Missing Raymond

I am missing Raymond tonight and decided I wanted him on here with me so I can pop up some of my favorite pictures no matter where I am. Thanks Sis.



Christmas '81



January 2, 1982



Free Photo probably around '84

On one of our trips back to KY before kids

On a hike, on vacation



Raymond and our dog, Waltzing Matilda

Raymond, Arlie Sparks (my dad), and G.T. Catron (his grandpa)

On another hike.

Raymond won a car on the radio!

We move to our dream property in 1993.

Best Vacation Ever! Top of Laurel Falls
Smokey Mountains, TN

At the cabin in the Smokey Mountains, TN

Christmas

One of our last vacations, Pine Meadow Cabins, Broken Bow, OK

Yes, I know he doesn't look well in this picture, but his illness did not keep us from enjoying life.

Raymond's Avatar

I miss you Raymond. You would be so proud and amazed at our boys.

I can have happy days, but they are never as bright without you.

Brings Up Feelings of Anger

I have been spending a lot of time lately with divorced women. This is new for me. Until fairly recently none of my friends were divorced, and I had never been around anyone that was divorced that was my age.

I don't know the nitty gritty of why these women got divorced, but it has become obvious that many of the are very bitter, mainly because the exes are not good about helping with the children.
I can understand their bitterness over lack of support, financially and emotionally, I am sure I would be out with the best of them fighting for my kids right in such a situation.

The problem I am having being around these women is that if fills me up with such anger over my boys and I losing Raymond. He was such a great father and husband, and he is gone, and these deadbeat dads are out running around and not taking care of their responsibilities.

It is just so wrong.

I will probably never get over the injustice of it all.

Lordy Lordy

I grew up hearing "Lordy, Lordy." Never thought much about it until today when it popped in my head while riding with my youngest as he practiced driving.

This child is so different from the oldest. The oldest still will not pull out onto a road unless he cannot see a car for two miles. Not the youngest. He is able to pull out onto a road with the best of them, even though he has only driven about five times. He says he has learned from watching me. Now that's scary.

He is also great at backing up. Not my forte. Of course he got a little over confident today and almost took out part of my workshop because he did not realize how close I had parked to the house to carry in my daily baggage.

This boy drives with confidence, and yet great safety as long as he is not in the right lane. He still really likes to hug that right lane.

I swear he drives like his dad. It just takes me right back in time.

I still do not like riding with him, but then I do not like riding with anyone.

The New Black is the Old Blue

I had to take the youngest for a physical this morning. For some reason we were able to get to the doctor's office in less than thirty minutes, which was just a miracle, and since I had allotted an hour for drive time we had to sit in the parking lot.

My youngest read while I decided to clean out my purse. As I was cleaning out my purse I realized I had the wrong check book, which meant I did not have the insurance card. I was freaking out. I could not remember what I had done with my check book. I had looked at it the night before to make sure I had the insurance card, so where was it?

I tore my purse apart and could not find the blue check book. I only had the black one.

When we got home I started searching all over again. No check book.

I finally decided to look in the drawer where I keep the black check book. The black check book was in its correct spot. I run back to my purse and grab that check book, it is the black check book. I'm so confused!

I finally decide to open the black check book in the purse because in all of this I have never actually opened the check book to see which one it is because I KNOW I am looking for the blue check book. There is no doubt in my mind.

I open the purse black check book and there it is ... the blue check book in a black cover. I spent a good 35 minutes of my morning looking for something that did not exist.

I still don't know what happened to the blue check book cover, but I'm glad to know where the new black one is.

What My Parents Taught Me

I made a huge purchase yesterday. One I have been considering for a couple of months. One that I researched, and one that L researched for me. It is a purchase I almost backed out of until yesterday morning.

What did I purchase? A Bernina 830 sewing machine.

This was a very hard decision for me because it was not cheap, and it was something entirely for me. Yes, I bought a Kindle 2 this year with money I had saved, but this purchase was in a completely different category.

