grandma
Time changes everything. Forty five years ago today, my sister, Cheryl Masterson became a mother, making my parents, Allen and Collene Spencer grandparents, and my sisters and me, aunts. It was such an exciting event for all of us, and it changed our lives forever. Never again would Cheryl be just a woman, she would be a mother from that day forward, as our parents would always be grandparents, and my sisters and I would always be aunts. At that time, the thought of that little baby growing up never crossed our minds, but my niece, Chantel Masterson Balcerzak had other ideas in mind…but then don’t all children. If they would just listen to us…they would stay babies forever
Not only was Chantel the first of the grandchildren for my parents, but she was quite little…not premature, just little. As with all grandparents, it seems like the cute little nicknames come out of the woodwork. Our family was no exception. What started out as little teeny baby, soon became Teensy, Little Teense, Chantsy, Chant, and even Chan. It’s a good thing that somebody, somewhere called her by her name, because otherwise, she might have thought her name was Teensy. And believe me when I say that Chantel grew into her nickname…or in her case, didn’t grow so she could fit her nickname. Chantel as an adult is all of four feet ten inches short. So, I can’t say that she grew up exactly, she simply became an adult, and I don’t think we were expecting that to happen so quickly. Nevertheless, before we knew it, Chantel was grown up, and my sister, Cheryl became a grandmother, our parents became great grandparents, and my sisters and I became great aunts. It seemed impossible that it could have happened so soon.
As we all know, time changes everything, and now, my niece Chantel has become a grandmother to Izabella Harman, Cheryl is the great grandmother, and my sisters and I are 2nd great aunts. Where have the years gone? And they aren’t slowing down either. Little Izabella is already more than 3 months old. Of course, she isn’t always called Izabella, because her grandma, Chantel likes to call her Belle or Bella. And she sings all the 
cute little songs to her…adding her name to it. Chantel loves being Belle’s grandma, and Belle loves her too. Of course, Chantel’s own nicknames haven’t gone away. Sometimes, I can still hear my dad calling her Teensy. Now that I think about it, I’m sure that he would calling her Grandma Teensy instead, because after all, time has changed that too, and now she can’t simply be Teensy…not when she is grandma to Belle. My dad would have loved that and he would have loved calling her Grandma Teensy too. Today is Chantel’s birthday. Happy birthday Chantel!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
For a time, my grandfather, Allen Luther Spencer, worked in the lumber business. It started when he and my grandmother’s brother, Albert Schumacher, decided to go trapping in northern Minnesota. That venture didn’t go very well, and they just about froze to death. It was at that time that they decided to go into the lumber business. Being a lumberjack is no easy job, and was probably much more dangerous in my grandfather’s day, than it is now. Back then, lumberjacks, as they were called did everything from chopping down the trees, to cutting them with a saw, climbing up in the tree to get to the top. You name it, if it pertained to logging, they did it. They called it harvesting, and it begins with the lumberjack. The term lumberjack is not a term that is used much 
these days, because the modern way of harvesting is very different. Lumberjacks were pretty much a pre-1945 term. Hand tools were the harvest tools used, because there were no machines like what we have now.
The actual work of a lumberjack was difficult, dangerous, intermittent, low-paying, and primitive in living conditions, but the men built a traditional culture that celebrated strength, masculinity, confrontation with danger, and resistance to modernization. These days, there are a few people who actually celebrate the lumberjacking trade. Mostly it involves competitions, but just by watching, you can see that being a lumberjack was not a job for a weakling.
Lumberjacks, and their families, usually lived in a lumber camp, moving from site to site and the job moved. I 
know that my grandmother and my Aunt Laura spent time in the lumber camps. From what I’ve been told, the houses were little more that a log tent. They didn’t stay very warm, because there were gaps in the walls, and my guess is that they could only use a certain amount of wood a day, so it didn’t eat into the profits. I suppose that the owner of the logging operation made a good profit, but that doesn’t mean that the people who worked for them made a great deal of money, because they really didn’t. Being a lumberjack was really a far from glamorous occupation, and like most really physical jobs, not one that a man can do for too many years. Before long, my grandfather, like most lumberjacks, moved on to other jobs, in grandpa’s case the railroad.
