January 16, 1907 Wednesday This morning I got up and ate my breakfast and went to school early. After school was over I came home and climbed the tree then we Page 15 went down and climbed the bannana tree. We stayed there most of the afternoon and I slid down a branch. I was so scared when a branch split that I nearly fell off the branch. I got down without falling then I was so cold that I went into the house. B and I tried to get the puzzle but couldn’t. We made pictures till it was time for her to go home. Then we had supper then Mama & Mildred went to the automobile show. Margaret and Beatrice came over & played. They went home & then I went to bed.

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Jan 14, 1907 Monday

This morning I got up and ate breakfast. Then I went to school. It is raining. We had one session. After lunch Margaret came over and Beatrice. We played post office. Beatrice was post master and she stamped the letter. Margaret and I wrote letters. After we had played a while we played “Acting Charades.” Then we wrote on the blackboard. I went down to Dale & Canes with Beatrice & when I got home I played solitaire till suppertime. After supper I played solitaire. Then I wrote my diary. It was time for me to go to bed so I went.

Marcy’s fur cap

Jan. 12 Sat.

This morning I got up and went downstairs to get dressed. After I had made my bed Beatrice came over and we went together down to fourth Ave. It was very rainy & we followed Freddy all the way down. After we got home we read till it was time to have dinner. After dinner over we read until we went down to the library. We came home and Beatrice went home and I went home and played cards till supper time After supper was over I wrote my diary and read till I went to bed.

[insert photo of pencil sketches of three small puzzles or riddles]

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Jan 13, 1907 Sunday p> This morning I got up and went down stairs and ate my breakfast. After breakfast was over I got ready for Sunday School. After I was home I read till dinnertime. When dinner was over I read a little while. Then I went out for a walk with cousin Aneta and Cousin Florence and the two boys. Then Honey and I came home. On the way home Honey screamed Rubber at a lady. Ha. Ha. I came home and read till suppertime. After supper I came up and wrote my diary. Then I read till I went to bed.

[insert photo of ink drawing of open book]

Two small entries for Grandma's diary. I had meant to put one up each day, but yesterday got away from me.

Oh dear, Dorothy forgot her gloves! John was her younger brother, aged 9, and I wonder what he thought about having to deliver those gloves. Was she allowed to participate or did she have to sit on the sidelines till they arrived and she could dance properly. A lady didn't dance without her gloves!

Jan. 10, 1907 Thursday

This morning I got up and ate my breakfast and went to school. When school was over I came home and got ready for dancing school. After I had been there for about fifteen minutes, John brought my gloves. When it was over I went home and read till suppertime. After supper was over I practiced. Then I came up. I wrote my diary. Then I read till I went to bed.

Dorothy and Beatrice and Margaret, a trio of girls on their (or there, of you prefer Dorothy's spelling) bicycles, riding through the streets of Mt. Vernon, NY. January must have been chilly, but these girls went to the library and to livines. They had pocket money for candy and ice cream and weren't afraid to spend it. I wonder if they had appetites at supper or whether all that cycling burned up the sugar.

And why was she sleeping on the third floor? Had company come to visit, so that she ceded her room to others and moved upstairs? Dorothy, I wish you'd given us a bit more detail!

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Jan. 11, 1907 Friday

This morning I got up and ate my breakfast and practiced till it was time to go to school. After school was over I came home and asked Charlie to take my bicycle out & Beatrice and Margaret got there wheels and we rode our wheels down to the library. After we came back we went to livines and bought some candy, and got a sunday. Then we rode a little while longer and saw Freddy. After we went home I read till suppertime. Then I read again till I wrote my diary. Then I read till I went to bed. I had to sleep in the third floor.

Simple Day for Dorothy

Not much going on in Grandma's diary today. I wish I knew what she's practicing, piano probably. There was always a baby grand in their big living room on Ash Street, and my Mother had lessons and played beautifully. I have still some of her lesson books. I wish I knew who her friends were, Beatrice, Margaret, Emery. Were they all 11, were they in the same class? I wish I knew more, and had thought to ask more when I could.

