Family
On the back of the violin is a name, Allen Spencer. I assumed that it was carved lovingly into the wood by my great great grandfather when he was young. I have no way of knowing just exactly when it was written, but it would seem like something a child would do. Grandpa was born in 1826, and died in 1883, and as near as I have been able to find, the violin might have been made in 1866, which would mean that my great great grandfather was 40 years old. No matter how old he was when he engraved his name into the violin, the length of time the violin has been in our family tells me that music to some degree has been in my family for several generations. That violin was handed down from my great great grandfather, to my great grandfather, William Malrose Spencer, to my grandfather, Allen Luther Spencer, to my Uncle William Malrose Spencer II, who passed it on to my dad, Allen Lewis Spencer, with the request that we keep it in our family. We have had several violinists in our family, my sister Allyn, and my daughter Corrie, to name two. The violin is in great condition, and has been well used throughout the years.
My grandfather, Allen, enjoyed jamming with his brother-in-law, Albert, who was playing the accordion. I can imagine that their jam session was a lively time, as those two instruments don’t usually go together. Nevertheless, when a couple of brothers get together and try to outdo each other in their play, and from what I have seen of these two brothers, they liked to joke around. They always seem to have a twinkle in their eyes in the pictures I’ve seen. I have a feeling that the brothers could be…maybe a little mischievious.
When we received the violin, it occurred to me that this was a pearl of great price, so to speak. Maybe the name engraved on the back reduces the value in the eyes of an antique dealer, but it only increases the value to us. So often you have very little that belonged to your great great grandfather…especially when he died 73 years before you were born. That is the real thing that gives it value to me and my family. This was something that my great great grandfather, great grandfather, grandfather, my uncle, and my dad all took pleasure in, and something my mom, my sisters, and our families will all take pleasure in for years to come…because it was my great great grandfather’s violin.
Bob and I were having dinner at Shifters, the drive in fast food restaurant, where you might remember that the A & W Drive-In used to be, here in Casper. Shifters is decorated in a nostalgic gas station motif, and part of the decor was a display of old toy cars. It reminded me of my first car…or rather, the car I had to share with my sisters. There is just something wrong with having to share your car with your sisters. Nevertheless, that was the way it was, and since none of us had a driver’s license, we didn’t have much chance of getting our own car in the near future.
Lots of kids have cars these days that are battery operate, and require only the ability to steer to make the whole thing work, but our car was different than that. I suppose it was like a cross between a car and a bicycle, except that the pedals were fairly level to each other, for obvious reasons. Even with the pedals set so you could operate the car, you had to be careful, or you might whack your knees on the underside of the hood. I guess that is one of the hazards of being the engine. The car was just barely more modern than the one Fred Flintstone drove, and then only is it’s weight and the more modern use of the legs. I guess I should be thankful for that part, because that whole running down the road with no shoes on…not, exactly my cup of tea. My feet are too tender.
You wouldn’t have found one of us driving our car down the highway, like you have seen of the battery operated models of today, because that was just too far away for a little kid to peddle, but it could take an ambitious kid down the street to the corner, and then back…mostly because we knew that if we went further, we would face the wrath of Mom, and you simply didn’t want to go there, because if Mom’s spankings didn’t do the trick, Dad would fix your wagon when he got home. Needless to say, we didn’t stray outside our limits. And since we didn’t stray too far, we were allowed to have a really good time with 
our little car.
After looking at the cars mounted on the wall at Shifters, I felt maybe just a little twinge of jealousy. Our car was a dull gold color…very plain, and these had obviously received a little bit fancier paint job, and they were built for one…a little bit sportier. While, our car was a two seater, and you would be taking your sister along…if you knew what was good for you. I might have chosen the Barbie Doll type car, had it been available, but then, what good was going for a drive, if you had no one to talk to. No…I guess my first car was just what I would have chosen…looking back now, anyway.