After my husband, Bob’s 2nd great grandma, Mary LuLu Taylor remarried, following the death of her first husband, James Leary, on March 26, 1888, she and her second husband had three children, bringing to four the total number of her children. Her life had taken her from Forsyth, Montana to Shelby, Missouri, where she met James Begier, who became her second husband. Later, they would move to several other times, but Montana always seemed to be in her blood and she would return there several times. Her daughter Mabel Claire Begier met and married her husband, Edward Anthony Brown in Rosebud, Montana. I’m not positive at what point Mabel became a telephone operator, but she did, and as it turns out, that’s where she was working during one of the floods that took place in Montana. That job, at that time in history, put her right in the middle of a serious situation, and in a position to help those in need of assistance.
When we think of any disaster…be it fire, earthquake, tornado, or flood, our first instinct these days is to dial 911 on our phones. That has become the go to number for all kinds of help in times of need. That wasn’t always the case though. Years ago, it was the operator you called for help. You simply dialed “0” to get in touch with someone who could connect you with any branch of emergency help there was…as well as to let everyone else in town know about the emergency…at least back then they could. Privacy laws would have prevented that these days. Of course, if it was a big emergency, letting everyone know would be her job.
Mabel Begier was an operator during an emergency that would have qualified as one in which it was acceptable to let people know, but then my guess is that most people already knew that it was coming. Floods in towns where you live near a river are common in the Spring, especially after a particularly high snowfall year. People who live near rivers already know that Spring means that you have to watch the water levels, stay prepared to evacuate, and stay informed at all times. At that time in history, when a warning needed to be sent out, you called the operator to get the warning out. That was where Mabel came in, and she loved her job. I think the job that she had was very important, and she was a key part of the emergency efforts of that era.
In most families, the siblings tend to look at least a little bit alike, but sometimes, two or more of the siblings really look alike, and they aren’t even twins. It isn’t that they look exactly alike all the time, but sometimes you see a picture of them or the have a certain look on their face, that reminds you so much of one of their siblings that you are sure it could be the sibling and not the person. That is the case with my Aunt Bonnie McDaniels, my Aunt Evelyn Hushman, and my mom, Collene Spencer. Of course, every time I saw a look on the face of one of them that so closely resembled the others, I didn’t manage to get the picture. Nevertheless, I think that if you look closely, you can tell that these three sisters looked a lot alike.
I have noticed a resemblance to these three and their mother, my grandma, Hattie Byer too. I think they took after her, much more than they did, their dad, my grandpa, George Byer…other than in the area of height. Grandma was very short, only five foot, in her tall days, while Grandpa was over six feet tall. The girls fell in around five foot six or so. Some of the kids did look more like Grandpa, but these three girls more like their mom. I always loved to see them all three together, because then you could really get to see the looks they would get that were the same, or hear their laughter, which was quite similar too. It was just a fun thing to see, and something I miss very much now.
With Aunt Evelyn and my mom living in Heaven now, Aunt Bonnie is the last of the sister look alikes. The bad thing about that is how much we miss the other two, but the good things is that when you see Aunt Bonnie, there is a good possibility that you will see a look, a smile, or hear a laugh that sounds just like Aunt Evelyn and Mom. It makes them feel a little closer. Today is Aunt Bonnie’s birthday. Happy birthday Aunt Bonnie!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
Once a year, on March 17th, the world takes a day to celebrate the wearin’ o’ the green. Saint Patrick’s Day, is really just one of the more fun holidays, that for most of us means nothing more than pinching ayone caught not wearing green, eating corned beef and cabbage, or drinking green beer and celebrating with our friends.
