Reading in the Top of a Pine Tree

Donald and I live in the small house I grew up in. My Dad built the house and he, my mother, me and 4 brothers shared 2 bedrooms and 1 bath. We owned 15 acres of dense forest (woods) behind us that my daughter (Dori) would someday search for unicorns. Donald and I have renovated, restored, and refurbished the house into a cottage that we love living in. Mostly those woods are still back there and bring up many childhood memories. I'm sure mine are different from my brothers' memories and definitely different from Dori and her children.

This particular piece of land had many levels of terrain, some very steep, with a running creek meandering through the entire 15 acres so you felt like you were constantly jumping over the creek. Or better yet, crawling across a big old tree whose branch had grown across the creek and you could crawl over it or precariously walk/balance across it. Many trees had knots on them that were big enough to use as a seat. My Dad built a bicycle trail through the 15 acres and kept it clear for our bicycles. Talk about being ahead of your time for rough trail mountain biking and we spent a lot of time on it. Those 15 acres were so dense and mysterious and yet when the sun was shining, the woods glistened like the most ethereal place on earth.

The woods were filled with every kind of tree that exists, a large portion with hardwood trees and an equal forest filled with pine trees.

In the pine tree portion, my brothers and I built many forts where the walls were built of pine needles and our furniture consisted of pine branches and needles. Most of the time I pretended like they were houses and when I was alone in the woods, I would take my book and go into the fort and read. It was so quiet and peaceful.

There were 2 kinds of pine trees on the property. Some were so skinny you could shimmy up halfway, and then ride the tree down to the ground. Wow! What a rush! Other pine trees were as large as, say, a magnolia tree with the same kind of branches. They were lush, green, and the limbs would grow large and down to the ground. So you could climb the pine tree to the top and nobody knew where you were. That's where I did most of my reading in my childhood. I think that's why I love it when I first open a new book - I can so smell those old pine trees wafting out of that newly opened paper. They must make book pages out of pine trees.

I'm sure after I grew up and before Dori was born is when the unicorns moved in because I never thought about them being there, but Dori led her cousin Kacy on numerous hunts for the elusive beautiful beast.

Someone once told me that they thought in my youth, I may have been somewhat of an old soul in a young body. Now in my later years I strive to keep a youthful spirit. That big old pine tree isn't there anymore, but it's my unicorn.

I Love You, Cherryle

I've had the best couple of weeks this last part of November. My brother, Chris, came from Puyallup, Washington, to visit and he stayed with my Mom, which is just next door (actually down the hill, across the creek, back up a hill, etc. - it's the country.) Both Derrick and Dori and their families came here for Thanksgiving and stayed for 3 days. My Mom's birthday was during this time, so we had a small dinner for her which included Donald, Chris, Vic and his wife Barbara (another brother that lives locally on Lake Cherokee), Art and me. I have 4 brothers but 2 of them were out of town and couldn't make it here.

My children and grandchildren all tell me they love me with all they have in their hearts. My Mom says she loves me and I know this to be true for 64 years. Donald tells me he loves me with all his being. Each of these has my whole heart and I don't know how that's possible. I suppose only God knows this miracle.

There is something different about when my brothers say "I love you, Cherryle". They don't have to and they are not embarrassed about it. And they said those words this last couple of weeks and my heart sings. Mostly I'm happy that, as their older sister, I didn't screw up their childhoods so much that they can't say it now. So I love you too, Bubbas.

Due Diligence - No Regrets

I've decided to partially throw out my 'due diligence' fanaticism. I don't regret this and, probably, none of my family will regret it. This will be an ongoing process as I've practiced it for about 45 years and old habits are hard to expunge.

I still rotate my clothes in my closet and everything still has its rightful place, but I don't worry about my house being immaculately clean. I still have to keep clutter eliminated, which gives the ambiance of a clean house. Until someone is coming to visit, dust collects, sometimes the bed is unmade, the clothes to be washed are more stacked up, and the clothes in the dryer have been in there long enough that I have to put a wet towel in to redry and dewrinkle.