I love the imagery of the two little girls on their bicycles, being blown right along by the wind, and later watching the cars go. All sorts of motion, active and passive.

Jan. 9, 1907 Wednesday

I got up early in the morning and did my practicing. I ate my breakfast and went to school. After school was over Beatrice & I rode down to forth Ave. It was very windy and the wind blew us right along. When we got home, Margaret was there. We went down to the library and read a while. When we

Page 9

got home we had supper. We came upstairs and papa brought out some cars for the boys. Emery came over & we watched the cars go. Then I went to bed.

Papa

First I must thank my Canadian friend Dale Lee for telling me about Clock, a complicated solitaire game with a small chance of success. International friendships are wonderful!

I made a mistake on the first day, mistyping the date, so that I thought I was beginning on the sixth with Grandma's entry for that day, but really it was her entry for the seventh, so I've been a day ahead. Today I will skip posting her entry and tomorrow I will be back on track.

Instead, today I posted a photo of her father, Elmer Grant Willyoung, known in the diary as Papa. I didn't know a lot about him, except that he was smart, had a business in NYC, and died early in an auto accident. His death put an end to my Grandma's education at Wellesley, where she was a member of the class of 1920. Family legend has it that there wasn't money sufficient for her tuition, and so she left school.

I found a piece of a photo, a casual group shot from the University of Michigan class of 1888, torn from a larger print. Ernest, wearing a bowler hat, full mustache and stern expression, is centered in the fragment. I called the UofM Alumni Association to see what I could learn about his degree, and was told that, although they didn't keep records that far back, I might find help at the Bentley Historical Library. A voice message later, my call was returned and I was told that Elmer Grant Willyoung received a BS in 1888 from the College of Literature, Science and Art. At that time there were four fields of study, and if I sent a written request I might get further information. When I asked if it needed to be a hard copy request, she said, "Oh no, just send me an email," which I promptly did. I should know more within the week.

The internet is a wonderful repository! I have found so many links to his name, learned so much about his life and business. By the time Dorothy began this diary, her father had sold a successful business in Philadelphia, moved his family to New York, opened another business, secured at least five patents, presented scientific papers that are now included in The Tesla Collection, and fathered five children. At some point he went to law school and became a counselor and patent attorney.

Years ago I was in communication with my second cousin John, who is the grandson of John C Willyoung, Dorothy's younger brother, number four in the lineup. I called him and was pleased when he returned my call. He's got all sorts of information about Papa, but was on his way to a meeting, so we couldn't talk long.

It must have been a nice, quiet life at 5 N. Fulton Ave, orderly, with meals at set times, music lessons, dancing class, Sunday School, rides with friends on bicycles, trips to the library.

Dorothy plays Clock

Today's diary entry is short but still contains a small mystery. What was the game Clock? An indoor game, probably a calm one, if played after supper and before bedtime. Googling presents no information, alas. Must research this further.

I wish Grandma Dot had included more information. What did she eat each day? How far was school from her house? I love that she came home to eat each day, no brown-bagging for her! They ate the breakfast-dinner-supper pattern, not today's breakfast-lunch-dinner, and I can imagine that she sat at a table with her siblings for this midday meal. There has been no mention of Mildred, who was newly 16 when this diary began and in high school. Papa, Ernest Grant Willyoung, Sr, was a teacher or professor, I believe, teaching Engineering. He was a member of the graduating class of 1888 from the University of Michigan.

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Jan. 8, 1907 Tuesday

I got up early this morning & did most of my practicing. After breakfast I finished my practicing. When I was through I went to school. Came home & ate my dinner. Went to school again & when I came home it was raining. Beatrice came down and read till five o’clock. Beatrice went home. I read till papa came home. Then we had supper. I came up to write my diary, then played clock and read a while. Then I went to bed.

A New Blog for an old Diary

It's now 2015 and I'm going to revive this blog which has lain dormant for so long, using it to post my grandmother's 1907 diary, with photos and recollections of her.

I've had this small red book for years, kept it safely tucked into the top shelf, but age and desert dryness are crumbing the edges, so I want to transcribe the contents before they disappear. What's interesting about this little book is that it's also my mother's diary from 1937. My grandma was 11 when she wrote her entries, Mom was 12.

