Start Your Day Right and Don't End it Drinking Orange Pop

From whom do you take advice? I learned the basics in life from my grandma.

“Oh Judi, it’s time to wake up,” Grandma sang sweetly from the doorway of the “big bedroom” of her Detroit Lakes, Minnesota cottage.

In reality, while the bedroom was the larger of the two bedrooms in the tiny cottage, it was probably only about 10 feet by 10 feet. To say the least, it was a tight squeeze with Grandma’s full bed, nightstand, and dresser, especially because Grandma and Grandpa had recently crammed in a bunkbed to stow a couple of grand-Stoas at night. Still, in my child’s eye, Grandma’s bedroom and cottage was oh so grand.

Stretching in Grandma’s bed that morning under the open window, I heard the birds sing and the summer breeze whisper through the leaves of deciduous trees that generously shared their shade with the string of lake cottages along the beach. I watched sparkles of light dance like hundreds fairies across the bedroom ceiling of burlap—probably asbestos—tiles. I was delighted seeing sunlight refract from the beautiful blue waves on Big Detroit Lakes into the cottage bedroom window. But because it was June 1963, and I was five, I knew nothing of refraction and angles, and knew something about dancing fairies from watching the weekly opening of Disney’s Wonderful World of Color on our black and white TV.

Excited for the day, I hopped from Grandma's tall bed to the wide red floorboards below. My feet pattered lightly on the floor as I half ran to the tiny bathroom before I joined Grandma in the combined living room and dining room.

She sat in her green rocker, atop a green, red, black and white floral seat cushion. Bathed in warm light from the sunshine streaming in through the East facing windows, Grandma sipped a cup of coffee and listened to the Lakeland radio DJ sharing the Detroit Lakes and Calloway area weather forecast.

Grandma juggled her coffee cup with jotting the day’s agenda on a recipe card. Her trusty yardstick was close by, leaning against the knotty pine wall paneling. Grandma used the yardstick to measure her daily cottage projects and as a cane to provide her additional balance as she walked in her mid-heeled shoes around the sloped yard. She wore a rubber band around her wrist that she used to affix the note card to her pocketbook when she was finished making her to do list.

“Hello Dear. Well what a big girl you’ve become. You slept through the night and did not cry for your parents,” Grandma said. “And by not drinking pop right before bed, you didn’t wet the bed last night as you did the night before.”

“I think I was just sweating Grandma,” I said, trying to believe it and make her believe it too. With my chin just clearing the top of the dining table adorned with a red tartan tablecloth, I stared at the Kellogg’s’ Variety Pack even though I knew I was choosing Rice Krispies.

“No dearie, that wasn’t sweat. You wet the bed, but that’s okay it happens. And I shouldn’t have given you orange pop to drink right before bedtime,” she said simply.

With that, we were done airing the dirty laundry of the infamous orange pop bedwetting episode.

“Oh my. Where did the time go?” Grandma asked. “I want to catch a few minutes of Don Dresser on WDAY.”

Grandma got up and went to the plastic electric analog radio sitting on the fireplace mantle where she expertly swiveled the dial to WDAY Fargo on 970 AM. Don Dresser was a popular morning radio host with a pleasant, diaphragm-fed voice, humorous and kind personality, and of course a Fargo accent.

I ate my cereal, listened to Don, and watched Grandma write notes. She chuckled at Don's humorous coverage of Fargo comings and goings, yet still bounced her recipe card lightly on her lips as she thought about her day or current events.

One of the amenities of our beloved cottage was that we had unobstructed 180 degree view of the lake and beach from our living and dining room, because windows stretched across the three outside walls. The dancing light fairies caught my attention again and I looked past Grandma to the beautiful green lawn and trees rolling gently down to the sparkling blue water.

“Boy,” I thought. “I can’t wait to run out and find one of the Thompsons to play or swim with.” I enthusiastically chomped a big spoonful of Rice Krispies.

Grandma must have read my mind and set sail on a new course for my morning by the lake.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t,” she said. “Once you’re finished with your breakfast, I have a few jobs for you to do. Then you are free to play the rest of the day.”

I nodded, slowed my chew and sat back in my chair. Grandma was right.

I remembered that earlier in the week, when they were deciding if they would break me out from of the pack of Stoa kids, Mom asked me if I would be a good girl and help Grandma. Grandma needed young flexibility, strength, and willingness to do the chores required to open the cottage after a long, cold Minnesota winter. It served the dual purpose to take one kid off Mom’s hands.

Over the weekend, my two older brothers had helped Grandpa and Dad put in the dock. That task took a lot of time under Grandpa’s supervision to meticulously adjust the dock height and ensure everything was level and plumb.

Grandma’s opening the cottage chores were focused inside and included priming the pump to get well water into the cottage, replacing the winter burlap curtains with bamboo blinds for the crazy but awesome number of windows, sweeping and removing critter-carrying debris from the stone front porch and sidewalks, and cleaning burned remnants from the fireplace so that our fires could breathe and warm the cottage on cool nights.

“This is a good lesson for you Judi that I want you to remember,” Grandma said.

“What do you mean, Grandma?” I asked.

“Well you are learning a good life practice to start each day right. Get up, have a healthy breakfast, and then get your work done first when you’re fresh so that you are free in the afternoon to play and do whatever you want. And you will feel well of yourself for having accomplished something each day.”

“Okay,” I said as I nodded and slurped the last of the milk from my cereal bowl.

“Okay,” Grandma repeated with a smile, a little tweet of a whistle through her lips and a few claps of her hands. “Let’s go make the bed my good little helper.”

With that I hopped up and followed Grandma to the big bedroom.

Grandma passed in 1992. I know she is happy that I have tried to follow her guidance through my life. I like to rise early to write or begin other tasks. I make a to do list each day and get a good feeling from checking off items as I accomplish them. And I still enjoy cleaning out a dirty fireplace. I feel Grandma over my shoulder, encouraging me and letting me know when I’ve done a good job.

And my life lesson for you? Start your day early and don't end it drinking orange pop.

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