Ode to Step-Mothers and Grandmothers.

It has been an interesting week and got me reminiscing about my step grandmothers. Mike and I spent the last seven days working on his daughter’s new home in Columbia MO. It is the first time, really, that I have spent an appreciable amount of time with Stephanie and her adorable little boy Eli (it’s spelled with a “y”, why no it’s spelled with an “i”). We painted and painted. And I got to do a little art work for Eli myself. It felt good.. Good because he loved his new room. Good because I felt like it was a gift that I could give that showed a part of me. Good because it gave Stephanie and I a chance to bond and get to know one another. Here is my gift to Eli

Ethel the Elephant
Gilly the Giraffe and Harry the Hippo
Tommy the Toucan

Of course it has been a long time in coming, us meeting and all. Divorce for Mike and his family has been rather hard and as I know all too well, the kids are often in the middle, torn between the happiness of one parent and the sadness and despair of another. I too have been there. I watched my parents’ divorce, the repercussions of which still are felt today. I have a continued loving relationship with the happy parent and the tension, anger and regret with the unhappy one. Their separation and divorce was 20 years ago, with the failure of the marriage decades in the making. So, how does one become a step mom and not make the kids feel badly—badly for their mother and badly because they are happy for their father? Interestingly, I had two wonderful step grandmothers to serve as examples-Grandma Ginny and my Oma, Liesel.

When I was just a year old or so, my Grandfather remarried a lovely woman: Virginia (now that is the way to start a great relationship—a fabulous name after a fabulous state that is home to Mecca aka Monticello) Harris—known to me as Grandma Ginny. Apparently there was a bit of drama between Grandpa, Grandma Ginny and my Grandma Liz (my Mom’s mom). Something involving alcohol, claims of ownership over me, the baby granddaughter, storming in and out (you get the picture)…that ultimately resolved very well. Grandma Ginny was the dream grandma. She had this big house in Festus (what seemed like “over the river and through the woods” from South County) and when we went there she always cooked fried chicken, dumplings and homemade biscuits. They were like butter I tell you. Along with her, came her children (my new Aunts and Uncles) and their kids (my new cousins) and that was the best. I now had real live relatives. Fun, spunky. Those were great memories down there. Grandma Ginny was kind and she had the greatest laugh ever. She wrote me letters all the time even into adulthood until she passed away. She was the comfort food of Grandmothers. She even had pieced ears! Wow! And you know as a kid, she was just my Grandma. I didn’t know or even care that we were not blood related. I loved her and her family like they were my very own. And the funny thing is I think my Mom had a real connection with her and loved her more than her own mother. I’m not making a judgment about that because, my mom and her mother were never close or had a great relationship. So, I am glad that my mom had Grandma Ginny. I mean, really, is there anything wrong with having more people love you??? Is there anything wrong with have more family to enjoy and love and share life events with?

Grandma Ginny and Grandpa

And the really interesting part is that whenever we all got together over the years—my Grandpa, Grandma Ginny and Grandma Liz, the three of them acted like they were old chums. I mean, they really did get along just fine in the end. I thank Mom for making them come together for holidays. And I’m sure it was hard for my Grandma Liz at first, but she drank a few beers before hand and did it for us, for me and my brother. And after a while, Grandma Liz stopped caring about the hubbub and probably realized that she was happier without Grandpa. I mean she always thought he was a stick in the mud and so “good riddins” she used to say. She was a party animal and quite frankly he cramped her style. So, I thank them all for making it through. I thank God I had Grandma Ginny, the perfect step-mother and grandmother.

Yep that's my Grandma Liz in the center. Step Grandma Ginny on the right and Grandpa on the left.