There are mysteries here, beginning with the title page, where my grandma writes her name as Dorothy M. Willyoung, very clearly. But we always knew her middle name to be Carpenter, after her mother's mother, Ella Louisa Carpenter, who was born about 1833. Ella married Charles Morris, and their third child was Eliza Victoria Morris, b 17 Dec, 1861, in New Jersey. Eliza was my grandmother's mother, so perhaps she adopted the M for Morris, to honor her mother.

I have a napkin from my grandma's trousseau, with the initials DCW embroidered in a corner. It is wearing thin at the folds, but I use it occasionally. When I was photographing my breakfasts for Irene, I used it in June, 2009, but the fork partially covers the initials.

So, there's that mystery. Another is the house at that address. I know that four of the five children were born in PA, and the youngest, Elmer Grant Willyoung, Jr, called Grantie, to distinguish him from his father, was born in 1901 in NY. So the family must have moved from PA to NY sometime between 1898 and 1901. My grandma have lived in the Mt Vernon house for some years before she began her diary.

I have several photos of the family. For this first post I've chosen a family grouping from a house I haven't identified yet. Three children and their parents, on a front porch, my grandma, the youngest, on her father's lap. I don't think this is their house in Mt. Vernon, however.

I Googled the address, 5 N. Fulton, Mt Vernon, and found a photo of two houses, each three story, but the porches and door alignments don't match. Checking on Zillow, I found that the house had sold in 2004, with a link to the realtor. I called him and had a wonderful conversation. I did tell him first that I was not a potential client, but that I was looking for information about a house on Fulton Ave. He was very helpful, told me that the house is now a three-family residence, and that the front porch had been enclosed, but the front doors were in the center of the front, not to one side as in the family photo. He offered to email me the listing photo and more info. Alas, this house was built in 1935, so the old Willyoung house must have been destroyed. Another mystery.

So, that's the beginning. I hope to transcribe all the entries, both of my grandmother and of my mother, and post them. Grandma Dot kept her diary through April, then set it aside. Mom began her entries in October. Grandma Dot's are in ink, blotted at times; Mom's are in pencil. Each girl added occasional drawings, which I will photograph.

Several of the opening pages have been cut out, so the diary begins on Page 7.

Page 7
Jan. 6, 1906, Mon.
Today I woke up and began to read. I finished a book. I was late for breakfast. After breakfast I went to school. It was very warm. In the afternoon after I had come home from school, we went down to the sawmill and stayed about fifteen minutes. Then papa called me up. Margaret, Beatrice and I took a ride and rode all the afternoon. When I came home I took my music lesson. Ate my supper and read a while. Then went to bed.

Still waiting...

After weeks of waiting, what I have is two appointments, one in July for a heart monitor, and one in September for a carotid imaging test, a Doppler, I think. The July appointment was made the day after my visit with the neurologist, but the second one, to see how badly my right carotid is blocked, wasn't made till weeks afterward, because Kaiser changed policy in the midst of the process. As it was explained to me, the doc coded the test for vascular imaging, which used to go through special services. That was changed, so that now such requests are to go through radiology. Could the appointment people figure this out? No. Instead, they kicked the whole thing back to the doc, for her to start anew, scheduling through radiology instead. Weeks wasted, appointments filling up, so that now I won't be tested till after Labor Day. Kaiser used to have ads about Thriving with Kaiser, but I don't think they use them any more. No wonder. Sigh.

Grey matter morning.

Such a different morning from yesterday. Grey outside, our May grey, which will burn off by midmorning. Fear has dissipated as will the overcast, just a bit lingering, and today I am just tired. Although we were on time for my appointment, the doctor wasn't. She takes time with her patients, far beyond that scheduled, so that, as the day progresses, she gets further and further behind. When I finally talked to her, after two hours, she took time to ask lots of questions, most of which we could answer. She looked at the MRI and MRA and told us the opposite of what DR T had said. The MRA looks good, nice blood flow through the brain, some question about the carotids, but the MRI shows white spots. Most are old, could be TIAs, could be from migraines, definitely multiple microvascular injuries. She wants more tests, so I will be off to Anaheim in July, because that's the first opening in that clinic, to monitor heart rate. I will be called for another appointment for new imaging with the vascular group. Referral to an opthamologist. I had blood tests again. She thinks the problem is with my eye, not in my brain. This is the opposite of Dr S's diagnosis. Two good doctors, at odds with each other. Weighing the choices, do I prefer to have a good brain and a bad eye? I think so, and I'm quietly satisfied that I can think about it at all.

