I loved when we left our house on the golf course to come here. I spent 24 years of my life there in the house we had built, many of those years the best of my life. We had several years there full of good friends, taking a big part in helping to raise our granddaughter, our daughter being a single mom at that time, and the best of the good life (and at times, the bad, when we became federal felons). On many occasions, a couple of my non-conformist, non-goody-two-shoes friends (the proverbial doctor's wives, totally unaffected by their would-be status in earlier times) would call me and say, "Call so & so, and let's go to the clubhouse to eat free peel-and-eat shrimp and Margaritas while the guys play golf today." Me: "But I have Moriah." "She'll love it!." Me: "OK!" So, off we'd go to eat shrimp and drink Maggies, ice water and shrimpage dripping off our elbows, laughing and happy drunk, watching the old-money (or wanted us to think that) bitties who objected to our obtrusiveness and laughing about THEM. I'd lived in Mattoon most of my life, and I knew the old moneyed people. They were NOT these people. My friends and I set a new trend at the country club---jeans, sweatshirts, T shirts, etc. I was the longest standing member of Mattoon Golf & Country Club ever when we left. My dad was playing his match on the course when my mom went into labor with me. My uncle took her to the hospital and stayed till my dad could arrive. So, I was literally a member for the biggest part of my life of that club till 5 years ago. My siblings grew up playing golf and swimming on that course. It was a great place for families, and it was safe and taught kids healthy habits while learning sportsmanship and social graces in a caring, responsible way. In the grand days of my dad's reigning championship for well over a decade, the club had ambiance and class. Now, it's a barely struggling-to-stay-alive entity whose still-beautiful grounds are devoid of golfers as opposed to how crowded it has been in the past. I can't forget to tell you, while I'm still thinking of it, when writing about the doctors and previous status in older times, Dick was on a winning team for some hometown organization to raise funds, which was called "3 Docs and a Dick." That's what times were like when our group dominated at Mattoon Golf & Country Club, but sadly, times change as the years march forward. Then, no one cared who were the doctors and who was the dick, so Dick happily played the part of the dick.
Halloween was---at one time in our house on the back nine holes of the course---fun... because of the neighbors' kids and grands coming to trick or treat, but after those younger years, they all left the nest. All we had left to treat were truck and van loads of country kids we didn't know. Some of them brought along with them the stench of hog farms, but fortunately, there was no extra charge to homeowners of Rolling Green residences in property taxes for the nearby breezes of the hog farm in hot, humid weather. Crème de la crème. We then had 3/4 of our basement finished, yielding a great computer/lounge area (all my design on a scap of notebook paper for the contractor, of course), my sewing room, a full bath, and huge family room with fireplace, all making it where we spent most of our time. During that construction was when my kitty rescue time began. I will never forget my little PIB (aka Pain In The Butt, or Pibbie, my 1st of the happy kiltties) running through the basement on the new, tight carpet once installed. She was delighted with the new digs. I've given several kitties wonderful, loving homes, and three have gone on to wait for me at the Rainbow Bridge. I miss them all deeply (as long as I live) but know that I did my utmost at making them important and very happy and loved. That is my legacy to God's creations who might not have had a chance had it not been for me. I am fulfilled and blessed.
By that time, we left our porch light off during Halloween so no one came to trick or treat. It was fine with both of us by that time.
When the close friends began following new directions in their lives, Dick being one golfer who found that his back pain was no longer worth all the fun it had been, and all of us found aging was inhibiting us and the intensity of what had been, Dick decided golf was no longer important, so he sold his golf cart, and we began looking at a couple of other older, well-established neighborhoods within city limits. After having built two great homes in country subdivisions, we had spent 36 years of our lives without city fire protection and police protection. My health had become an issue, and I was ready to move back to our fair little city's roots. The old groups we had been so close with had all become empty nesters and some began following their grown children's lives in other places. I have a very hard time dealing with the emotions of the great times, now over, as only memories, but as one dear friend said to me: "As life goes on, we close those chapters in our lives, and new ones open. They nearly always end with everyone going their separate ways, but they always remember with love." It still hurts me.
How I get from then to now is like a maze, but this book always ends in a way out, and BTW, I've started that book. No promises, but it's my book, whatever that may be. It's actually a cathartic experience to record.
So it was Halloween 2013 when we experienced our first city Halloween in this neighborhood. I was thrilled to be here and experiencing a new way of life. We had been haunting the well-maintained earlier neighborhoods in Mattoon for a couple of years before deciding to ditch the country subdivisions and move into town for our last move. We weren't in a terrible hurry when we began looking, so I had the luxury of deciding what we really wanted after redesigning basic plans from the last two houses we had built. I loved the redesigning of new houses (and our office building of our Internet/computer business). My uncle, who financed our new Internet/computer building, told me to let him know what we needed a building, and I did it on a piece of notebook paper. When I do things, I do it with flair and pizzazz, no doubt about it. Even the architects who drew up the actual drafted plans were impressed with the plan, but the government ended up with it in the end and charged us with it in our federal judgement when the shit hit the fan. We were even paying rent on it without our names on it (don't even know the actual price+ of the building), but it went onto our judgements anyway. Hard knocks, I know, but life is never easy. It's what we make of it that fulfills us.
This house fit the bill and had all on my wish list, and I was thrilled to be starting a new life in a totally different environment. Even in a farm community in the Midwest, there is a big difference in the flavor of town vs. country living. I was ready for the new fit, but there were things I hadn't considered, and three of them were surrounding us---low income housing projects---on the east, on the west, and just south of us. Don't judge me for being skeptical about the trouble we might have. We've never had any major problems because many of these people are here from bigger cities, just trying to raise their families in a safer environment. I respect that and have been treated with respect and kindness, but of course, there are always those exceptions. Like at Halloween, I've had literal gang numbers show up in the afternoon while still bright daylight on my porch asking for candy, wearing no costume and asking for extra bags for the ones at home. I just rarely go to the door now, and if I do, I tell them trick or treating hours don't start till 6:00. Kids with britches hanging off their asses, about 15-16 years old, started showing up during trick or treat hours. Grandmas younger than me started coming up with the little ones, looking like skanks of the night, and asking for their own treat bag for taking out the kids. Like I was supposed to reward them??? For being perfectly skanky grandmas and doing the dirty work for their daughter/son who didn't want to take the kid out door-to-door??? Pissed me off, but I was my perfectly polite sarcastic self, flashed 'em a go-to-hell smile that said, "I got your number, Grandma of the Year, and you don't need this candy, fatty!" Didn't have to say a word. The dazzling smile with 'the look' did the job.
Dear gawd, from whence did that come? It is what I have become. I was left with over half the bags I started with. Last year, I didn't object when one group came three times, but on the third trip, I told them I WAS SICK of seeing them. I totally ran out of candy and had to turn out the light 1/2 hour before quitting time, despite the doorbell still beckoning for an hour after that. My four cats were nervous wrecks the rest of the night, and I was seething. This Halloween left me with half the bags I started with, so don't bring anyone to my house next year because the bags with candy still in them are getting recycled. The chocolate fun bars will look like white dog turds.
I'm going to hell.....
