23 minute read
Voices
Your Mental Health
By Chase Cotton, Community Director, The Willow Center 317-852-3690
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Resilience – What It Is and What It Isn’t
Oxford dictionaries define the word resilience as, “the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.” This definition seems well enough on a surface-level reading. However, when the word is considered in the context of our mental health, we must consider what resilience is and what resilience is not.
Those of us who are over the age of 40 may remember resilience as being drilled into our psyche by way of the “pick yourself up by your bootstraps” message that was so popular a few decades ago, and still lingers today. Unfortunately, this message has a subtle way of dehumanizing and decontextualizing those on the receiving end of it, which can lead to problematic outcomes in one’s life. Resilience is much more complex than simply dusting yourself off after a painful situation.
There are three important items to consider as we think about resilience within this popular “bootstraps” message.
1) Not everybody has boots in the first place. For example, it is much more difficult for a single mom working two jobs that both require transportation to pick herself up and move on after a major financial setback such as a car breakdown than it is for a middle class married partner with reliable transportation and a stable income from a single salaried job.
2) We all may need help putting our boots on from time to time. Being an adult in the year of 2021 is no joke. Stress and labor burnout are at an all time high, which may be correlated to increased rates of depression, anxiety, and substance use across the board. The saying “pick yourself up…” implies that you are expected to have the strength to do so. But, sometimes we need help! Whether it’s mental health counseling, or it’s a night off from watching the kiddos – there is no shame in asking for and needing help.
3) Your boots may need to be replaced. Maybe the reason you are going through this painful experience right now is because your boots are worn out or don’t fit well. For example, we each cope with stress in healthy and unhealthy ways. Perhaps the unhealthy coping mechanisms we develop like over-eating, drinking too much, smoking, or numbing ourselves from processing our feelings are the ill-fitting boots. New boots, or new healthier coping mechanisms, are a much better way to “pick yourself up” and to keep yourself up.
I think it’s time we redefine resilience. It is so much more than just picking yourself up by your bootstraps! Resilience is taking good care of yourself, and taking care of each other. Resilience is knowing your own warning signs when things are getting difficult. Resilience is reaching out for help when needed. Resilience is a fresh start and a positive attitude. If we define resilience this way, we just may find that it’s been a part of us all along.
Notable Women of Hendricks County
Ruth E. Gentry was born on a farm near Stilesville in 1862, youngest daughter of Jeremiah and Lucretia Gentry. Ruth received her early education in the public schools of that town, a start that led her to become the first woman born in Indiana to receive a doctoral degree in Mathematics.
Graduating from Indiana State Normal School at Terre Haute in 1880, she taught for three years, saving her money to continue her education. She enrolled in the University of Michigan, receiving her Bachelor’s Degree in 1890, along with a scholarship to any college she chose. She selected Bryn Mawr College in Pennsylvania.
In 1894, Gentry was received her Ph.D. in Pure Mathematics, with her Minors in Physics and Applied Mathematics. Her thesis, “On the Forms of Plane Quartic Curves,” was printed in 1896.
She became one of the first women admitted to the American Mathematical Society. She was appointed Head of Mathematics at Vassar College in New York, where she was the first mathematics faculty member with a Ph.D. She was promoted to Associate Professor in 1900.
She died of breast cancer on October 18, 1917, at Methodist hospital. The funeral took place at the home of her nephew, Emory Gentry, in Indianapolis. She was buried in the family plot at the Stilesville cemetery.
Memories of Past Times
Lucille Stamper (1927-1915), did something more of us should do. She took time to write down her memories for her grandchildren and friends. Some of these articles were published in the Indianapolis Star in a column in called “A View from Home” and some articles were also included in the Reminisce magazine.
While going through some of the files in The Republican office, we found an envelope with a few of Lucille’s stories. The article following is one of her memory treasures.
The Apron Story
What do you remember about an apron that your mother or grandmother wore? My memory tells me that it was a large coverall type apron made out of pretty flowered cotton material and trimmed with bias tape and maybe rick-rack.. It did cover the whole dress underneath and tied or buttoned jn the back
An apron had many uses. Mother used it as a basket when she gathered the eggs or carried in a few tomatoes from the garden. She also filled her apron basket with shelled com and carried it to the chicken yard to feed the chickens. That same apron was also used by her to shoo the chickens out of the garden; she’d run out and flap the skirt of her apron to scare the chickens away.