If we lived in Ireland, the day would be very different. That is because in Ireland, Saint Patrick’s Day is a day to celebrate Saint Patrick, who was the patron saint of Ireland. Saint Patrick lived in Ireland in the late fourth and early fifth centuries, but he wasn’t Irish. He was was a Romano-Briton who was captured by Irish raiders and taken to 
Ireland as a slave. Saint Patrick was the kind of man who, made lemonaid out of the lemons he found himself with. While he was enslaved in Ireland, he made it his goal to become a missionary there, and he is credited with bringing Christianity to the country, as a result. In Ireland, that makes the holiday a religious holiday, similar to Christmas and Easter. These days you can find Saint Patrick’s Day parades, shamrocks, and green Guinness beer in Ireland, but it’s mostly there for the tourists who think that is the right way to celebrate the day. For most of the Irish, however it would not be that way, and in fact, up until 1970 Irish laws mandated that pubs be closed on Saint Patrick’s Day. That is a stark contrast to the way the day is celebrated here, but it doesn’t mean the same thing to Americans.
Like many people, I like to eat corned beef and cabbage and pinch those unsuspecting people who have forgotten their green, and while I don’t drink beer…green or otherwise, I like to have fun with the day. But, I also like to reflect a little bit on my Irish roots. I have several parts of my family who came from Ireland, including my Grandma Byer’s family. She wanted to get in touch with her Irish roots too, and so she and her siblings took a trip back to the old country, where they saw the castles, and cemeteries, kissed the Blarney Stone, and visited all the other sites, and I believe they met some of the family who still lives there too. It wasn’t Saint Patrick’s Day when she went, but they really had a good time.
It seems impossible that I have been a grandmother for twenty years now, but with this birthday, my first grandchild, Christopher Petersen turns twenty. We were so excited about his impending birth…and then he was here. Like his mother, he had arrived on his great grandmother’s birthday. There was excitement all around. As Christopher grew, we were treated to his smiling face, his cute little animal sounds, and his antics. He loved throwing all the clothes out of the clothes basket, and climbing in instead. Every time he did something new, he was so pleased with himself. Chris loved being the funny man. Still, as much as Chris liked the funny side of life, I can also tell you that Chris is a young man of deep feelings too. He is sensitive to the needs of other people, and he hates hurting anyone’s feelings.
Chris is very close to his parents, Corrie and Kevin Petersen, and his brother, Josh. Leaving home for college, while a great experience, has been hard of Chris too. He reminds me a lot of myself in that way, because I like living in the same place as my family. I know that doesn’t work out for everyone, but for me, and for Chris…we really wish it would. I can see Chris coming home after college, and opening his own restaurant. It has been a dream of his for some time now. College, for Chris, has been a means to an end. It remains to be seen, what kind of cuisine Chris will choose, but I think he has some ideas in mind, and he is a great chef!!
For Chris, there is no greater hobby than working on cars…especially hot cars. I think he gets that from his dad and both grandpas. Chris has a Camaro that he loves to work on, and whenever he is home from school, he, his brother, Josh, and their dad can be found out in the garage or in the front driveway working on their respective cars or trucks. It’s a great way for them to bond…and to have great cars too.
With all that the guys do together, they still don’t forget about the one female in the family, my daughter, Corrie. I would love to say that they treat her like a princess, and really they do, but she has to be the most picked on princess ever, because they all love to tease her. That is something the boys learned from their dad, Kevin. They can tell you a story with a straight face, and make you believe it…or at least wonder. That is one of their best talents, and Chris is one of the best kidders. Today is Chris’ 20th birthday. I can’t believe it. Happy birthday Chris!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
When I think of my grandmother, Harriet “Hattie” Byer, the person that comes to mind is Grandma as she was in my adult years. f course, by that time, she was a great grandmother many times over, and so had aged into the kind of grandma you always see on television…gray hair and somewhat wrinkled. In reality, it is television’s view of what a grandmother should look like that is warped in many cases…odd since they try very hard to make everyone else forever ageless. It’s not that I don’t remember the Grandma of my youth, it’s just that I really don’t think of her that way. That wasn’t what she was like as she aged, and I was at an age to place a specific memory of her in my memory files. Nevertheless, when it came to being the boss, the kidder, or the disciplinarian, all I can say is, don’t let her looks or her small stature fool you, because Grandma was in charge, and that’s all there is to it. Just ask anyone of her kids, grandkids, or 
great grandkids, who might have had the misfortune of cross her. Most of us were done crossing Grandma, but there were some who were brave enough to try again…if you call that bravery. There might be a different word for it, in reality.