Waiting

Fear of the unknown is universal. No matter how we try to calm ourselves, there is always lurking, at the back of our minds, dread that something we don't expect is waiting for us. Today we finally meet the neurologist to learn what the MRA really showed, what it was that caused Dr T to call, after sending us home, to say he'd referred me to Neurology. Because there was such a lack of haste in setting the appointment, I am assuming that there's nothing really wrong, that the chronic ischemic changes are just typical for my age and probably the result of migraines and not TIAs. That is what I want to hear. The MRI eliminated the big four causes, the huge monsters of tumor, stroke, aneurysm, MS, so that what is left is only tiny monsters, white blobs on photos of slices of my brain. What I really expect is to be sent off for more testing, with few answers today, just more questions. Nevertheless, my heart is racing a bit as I wait for this day to begin.

Written three weeks ago and left in DRAFT... Waiting is always difficult, and this morning is no exception. I am waiting for a phone call that has not come. Instead I've had a robocall from the library that I have materials on hold, and a yet another call from some home improvement company that insists that we spoke last January. I do not have time or energy to waste on these calls. A few days ago I went with friends to see Emperor, a fascinating story, based on fact, about MacArthur's treatment of the Japanese emperor in the war-criminal trials that followed Japan's capitulation. As we left the theater I noticed that my left eye was not behaving properly. I was not driving, and as the trip progressed, my vision regressed, so that by the time I was home, my left-eye vision was, left of center, only a grey blur. Within an hour it returned, leaving only a mild headache and a feeling of slight nausea. Yesterday, as I was having toast and coffee, Ray still asleep, this recurred. There were no changes in light values, just the disappearance of letters on my Kindle. I lay down for a bit and my sight returned, but the nausea and headache remained. I sent an email to Dr Pak reporting this, asking if this could be an ocular migraine. An hour or so later Dr Pak's PA called and said that I should go to Urgi-Care immediately. I clocked in at 2:09 PM, able to see clearly, but with nausea, headache and a bit of vertigo. For nearly two hours we waited, until finally Dr Seifert came in. She said that she didn't think there was anything wrong with my eyes, but more likely something in my brain. She then mentioned several things that could cause these symptoms: aneurysm, tumor, MS, atherosclerosis, and, my personal favorite, migraine. She ordered an MRI and an MRA, but there was a four-hour wait till the next opening. She said she'd keep us on the board, but we could go home for dinner and then return.

October through December

I began this in October, but it was a busy month for us...

One week from tonight we'll be in Sarasota, hosting a rehearsal dinner on the eve of our son's wedding. There's a lot to be done in this next week, and I hope I have some time to pause and think about this latest change in our lives. We will no longer have a single child. instead we'll have two married sons and two lovely daughters-in-law.

And that's as far as I got, because that last week was filled with the many small tasks that are necessary for a smooth and stressless party. We went off to Florida on the 25th, flying with our son and his daughter to Ft Lauderdale, then driving 170 miles to Punta Gorda. We spent two hours at LAX watching Virgin America mechanics climb in and out of a hatch under the nose, fixing whatever it was that prevented our departure. She enjoyed the activity and watched intently as trucks came and went. The President was in LA that day, and the airport shut down as Air Force One left. Eventually our plane was fixed and we flew away.

Florida was nicely humid and warm, but the pools were cold. Thursday we left PG and went to Sarasota for four days of wedding festivities with family, friends and strangers.

And again I stopped, so now it is the middle of January in a new year. The kids are wedded, honeymooned, and home again, settled down to normal life. The holidays were celebrated appropriately, and I am now covered by Medicare.

