Don't Think I'll Tell Her

The Doctor examined me tonite and told me Joyce was on her way. Goodness - half the time is over already. What would mother say - don’t think I’ll tell her - she would only worry anyway. Elsie made peppermint ice cream tonight. No word yet from our Daddy - I’m getting so worried. What could have happened to him? - Annette, March 1942

As I get ready for a big doctor’s appointment myself, I found this entry from Annette. Here we are in early March, and I am halfway through my pregnancy as well! As a side note, I love reading the different names she used for her baby. It started off as Joyce, and eventually became Carol - and she ended up with a Tom!

Annette was on her own, with Clary on a trip to Chunking and Wahnsien for fabric and other supplies. With her amped-up hormones, you can tell how worried she was about his trip. As if that uncertainty wasn’t bad enough, she was also hesitant to tell her family back home that she was pregnant again. Sometimes, she felt embarrassed that she was pregnant again so soon after her first child. Sometimes, she didn’t want to worry anyone. I can relate to her concerns, but for a different reason.

I waited a long time before telling people I was pregnant - not so much because they might worry, but because I was worried about losing work. In the freelance world, I don’t have any guaranteed contracts or agreements from year to year, so I have to rebuild everything each season. That kind of uncertainty is magnified by pregnancy, because I have no idea how my employers will react to the news. Will they be supportive? Flexible? Disappointed? Or will they replace me so they don’t have to deal with it?

Luckily, several employers have been very supportive during my pregnancy. Others, I’m still not sure how it will turn out, honestly. It is unfortunate that in 2019, women still have to worry about employment when they get pregnant. My personal choices should not affect other people’s perceptions of my ability to do my job. All I can do is let people know when it comes up, and hope for the best.

On Her Way

I got sick at noon and lost my lunch so I guess Joyce is really on her way. I would have to be different than all other women. I didn’t want another baby so soon, but I guess there is nothing to do about it now. - Annette, December 1941

We’re back! Thanks so much for your patience during the down time! The holidays were a bit hectic for me, as I’m sure they were for a lot of people. While I appreciated the time off from the blog, the women's stories were always on my mind. Particularly, Annette’s story.

This entry from her is so honest. Her entry from just a few days prior says “Today U.S. declared war on Japan.” She is quite literally in the middle of a war zone, trying her best to care for the doctors, nurses, workers, and babies in the orphanage. Her toddler is not gaining weight, and has whooping cough. In the midst of all that, she finds out she is pregnant again. Imagine how scary that all must seem. What kind of world will that baby grow up in? Will it even survive? She started off calling the baby Joyce, and later Carol, but eventually the baby would be called Tom - my dad. She was just about two months pregnant when she wrote this entry.

Throughout this project, I have tried my best to relate to Frances’ and Annette’s stories. There are so many common themes that show up in all three of our journal entries from our twenties, except for one. Motherhood. Both Frances and Annette were mothers in their twenties, while I was building my career. I draw from my experiences as a teacher, aunt, and friend of little kids, but I could never truly say that I understood their feelings. Until now!

One of the reasons I took some time off over the holidays was because…I found out I am pregnant! My husband and I are so excited, and we have launched ourselves fully into baby planning, shopping, etc. Once the shock wore off a bit, I had a bit of a revelation. My baby is due just a few days after my dad’s birthday. Essentially, I am in the same stage of pregnancy in 2018-19 as Annette was in 1941-42. How cool is that?!

As I get back on track with blog posts, I’ll keep alternating between stories from Annette, Frances, and younger Miranda, but as you can imagine, I’ll probably see the stories through a different lens. I can’t wait to see how everything - and I do mean, everything - develops!

Screw The Future

So here we are in this ridiculous republican world. How sad. He’s going to run this country into the ground. This administration is only concerned with the wealthy right now. No thoughts or plans for future generations. “We’ll do whatever we want - screw the future.”

My new money plan is to set aside $100 each month. I did last month and this month (actually $190 this month). I feel like I’m finally getting a handle on my finances now. It’s time for me to be on my own. - Miranda, November 2004

It is hard to believe that I have gone a month without posting. When I started this project, my goal was one post each week. I am very goal-oriented, and that seemed to keep me on track. Lately, I just haven’t had the heart to post. The school year is in full swing now, and I’ve had a lot on my plate. Well, truthfully, I may have been adding things to my plate so I didn’t have to log in and look at the date of my last post. There is so much going on in the world right now, and instead of yearning to write, I’ve been avoiding it. When I sat down to write, this post from 14 years ago just leapt off the page. All I can say is….

