April 15

More about the Omaha relatives, and other scraps

1965
Today is tax day. It's also Good Friday. We didn't go to a service -- we just worked. I guess I might not have time for all that I'd planned. Mom planned a lot for me to do, too, and our plans don't match. Oh well, I'll do what I can.

Comment 2006
I believe my mom was still working part time at the hospital at this point, and as a result, my brother and I inherited lots of the housework. Being a holiday weekend, there would have been additional cleaning, cooking and shopping. Even on an ordinary weekend, my Saturday would have begun with Mom playing Sousa marches at full blast to get us out of bed for morning chores. My usual assignment was cleaning the bathrooms and kitchen. On the one hand, it certainly got me used to a clean house (though I do not do these things on a schedule). On the other hand, it guaranteed that my kids would NOT have regular chores. I gave up on every attempt to have them be responsible for more than their own rooms and homework. (And failed at holding them to that, most of the time.) 

 I was a pretty compliant kid, and usually did my chores with minimal complaining. My brother usually got tasked with vacuuming, yard work and errands (since he had his driver's license). This being the mid-60s, I pretty much bought my mother's explanation that she was training us for adulthood -- so I got the Mommy jobs and Bob got the Daddy jobs. I did NOT keep my own room very clean, and usually accomplished a semblance of order by stuffing things under the bed and into my closet.

1978
It’s the time of day I like best on campus. It’s nearly six o’clock in the evening, and the sun is slanting through the trees. a few scattered squirrels caught my eye. One had no fur on his tail; another stared boldly at me as he retrieved part of last autumn’s horde. Everything seemed so slow, then to nearly stop. I felt like I was back on the beach in Rhode Island, as the narrow shadows slipped past me, amid the sounds of mockingbirds and far-away laughter.
My thoughts turned again to A and how much she hates this place; can I help her see it through my eyes? I feel such a sense of contentment here.

1979
The Situation has resolved itself nicely. The Maryland Fellowship does require me to stay, if a position is offered. I told the Smithsonian curator and she was very understanding, but still encouraged me to apply for the assistant curator position when it is announced. She said having me at Maryland would be nearly as good, as we could collaborate (assuming I can learn how to spell!). Now if I could just finish my degree and get either one of those jobs, life would be a dream sh-boom. I did mucho work this weekend, like a good little scholar. Also played a bit.

1985

We had an exceedingly nice weekend. We even got a lot of yard work done, so the place looks much nicer. Deep inside, I believe we will have another child. At this point it’s just a matter of timing. There was the time I realized that if we waited to have Kiddo until I had time, I’d be retired. Now it’s dawned on me that the place to uncomplicate my life is not at home, but at work. I’m doing too many things at work that don’t need to be done, or that could be done “smarter”. Having another child would mean taking the unnecessary things out of my work life so I could spend less time working and worrying at home. (The next page consists of a two-year plan.)

1989

Mom has decided not to move, but at least this time she was feeling well when she made the decision. The dean’s office position remains up in the air, moving slowly. I need to make it clear to Betty that I really want it, because she’s decided I don’t, and am waiting to fall into the department chairmanship. I do not want to be dept. chair. How would I divide my time between the department and the dean’s office? (Half a page of planning follows.)

1997

The Taurus is still in the shop, so I am walking to work again, which is o.k. It will be a lovely day for a walk and I really need it. My life is way too busy these days, and I am feeling anxious about getting everything done. I know that the semester will end, and the pace will slacken, and I even know that I will not get some of the stuff done. But which?

Thank heaven my person (me) life and family life is on a more even keel. Soccer season ends this weekend, and that will be good!

2006

Another Saturday, another migraine. According to someof the stuff I found onlie, it could be the beers I had yesterday. Whatever. I did have a lovely time with Jim, Beth and Drew. It’s been an excellent week. The curriculum review finally went out, the taxes are done, and work is slowing down as we pass the busiest time of registration season. I finally feel on top of my work, for the first time in about a month. This happens every semester. Why am I surprised?

2023

In 1973, I was so busy enjoying my visit with Aunt Carol and Uncle Joel that I didn’t do a journal entry, , but here are a couple of photos instead:

Left: Uncle Joel and cousin Laurie. Right: Aunt Carol and Mom

That’s Joel, the Air Force officer, with the youngest kid, Laurie. I suspect that the reason I had no time to write was that the four little cousins kept me too busy! We had plans to visit Fremont, the town where I was born, about an hour west, but the weather was too miserable for playing tourist. Laurie is now a fifty-something grandmother, in addition to being very buff fitness instructor.

Mom and Carol looked and sounded so much alike that I was constantly mistaking one for the other. After my mother died, it was hard for me to visit Carol or even talk on the phone, because she reminded me so strongly of Mom. They were the musical ones; Carol majored in music in college and could always find work as a church organist or paid soloist wherever Joel was posted. Mom also had a beautiful soprano voice and had played piano and organ for their father’s churches before going off to nursing school during WWII. Eventually, after she and my dad divorced, she went back to school and got the music degree she always wanted, graduating when she was sixty-one.

Carol, Joel and all of their kids now live in Virginia, not too far away for a visit. Now that COVID is waning, it’s time to see them. Long past time, if I’m honest.

A little echo of 1997: our present car is also in shop, waiting for a part which is apparently hitchhiking from Alaska.

Comment 2024

Uncle Joel died after a very short illness last fall. I spent a weekend in Richmond helping out the various cousins who were tag-teaming care of Aunt Carol, who has slipped into dementia. A sad yet wonderful time.