If Mother was out walking around in the little fruit orchard she might pick up some ripe apples or pears that had fallen to the ground and carry them into the kitchen in her apron basket. They might be bruised but they would still have a few good bites in them. Late in the afternoon when Mother would go to the wood pile to get some kindling and small pieces of wood to start the morning fire in the kitchen cookstove, she would carry them into the house in her apron basket. That same apron was also often used as a holder for removing hot pans from that cookstove.
That soft apron was also used often in the summertime in the hot kitchen to wipe the perspiration from Mother’s brow and even wipe her nose in an emergency. Tears from a grandchild were often wiped away gently with that apron and behind it was a good hiding place if the shy grandchild needed such a place when the preacher came calling.
When the men on the farm were out working in the fields, they could be called in to the noon meal by the waving of an apron, if they weren’t too far from the house. That same apron was also used to shoo the pesky flies away from the dinner table when the men sat down to eat, and in the afternoon when Mother sat down in the porch swing for a moment of rest, she would put the apron up across her arms and shoulders to keep her from getting chilled by the cool breeze.
In the event of a surprise visitor coming up the front walk, Mother used her apron skirt as a dust cloth, and if she had time before that visitor got to the door, she would take off that apron and grab a clean one that was hanging on the back of the kitchen door, fluff up her hair with her fingers, and greet that visitor with all the charm of a farm housewife.
At the end of the day that apron of many uses had one more place to go; when Mother took it off at the end of her busy day, she would use it to cover up the birdcage where our canary named Oscar was sitting on his perch. What a day! What a unique piece of clothing!
Do you have a memory treasure to share with our readers? Send it to P.O. Box 149, Danville, IN 46122 or by email to betty@TheRepublicanNewsaper.com. Please include your name, address and phone number. Writers names may be withheld on request.
A Note From Bee
My husband and I have gone to about 25 Road Scholar programs through the years. We have also taken our three grandsons to intergenerational programs. Road Scholar programs are outstanding.
Road Scholar has come up with something new that we are very interested in. They are one hour online lectures given by expert instructors. The lectures are very affordable, $25. If we went to the movies we would probably pay this much or more. So far we have watched The Building of the Golden Gate Bridge, The Gold Rush in the Klondike, Migration of Butterflies, and Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass. We have signed up for two more about Churchill and Songs of the North and South. Longer online programs are also available. Of course they are a lot more expensive. We are considering watching some of these this winter. I have trouble walking and these programs are especially appealing to me.
All the lectures have been outstanding but the Herb Alpert lecture so far has been our favorite. We learned so much about him. He is not Hispanic but Jewish. His first big hit was in 1963, The Lonely Bull, which made him and his partner millionaires. Even though he is 86, he can still play the trumpet. He just released a new album in September Catch the Wind. In addition to his musical talent he has also become a well known sculptor.
Road Scholar is a great way to keep learning. Bee Jones
MASTERING THE HOUSE useful tips for homeowners
Tim Paino Owner/Inspector Heartland HouseMaster
Fire Safety
Each Fall in Indiana we move our clocks back for daylight savings time. As we perform this task, we are reminded to check our smoke detectors to make sure they are functioning properly. Most home fires happen in the months of December and January. According to the State’s web site, 74 Hoosiers lost their lives because of residential fires in 2020. Today’s building codes require new homes to have an interconnected smoke alarm system. This means when one detector sounds, they all begin sounding. As you check your detectors here are a few other facts you may want to consider.
Location: Today’s standard is to have a smoke detector in every bedroom, outside of each sleeping area (such as the hallway), and on every level of the home including the basement. You should not install detectors directly in the kitchen to prevent false alarms. Also, they should be a distance from windows, doors, or ducts where drafts might interfere with their operation. Place them on the ceiling or within 12 inches of the ceiling on the wall. In multi-level homes the smoke detector should be placed on the ceiling at the bottom of the stairs leading to the next level.
Type: There are two types of smoke alarms – ionization and photoelectric. An ionization smoke alarm is generally more responsive to flaming fires, and a photoelectric smoke alarm is generally more responsive to smoldering fires. For the best protection, both types of alarms or combination ionization-photoelectric alarms, also know as dual sensor smoke alarms, are recommended.