…..at least I’m consistent?! I am still frustrated with the politics of this country. I vote in every election. I call and write my elected officials. And I still feel hopeless sometimes. Change happens so slowly sometimes, and I do not have the best patience. So, what do I do when things are out of my control? I turn to financial planning!

For some people, budgets are stress-inducing monsters that suck all the joy out of life. For me, they are just the opposite. Give me a spreadsheet and a few accounts to manage and I’ll be perfectly content. I might not always be happy about the balances that I’m seeing, but just understanding the math makes me calm. Numbers aren’t personal. You just work with what you have. Making the most of those numbers is like a game. With enough strategy, you can make the numbers change. I can control my choices and see the results.

That isn’t the case with politics, or people in general. Sometimes, it all feels so very personal. I wish I could see other people’s points of view with the same understanding as the numbers in my spreadsheet. If only my choices yielded visible, immediate results, like paying down debt or watching compounding interest grow. It wouldn’t stop me from having strong opinions, but it might help me stay a bit more calm. Maybe I just need a reminder that when things feel hopeless, there is always something to do. It might not fix the problem, but it just might bring a little peace. Here’s hoping we all find our peace in overwhelming times.

Bigger Things To Do - and Curried Lentils

I am so frustrated with this orchestra.  No one cares that it sounds bad.  It's so discouraging.  But what's worse is that it could be so good.  But no one cares and no one wants to fix it.  So now my goal is to transcend the Augusta experience.  To kind of pretend I'm not really here.  I'll practice a lot and I'll be that really good clarinetist in the ensemble.  That's my goal.  To get out of here.  To move on.  I can't let this ensemble get to me, or I'll start lowering my own standards of my playing.  I have bigger things to do with my life.  On a positive note, I have $487 in my checking, and a $390 visa bill.  So that's $97 surplus.  Not much, but a surplus nonetheless.  No more spending, except a trip to Publix - I have 2 recipes I'm going to make so I'll have some real food.  - Miranda, October 2004

 

If you ever want to wear yourself out, just pick up your diary or journal from 14 years ago.  I promise, in no time, you will be thoroughly sick of yourself.  Actually, it's not really that bad.  Sometimes you come across an entry like that sums up a whole lot of feelings, like this one.  As I read it, I think back to Annette's and Frances' entries.  Even though they weren't working jobs like mine, they always expressed their inner emotions.  Both women were observing their current situation, but always looking to the future.  Sometimes with worry or fear.  Sometimes with hope or anticipation.  Sometimes they just sketched out their paychecks and did the math to see if they would make it though the month.  Looking back on this entry, I can relate to all of that.

I was so lonely in Augusta.  There I was, a 'real' clarinetist, playing in a professional orchestra and making it on my own.  But it was really hard to make friends - mostly because the members of the orchestra came in from other cities.  I was one of the few that lived in Augusta full time.  I came from college life in my hometown, where I had friends and football games and local dive bars.  I had a hard time adjusting to being by myself so much.

Also, I had a hard time adjusting to the level of playing in the group.  I had only known musicians from Eastman and Florida State.  I remember during an orientation meeting at Eastman, the Dean of the school said "For most of you, the ensembles you play with here will be the best ensembles you will ever play with."  I never really appreciated that comment until my tenure with the Augusta Symphony.  Playing with professional musicians was different.  There was a different level of intensity.  People had families, other jobs, personal lives.  I was used to school life - practicing all the time, listening to recordings and attending concerts, having deep discussions about which orchestra we dreamed of playing with (and a good bit of drinking). 

This journal entry was my turning point.  I wanted to set my sights higher than my current position, so I created not just playing goals - "transcend the experience" - but also financial goals.  Working with money can sometimes be stressful for me, but usually, I find it very calming.  If I wanted to get out, I would need money, which meant a financial plan.  I am great at making plans!  I started saving $100 each month, so when I left Augusta and moved to Atlanta, I had $1000 to get started.  No job, no gigs - just an apartment I had never seen in person, and $1000.

Of course, to celebrate my new plan, I wanted to cook!  The journal entry doesn't mention the exact recipe, but I remember what it was.  Curried Lentils.  I didn't do much cooking in Augusta, so when I found something that worked, I made it ALL THE TIME.  This recipe included a tomato-yogurt sauce, but I never actually made it.  Just lentils and rice.  I haven't made these curried lentils since 2005 or so.  I think it's time to try them out again!

 

Curried Lentils with Vegetables

3 cups vegetable stock

1/12 cups lentils, rinsed and drained

1 cup chopped carrot

1 cup chopped onion

2/3 cup chopped celery

4 teaspoons curry powder

2 teaspoons grated fresh ginger

1 clove garlic, minced

1/2 teaspoon salt

 

In a large saucepan combine water, lentils, carrot, onion, celery, curry powder, ginger garlic, and salt.  Bring to boiling; reduce heat.  Simmer, covered, for 30 to 35 minutes or until lentils are tender and most liquid is absorbed.  Remove from heat.  Let stand, covered, for 5 minutes.