I didn’t know my Aunt Deloris as a child, which is to be expected, but one thing I have noticed is that she was always smiling. I only wish some of the pictures I have were a better quality. The things Aunt Dee, as we all called her, saw around her seemed exciting to her. And yet, she seemed to have a shy side to her. The Aunt Dee I knew in my childhood would bear that out too. She had a shy smile that always warmed my heart. I loved to have her come over. And it was always so much fun to hear the stories about the past that she and my mom talked about.
Aunt Dee was always coming up with some new invention or idea. She wanted to find a way to feel like flying, and not alone. So she came up with the idea of using her dad’s trench coat and she and my mom got in it and off they went. She loved doing things for her family, like catching fish at the river, and putting them in a wading pool for the other kids in the family to enjoy. She bought a piano for the family for $35.00, and it was in her mom’s house until her passing. She taught the rest of the family a dance that she learned in 5th grade, and to this day, my mom remembers that dance.
I remember her laugh, that could light up a room. She would come up with some funny thought, and then start laughing. Well, you couldn’t help but laugh right along with her. I have a feeling that her sisters and brothers found a lot of her schemes…or at least the scheme failures, to be pretty funny too. When things worked exactly as planned, it was just pretty cool.
Aunt Dee passed away in 1996 from Brain Cancer. If she were still alive, she would be turning 81 years old today. I still miss her very much. She had a loving nature that was very endearing. It makes me sad that we were not able to have more time with her. Happy birthday in Heaven, Aunt Dee. We all love you very much.
Through the ages, kids have thought that the work done by their parents is fun. They do their very best to mimic everything their parents do. The funny thing is that often, the things they see as being vitally important, are the mundane tasks that we do because we must, but try to get done with as quickly as possible, because they are so boring. I’ve never been able to figure out why those tasks catch the eye of our little ones, or why they place more importance on those tasks than some of the really important things we do every day. I suppose it is just the difference between the thoughts of a child and the thoughts of an adult.
All in all, it’s not a bad thing that kids like to mimic their parents, because before long, they can do the real chores that they were pretending to do before…if they still want to by then. Of course, that is when your real work starts, because when you tell your child to do their chores, most kids take on a look of being instantly half sick. Their shoulders drop, along with their smile. They look like they have run a marathon, and here you are making them slave around the house, when you know that the only marathon they have been running is a marathon session on the play station. Funny, how that can suddenly be exhausting when you ask them to stop and do those chores.
Then, in your mind, you see that little kid, begging you to let them help, and if you were ever going to get anything done, you knew you were going to have to buy them a pint-sized version of whatever cleaning tool you were using. If you were ever going to get your work done, you were going to have to find a way for them to help you without actually using the tools you need, because you really don’t want to discourage them. The days that kids want to help are few and far between, after all, and before you know it, watching your kids doing the chores with a smile, are over.
Little boys have always had the same problem…bossy big sisters, aunts, cousins, babysitters…girls. It isn’t that girls like to be bossy so much. It’s that it is part of their nature. Men are programmed to go out and support the family. They don’t get as emotionally involved with the children. I don’t mean to say they don’t love them very much, because they do, but the day to day discipline, training, nurturing…bossing, they have more of a tendency to leave to the women, and that’s ok, because women are geared to that nurturing training, discipline…bossing part of a child’s life. Women have a tendency to be bossy by nature…which for little boys can create a problem.
Little boys expect their mom to tell them what to do, but those pesky sisters are a different story. Who do they think they are anyway? They aren’t the boss, so why is it that they are always making a guy do stuff that he doesn’t want to do? I mean, boys have 
better things to do than stand still posing for a silly picture. Boys have better things to do than stay clean for school, or some other equally as unimportant event. Boys have things to do, and it just never fails that just when they are all set to go have fun, here comes their older sister again…making them pose for a picture, or sit still when they have things to do. Why can’t they just mind their own business.
