Noet All

Memories Are In The Mind...

2009-11-07T13:57:57-08:00

Hello All!

This is something I wrote years ago about my grandmother moving away from the home she lived in during my childhood. It was a house my grandfather partially built before he passed away when I was 16, and it was on five acres of wooded land in Springfield, OR.

This essay came up the other day in a conversation I had with someone, so I've pulled it out to share with the world. I hope you like it =-)

Best, Noetical.

MEMORIES ARE IN THE MIND

My grandmother told me yesterday that she bought a new house. I know what follows. She is going to sell the old house that is the only place that I really consider "home." I had a rather migrant childhood, and the memories from that old house, with woods for a backyard, seem to be the only memories that I didn't get through a car window.

I can't think of any one interesting story that happened there because they all melt together into a collage of mostly happy times. There are no beginnings or endings to these memories, and I don't think I could find a climax within any of them, even if I tried. Nonetheless, in my lifetime, we had about eight Easter-egg hunts, fourteen summer vacations, and thirteen Christmases in that home. As I sit here trying to write about all the memories that fill my mind, it is a terrible strain even to describe the furniture, the rooms, or the smells, all of which I know so well. I can only try to turn them into words.

I guess my favorite part is the woods out back. I especially love their smell, because the air is thick with cedar scent. As I walk along the path, I move prickly, spider web-draped branches out of my way. They quickly snap back as my body passes by. My feet rustle through the moist ground that is blanketed with trampled twigs and pine needles. Passing by each well-trodden point in the path, I think I remember slices of my childhood. I know that I once chopped wood with Grandpa over there in that clearing, and I think that between those two trees is exactly where I once walked smack into a giant spider web, complete with a giant spider.

More than remembering particular happenings, though, I remember that those woods were a place for exploration, fantasy, and also a place that I could share with my family. I used to love to ramble through the maze of Douglas-firs and find hiding spots of little elves or of similarly tiny and fantastic creatures. But more special than anything else about the woods was that they belonged to my father and grandfather too.

I loved to roam the woods with Grandpa, looking for fallen trees to split into firewood with his wedge and sledgehammer. The hammer was big and heavy, and I must have been quite a sight, heaving that big old thing above my slight nine-year-old shoulders. But Grandpa was always patient as he watched me discover my own strength and power.

I also spent many hours exploring here with my daddy. He would point out mushrooms and flowers, and occasionally we would find beautifully crafted arrowheads, left behind long ago. Here both my grandfather and my father loved me and paid attention to me.

By mid-day, it is the warmest, and the sun is at its highest. But still it is not too bright here, below the trees, as their shadow covers the ground like a knit afghan, with just enough light streaming through the holes to let me know it is still day.

Leaving the woods behind now, I walk back up to the house. I go through the garage to get to the back door. Walking up the steps, they creak faintly under my feet. I can smell the familiar musty scent as only damp wood and cold mountain air can create. The door opens easily, and I step into the warm home where, at least in spirit, my grandfather is still alive and my parents are still married.

Just to my right is the bathroom that Grandpa always used to shave in. He had an old-fashioned cup of shaving cream and a big brush. He would swish the brush around in the cup and then cover his scruffy face with suds. To tell the truth though, I think for all the years I was alive, he used twin-blade disposable razors.

To my left is the room my brother and I used to sleep in. Straight ahead lies the kitchen, a favorite spot for all grandchildren. This was the place where we ate homemade blueberry hotcakes on Saturday mornings. It was also the site of the making of many batches of cookies, many fresh biscuits, and many luscious fruit pies. Grandma rolled everything out on that kitchen table with the old green plastic table cover. This is also where we stretched peanut brittle and frosted Christmas cookies, my two favorite things to make and eat.

That doorway leads to the living room and Grandma used to hang mistletoe there at Christmas time. Once I caught Uncle Norman under there and let him have it with a big slobbery kid kiss. Right through that doorway is Grandpa's chair, an overstuffed easy chair with a matching ottoman. He used to sit there and read the paper at night. Before bed I would climb into his lap and kiss his bald forehead goodnight.

There is a small cold hallway, with doors on either side, which leads from the living room to the master bedroom. I always think of that room as being cold. I guess that's because it was usually morning when I went in there. I used to love to wake up Grandma and Grandpa in the mornings. My grandfather was pretty Scotch and would always turn off the heat at night, which made for some cold mornings. I remember how the cold linoleum floor would burn against my bare feet, warm and swollen from a night of sound sleep.