When I was little, my family lived in Superior, Wisconsin. That made it hard for her to see my sister, Cheryl Masterson and me when we were little. Grandma and Grandpa did make trips up to see us, and really loved it. Mom and Dad showed them around the area, and they spent time with us too. I don’t remember those visits, but my guess is that my sister, Cheryl does, because she was a couple of years older than I was. I love looking at the pictures of those visits with my grandparents. They are precious to me now, because of course, my parents, Grandpa, and Grandma are in Heaven now. Looking back at those moments by the lake, at the house, and on trips we took, are such wonderful memories.
We moved back to Casper before I turned three, and then we had chances to see them more often. I remember those many visits to their house so well. I can’t say I was one of those kids who learned from her mistakes, but I don’t remember very many times that I was on the wrong side of Grandma. You might call me chicken…and you would be right…either that, or smart. When Grandma spanked, it hurt. Thankfully I outgrew those days, and in the end, I remember my sweet grandma as a little old lady with gray hair. Nevertheless, she was mine, and my sisters and cousins…and we loved her. Today would have been Grandma Byer’s 107th birthday, if she were still with us. Happy birthday in Heaven, Grandma. We love and miss you very much.
My youngest sister, Allyn Spencer Hadlock was born when I was 7 years old, so by the time I married when I was almost 19, she was just 12 years old. That was really just about the time she was coming into her own. Really, before that time, she was mostly the baby sister, and even at the time that Allyn and my other two younger sisters, Caryl Spencer Reed and Alena Spencer Stevens sang at my wedding, Allyn seemed like such a little girl…especially when I look at the pictures of the girls on my wedding day.
Little did we know about all the amazing abilities my baby sister would have as an adult. Allyn is someone I would trust in any office setting. She has been an insurance agent, a billing specialist in a medical office, as well as in a radioligy office and an oxygen supply office. In the middle of her employment history, when she was getting married herself, Allyn discovered her ability to make silk flower bouquets. In fact, her own wedding was the first, and they were beautiful. Since that time, she has become 
the family florist, because as we all know, silk flower bouquets are so much better. They always look amazing, and they become a permanent memory for the bride and groom.
Other than being a mother, I think that Allyn’s greatest and most favorite role is that of grandma. Allyn is currently grandma to Ethan and Aurora Hadlock, the children of her son Ryan and his wife, Chelsea, but I know that she is looking forward to more grandchildren in the future. As grandma, Allyn gets to be a kid again. That is a big thing for grandmothers, as most of them will tell you. Allyn and her grandkids love to play in the leaves in the fall, and of course, watch all the latest 
cartoons. I really had no idea just how much fun cartoons could be…until I had my own grandkids. I’m sure she feels the same way.
Allyn also loves to travel to see her daughter, Lindsay Moore, and her husband, Shannon, who live in Miami, Florida right now, but are in the process of moving to Greenville, North Carolina. I’m not sure how Allyn feels about this latest move, because she has really enjoyed the trips to Florida in the winter. It made for a great escape from the frozen Wyoming winters. Nevertheless, I know that if Lindsay and Shannon are there, they will be happy to visit. Today is Allyn’s birthday. Happy birthday Allyn!! Have a great day!! We love you!!
I can’t think of Groundhogs Day without thinking of my husband, Bob’s grandmother, Vina Leary Schulenberg Hein, who was born on that day. I don’t suppose that first Groundhog’s Day mattered much to her or to her parents. They were too busy having a new baby to think about whether or not it would be an early spring. I think later on though, Grandma liked sharing her birthday with Groundhog’s Day…at least we all knew that she thought it was special, because she did mention it a few times.