I became fanatical when I started my family. Now that my kids are grown and I see they decided to travel a different course, I figured out I spent too much time keeping things straight and fringing over it. I don't regret having been that anal, after all, Donald has become my 'huckleberry' (he named himself that when he does something that helps or makes me happy) and now he's that retarded, cleanliness freak.

I've done something wrong and I don't regret it. Donald was almost perfect when we met, and now with my help, he's earned his pedestal.

Small Tidings

While I was asleep last night, something visited all my clothes drawers and closet. Everything still says medium but they all feel more in the small range. My shoes are the only things that weren't affected by the small syndrome because they feel like they should be a half-size larger now.

Maybe it was The Grinch that left the small tidings because it is close to Christmas and I could use some new clothes. Not necessarily in the large size, but I think clothes manufacturers have got their sizes wrong lately. The good news about that is those Size 2s are now Size 4s. That's what I used to be in my 20s and 5'8" to boot. I'm still 5'7" and in my 60s but obviously not a Size 4 anymore. I think when I made my discovery this morning, The Grinch was waking me up to make a resolution before it could be a New Year's resolution, never to be kept.

This is the first day on my journey back to a real Medium, which is not a Large, but definitely not a Small.

Jinx 123

How many times as a kid did you say Jinx123 for 1,000 Cokes or whatever when you said something exactly at the same time someone else did before they could stop you?

I've been jinxed for a long time. Not a bad jinx, but a good one (if there is such a thing.) It seems jinxes come in threes, like the time our water heater, air conditioner and water well pump all went out the same week (when we didn't have any money) when we were living in Leander. Man, we didn't think we'd make it through that jinx . . . but we did! And our kids didn't even know about it.

The time my uncle in California passed away and my aunt sold us their travel trailer for just $1,000. What a deal! Except, pulling it on the way home with a very old Suburban, we spent $2,500 on 2 transmissions (in the desert, no less) not counting the cost of motels and food along the way, the towing charges and the cost of storing the trailer while the truck was being overhauled. That would also be one of those curves when we didn't have any money.

I've been jinxed since I first met Donald. He could step out on his front porch in Gladewater (15 miles from my front porch in Kilgore) and slap such a double whammy on me that I would stand at my Mom and Dad's bedroom window just listening for his tires to come down my little country road. And when I saw his headlights turn into my driveway, I was mashed potatoes. If you see him, don't tell him because I never admitted to him that I lived for those headlights. That's because his Dad often interfered with our dates and would find things for him to do that would either delay him or completely cancel our plans. Mind you, this was way before cell phones, so he didn't have a way to let me know he was on his way or not. Sometimes he would be stuck at his Dad's ranch without being able to communicate to me that he wasn't going to make it. I didn't want to wish too hard so I wouldn't jinx myself.

I guess you could say I'm jinxed by 2 brothers-in-law. One is too funny, one not enough. The one not enough would be Donald's twin - I guess Donald got the wit in that duo (lucky for me!). The other one torments my daughter and she loves it in a scary Formby kind of way. I also have 4 brothers that jinxed me. In their mischievousness, they did pull some pranks on me as they grew up and I'm not sure if it's over yet. Hope not.

When I start reading what I've written, I realize that I have been jinxed in my life (everybody is at some time), but when I write about my family you can replace the word 'jinx' with 'love' and that's what I really mean.

Unwelcome Surprises

When you are in the moment of the unwelcome surprise, you think you're not going to live through it. Then when a little or a lot of time passes and you start remembering some of them, most of them are quite funny. I asked Donald the other day if he could think of anything like that and at first he couldn't think of one. Then he started reminiscing and several came up between us. One of his analogies would be a turd in the punchbowl.

We were living in Houston when Derrick and Dori were both small children. Donald and I had gone to a ballet in downtown Houston and then to "the" restaurant across the street (it's still there.) We were dressed in sparkly gowns and suits and ties. We had ordered our drinks and were relaxing after the ballet (for me, getting over having to go to the ballet) and were looking at the menus, when from behind I heard a crashing sound and then wetness flooding my beautifully coiffed long blond hair, then down my back saturating my sparkly gown, all the way down to my panty hose and shoes. You can imagine what a strawberry daiquiri looks like on very natural, very blond hair. The only thing I could think about was making the waiter not feel so uncomfortable. Needless to say, our dinner was paid for which turned into a welcome surprise.