I have been looking at this machine for quite a while. I have visited several dealers, I have called others, I have read the information on the internet, and I had even used a computer simulator. Intellectually I was ready to make the purchase, however emotionally I was very distraught. It was a lot of money to spend on a hobby I have not been doing that long.

I talked to quilting friends. I talked to friends. My 93 year old quilting friend asked "What are you waiting for? You aren't getting any younger." A lot of people were saying go for it. My youngest told me he thought I should go for it because "You are happiest when you are quilting."

I still was not sure.

I set up a demo with the dealer I knew I would buy from if I purchased for Saturday, July 11, 2009. I enlisted my boys to go with me to listen and be able to tell me if I had understood everything I was told. (Lucky for them, and a blessing for me, L offered to go in their place.) I was taking steps, I just had not chosen the exact path.

I spent the night before using the simulator, watching demo videos, and writing down a couple of facts. I was ready for the demo, but not ready to purchase. In fact I went to bed thinking that I would take the demo, but I would not make a decision any time soon.

Sometimes when I am in that stage where you are waking up, but not yet there, when your eyes are closed, your body is relaxed, but your brain is just starting to think, I will hear a voice. Ninety eight percent of the time I recognize the voice, sometimes I do not. Most of the time the voice is just calling my name as if it wants to draw my attention to something. Yesterday I woke to the voice.

It said "Get it!" After that several memories came flooding back to me.

My parents had a little nest egg in the bank for the last 20 years of their life and they would not touch it. My mom would dream of the wonderful sewing machine she would have one day, but she would not touch that money because she may "need" it one day, even though sewing was her biggest passion. My dad always wanted another houseboat or pontoon, but they did not buy one, and then he was too sick to enjoy it. They wanted to travel, but waited too late and were only able to get in a few trips before dad could not travel safely.

My mom kept their last car 20 years, and the inside roof was falling in on her head before she got rid of it. She could have bought a new ones years ago while she was still able to drive, but she did not want to touch that money. In fact, mom could have had a much nicer life after dad died but she would not touch that money. Why? Because my parents had always talked about leaving a little something for the kids.

Raymond would beg my mother to do something nice for herself with some of the money and she would tell him that if she spent it there would not be anything for her old age or the kids.

When my mom died last year, she had almost the same amount of money she had before my dad died, and I was given half and my brother was given half. When I put my half in the bank I decided then and there it would be my mad money, and I would spend it on things I would enjoy, but then with the economy, and such, I decided I would just put that mad money on hold.

I decided yesterday before getting out of bed that I was going to remember what my parents had taught me. I was going to enjoy my life's passions, especially if it wasn't taking anything away from the family. I was going to go to the demo with an open mind, a checkbook, and the attitude that if it was what I wanted, then it was going to be what I had. My parents sacrificed for me to have a little mad money, and I am going to honor that gift.

Hopefully, I will pick up my Bernina 830 next Saturday. I also will be receiving shipment of a nice cabinet, and I have some lovely accessories.

A big thank you to L. She gave up her Saturday to go with me, write notes, guide me when I was placed before a big wall of colored thread and told to pick 30 colors (She would not let me get 30 different greens), and was a terrific moral support. She did not hover, she did not try to convince me of anything, she just made sure I stayed focused, and that I had my questions answered. She was the perfect big ticket item shopping mate and I will be forever grateful. Plus she might get a little something nice made on the new machine.

It had to Happen

Raymond had bad eyesight. Whenever he would have surgery I would make sure that I gave him his glasses as soon as I was allowed in recovery so he could see what was happening around him.

I have bad eyesight. I have thick lenses, which means I am limited on the style of frames I can have, and that my glasses are expensive. I am always worried I will break or lose my glasses.

When I started going to the optometrist I go to now he would look at my boys and say "You know there is no way they won't need corrective lenses." and I would say "I know."

The oldest made it to 7th grade before he had to have glasses.

Today we had eye appointments. The oldest was first, and he had no change. I was next, with a change, but no need for new lenses. We were on a roll. Then the youngest went in. and I sat in the lobby and read my K2. After a while, the door opened and Dr. C came out shaking his head. He looked at me and said "You had to know it was going too good today."