And for the second step-grandma—or ”Oma” as they call them in Germany, I had Liesel. I had a completely different, but equally as good, relationship with my father’s step mother. My Dad’s mother, who I called “Omie”, died when I was only six years old. I loved her dearly. But, my grandfather, called “Opa”, was lost without her (at least as I saw it) and met a lovely lady, named Liesel. They got married in Kentucky just about 9 months after Omie died. Liesel brought with her, a son and family that lived in Kentucky. They too were cherished by me as I grew up. They welcomed me to their home and I spent many a summer day and night in my beloved Somerset, Kentucky. I went to state fairs, saw horse shows and met boys who were perfectly southern. My Aunt Jan introduced me to her family and they took us to the Lake Cumberland for unforgettable summer memories. I got all of that because Liesel was my step-grandmother.

Now she was not your typical Oma. She didn’t cook, so she always had fabulous Jewish deli food when we came over. And since she had been friends with my Omie, their friendships with other Holocaust survivors continued. Whenever they got together, whenever they didn’t want us kids to know what they were saying, they would start talking German! Yes, my Omie, Opa and Liesel (along with their friends) were Holocaust survivors. You have no idea the richness that their lives, their experiences, their losses and their stories have had on my life.
Oma and Ryan (circa 1983)

Liesel’s family I Germany, fearing the worst under Hitler, wrote a letter to a very distant relative in the states (in St Louis) and asked them to meet their 16 year old Liesel at the dock in New York. Not knowing whether anyone would greet her, Liesel bravely came to America, alone, speaking only German, fearing the worst for her family and fearing that her relatives wouldn’t be there to meet her. But they were. Liesel and ultimately her father came to America and they survived in St. Louis making noodles in their one room apartment. Wow! Can you imagine that today? We can’t leave our kids for a second without a cell phone, texts, email, Facebook, twitter. Can you imagine being so afraid for your child that you send her off to the unknown hoping, praying the cosmos will take care. But, I didn’t even know this story until I was an adult. I just knew growing up that she was, well, Liesel. And I guess because my Opa begged me and even tried to bribe me ($10), that I could never call her Oma. I just couldn’t. Maybe I wasn’t brave or maybe I thought I owed something to Omie. It something I regret all these years later. Liesel too was kind, generous and loved me like I was her grandchild. She loved Ryan too. She was my Oma.

My brother Peter and Me and our new cousins, Julie and Jeremy from Kentucky.

So you see, having step parents/grandparents can be magnificent. It starts hard, no doubt, but I hope I can bring to Mike’s grandchildren love, fun, warmth, and memories for a lifetime. And for his kids, I hope they will consider me their friend one day, even love me as I already do them.

Sweet Adeline- The Standard of Good

In June 2003, my god-daughter was born. Adeline Marie Palmquist. She is the 3rd beautiful daughter of my best friend, Jill. It was such an honor to have Jill and Allen ask me to be her Godmother, especially since my faith in God has been tested on a few occasions. Jill and Allen are devote Catholics and have made their love of God and faith of primary importance in their lives and in the raising of their five children (Christopher, Elise, Theresa, Addie and Billy). I think they are blessed and deservedly so. And, next week, Addie will have her First Communion, a momentous occasion that I am sure will lead her to a life of belief and faith in God. For her, a desk...hopefully to write down her thoughts, fix her makeup one day and as a token of my love for her.

Now you must understand, Jill and Allen are a shining beacon to me as I have navigated the fog of life. I have been adrift for a long time, wondering how to be a good person and finding that the path to righteousness is not an easy one. I have thought a lot of how to be a good Godmother and what it meant to be that special person in Addie’s life. I am not a devout Catholic…I’m not sure I’m devout about anything (except possibly being a devout fan of many things—John Denver, Russell Crowe, Michael Chiklis, Colin Firth, chocolate, historic buildings, old movies, a good afternoon nap, French toast, Virginia (although that is sort of a religion to me), the Very Modest Cottage, horses, little girls (especially Addie, Elise, Theresa, Ashley, Mackenzie and Madison), crafting to name few). Devotion to God is an entirely different category. Over the years, I have had more than a few pointed conversations with Him. Often I think, “what am I doing wrong?” Well I know the answer to that, really. I suppose to most I am hard on myself and to others, not quite hard enough. Nearly all my questionable decisions (in God’s eyes or yours, possibly) don’t arise out of maliciousness, but rather from a place of love: to love to be loved. I don’t know if God approves or not. I suppose the answer will have to wait for when I am sleeping on the wrong side of the grass. Until then, I guess what I do or say should be judged by one simple rule, one I think God would approve: is this something (whether behavior or words) that I am happy to teach Addie, dear sweet Adeline? Pretty good metric, I think. And after all isn’t being a Godmother all about being a good example really? If I have failed God, I’d like to think He understands my struggles and has not given up on my yet. I am a good person, flawed, but good. And in the end, isn’t that what Jill and Allen most wanted from me as the Godmother of their precious Adeline? I hope so.