We were moving to Houston when Derrick was 5 and Dori was still in my belly. Our shipment of furniture and belongings hadn't arrived yet, so we had to stay at a hotel. Since we hadn't counted on that, I hadn't packed for this event. The hotel had a swimming pool, so to occupy Derrick, I let him go swimming - I don't remember why he had his bathing suit with him. I didn't. Derrick has always been pretty tall, but when he waded out farther then he was tall (still shallow water for me) and didn't know how to swim yet, my only choice was to wade in and save him. This was a most unwelcome surprise because that was all the clothes I had and I was saturated. It's one of those times when you want to both cuddle and punish your child at the same time.

Donald and I live in a very small and modest cottage with no halls and just rooms leading to other rooms. You would think we wouldn't be able to lose each other but we do quite often. There is a pass-through linked by a bathroom from one bedroom to another and each has its own door, so you do have privacy in the bathroom. Most of the time the doors are open and since the house is carpeted we move around pretty quietly. We are often surprising each other as we round the corner. The other day Donald was carrying his week's worth of pills in his hand when we both rounded the corner and he was so startled that he shook the container out in front of him towards me. Well, you can imagine how the rattling medicine man startled me. At the time, we were just getting over the surprise. But the other night when we were camping in Arkansas, we got to talking about that moment and both laughed so loud and hard for several minutes, re-enacting the scene, I'm sure we disrupted the campground. Neither one of us could breathe. And each time we died down, Donald would imitate his rattling the bottle again and we were once again with bellyaches from laughing. It's one of those "you have to be there moments" to appreciate the humor and I think we'll be recalling this unwelcome surprise a few times in the future.

My daughter, Dori, is not to be left out of one of my unwelcome surprises. It actually came in the guise of a nasty neighbor who was always tattling on the kids. We lived in a neighborhood that was still being developed and there were several houses under construction. Dori had a very mischievous friend, Robin, who was always coming up with new and better things to do to put their lives in jeopardy. Dori was about 9 years old when old Mrs. Windbag knocked on my door and asked if I knew (like I would just let Dori do things like this) my daughter and her friend were jumping off the second story of the uncompleted house to the ground. I didn't know, but by the time I got down to that house, the two curmudgeons had disappeared. I don't remember chastising Dori, but I think I probably explained she probably shouldn't do that anymore. And now 25 years later, I hear stories from Dori that make that leap off the second story sound like milquetoast. But it took her 25 years to come clean.

I have lots of other unwelcome surprises like these - they are the kind that you laugh at through all time.

Something Is Broken

My daughter, Dori, gave me this little kitten about 20 years ago. When it was new, it had 2 blue eyes (I thought they were painted on, but apparently not), a pink nose (also apparently not painted), it's ribbon has been tied in a perfect bow for 20 years, and it had 2 back paws. I felt like this was one of the items one of my two kids bought me that I definitely needed to keep in good shape and always display. It has moved many times, carefully packed, and then placed in many different themes, but always visual. He looks larger in the photo but is only about 2-1/2" tall. He's sitting on an antique stone grinding wheel so that gives anyone looking a sense of size.

Then our almost-perfect 2-1/2 year old grandson came to visit for a day. He's Dori's son so I guess it'll be okay. If it had been one of Derrick's kids, it might have been different, you think? His Ada was babysitting he and his 2-month-old little brother, so it would be one of those things Ada saw happen but couldn't move fast enough to save "the kitty." I didn't notice it until S was gone and I saw the "new kitty". Ada said it happened in milliseconds and it was not with malice. But, if you look close enough, you can see where he might have been driving the kitty around the grinding wheel. I'm just saying.


Could this precious little hooligan be the culprit?

What I Wish I Had Known Then

I was a pretty happy kid. My mom and dad were loving but strict. I lived in a household of fun, laughter, lots of outside play and we traveled. We weren't poor, but I know now how much my parents struggled to spread the dollars so we kids didn't know we didn't have very much.

I wish I had known that, even though you have to make good grades, you don't really have to stress out to make those straight As. I wish I had known that those kids that were so snobby because they had more money and would follow me from grade school to high school, absolutely had no effect on my adult life. It would have been so easy to go through school not giving a rip what people thought about me.