Groundhog’s Day is one I have a love/hate relationship with. If the groundhog predicts an early Spring, I love the day, but if he predicts six more weeks of winter…I want to slap him. By February, I think most people are ready for Spring to arrive…my sister, Cheryl Masterson being the exception to that rule. Since she loves Winter, the thought of an early Spring is reason to slap the groundhog, but if he promises an early Spring, I’ll gladly protect him from my sister. So fear not Punxsutawney Phil…I’ll save you. If you predict an early Spring, that is. If not…watch out for me!!
Bob’s grandmother would have been 107 this Groundhog’s Day…if she were still with us. I miss her a lot. I was always short on grandparents, because my dad’s dad passed away before my parents were married, and my dad’s mom passed away when I was six months old. Growing up, all we had were my mom’s parents, and they were both gone by 1988. By 2004 all the grandparents were gone, and I miss each and every one of them. I was grateful to have Bob’s grandparents to be my own too. They always made me feel welcome.
Every year as Groundhog’s Day approaches, I find myself looking for the upcoming weather reports for Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, since that is where Punxsutawney Phil lives. I have often wondered how a groundhog in Pennsylvania could predict the coming Spring in Wyoming, but they say he does. Nevertheless, every time he predicts six more weeks of Winter, I hope he fails in that years prediction. They say he is never wrong, but I think he certainly could be…especially when we have cloudy weather here, so seeing his shadow would not be an option here. This year they predict partly cloudy weather for Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, so an early Spring doesn’t seem likely, but I can dream can’t I. Today would have been Grandma Hein’s 107th Groundhog Birthday. Happy birthday in Heaven Grandma. We love and miss you very much.
As my niece, Chantel Balcerzak became a grandmother a month ago, when her son Jake Harman and his fiancé, Melanie Price welcomed their daughter, Izabella Siara Harman into the world, I started thinking that like most mothers, the rite of passage to grandmother had suddenly occurred for Chantel, bringing with it a big change. As mothers, we sometimes find it very hard to believe that our child could actually be a parent. They were just babies a few days ago, right? How is it possible that they have babies of their own already? I think that for most parents, the first thought is do these kids really know what they are doing? Of course, in most cases, they do…its just our perception that clouds our thoughts. As with most parents, new or seasoned, the baby is very vocal about whether or not they are happy. If the parents just check the normal things babies are upset about, they can figure it out pretty quickly.
So, the rite of passage is often with the grandparents, and usually the grandmother, who has the misperception 
that this baby, now parent, can manage to take care of and raise this new little person…grandma’s little sweetheart. That is the problem, of course. This is grandma’s little sweetheart, and Chantel raised Jake…whether her mom, Cheryl Masterson, thought Chantel could do it or not, just like my sister, Cheryl raised Chantel, whether our mom, Collene Spencer thought she could do it or not. The babies are now grown up and they can raise children of their own. They have gone through that rite of passage into parenthood, just like the parents have transitioned into grandparents.
Before long, that period of disbelief in the new parents’ ability to do this fades away, because they are doing it and doing it well. Now the new grandparents have the time and ability to relax and enjoy this new little baby…which is what being a grandparent is all about, right. You get to have the baby at the best of times, and give the baby back to the parents at the worst of times. Of course, like most grandparents, you find yourself wanting to help out to make life a little bit 
easier for the tired parents. But then what would grandparenting be if not to give the parents a much needed break sometimes.
As Chantel, her husband Dave, Jake and his fiancé, Melanie embark on this new journey, I know that they will have the greatest of times. Little Izabella is a sweet baby, and I know she will grow into a beautiful little girl. She will learn lots of new things from her big sister Alice, and this family will be a great blessing to their grandparents and great grandparents. I only wish my mom, Jake’s great grandma, Collene Spencer, and my dad, Jake’s great grandpa, Allen Spencer, could have been here to meet our little Izabella.