 

I had forgotten how easy this meal really is.  It all goes in one pot and can easily be vegetarian or meaty.  Check out the pictures below!  Enjoy!

 

Another Birth-day

Well here again I have arrived at another birth-day.  They come around only too fast.  Why I'll soon be an old woman.  I used to think when any one was thirty he or she was real old, but although I feel a little down, I feel no older than I ever did.  - Frances, February 1892

 

As I look back at my calendar, I realize that it has been quite a while since my last post.  My goal is one post per week, but the past few weeks have gotten the best of me.  I kept meaning to schedule a few posts, but for some reason, I couldn't make the time.  To those who read this blog regularly, thank you, and I'm sorry I've been such a slacker!  After teaching at a wonderful music camp for middle- and high-school students, I then took a week off to celebrate my birthday in Washington, DC. 

I love birthdays.  I love having an excuse to celebrate my birthday for a whole week, filling the days with activities, food, travel, friends/family, and of course, cake!  This year was no exception.  I had some amazing meals in our nation's capital (Rasika and Le Diplomat come to mind).  I went to a folk festival and danced with the President of Catalonia.  I visited museums and monuments, and even snagged a last-minute ticket to the National Museum of African American History, where I could have spent an entire week. 

Something about this birthday, though, has me dragging my feet, so Frances' birthday post from 1892 really resonated with me - even though I am a good bit over thirty!  Maybe I am letting 'the number' get the best of me, but this year, I feel myself getting bogged down by all the things I want to do but haven't yet done.  I like to think of my birthday as a 6month check-point for my New Years resolutions, and this year, I'm feeling a bit lacking.

This month also marks the 1-year birthday of the Three Journals blog.  I've had the Three Journals idea in my head for so long that it seems impossible that I've been sending out bits and pieces for a whole year now.  Even though my goal was just to start the blog (which I have obviously done), I had still hoped to have accomplished more with this project.  

Birthdays are a reflective time for a lot of people, I think.  Even though I am feeling 'a little down,' as Frances said, it is only fair to remind myself of all the big things I did this year - graduated 5 clarinet students, visited a new country, planned an awesome wedding, married the love of my life.  Not too shabby!

Like many people out there, the "not good/successful/kind enough" voice in my head tends to be louder than the "hey, you're making it work" voice.  This year, I'm going to try to turn up the volume on that one.  As the years go on, I'd rather celebrate my number than not have a number at all!

As Far As I Can Go

No need wasting energy thinking about this place.  Only a few more weeks to go, and then I'm done with this Symphony.  I'm off to bigger & better things.  Off to new adventures.  It's so interesting how people take different paths.  Sometimes certain roads are blocked off, but then you just choose a new one.  That's where I am.  I've gone as far as I can go here.  Time to move on.  - Miranda, April 2005

 

Choosing my own diary entries is always challenging for me.  I would guess that not many people wake up and decide they want to re-read their own diaries from their 20s.  For me, those pages are filled with all kinds of feelings.  Insecurity about my body and my career.  Confidence about living on my own.  Reflection on my current situation and longing for something bigger and better.  This post was part of my 'swan song' collection of writing.  I was ready to move on from my orchestra job, but still had no idea what I was going to do.  All I knew is that I was leaving.  I had gone as far as I could go.

The other challenge in working with my own diary is more logistical.  I spent a great deal of time transcribing Frances' and Annette's diaries, but I could never bring myself to start on my own.  That means that every time I write from my own diaries, I have to pull out a stack of 14 diaries and dig through my innermost thoughts between 2004-2012.  It is emotionally exhausting, to say the least.

Well, I've gone as far as I can go with that method.  This summer, in between blog posts, I'll be digitizing all of my diary entries.  I'll have a box of tissues ready for the sad parts, and maybe a glass of wine or two to stave off the embarrassment.  Wish me luck!

I Can Barely Take Care Of Myself

I am selfish.  I'm worried about having to take care of Daddy, and then Mama if she gets sick.  I can barely take care of myself.  If something happened to me, if I couldn't play, if I got hurt - I'd be lost.  I'd have to find something else.  But I can't support my parents.  I can't even support myself.  - Miranda, February 2007

 

At 25 years old, Annette and Frances were worrying about their children.  I was worrying about my parents.  

