Janice Williams Loves Austin And sometimes I write about it.

September 24, 2014

Befuddled and bewildered

Filed under: At home,Music,Normal Life — Janice @ 10:16 pm

 

Mark and I saw a news story tonight about the transportation service “Uber” and how it is working in Austin. Mark said a friend he knew was participating and carrying passengers for Uber.

“Who’s doing that?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m having a senior moment and can’t think of his name. It’ll come to me. Piano player.”

“Mike Farrell?”

“No.”

“Hmmmmm… T. Jarrod Bonta?”

“No.”

“Earl Poole Ball? Nick Connally?”

“No, not them.”

“Uhhh… that old guy that looks like you?” (I was having my own senior moment.)

Mark just ignored that one.

“He lives just around the corner. Used to play with Jack Ingram.”

Oh, I think, I should know who was playing with Jack Ingram, but I can only think of Bukka Allen and I knew that wasn’t who he was talking about.

“He also played with Jimmy LaFave, but not Radoslav.” (Okay, he’s an accordion player to me, I don’t ever think of him on keyboards.)

I keep coming back to “played with Jack” but I can’t remember any keyboard players with Jack.

“Oh, it’ll come to me. Give it time.”

We watch Modern Family and another show. Then …

“Chip Dolan!”

“Okay. Sure. Chip Dolan!” I say. “Now what was it we were talking about?”

September 15, 2014

My Nose

Filed under: Childhood Memories — Janice @ 9:07 pm

This week I am having my nose fixed. I am not getting it fixed cosmetically (at least I hope my nose doesn’t appear changed); I am having the septum fixed so maybe I can breathe again.

I have a vivid memory of the day I broke my nose when I was about 8. Our neighbor boys, Danny and David, were at the house one evening. Mom and Dad were outside with me and my sister and all the kids were on bikes. Danny challenged me to a race and I jumped on my pedals and started around the back drive of the house. At that point I looked back to see how far in the lead I was. Danny hadn’t even started to race, obviously sending me off on a fool’s errand. At that point I hit something and it sent me flying over the handlebars and face first into the gravel drive.

I was wearing one of my favorite dresses at the time. This was back when girls still wore dresses on a regular basis and even played in them, especially after school. I remember Mother and Daddy on each side of me, holding an arm and helping me back to the house. Our playing for the day was over.

But the nosebleeds had just begun. It seems to me I was home from school a week and Mother and I were up ALL NIGHT LONG every night with my nose bleeding. I probably am remembering that part wrong, but I do remember a lot of blood. My nose was also swollen at the time. I remember thinking I was particularly funny when I said that Daddy and I looked more alike than we had before because now my nose was as big as his. I even wrote that clever observation in a letter to my grandparents where I told them about the bike wreck. I recently inherited that letter. I remember writing it very clearly and I know I was “grown up” and in my head I am exactly the same person I was then. But, now, re-reading that letter and seeing the scrawled writing, it is obvious it was written by a little bitty girl.

I think it was a full 10 days before we finally went to the doctor to have him look at my nose. This was the 60s, remember. We didn’t run off to emergency clinics for every scrape. We didn’t even HAVE emergency clinics for those things.

I remember the doctor examining my nose and saying that it was crooked and that if I wanted to, I could have it straightened out when I was 18. He said if we had come in as soon as it had happened he would have stuck a rod up my nose and straightened it out, but it was too late at this point. The way he described how he would have straightened it out, I was VERY glad we had not come in earlier.

For a good long time as a kid I was prone to having nosebleeds. My nose never looked crooked so I didn’t worry about what the inside might be like. When we moved to Austin, Mark’s doctor suggested he get his nose fixed and help him to breathe better. It did wonders. I officially had a doctor tell me that I had a deviated septum and I began thinking about having it fixed.

But, boy, making the decision to have a surgery that a doctor doesn’t tell you you have to have is not easy. But I have met my medical deductible this year so it makes this surgery a bargain for me and I decided I couldn’t pass that up.

In the 3 weeks since I saw the doctor for the initial visit, I have not been able to use Afrin. I was not an Afrin addict and didn’t use it ALL the time, but during some seasons I used it regularly (and way more than the 3 days you are supposed to use it) and quite often I do use it at night just so I can breathe and go to sleep. I have done without for almost 3 full weeks now and it has not been easy. I quite often am not breathing through one side of my nose. I am hoping that the surgery is fast and easy and any swelling goes away fast and I’m breathing deeply by this weekend.