On the bedroom wall hang three portraits, one of each of my grandmother's children. I remember one summer when my parents left my brother and me to stay there for two months. After the first month, I began to miss my mommy and daddy terribly. Every day of that month, I went into that room to stare at that High School portrait of my father. Sometimes I was sure that he blinked or even smiled at me.

The whole house and its grounds have become an anachronism for me, because they aren't so much a place of being anymore, but rather a place in time. The other day I broke down on the phone to a woman I love dearly, and who has lived in that home for over forty years. In those forty years, she raised three children, buried two parents and two in-laws, watched six grandchildren come into the world, and buried a beloved husband. This month she will move into a new house. There can be no doubt that her sorrow in leaving is much more complex than mine, but there can be none more poignant than that of a woman who sees her childhood sold, never to be seen again.

But memories are in the mind, aren't they?

— Alita Holly

What I Need to Know...

2009-10-31T21:09:49-07:00

My Grandma is sick and I need to know if she's going to be okay. If not...I need to know if she knows how much I love her...how much I have and always will look up to her. I need to know the secret of her strength. How is it that she's managed to live all these year since the love of her life, my grandfather, passed away.

It's been more than two and a half decades since the father of her children, the man who sent her love letters from World War II, left her side. She's endured almost as many years of excruciating pain from the surgery that cut cancer from her chest, but left nerve damage that reminded her hourly of the knife that saved her life. I need to know if that strength is something in her genes and if I inherited some of it. I need it now.

I'm outside waiting for dinner to cook. I'm cooking the rice meatballs she taught me to make last time I visited her. They've always been my favorite of her dishes...and I have many. I have her pancake recipe written on the inside flap of my "Joy of Cooking" cookbook. I need to know if I've asked her how to make all the other things I love...what about the peanut brittle...do I have that recipe?

Have I asked her to tell the story about how she fell in love with my Grandpa enough times to remember it? If not...has my Dad memorized it? ...What about the stories she hasn't told me yet? Shit! (...oh no, she'd wash my mouth out with soap for that!)

There are so many things I need to know...but one thing I do know...I'm not ready to lose my Grandma. It can't be her time yet...I hope she knows.

Tweetable #Quotes of the Week:

2009-08-30T11:31:25-07:00

Below are some quotes I found today that I liked. If you like any of them too, just click on the corresponding "Tweet this #QUOTE" link, and you will be able to tweet it. Enjoy!

Best, @Noetical

“The actions of men are the best interpreters of their thoughts.” ~John Locke
Tweet this #QUOTE!

“Don't wait. The time will never be just right.” ~Napoleon Hill
Tweet this #QUOTE!

“We are all geniuses up to the age of ten.” ~Aldous Huxley
Tweet this #QUOTE!

“Life is like music; it must be composed by ear, feeling and instinct, not by rule.”~Samuel Butler
Tweet this #QUOTE!

“No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible.” ~Voltaire
Tweet this #QUOTE!

“The best way to appreciate your job is to imagine yourself without one.” ~Oscar Wilde
Tweet this #QUOTE!

Tweetable #Quotes of the Day:

2009-07-28T15:47:09-07:00

Below are some quotes I found today that I liked. If you like any of them too, just click on the corresponding "Tweet this #QUOTE" link, and you will be able to tweet it. Enjoy!

Best, @Noetical

“All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered;
the point is to discover them.” ~Galileo Galilei
Tweet this #QUOTE!

“Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please.” ~Mark Twain
Tweet this #QUOTE!

“Reading without reflecting is like eating without digesting.” ~Edmund Burke
Tweet this #QUOTE!

“War is a poor chisel to carve out tomorrow.”
~Martin Luther King, Jr.
Tweet this #QUOTE!

“We are all born ignorant, but one must work hard to remain stupid.” ~Benjamin Franklin
Tweet this #QUOTE!

So Long, and Thanks for All the @Mentions...