I wish I had known that, if all I had to do was make my grades (which I did) in the 5th grade and not worry about that horrible, grouchy, mean teacher I had, as soon as 5th grade was over I would only remember her name and 5th grade wouldn't even be a memory.

I wish I hadn't been so shy because I'm not now. I was never afraid, actually quite the opposite so my personality was already brewing. But what makes a girl so shy, especially when my mom and dad were always telling me how special I was?

I wish I hadn't worried so much about not being asked for dates in high school. I'll bless God for that because I might not have waited until I met Donald and then all the dynamics would have changed.

Try not to hate getting up on Sunday morning so much and having to get dressed to go to Sunday School and church. My mom was pretty insistent on that and I thank her for it. It was the basis for my morals and my impenetrable faith in God.

I wish I had taken college a little more seriously, because I would be a retired volleyball coach by now.

I wish I had known that what was in my future were a wonderful husband, 2 terrific kids, and 7 excellent grandchildren.

Now that I'm 64, I wish I had known that God was going to grant me mostly serenity, with just enough controversy to make it interesting but harmless. So, I'm going to look forward to the rest of my life and not worry about it because I know God is still the engineer and I am his ongoing drawing and design.

Apologies

This is very general because the post would be much too long if I apologized for every deed I have done that needed an apology. My first would be to God because He's given me so many chances to be a better person.

I apologize to my Grandmother Nanis (my Mom's Mom and last remaining grandparent) who passed away 41 years ago at age 64 for not seeing her more often. I so loved her - she didn't get cool until I was about 18 years old and then she had a transformation. She was a little Baptist lady that didn't like me wearing shorts (too bold for her Baptist taste.) And yet, when my now husband of 43 years broke up with me one summer, she drove me to the lake where he was partying with a bunch of friends and the "new girlfriend" and she helped me spy on them. She made exactly the right comments (not Baptist at all) and when we drove away from there, I felt slightly better. She was happy when Donald and I got married a few months later.

I apologize to my Dad Vernon (who passed away in January of 1999) for not telling him what a wonderful man he was until he was in a coma and I don't think could hear me anymore. But I said it plenty, over and over, at his bedside no matter whether he could hear me or not. Every year since then, ex-students of his have walked up to me and told me the things he did to change their lives forever, as their teacher and mentor. Why didn't I see this man with the same awe? I do now.

I apologize to my Mom Doris (who is alive and still kicking at 85.) The same thing is going to happen with her that did with my Dad. Why is it you don't know how great your parents are until you can't tell them anymore? I try to hug and kiss her as often as I can and hopefully I will have until her 90s to do this. She is an exceptional woman who is under appreciated by many of her family.

I apologize to my Son Derrick because we were so hard on him in his early years. It was before time outs so we spanked him. Half the time he probably didn't deserve it but people were watching so we felt the guilt of not disciplining because their outside opinions influenced us foolishly. He is a wonderful, successful man of 42 now and I have always said, in spite of me being his mother, he turned out great on his own.

I apologize to my Daughter Dori because I think I didn't see her clearly enough as a young child and a teen. She has always been so much fun that I forgot to look for signs of troubles she might have been experiencing. She is still really fun and I hope that is not still clouding my judgment. I also apologize for not being able to hold my tongue in giving way too much advice (which her brother doesn't get enough of from me) and just watch her enjoying life.

I apologize to my 4 brothers who are all now at least 55 years old. But when we were young kids, and me being the oldest, I'm certain I was way too bossy which is why I am who I am today. They gave me lots of practice.

I apologize to my Husband Donald. He is my greatest motivator, savior, confidante, and friend. And yet, I treat him with such disrespect sometimes. Of course, after I do that, I live with self-regret, beating myself up because he turns around and does something else nice that only puts him in good standing until the next time he does something wrong. He doesn't get it and I don't get it! Maybe I was just lucky enough to get a good man.

Dori's Third Son

We are presently being endowed with playing with and keeping her 3rd son (our grandson) for a couple of days. It has been a hoot!

However, he came with his older brother's Batman glove, minus the sound device. It hasn't been off his hand, even when he goes to bed at night.