Monday Chris's book about Haiti came out in the Kindle Store, and there was a flurry as the news was posted and reposted on Facebook. It was all very exciting. Tomorrow the hardcopy version will be available.

We had four days with no heat, until today, when the repairman came to do install a new circuit board. We have heat again. It was so cold in the house, below 60, that I didn't mind going to the lab for blood work this morning.

September

We are galloping through September! Book Club, which meets on the third Monday of the month, will be tomorrow night. We're discussing Major Pettigrew's Last Stand, by Helen Simonson. ( I'd have underlined that title if I knew how to do it in Chrome, but I can't find that option. ) It's her first novel and is very clever, readable and enjoyable.

This morning I blocked a shawlette I've knit for our bride-to-be. This is the second go at the pattern. The first was knit with Legacy Lace, a merino/nylon blend from a farm in Nebraska. It worked up well, but the color wasn't so white as I wanted. When I saw some nice Italian merino in Wildfiber, I bought that and started over. A lot of work for something that may or may not be worn, depending on the weather that evening, but she'll have it if she needs it. I think I'll keep the first one for myself, but I might give it to her too, to take on their honeymoon.

Wedding-wise, I have three dresses, two of which will be returned shortly, no shoes, and no underpinnings. Each dress requires a different style of bra, so this week I must decide which dress to keep, which to return, and then go find the proper support. Shoes are on the calendar for next week.

Last week I worked up the menu for the rehearsal dinner, and sent it off to the restaurant to be sure those choices were still available. It was returned with "corrections, " which made me laugh. Their menu is strewn indiscriminately with upper-case letters, and my descriptions had none. These had been carefully replaced, so that we could offer "...Half Chicken, Roasted in an Oak Oven..." We'll be using my version.

August

Sometimes I start posts and forget that they are still in Draft...

So now we are approaching the end of August, summer is nearly over and a new school year awaits. Although it has been ages since I spent these upcoming weeks getting a student outfitted, I still respond to the academic calendar. The old year is winding down now, tired and hot and ready for a long rest. The new year begins when the classroom doors open and children head out bravely into new adventures.

I spent the summer doing various things, but every Monday I had Knit Club. Twenty girls signed up, and there were five when we ended. Several of the original group were there just for that first week, but I hadn't told them they couldn't come and try, and now I have several kits with only a few rows on the needles, some without even the requisite 16 stitches cast on. Those I'll take apart, peel the name tags from the bags, roll the yarn again into the balls, ready for the next girls who want to learn this skill.

Our county Fair stretched into August this year, four weeks of fun and strangeness, bad food I no longer eat, interesting artisans displaying their skills. One day I had a chance to knit with a group working on the World's Largest Sock. The project has been moving around the world since 2006, when it was begun in Great Britain. I got a sticker for my participation.

Happy Independence Day

Last night I forgot to bring in our flag, and this is what I found this morning.

The police report calls it attempted arson. It was probably a crime of opportunity, some stupid kids walking by with matches or lighters. The flag was out, not visible from the house. I wonder if they were surprised to see how fast it burned. Did they linger to see the black, melted drops fall to the concrete? Did they even consider what might have happened had the flames reached the overhang? Probably not. Probably stupid kids, neighbor kids, perhaps, because who else is roaming this street at night?

This flag was given to my boys by their late grandfather, who came to this country to escape brutal tyranny in Europe. It was lovely, sewn stripes and embroidered stars, and we'd had it for nearly 30 years. I don't know if we can find one like it, but we've already hung a cheaper, printed cotton flag in its place.

Flag burning is a form of protest, but the protester usually brings his own flag. He would have no right to burn my flag. I don't imagine that the burner of this flag thought that deeply, no idea of protest, if he had any idea at all. It was stupid thoughtless destruction. Stupid.

I have started scraping the mess from the driveway. A grapefruit knife seems to work best. It will be a long and boring job, but I don't want reminders of last night. I wonder if the culprit will pass by and giggle to himself or if he'll even see a connection to his actions. Stupid, just stupid.