I am thrilled the youngest made it to 10th grade without corrective lenses, but I am still disappointed he did not make it longer. He won't need to wear them all the time, but Dr. C he might like the correction so much that he will.

The youngest took it in stride, but I was a little down about the whole thing.

Desiccant ! What?

I was really busy this morning at work trying to get everything done before my new boss left town, so I was really wasn't "there" when my oldest called me and asked if we had a desiccant.

Now I normally have trouble understanding my oldest in person, and on the phone is taxing for me, but I really had no idea what he was saying this morning. I had him repeat it several times and I thought he was saying "death certificate" and I could not understand why he needed one. He kept repeating it and then spelled it and went on to say "You know like silica gel, uncooked rice, etc." I'm like "Huh?" as I continued on with my work.

He asked again if we had uncooked rice, and I said try to pantry, to which he said we only had Uncle Ben's. I was still confused.

I then asked him if I wanted to know why he needed a desiccant, and he said "Probably not, but if you need to call me today, call me on "_______ (the youngest's) phone." I hung up.

I hung up to keep from saying something really horrible to the boy, since we had both just gotten new phones because I was able to get a really good deal. I had to breathe for a while.

I then called him back and asked him if he had dropped his phone in the toilet, and he said "No." I asked him if he spilled water on it, and he said "No, it wasn't anything like that." So then I had to ask him how his phone got wet. He replied with "I washed it, but I got it out before the spin cycle." I hung up.

The phone is now in a bowl of desiccant, and once I got home the only thing I said to him was "If that doesn't work, you will take care of getting a new phone, and paying for it. You also might want to consider buying insurance and paying for it yourself."

I'm still a little shocked. For one thing I am not sure how it got out of his hands long enough to get into the washing machine. I hope it was a lesson learned.

I'm really glad I remembered my bp meds this morning.

Computer Rest

I have been trying to take a few breaks from the computer the last couple of weeks, and I am seriously considering taking at least a three day rest except for work just to let my own creative juices flow without the influence of today's "world."

"A" for Willingness, "D" for Result

I have been working a lot of extra hours this week and haven't been home much with the boys. Today was no exception.

I left work at 4:15 p.m. and picked up the youngest to return an item to the store for the church, and pick up another version. I needed the youngest to help me carry the item. I asked the oldest to make the meatloaf and get it in the oven. I gave him the recipe and off the youngest and I went.

I had not made it quite to the store when there was a call from the oldest asking where I keep the rubber gloves. I was confused as I don't use rubber gloves to make meatloaf. Turns out he had broken the lid on my favorite small casserole dish that I received as a wedding gift 27 years ago.

The youngest and I completed our task, took all our purchases to the church, and came home. As I was coming up the driveway I bet my youngest a "Sonic Cherry Limeade Chiller" that the meatloaf was not in the oven, even though it was 5:20 p.m.

We walked into the house and there was not a smell of anything cooking. The oldest was in the kitchen chopping onions (at least the ones not on the floor). I sat down to read in the living room and he continued to make the meatloaf. Once he had it ready to put in the oven, I went in to help a little with the decision of what pan to use. As I was helping him, I thought the meatloaf did not quite look like the one I usually make, but I figured it was the light or something.

Ninety minutes later the oven timer goes off and the meatloaf is ready. When I went to take it out of the pan I had to ask "How did you make this meatloaf?" It would not hold together. It was more like meatloaf hash. The taste was not great either. Not disgusting to the point you couldn't eat it, but not exactly good, but far from my normal meatloaf. We got the recipe out and I saw that he had followed the recipe, and that I had not clued him in on how I change it usually. Also, the ingredient amounts were probably off because I don't think I had the exact amount of ground beef.

We had a good laugh, and I even tried to have a second helping of "meatloaf hash" but couldn't begin to get it down.

I told my oldest he should cook all the time because it was good for my diet.

He was just happy that it wasn't as bad as a meal a friend made for us.

At least I'm known for not eating leftovers so his feelings won't be hurt when I don't touch it again.