Last night I lay down with him for a few minutes while he fell asleep. I could see "the glove" (it's not a hand anymore) stuck straight up to the ceiling. I could see it with the ambient light through the windows. Even after he was breathing deeply, "the glove" was still straight up, fingers spread apart (to keep it on since it is too large for him.) It would slowly fall toward me and then would spring straight up again with fingers spread apart as if it had a life of its own. Ada (his grandpa) slept with him and finally took "the glove" off because he thought it kept waking him up.

Today, it's about 11:30 am, it came to me that there was a new slightly sour smell in my house that I could not find. Then my precious little 2-year-old grandson came to me with "the glove" because it had fallen off and he wanted help putting it back on. There was the odor, only personified 100% because it had found air and now it was permeating the house. The inside of the glove is bad enough, but then I smelled of his hand. I told him to smell his glove and hand and he couldn't stand it. But, by gosh, it's back on his hand and will be when he gets back to his Mom's. She can deal with it. I only worry it might have grown to his hand by then.

My Older Baby and Her New Baby

Actually, she is a very young, fun, pretty 35 and she just had a little bitty baby (a preemie.)

Mostly, this post is about her best friends, and she has quite a few, but the handful of her better than best is who I'm going to talk about now. During Dori's traumatic march to have this baby beginning at about 6:00 am, they were loving, dutiful, worried, and attentive equal to and beyond me. When I got to the hospital (I'm 2 hours away by car), 2 of them were already there, 1 had already picked up her 2-year-old, and throughout that first day and the rest of her stay they were like her Moms and Dads. If any of you guys read this post, I want to tell you I am so glad you are part of my daughter's family.

It is almost over and we can almost breathe deeply, that is, until the little bitty comes home from the hospital. Dori is fit and ready to get back into the swing of being the mother of 4 and she now has 2 more kids than I do. So I guess that makes her more of an expert on the subject of children than me.

My Husband's Mother

Everytime we have a family function - a holiday, birthday, birth, whatever, she is either going to be late, change her plans at the last minute, cancel at the last minute or thrust herself into the mix with no warning.

For instance, when I choose to host a get together, I am, in fact, putting on a show, in which I am the performer and my guests are the audience. My guess is that whether she gets there or not and when, my mother-in-law is "stealing the show" - and she knows it.

When she is late or reschedules or barges in, the conversation is about her and that's what she is secretly hoping for.

We are all familiar with this type of person, who seeks attention by constantly creating a roller coaster of crises. These folks continually experience hypochondria, invent drama, and generate chaos in their relationships. The stress they cause is absolutely unnecessary, but it guarantees that the focus is always on them. The challenge comes when they insist that you join them on their crazy ride. So before drowning in my sorrows, I need to take back center stage by setting up boundaries for everyone attending my get togethers.

Since I can't change my mother-in-law, when something comes up in the future, I will let everyone involved know what time things are happening and stick to my agenda. After all, the majority of people are respecting my wishes.

Best of all, I will have drawn an internal boundary of my own. I'll have ended my habit of seeing his mom's thoughtlessness as a personal offense. When my mother-in-law does change her plans, I will make no mention of it because there is no point in rewarding rude behavior.

Most Important Day of My Life

According to Real Simple's rules, if I submitted my most important day, I could win $3,000. However, in thinking long and hard about that, I don't have a most important day of my life. I do have a most thrilling day, most spiritual day, most life-altering day, and happiest day. Listed, in no particular order of importance, they are:

Most thrilling:

I met Donald in 1962, we were married in 1964 and still are. That's not the thrilling part. My best friend, Wanda Fr... from high school, sat next to Donald Fo..., alphabetically, in Kilgore College orientation. She kept talking about this really cute guy she sat next to and I needed to meet him. I don't know why she didn't want him for herself. Anyway, we were sitting in the 'sub' and he walked through the door with a bunch of guys and she punched me excitedly and said, "That's him!" I thought she was pointing to the really good-looking guy, who turned out to be one of his best friends, and when she finally got me to look at Donald, I said he was cute, but not that good-looking. Little did I know, his personality was the good-looking part (did I mention he was cute too?) And, come to find out later, he was also the "Sweetheart of the Rangerettes' