Sunday, September 19, 2010

Sundays Are a Drag, and Other Thoughts

How does it go from Friday night to Sunday night so quickly? Traditionally, I begin to get a real down feeling about 3:30 on Sunday. Why? Because my weekend, my free time, is ending.

While talking with my mom today, she said that Sundays are a drag. I couldn't agree more, except I know our definitions of that differ. For her, Sundays are long and boring with nothing to do and nothing on TV. For me, Sundays are a reminder of my free time slipping out of my hands and that soon, Monday will arrive. The weekend will be over and I'll be back to the grind (as they say).

I don't know why I can't seem to get good pictures during daylight, so when it gets dark, I generally think about taking pictures and then they just look like crap. Here's an example. This is a bad picture of the dishtowel I did using spray paint and the stencils I cut from watercolor paper. I do need to try some more of these to get the look I really want.



What I did here was lay the cats and words stencils on the towel and then spritz with the fabric spray paint. I think I got a little carried away and some paint landed in areas that I wanted to remain white. Oh well, it was the first attempt. I am trying to build my inventory so that I can list items on Etsy. Hell, I actually created an Etsy store a year ago and that is as far as it has gotten - being created. I really need to focus on that and really need to do it soon as that is one of my 2010 goals. Plus, I would so hate to fail at that goal (as I have with too many others in the past).

Well, the story of my great grandmother Effie's sister, Edna, is slowing coming together. I got her obituary in the mail on Friday. She died in Denver in 1948 at 72 years old. She had four children that survived, yet only three survived her. As with many women of her era, she gave birth to children that died young. From what I can tell, Edna and her husband Wes, lost at least one child very young. Her oldest son Everett died in Monterey County, California in 1943. He was 42 years old. He died from rheumatic heart failure. Edna's husband Wes had died in 1933. They lived in Laramie, Wyoming, having moved there in 1910. Wes was an engineer with Union Pacific Railroad. From Edna's obituary I learned that her oldest daughter, Rose, was from Denver, so I imagine Edna moved there with her daughter after Wes died.

Edna's younger son, Elzie, was also living in Denver when he died one year later (1949)at 50 years old. Her daughters, Rose and Hazelle ended up in Southern California (I'm not yet sure when or how) and Rose died here in 1960 and Hazelle in 1987. The sad thing is that I was living in a neighboring community to Hazelle in 1987 and never knew of her, let alone knew her. I did get the name of her son from Edna's obituary and I think I've found him living in Orange County, California. I did mention in my earlier post that I was going to reach out to him, but I haven't done that yet and will do so this week.

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