Daddy was somewhere in the middle of his radiation treatments when I wrote this entry.  His first round of tumors responded well to chemo, but when the brain tumors showed up, he had to do a round of targeted radiation, which required him to stay for a month in Tampa.  He was staying at a 'Skilled Nursing Facility' that was just awful.  The brain tumors made it difficult for him to walk, and since the 'Facility' didn't have bathrooms in each room, he had to walk down the hall to get to the bathroom.  Well, that didn't go very well.  The staff made him wear diapers, in case he couldn't make it in time.  That happened during one of my visits.  I think that was the first time I ever changed a diaper.  And it was my dad's.

Being a caretaker is such a huge job.  Daddy had so many people helping him, but it always felt like the big tasks fell to his children.  At 25 years old, while my friends were planning weddings and tracking their ovulation, I was helping my dad use a portable urinal.  I couldn't even think about children.  It's like my brain just couldn't process the thought.  The only references I found in my journals were more along the lines of "If I never find someone and have kids, who is going to take care of me?!"

It seems like people always have opinions about a woman's reproductive status.  No one ever really knows what people go through, or what struggles they endure.  No one knows their past experiences.  No one knows their current situation.  We are all just doing the best we can - making the best choices we can at the time.  And hoping it all works out.   

Christmas Day I Was Mad And Worried

Christmas day I was mad and worried all day.  We felt so poor could not give each other the least presents.  - Frances, December 1891

 

As the school year and work projects wind down, I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.  Now, on my first full day off, I planned to finish shopping for presents, start prepping for holiday parties, and cook/bake up a storm.  As with years past, I seem to have forgotten that other people had the same idea!  Roads are clogged, parking lots are a nightmare, and all the store-brand egg nog supplies are long gone.  

Frances had a lot on her mind when she wrote this brief entry.  They were considering moving to a new town, and unsure of their finances.  Even in the late 1800s, Christmas came with big expectations.  Sometimes, we can't afford gifts.  Sometimes, we are weighing a major life decision.  Sometimes, we are just anxious about the future.  

During this hectic time of year, I hope you can take a moment to breathe.  Remember what is important to you - be it family, travel, solitude, faith, or anything else.  It's not about the presents.  It's about being true to yourself.

Trying Not To Think About It

My last night in Augusta.  It's a weird feeling.  I'm ready to leave here.  What a great experience to have, and so early in my career.  I'm so worried about money.  I'm trying not to think about it, but I'm deep-down paralyzed with fear that I won't have enough money.  It's terrifying.  Goodbye, Augusta.  - Miranda, June 2005

 

Just as I started my second year of grad school, I won a 'full-time' job as Principal Clarinetist with the Augusta Symphony.  I didn't hesitate - I leapt into the unknown!  Over the span of a week, I quit school, found an apartment, packed up my life, and moved to Augusta, GA.  It was a one year position with no guarantee of extension, but still I was excited!  Supporting myself as a professional clarinetist at the age of 23!  

The job, as it turns out, was not so exciting.  After the year was up, I was ready to move on.  I had saved up $1000 and decided to move to Atlanta to try freelancing.  Another leap - but this time, even more unknown.  No job.  No leads.  I knew a few people from my time in Augusta, but they were just contacts - nothing solid.  As someone who likes a plan, this lack of plan was 'deep-down' terrifying.  But also, deep down, I knew this was the next step.  I believed I would make it work.

When I was little, my mom used to sing me songs from The King and I.  Here I am - 30 years later - playing the same show.  When Anna and her son arrive in Siam, the little boy asks what his mother does when she is afraid.  She says she whistles a happy tune (cue my mother singing to me as we dance around the den).  It's usually the scary moments that teach us the most.  At the time, they can be deep-down terrifying.  But we stand up tall and keep going.  Leaping into the unknown with nothing to hold on to....except maybe a little whistle.

He Is So Feeble

Well here again have I arrived at another birth-day.  The come around only too fast.  Why I'll soon be an old woman.  I am looking for Annie + the Dr. on the 17th - their first visit since they were married.  Pa came over when Annie was married, he is so feeble.  I fear he will not live long - but we all pray that the good Lord will spare him to us yet many years longer.  - Frances, February 1892

 

Frances has arrived at her 28th birthday, and already she feels like an old woman!  Twenty eight seems so young, even to me as a still-young person in my 30s!  How many times do we tell ourselves we are 'too old'?  We have so much to handle in our lives - sometimes, it does seem like the years start slipping away.  Frances is excited to see her sister, Annie, and her new brother-in-law.  Remembering their recent wedding, she thinks back to how her father looked - feeble, frail.  So often it is the burden of adult children to worry about their aging parents.  It is painful, and often overwhelming, to watch a loved one move through the last years of their lives.  It can certainly make you feel older than you are.