Design Life: We are told a smoke detector has a design life of 8 to 10 years. If your alarms have been in the home for an extended time their sensors begin to lose sensitivity. The test button only confirms the battery is still good, it does not test the sensors. You would need an aerosol can of smoke simulating smoke from a fire to do this. Consumer Reports recommends replacing the detector if it is older than 10 years.
Carbon Monoxide (CO): CO poisoning yields 1,200 deaths and 50,000 ER visits annually in the United States. The standard smoke detector does not warn against CO gases. They do make dual detectors now serving for both smoke and carbon monoxide. Carbon monoxide is slightly lighter than air and typically associated with warm air, so it will rise. They should be at least 5 feet off the ground but not right next to or over a fireplace or flame-producing appliance.
Let us be smart about the use of extension cords, portable heaters and candles this winter. Make sure you have a clean chimney and proper guards for the fireplace. These cause of most residential fires during the winter months. Prevention is always better than detection, but detection saves lives.
A Squirrel About Town
By Archy
“My compliments to the students on their Halloween stories in last week’s paper,” Archy said. “It’s good to see young imaginations at work. I wonder if they were made aware that their opening sentence, ‘One dark and stormy Halloween night...’ was a parody of one written in 1830?”
I agreed the Danville South Elementary students had fun with the assignment and hoped that the teacher had given them some information on the opener’s history.
“With our genetic memory, young squirrels acquire their cultural literacy sooner than humans,” Archy mused. “It must be difficult for humans to start tabula rasa fashion. How do you do it?”
“You have to begin with literacy,” I ventured a guess. “Then exposure to cultural history in a variety of ways. School plays a part, but I think I gathered more from reading books on my own, and old movies. It’s funny, it seems I’ve known about Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s ‘dark and stormy night’ line as long as I can remember. Of course, I grew up with Charles Shultz’s Peanuts cartoons, and Snoopy’s use of that literary chestnut.”
The squirrel smiled. “One of my favorites as well,” he said. “In fact, Warner Brothers cartoons were ripe with cultural references - Hungarian Rhaposdy from Tom and Jerry, Wagner opera from Elmer Fudd.” Archy paused while he recalled the 1957 cartoon. “What’s Opera, Doc? indeed!” he laughed.
I said that cultural literacy, whatever the source, is key to a shared experience that can be a shortcut to understanding. ‘It was a dark and stormy night...’ might be purple prose, but still has meaning today.”
Archy grinned, “Indeed. You might say it was best of lines, it was the worst of lines.”
How to Keep Cannas Through the WInter
By Colletta Kosiba Hendricks County Master Gardener
Remember it’s time to dig your cannas after the frost has killed back the foliage.
The canna lily is a rhizomatous perennial (not a bulb) with tropical-like foliage and large flowers that resemble an iris flower. Left in the ground, the rhizome freezes = end of plant. So, you must dig the rhizome Remember it’s time to dig your cannas after the frost has killed back the foliage. The canna lily is a rhizomatous perennial (not a bulb) with tropical-like foliage and large flowers that resemble an iris flower. Left in the ground, the rhizome freezes = end of plant. So, you must dig the rhizomes, store the cannas where they will not freeze to be able to enjoy next year. Storing cannas is simple and easy. 1. Wait until the frost has killed back the foliage. 2. Cut back the foliage to 4 to 6 inches, to be able to see base of the plant 3. Dig several inches away from stem as cannas form new rhizomes.
4. Remove soil from rhizomes (dirt holds moisture). Some folks spray with water to help with soil removal, then let rhizomes dry (cure)- maybe as long as two weeks. 5. Dust with antifungal product. Wrap each one in newspaper, place in carboard box or garbage can with lid off, in a cool, dry place (a garage or basement).
When over-wintering cannas, check the rhizomes every month or so and remove any that have start to rot.
Options
After curing, you may put new peat moss or cedar shavings on bottom of container—then layer rhizomes with moss or shavings.
I have seen cannas just stored in a garbage can in cool place do fine. You could experiment with different storage just don’t let them freeze.
As you are digging them up, you will be amazed how many rhizomes you get from the one plant. You can share the canna bounty next gardening year
Someone has been adding soil to my garden. The plot thickens.