Race Day

There were tutus, bunny ears and tails, Batman's capes, glitter and sparkly skirts, crazy multi-colored wigs, and that was just the racers. Most of them wore shoes, and some of the shoes had toes. Today was a sunny day as the OC Marathon ran past our house, and I was out there to cheer them all on, from first to last. The race began at 6 AM, and the leader completed in 2:22:45, shaving nearly four minutes off last year's time. I was out with my latte and a bowl of strawberries to see him glide through just after 8:10. The first woman came by 37 minutes or so later. The final walker, tailed by a motorcycle cop, came through at 1:25 this afternoon. I clapped for them all.


I love watching this race and have done so for the past few years. The early runners are focused, the last are walking, mostly smiling still, glad to be between miles 24 and 25, nearly there. There was a water station up the road a bit, and this year they had music, a brilliant addition. The songs cycled through Chariots of Fire, Eye of the Tiger, Rocky's Theme, Born to Run. The runners could hear the music as they approached our house, and it was nice to see their faces brighten at the sound.

Family members and supporters swoop in to run the last miles with their athletes, kids on bikes trail racing parents, neighbors walk down the sidewalk to chat, cops and cadets keep half the street clear. Nearly everyone remembers not to turn into the race lane.


This year I remembered to put on sun block. Next year I will remember to take my rings off before I start clapping.

Happy New Year!

It has been a bit of time since I've written here, but life has been busy, life has been good. Our baby girl celebrated her first birthday, mostly by tearing paper and trying to eat it, but she is growing well and thriving, as are we all.

The holidays were lovely, gone too quickly, but so enjoyable. The boys came home, and having them here was the best present, because I know it is difficult for them. It was nice to have them all here, being silly and watching the baby and eating, eating, eating.

I am slowly putting decorations away, the lights are off the house, but I won't take the tree down till Epiphany. Need to have some lights to greet the Kings!

Sieves and blueberries and warm, soapy water

Although I don't post photos of my breakfast any longer, I still eat it every day. Doing the photos really created a habit, so now I start the day with my poached egg whites and fruit. I've stopped the orange juice, but still have my huge latte. Life is good.

Our markets are full of ripe, beautiful blueberries from Chile. For years I boycotted Chilean products because of the country's miserable human rights policies and Las Madres de Plaza de Mayo, las madres de los desaparecidos. Photos of those women made me weep. But I believe that the present goverments in Chile and Argentina are better than the old, and it's good policy to support South American farmers who aren't growing drugs, so I now buy blueberries from Chile.

This morning I rinsed the blueberries as usual, using an old aluminum sieve that came from my parents' house, rinsed them in running cold water to get them clean, shook the sieve to remove any excess water, and dumped the berries into two blue and white bowls. If I were still taking photos, today's would have been a pretty one.

I dumped the sieve into a sink of warm, soapy water, and wondered why I had done so. If rinsing the berries in cold water was sufficient for something that I was going to ingest, why did I feel the need to wash the sieve with soap? Wasn't water good enough? Wasn't it already clean?

I do this with measuring cups too, glass cups that measure water go into the dishwasher, and I don't know why. As water supplies dwindle, perhaps I need to start examining what I wash that really doesn't need washing.

The blueberries were lovely, crisp and sweet.

Blogging

When I was doing a post every day there was a rhythm I followed. I'd make breakfast, snap the photo, eat the breakfst, post the photo (well, almost always, a few times I forgot to post till very late in the day). Although I no longer post those photos, I still think of things to blog about, but I don't seem to write them down. I have composed brilliant opening lines in my mind, but never typed them out. I think of topics that really deserve discussion, but don't elaborate at the keyboard. Somehow the thoughts flow through my brain but not down to my fingertips.

During the Olympics I meant to talk about the commentator's overuse of the word redemption, but I never wrote about how annoyed I was at the constant use and misuse of the word. I also meant to write about the lovely, touching film about Gander on 9-11 and how that small town opened its arms and hearts to thousands of travelers. And I wanted to mention how much I enjoyed the funny story about the Air Canada flight that was delayed because the travelers, watching the closing moments of the hockey game, ignored the calls to board.

I think about this blog a lot, I just don't blog what I think.