor. One day I was ringing my bell when I witnessed gang activity go down a few feet from where I stood with my red bucket full of cash. What I thought was a friendly encounter ended differently.

Three young men sat on a bench. Four other young men wearing beanies were walking towards them, smiles on their faces. Then they stopped and talked amongst themselves. A few feet separated the two groups. They made eye contact. Immediately one young man headed toward the other three. He swiftly approached the bench. Then he hauled off and slapped the other guy’s face just as hard as he could. The young man didn’t blink or react. He remained rigid, stone faced, without any expression. The aggressor and his companions then strutted away, walking with a swagger.

I hadn’t expected the slap. At that point I became vulnerable. This wasn’t friendly mall behavior. What if they wanted the bucket of cash and caused trouble? But they weren’t noticing me. I notified security just as quick as I could, a few minutes later. I reported what I’d seen. She said they’d had some problems before at the mall’s east and west entrances, but that activity was outside the stores. She and her security detail would check the mall. I was located in a central position in the mall.

While standing there, I looked around in the store windows. The window of one store displayed record albums. One album was unsettling as I viewed it. The album was in black and white and displayed a female toddler sitting on the sand and holding a pistol like it was a plaything. Guns and children was not a good look (I had four children at the time). It’s imagery was creepy. I don’t even know what album it was, maybe you do, but I’ve never forgotten it.

The male employees in that same store looked nice. They were dressed in black slacks and white shirts with red ties. I remember thinking that they dressed nicer than school teachers. I was a part-time substitute teacher at the time, and thought the teaching profession had lost its professional edge by not dressing the part. Times had changed. It seemed strange that a nonprofessional dressed up when a professional dressed down (I’m a self-professed dinosaur given to pondering things).

Next, I saw a former employee of my father’s from back in the day strolling the mall. His grown daughter accompanied him. They were dressed to the nines, in black leather jackets and trendy jeans. She was in fashionable heels, and he looked sharp, too. J___ T____ was quite a character. I’d last seen him when I was a teenager, when he was working for my dad. Now I was thirty-something. We talked briefly.

I remembered when we were harvesting almonds with mauls and a sledge topped with canvas tarps pulled by a tractor. We kids pulled the tarps around the trees. J____ and my dad then knocked the tree limbs with hand held mauls, they were heavy things with rubber ends on wooden club-like handles. The almonds fell on the tarps, which we pulled back on the sledge. We shoveled the nuts into gunnysacks. When Dad was gone, J____ liked to gab. He’d stop working to talk. He told us about the woes of his marriage, like we were interested (not). He got hot under the collar when one of us kids said that we should get back to work. He grabbed his maul and proceeded to, hard and fast, bam the tree limbs, barking several of the limbs (barking is when the tree is hit so hard that the bark separates from the tree, scarring and damaging the tree). He didn’t take kindly to our comment.

As we worked, we were always on the lookout for wasps. Sometimes wasp nests full of wasps would fall out of the tree when the limb was shaken. One of us kids would yell, “Wasps!” and we’d all scatter. We’d make a mudplaster with our drinking water to put on our stings. That eased the sting’s pain and kept it from swelling. Then we’d go back to work. It was hard, tedious work, which included working after school till dark. But you do what you have to do, and we didn’t complain.

Aww, the memories.

I made six hundred dollars for four weeks of full-time bell ringing. Land sakes, we needed it. It was enough for Christmas and then some. Bell ringing is an experience that makes you more aware. Take the time to be friendly when you encounter a bell ringer. Be of good cheer!

I hope you have enjoyed these three posts, two of which I never finished when I first wrote them.

This Christmas share the joy. Give to a worthy cause.