In their defense, it isn’t really a girl’s fault either. Their mom and dad always put them in charge. When they go outside to play, they are told, “Keep an eye on your brother.” When the family goes someplace, they are told, “Hold your little brother’s hand.” And then when they are old enough, they become the built-in babysitter. They are always held responsible for what their little brother does…like they can make them mind. Eventually, they learn to do just that. They become the boss that they will eventually need to be for their own children. They become just like their mom.
It’s all part of the growing up process, for both the little boy, and his big sister, cousin, 
aunt, or babysitter. It doesn’t mean that it’s anything personal. It’s just that if she can make her little brother or charge do what needs to get done, she can go back to doing what she wants to do. Being in charge of her little brother really isn’t all that fun, it’s a job…like any other job. The sooner she can get that job done, the better. So she does what she has to do. She becomes bossy. And after a while, she finds that being the boss isn’t so bad. You can assign tasks for the younger kids, and get out of some of that work. This could work! “Get over here little brother. Now, stand still, and smile…like you mean it!” Yep, being the boss is ok. Maybe it feels natural. Hmmm, maybe she is bossy by nature.
My cousin’s daughter, Kristin has always been an amazing girl. Her parents, Bill and Maureen have kept us up to date on her activities through the years…mostly by pictures and letters, since they live in Wisconsin, and we are in Wyoming. Kristin has always seemed like the shy type, but that is mostly because knowing someone in letters and pictures isn’t quite the same as knowing them in person, and when you come and visit, and you are a kid, it’s hard to find things to talk about. Nevertheless, Kristin was very sweet, and we all enjoyed the visiting with her, when she and her family brought her grandpa, my Uncle Bill out for a visit in 2007. It was very nice to get to know both Kristin and our cousin, Cody, who is my cousin, Jimmy’s son, and we are so glad they all made that trip so that Uncle Bill and his brother, my dad could see each other one last time.
As I said, we had kept track of Kristin and her activities mostly through letters and pictures, but now that she is on Facebook, I expect that we will get to know her even better. Kristin has been in Karate since she was just a small child, and at this still young age, she is a black belt, so while she is not physically real big, she definitely carries a big stick, so anyone who gets in her way, might want to keep that in mind. Of course, like most kids who have taken Karate, her abilities would never be used to bully others, but only as protection for herself or for others. I have never had the pleasure of watching her compete, but I can imagine how great she must be since she is a black belt.
Now that Kristin is in middle school, she has begun to branch out into some new interests, one of which is drama. No, I don’t mean the kind that involves screaming insanely, but 
rather the kind that involves being in plays. Her drama group just finished performing “Once Upon A Mattress” and from what I’m told, the play went very well. I have never seen her act, but with Kristin’s ability to excel in all she does, I can imagine that she is an excellent actress.
Kristin has grown so quickly from the shy little girl who came to visit us in 2007, into a beautiful young lady who I am proud to call my cousin. I know that she will go on to make her parents and the rest of her family very proud. Today is Kristin’s birthday. Happy birthday Kristin!! Have a wonderful day!! We love you!!
Since the snow began in Casper, on April 8, 2013, we have had around 32 inches of snow, which, of course, varies depending on where you are in town. Since the storms took place over a number of days, some of it melted in between storms. Now if you happen to live on the mountain…like my friend Becky and her husband, Darren, your world looks…just a bit different than the rest of town. According to Becky, they have had between 48 and 54 inches…maybe more, since the wind has been blowing it around up there.
All the kids in town expected to have a snow day with the first storm, so when morning arrived, along with what most of us assumed was enough snow to call school off, and school was still on, the kids were justifiably annoyed. The comments on Facebook flew back and forth expressing their irritation. At that point, I mentioned to my grandkids that they should have watched the movie, “Snow Day” because it would explain to them, the best way to arrange a Snow Day. Well, I don’t think they took my advise, but it would seem that they found a way to get that Snow Day after all…and it didn’t involve hijacking a snow plow.