Here’s a picture from about the time I broke my nose. There were no child labor laws yet either.

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September 6, 2014

Great-Grandmothers

Filed under: Childhood Memories,Family,Genealogy — Janice @ 11:13 pm

I just saw this picture in my computer;

2005 Cunningham reunion 08

This was taken 9 years ago in 2005 at the Cunningham family reunion. It is my little cousin Annabeth (Susannah Elizabeth… named after ancestors on both sides of her family) with her great-grandmother Dorothy. They are standing beside the gravestone in the Newburg Cemetery of Dorothy’s great-grandmother Trissia Moore, who died in 1940.

Dorothy remembers Trissia, Annabeth will remember Dorothy. I love the connections from generation to generation.

My only memory of my great-grandmother from this side of the family is of Henrietta Hallford, who is also buried nearby in the Newburg Cemetery. I don’t think I ever met her when she was alive. If I did, I was a baby or an infant. I do remember her from her funeral. I remember my mother and Aunt Dorothy (the one in the photo) standing by her casket and commenting on how she looked like she had in life, and there was a mole or facial imperfection on her face that they commented on. This was the first dead body I had ever seen. I don’t remember being particularly scared or having emotion. But I remember the sadness of my mother and aunt for their grandmother.

I did know my great-grandmother from my father’s side well before her death in 1978. I wish I had been more mature and spent more time paying attention to her while I had the chance. But, as it was, I knew her from many visits she made to our house and my grandfather’s house and a visit or two that we made to her house in Cleburne. She died when I was in college. I wish I had been at her funeral. She died when I was on the road with my friend Sandy. I didn’t have “funeral clothes” with me and I wanted to go on home to Amarillo and then return to Winters for the funeral. My parents told me to stay put and not come back down. I obeyed them because it really was a long distance to try to come back across. I feel bad that I wasn’t there, though. But she and I did have SOME communication and a relationship, maybe more than any other of the great-grandkids. I have many letters she wrote to me before she died.

I never knew my great-grandfathers or my other great-grandmothers, but I know the grandparents were very special to my parents. As I do my genealogy I love to see the connections and figure out who knew who. When I visit a grave I am thinking not only of the person buried in the grave, but who was standing on this ground as that casket was lowered. There is always another generation. There is always life. It doesn’t make me sad, it makes me glad that life goes on.

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This is my sister and me with my great-grandmother Williams when she was probably in her 80s.

September 3, 2014

Complainers

Filed under: My Job,Normal Life — Janice @ 10:09 pm

I am trying not to be a complainer. I know I do complain and I know sometimes I make snarky remarks that come across as complaining. Or maybe I say the truth, knowing you will understand that I’m complaining even if I don’t say the actual words (like “I need to go to the grocery store” when I want to say “Augh, I hate this, I don’t want to go to the grocery store.”)

One motivator I have to control my complaining is by listening to others complaining. I won’t name any names, but I know people who can complain about the nicest things. If we are told we can leave at 3 p.m. before the holiday, she might say, “Oh, great, NOW you tell me after I ran all my errands at lunch.” Or the weather is going to be ideal on Saturday, “Well, that sucks, I just wanted to stay inside and watch movies.” Those may sound extreme, but I have heard worse.

I don’t want to sound all Pollyanna, but I am still so darn grateful to have a job each and every day that I don’t want to sound unappreciative of it. I know I complain about some things and, no, lots of days, while it is the ideal job, it isn’t as good as NOT working, but I am still happy to get paid to do what I do and have the flexibility I have and the coworkers and a nice cubicle of my own and a parking garage spot. It’s the little things that are the big things!

September 1, 2014

Habits Habits Habits

Filed under: At home,Normal Life — Janice @ 10:51 pm

I am bound and determined to get back into the habit of blogging. It irritates me so much to go to a person’s blog and see a blog dated 2010 with maybe 3 other entries before it and it says “I am going to start blogging more regularly!” I have decided in September I need to blog more frequently (though I am not making any declarations of how often) even if it is to say, “I had a nice day, how about you?”

One ambition I had for this weekend was to figure out my passwords and secret handshakes to get into my websites again. Blogs, websites, control panels, etc…. they confuse me so. This one I do have set up so it works a little more effortlessly than the website as a whole, but I need to get back and update lots of things on my website.

But instead, I slept a lot this weekend. A lot. An embarrassing amount of lot. But maybe that will make for a brighter week ahead. I have no pictures recording the fabulous weekend I had (since it is hard to take a selfie when you are asleep), so I will offer this instead. The opposite of me:

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