Madeline's Little Black Desk with Tiffany Blue Jewels

What girl doesn’t want to get a Tiffany blue box with the perfect white satin ribbon? Over the years I have gotten a few and I can tell you it is a thrill every time. My best friend Jill has a niece named Madeline. She is the perfect representation of the elegance and grace one thinks of when thinking of what might be in that Tiffany blue box: diamonds or pearls. The outside is so intriguing; the surprise is really what is inside. I met Madeline when she first arrived into the Dude (Palmquist) family and I am always impressed with not only Madeline’s beauty, but her lovely manners and welcoming hug. Now, I am not a member of the family, but everyone treats me so, especially Madeline. She is lovely. So I was thrilled to be asked to find and paint a desk for her—in glossy black, like the little black dress, with Tiffany blue miniature cabinets.

Of course no such attire is complete without some subtle but appropriate sparkle, some bling. I searched high and low for the knobs and found the gems that I think give her desk the perfect accessory to her perfectly complete wardrobe. I cannot wait to see how Madeline grows into womanhood. I know she will be lady, in the truest sense of the word.

My space

I have been thinking a long time about having a space to create--whatever. Ihave more cut outs from magazines of cottages and craft rooms than you can imagine. I love to create, craft, paint or whatever creative thing I feel like doing. Until now it has always been a chore getting all my craft crap out and so for years I wouldn't do a thing. Ask Ryan, his high school scrap book is still not complete and Matt Lewis has been waiting about 8 years for his vacation scrap book. I swore to him it would be done before his wedding and darn if he didn't go and get engaged!

I diverge.

(a hug for making my dream come true)

My craft room was built a few years ago under the fabulous hands of Mike and his
crew. It started off with me asking him to build a wall, you know so I can tack ideas up. Well, then it became a room and then a bathroom and well that is as far as we got. It is darn cute.




Well this is just a fine room for one person crafting alone...which is me most of the time. However, when others come over they immediately want to craft, but no way can two or three of us craft at the same time. So I thought maybe an expansion was in order. Not too much because I do have plans for a major basement reno and man cave. ( a renovator's work is never done!)

Then this whole job loss thing-need money thing-get inspired in Wisconsin thing-finally having a real space to create thing-what the what the heck thing-happens. Now painting outside is great but it isn't too great on 15 degree days or 100 degree days. So I started bring my desks in from the garage and painting them in the unfinished and uncluttered part (yeah I know, where would that be?). Anyway, it was sad.


So I started to decorate. Mike and I found some discarded cabinets on the road and repurposed them for my sink area.


Cute think. I expanded my craft room color scheme into the new Craft Room Annex and Studio. Now I don't have to rinse out paint brushes in my new pedestal sink in the bathroom. I actually made the little curtain under the sink. It was no big deal, since I had to fix Ryan's jeans anyway.

I also purchased a large trestle table at the auction and covered it in oil cloth so I can have friends over to "craft". Laura, Ashley and Mackenzie came at Christmas time and we had a ball. I also learned what type of space I needed. so I added a few more things--shelves, TV, DVD player, curtains, comfy chair, rugs, and a heater.