April, 2013, has decided to be like the Spring storms I remember as a kid. We used to get the kind of snow that meant that cars didn’t get around in it. People who really needed to get out had to use a snowmobile. This April storm was going to rival those storms, and the second round of the April, 2013 storm hit close enough to the first round that the snow hadn’t completely melted. That created enough problems with the roads to bring the words that every school aged child wants to hear…Snow Day. Then begins the reality of the Snow Day, because while the weather is too rough to go to school, for some reason, it is not so bad that the kids…and any parents who were able to get the snow day too…can’t get out there and play. Other kids, like my grandson, Caalab found themselves literally waist deep in drifts of snow with a shovel at not only their house, but those of the neighbors, as well.
At that point, the best mode of transportation became the sled powered by kids. After all what is a Snow Day for if not to get out a play in the snow. Suddenly kids who normally had to be pryed out of bed, jumped out of bed and could hardly wait until 
breakfast was over, so they couyld get out in the snow. Of course, there are adults, like Darren, who probably felt a little bit differently about the type of play they had, and who had to use a much stronger mode of transportation…the truck with a plow. Digging out of the ton of snow on the mountain, is a lot of work, but then I suppose that the chocolate chip cherry cookies Becky made today, would help to motivate Darren in his work.
Being far away from family, is only one of the many hardships of being in the service. It is strange to think of feeling lonely with so many people around you all the time, but that is just how a soldier feels…probably more than they will ever admit. It doesn’t matter if they are married or single. There are always family members that they miss. We would have a hard time understanding their feelings, even if they are our own family member, because we are not all alone in a foreign country, with enemy fire all around us, wondering if we are ever going to get to go home to our life again, and they are.
A lot of times, these men are on long shifts that seem to never end, and in war situations, their bed can be a hill of dirt, sleeping among the bugs, with one eye open, and carefully listening for the sound of guns or explosives, or more importantly, footsteps. It doesn’t make for an ideal sleeping situation. Yes, they are afraid. Bravery has nothing to do with the lack of fear. Bravery is standing your ground, in spite of the fear. That kind of situation takes its toll on the men and women who find themselves in it, and the need for occasional breaks is vital. Unfortunately, trips home are not aways possible, so when they can they explore the area they find themselves in. Many times, these men will not come this way again, so it can be a once in a lifetime opportunity.
Sometimes the area they are stationed is of great interest to them, as it was to my dad. A big part of his ancestry has its roots in England, so being stationed in Great Ashfield, in Suffolk, England, he had the rare opportunity to see where his family came from. I don’t know how much he was able to see of it, but to me, just knowing that my feet might have walked in some of the same places as so many of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, would be awe inspiring.
When we think of our soldiers, we get a picture of a man in camouflage, holding a gun, and taking cover behind whatever shelter they can find. We see them as fearless, brave and courageous. We never picture the man behind that facade. The man with hopes and dreams for the future. The man with loved ones who are constantly on their minds. The man who wants to do his duty, because he knows it is necessary, but beyond that, he just wants to go back home to his family…to kiss his wife and kids, or marry and have a family to love, and to return to his parents and family, who can’t help but jump every time there is a knock on the door…praying that it isn’t men in uniform, who are there to tell them that they have lost something of great value to them…son, daughter, husband, or wife. He just wants to make it home.
There is so much heaviness on the hearts of these men, and no way to change what is. It 
brings a great need for some down time. You can’t continue on, and do a good job, without it the ability to set aside the stress and fear of combat, for a just little bit of fun to take your mind off of it. So, the men and women, our soldiers, look to the countryside that they find themselves in, hoping to find a smile or two, and something to smile about. They do the fun things they can find so that after a time of rest and relaxation, they can go back and do their duty once again.