A Bark From the Past: Henry
[Editor’s Note: The Republican’s first four-footed correspondent was Henry. A mixed breed rescue dog, Henry would make observations about being a dog in a small town. The articles have been languishing in the computer’s memory and we thought a new audience might enjoy some canine commentary.]
My world has become a little bit darker. I found out that my beloved Sunshine has crossed the Rainbow Bridge. ol She got really, really sick and felt very bad. She wasn’t going to get better, so her vet helped her to cross the bridge. And that was just the right thing to do. If humans could understand what dogs say, we could tell them that we are a proud breed. Dogs want to keep up appearances, and by the time our humans can tell that we are ill, we are very ill. The best thing they can do for us is to help us cross the bridge with some dignity. I know that my humans will do that for me when the time comes.
I also lost my older sister Annie not long ago. She crossed over in her sleep.
Losing these two beautiful females who were both so important to me started me thinking. We will all cross the Rainbow Bridge someday. But what are we crossing to? What will we find on the other side?
I think there must be a big field there, with lots of room to run, soft grass to lie in and clear pools of water to drink. All kinds of animals will be there, living together in peace, and kind humans, too. Oh, and lots of kibble! Mountains of kibble! That’s how I see the place that the Rainbow Bridge Goes To.
I asked a few of my buddies what they thought was on the other side.
Emmett, the Shepherd, thought that there would be lots of squirrels to chase and clean paths to walk.
Cookie, The Republican’s cat, said there would be shallow pools of fish to snatch and endless saucers of milk, with an occasional bowl of Frank’s spaghetti sauce. And a pillow for naps every few yards, so you could sack out whenever you wanted.
Lucky, the Westie, thought that there wouldn’t be any skunks there, but his older sister Cotton would be there, and he was looking forward to playing with her.
Hunter, the beagle, said that there would be rabbits to track and moles to dig up.
My sister Sadie wants there to be lots of rocks that are just the right size to carry around. So many different ideas!
I think I have figured out the way it really is. What is on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge is whatever we want to be there for us! Running room for me, squirrels for Emmett, pillows for Cookie, anything that anyone wants! And if that’s right, I will at last meet my beautiful Sunshine!
Now, don’t misunderstand. I don’t want to cross the bridge any sooner than I absolutely have to. Sunshine is already there, and she will still be there when I get there, too. Just thinking about that makes me a lot less afraid of crossing. And that makes me feel better about everything else!
Thought for the Day: “I don’t know if this Heaven business is true, but if it is, I intend to spend a good deal of the first million years painting.”—Winston Churchill.
Jerome K. Jerome
JUST AN OBSERVATION
BASEBALL
By Janet Beam
With the World Series in the news right now, baseball has been talked about a lot lately. As for me, if the Yankees are not playing, I really don’t care who wins but I do enjoy watching baseball. Now basketball is a different matter altogether. Basketball is just a bunch of grown men running from one end of the court to the other, usually making a basket along the way.
But give me a good old baseball game any time. My brother and I played baseball with the neighbor kids during the summer and put together a baseball diamond in our empty lot. First base was a telephone pole. I was always the pitcher; that way I didn’t have to chase the ball (there was a method to my madness). I was doing fine until I got hit by a line drive right to the stomach. From then on, I tended to jump back after each pitch.
But my real fondness probably stems from the Saturdays when my dad and I would watch a baseball game on TV, usually the Yankees. This was in the days of Roger Maris, Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Whitey Ford, Gil Mc- Dougald and Tony Kubek, with Casey Stengel as manager followed by Ralph Houk. My dad would be in his recliner with a beer and I would be on the couch with an ice cold Coke and a bag of potato chips. Do kids even do that anymore? Do they sit in the same room with their parents and enjoy something on TV suitable for everyone? If they don’t, they are truly missing a blessing.
On a lazy afternoon, I still like to lay on the couch with the soft sportscaster’s voice giving a play-by-play. It takes me back to the afternoons with my dad.
Just an observation.
Scott Russell Sanders
Hunting Tips & Reflections
By Mike E. Neilson
Mike Neilson, longtime Danville High School teacher and longtime hunting enthusiast is sharing his hunting experience with our readers. He’s also shared his knowledge in three books, available on Amazon. com.