I even rehung my poster made by the kids at Barbara C. Jordan Elementary School gave me that had been in my office at City Hall. It makes me sad that I no longer get to go there to work.



But it is the Barbara C. Jordans of the world that keep me motivated. She is one of my heros. You check out her famous speech at http://watergate.info/impeachment/74-07-25_barbara-jordan.shtml It was named one of the ten best speeches in US History. Inspiring. Really. Really, go listen to it. Do it for your country. Really, go. Because you know this whole craft, paint thing is really a hobby. I am a thinker. I am an analyzer. I am a writer. I am an advocate.


So here you have it--Petree's Craft Room Annex and Studio. I hope you enjoyed the tour. Want to buy a desk?

Lois' Million Dollar Red Desk

Lois and Petree (circa 1973)

Once upon a time there were two girls who became the best of friends the day they met in elementary school . There was Petree (on the right) and Lois (on the left). Now our childhood was very different from one another. I lived in a cookie cutter baby boomer house with a mom, a dad, and a brother (pest). My mom was a neat freak (still is) and so our house was not all the hospitable to me having friends over. In fact, for most of my childhood, my dad, my brother and I spent our days in the basement (having fun, really--it was a 60's thing). I longed for a purple room, having a horse, or a dog and, mainly, freedom.

Lois on the other hand, had a hard working Mom who was a single parent (really taboo in those days) who worked at a little diner on Gravois. Lois had a bunch of siblings--5 in all. While her mom was away working, her feisty grandma watched over the house. They also had a dog--a chiwawa (sp?). I LOVED that dog. Her mom had her bedroom in the dining room so that the kids could have the bedrooms. And it was PURPLE! The kids had freedom, they had a dog and they could go to the movies to see R-rated movies. Once Lois was going to see "Billy Jack" at the Crest theatre but my mom wouldn't let me. I was crushed. Ihave no idea why I wanted to go so badly---but I did. Maybe because my cool friend Lois was going!

I adored Lois. One year we went as Sonny and Cher for Halloween. (Hilarious--my mom gave me her long hair wig and it fell in puddle as we dodged the rain that night). We were inseparable. Then we came to cross roads--Junior High. Her free spirit and coolness led her to be friends with the other cool kids, which I decidedly was not (thanks mom for the elastic waist band paints-Yikes). I found other friends who weren't cool either. And so our paths went different ways.

Then...our 30th High School Reunion came along and boom--Lois was in charge. She turned out way cooler (which I am sure surprised my mom who saw nothing but disaster for a child from a single parent home whose mom let them see "BillyJack"!). Lois is now an executive at Mastercard and well, I am unemployed. Anyway, we decided to get dinner together and we talked for about 4 hours and closed the restaurant down. It turns out we have a lot in common and it is as if no time had passed since the 6th grade.

Lois has supported all my furniture painting and has commissioned a red desk. Well, Lois, here it is...it looks more tomatoey than it is. But it's in "million dollar red" --for my long lost million dollar friend.

Theresa's Aqua and Rasberry Polka Dot Desk

Of Jill's three daughters, Theresa is in the middle. Last year she got her own room so that she could play with her dolls, and horses, and organize the family business. She is a feisty, a red-head with a passion for riding horses (like me). I personally knick-named her "Sassafrass"! Almost 11 years old, she is very old for her age, saying some of the funniest things...like the time she called me and left me a message about hooking up for lunch. "Have your people call my people" was the message! Anyway, she wanted a desk of her own...one with lots of drawers for all her valuable writings and drawings. She regularly draws up contracts for the family. She wanted to have polka dots like her big sis, Elise, has on her trunk and of course her name in large letters! So here is Theresa's aqua , rasberry and lime desk and chair--with polka dots and her name:

I can't wait to see how she fills it with her stuff.

And here she is with her baby sister, Addie (my god daughter--next on the list for a desk of some sort):

Love you Sassafrass and Sweet Pea!