2009-07-23T18:41:57-07:00

Dear Readers:

Yes it's true. The @MonkeyButler Bots are no longer an endangered species, they are officially extinct! They've all been SUSPENDED, thanks to all of you who have blocked them. While we've been triumphant in our efforts, I am also aware that this campaign has disappointed the tens of thousands^* hundreds of followers who sought the services of @FollowerMonitor
^*Twitter's recent follower purges of spam accounts have reduced the followers of @FollowerMonitor by tens of thousands of followers to only 1,291 as of 23 JULY 2009 at 10:55 AM PDT.

As such, I thought it appropriate to post an update and a postscript. First of all, I will begin with two comments posted by @FollowerMonitor himself. Following are his two comments:

@FollowerMonitor said on July 23, 2009 at 02:59 PM...

@Noetical, I apologise for the your @mentions getting filled but I only serve the people. What started as something I did for just my friends and me became an overnight sensation as I picked up 10,000 followers in three weeks when I was only ever expecting a dozen of friends to enjoy my unique talents.

I do encourage people not to get angry or upset when people unfollow them as one of the strengths of twitter is asynchronous connections.

In addition, while I understand why people get upset, I encourage people to have the courage of their convictions when they unfollow someone. There is no shame is unfollowing.

Again I apologise for adding noise to your @mentions.

Kind Regards,
@followermonitor

P.S. I have one point of contention and that is being called the Overlord of our little menagerie in the bunker. My pigeons and monkeys are indispensable but they are here of their own free will.

@followermonitor said on July 23, 2009 at 04:10 PM...

I would like to declare my monkey butlers an endangered species (there were only 19 of them). As unsporting as it was and as sad a day as it is, I can only extend my hand and say well played madam, well played.

Rather than continue the comment thread, I've decided to post my response here:

Dear @FollowerMonitor:

First of all, let me thank you for being so wonderfully civil in your response to my efforts to exterminate your poor little bots. In response to your civility, I have changed your title from "OVERLORD" and removed the direct link to block your account.

I have to admit that I think your concept is an excellent one. My initial response was to consider following you myself, so that I might get your alerts as well. But then, as you know, I began to feel plagued by the clutter of your tweets in my @mentions. I want to assure you that I have no actual animosity toward you. Just as you used your talents to provide your friends and others with a service, I too used mine to help others, who were annoyed by your service.

The unquestionable popularity of your service is even more evidence that your idea was and is an excellent one. On the other hand, the fact that enough tweeters chose to use this tool as a means to get your @MonkeyButler Bots suspended, proves that your implementation needs rethinking.

As I mentioned to you in a tweet, I believe the best solution is for you to DM your alerts to your followers. That would eliminate the problem of others being notified that they've unfollowed someone...which presumably they already know. I know that makes it difficult for you to use your bots to spread the load. On the other hand, I have confidence that you are creative enough to figure out a clever workaround for that. I look forward to the next iteration of your service. As soon as it is one that both serves your subscribers and doesn't annoy everyone else, I will be happy to Tweet about its virtues at the top of my lungs (or wings, as the case may be.)

In the meantime, I am still getting complaint comments about your account continuing to clutter the @mentions of other tweeters. While I've removed the direct "block-link" to your account for the time being, I suggest you regroup and figure out a better implementation before your account is suspended too. @FollowerMonitor is the perfect name for the service I hope you will create, which alerts without annoying. Whether you take my suggestion of using DMs, or find an even more clever way of acheiveing your goal, I wish you luck.

P.S.: My point of contention with you is being called "unsporting." The "tool" I have offered here is merely a way for others to block you and your @MonkeyButler Bots easily. I could have devised an auto-block anti-spam bot that didn't rely on the preferences and actions of other tweeters. That would have been unsporting. Your bots were suspended because enough tweeps were annoyed to the point that they were willing to go through the process of blocking each one. As a test, I used my own tool to block each @MonkeyButler myself. While it made it easier, it took 15-20 minutes to go through the entire process of blocking each one. Anyone who went through that entire process must have been committed to eliminating them from their twitterverse. In addition, I'm sure there were plenty who blocked your @MonkeyButlers manually, without my help. The market has spoken: Excellent product, poor implementation. The ball is in your court. ;^D

Best regards, Noetical

UPDATE:

In order to facilitate more input regarding the @FollowerMonitor Service, I've created a TwtPoll with a few of the modifications suggested by both me and @FollowerMonitor. Please vote on the solution you believe would make you most likely to use the service yourself. For those who would never use this service, there are options for you too!