The Misses
(This piece contains puns, sarcasm, parody and really, really bad humor. If you are looking for deep-hidden knowledge or pearls of wisdom, please read another article.)
As much as I’d love to talk about the Mrs., I’m actually writing about missing an animal while I’m out hunting.
It happens to almost everybody who goes out hunting or fishing. You have a perfect opportunity to bag that big 12-point buck, or haul in that 7-pound bass or triple bearded 25-pound turkey and then you flat out blow the shot or strike. It happens to the best and worst of us, except, you know, that one guy who always gets something when they go out and it’s always better than anybody else’s. You know the guy, the one that releases the state record fish so others can catch it or just never got the picture or mount to actually prove they did what they did. And then there’s the rest of us mere mortals that, try as we might, eventually wind up with a miss. There I typed the “M” word. Let’s look at the art of missing a bit closer, shall we?
I know I’ve had my share of epic failures over the seasons, and I just experienced one the other day. Climbing down from my deerstand, I was gathering up my gear and look up to see a doe perfectly broadside (and legal) munching on acorns 30 yards away. Up comes the crossbow (shoulder surgery in June and I’m still rehabbing). I ease the crossbow up, put the 50-yard pin right in the boiler room and touch off the trigger. The bolt streaks right over the back of the deer and it prances merrily away. In comes the five stages of missing.
The first stage is denial. NO WAY did I just miss that slam-dunk shot at that deer. It was right there; I mean right there! Nothing to inhibit the flight of the arrow, no distractions, nope, I couldn’t have missed. I heard a noise, but I bet that was after the arrow passed through the deer. Oh yeah, I was in complete surprise and shock that the deer didn’t drop. Come on, you (the deer) are supposed to fall over after 20 yards. Didn’t you read the script?
Stage two: anger. Stupid crossbow! If I had my compound bow this would never have happened. I bet there was some stupid limb or leaf that made my arrow fly too high. I can’t believe I didn’t use the right pin. I’m an idiot for thinking the deer was 50 yards away when it was really only 30 yards away. I’m such a terrible hunter, I don’t even know why I do this stupid sport. I put the treestand in the wrong stupid spot because I can’t scout deer properly. Why didn’t I just take another second or two to compose myself and focus on the shot? And on, and on, and on. I’m mad at everything, the deer, the squirrels, the weather, and of course, myself. Yep, gotta go vent some more, maybe scream at the television for a while.
The third step of missing is bargaining. Hey, maybe I did hit the deer, I’ll move up this trail a little farther. Maybe it was standing a little off to this side, so I’ll search here as well. I bet if I just go a bit further, I’ll find the deer (even when it is clear there is no sign of a hit). Yep, if I just do this, I’ll see a dead deer soon. No amount of bargaining is going to bring that shot back but you just must try. Also, forget about divine intervention or making deals with the devil. If you miss, you miss.
The next stage is depression, a feeling I know all too well. I worked hard all summer to shoot this crossbow effectively. I slugged through the heat of late summer with a bad right shoulder to put up stands and all that effort resulted in a big fat miss. Heck, two weeks before that I took a farther shot and got a deer, why couldn’t I do that this time? I’m such a lousy hunter. I put the stand in the wrong place, I can’t shoot straight, I just stink at this whole hunting business. I might as well just take up golf or pickle ball. (No offense to my golfer and pickle baller friends. I’m sure you sport takes a lot of skill as well.) Why do I spend all this money, time, and energy when I can’t connect? I am the Eeyore of the hunting world. Time to go back to bed.
And lastly, the final stage of missing: acceptance. Yes, you missed! You missed so bad, and the deer didn’t even have the decency to bolt for its life. Yep, that deer just hopped away like you were no threat at all. Face it pal, you shot high, lost your arrow, and lost the deer. Time to regroup, formulate another plan and hit it again. Nice try, but not good enough.
I have missed so many critters and opportunities, I can flow through the stages of missing fairly quickly as this is familiar territory for me. I might hang on to the anger part and revisit it a time or two walking out of the woods and driving home but the acceptance part helps me to focus on going out again and trying to not make the same mistake again.
How ever you handle the dreaded misses in any aspect of your life, I wish you the best of luck and perseverance in your chosen activity. Try to shrug off those misses quickly and look forward to the next opportunity!