Bob and I went out to the nursing home to visit his mother on Saturday, and very uncharacteristic of her, since she got Alzheimer’s Disease anyway, she was very talkative. She was telling us about her day…at least as she remembered it. Her story moved from one scenario to another, making little sense, unless you knew some of the characters, and the places she was talking about. The other problem with her story was that it spanned at least 6 decades, and they were all intermingled. Probably the most disconcerting part of the story, however, was the fact that she was talking about Bob and me, almost like we weren’t there, and yet at other moments, she talked to us, knowing who we were. It was very strange to feel the need to speak of myself, as someone else, so it didn’t confuse her. It was also strange to shift gears, when she asked me what I was making everyone for the dinner she had decided I was cooking.
I’m sure a lot of people would have been a little bit freaked out by this strange visit, but with Alzheimer’s Disease, that is somewhat normal. The main reason it isn’t very normal, is that many Alzheimer’s patients, including my mother-in-law, don’t usually talk so much. It was quite an interesting conversation, really. She mentioned several family members, including Bob and me, our daughters, Corrie and Amy, and two of my grandsons, Chris and Josh. She also mentioned my brother-in-law, Ron, and my nephew, Barry as well as my sister-in-law, Jennifer. Then she mentioned the names Adolph, Brady, and Cody…names that made no sense to me, and two of which will most likely always be a mystery. Adolph and his wife Loretta, apparently were good friends of my in-laws, a long time ago.
It was very strange to know that she knew who we were, and yet also had a picture in 
her memory of what we looked like 30 years ago. The two pictures seemed like two different people in her mind, so it made perfect sense that she would be talking to us and about us at the same time. I suppose many people would find that sad, and think of Alzheimer’s disease as a horrible thief, and to a degree, they would be right, but so much of this disease…if looked at with the right mindset…can be found humorous. Yes, she makes up her stories, but they are about things in her past. Yes, she doesn’t always know us. But there is a lot to be learned there too. I never knew about their friends, Adolph and Loretta, but maybe someday she will tell me a little bit more about them…perhaps, in another story session.
Baby faces are so cute, and funny, and amazing, but have you ever stopped to wonder what is really on their minds. When babies stare off into space…like we all do from time to time, I have to wonder just what thoughts they are thinking. We have lived so many years, compared to their short time here, so what deep thoughts could they have when their mind drifts. Are they thinking of their next meal, or maybe just their binky or bottle. That was most likely the case with Bob. I don’t think a hungrier child ever existed. He was always ready to eat, and if he wasn’t eating, my guess is that he was thinking about eating.
With Aleesia, who loves to have her picture taken, and is very quick to smile, my guess would be that her thoughts would have to do with the best shot to add to her portfolio. It’s not a matter of being a model or anything, although this little girl could sure do it with her smiles. It’s just that this baby loves to ham it up for pictures. The camera comes up, and she starts to pose for the picture. It might be that she is used to having her picture taken, since her mom takes new pictures all the time. So…what would Aleesia be thinking in this shot…oh, maybe something like “should I say cheese?”
Aurora, seems to be a deep thinker. I notice that in her a lot. Maybe, it is because I have that same tendency. A deep thinker, might be thinking…”Mom said no. So, how can I get another cookie anyway?” Or she might just be thinking something like, “I am sooooo mad at you right now!” Even as she thinks that, she is trying not to let you know what she is really thinking. Sometimes that is a good idea. I mean you don’t really want to let your mom know how upset you are with her. That can cause some real problems when it comes time to sweet talk her into giving you what you want next.
Then we come to Reagan, who has had her fair share of cute little suitors. It helps when your parents have friends who have boy babies your age. Nevertheless, sometimes moms can get carried away in setting their daughters up with boyfriends. They always seem to have their own idea of who you should be dating. Typical of moms!! And sometimes a girl has to put her foot down. It makes no difference whether or not you like the guy, it is simply a matter of having your mom set up your dates. How rude!! Still, I think Reagan has the situation well in hand here, when she says with her eyes, “Seriously Mom, quit setting me up with dates!!”
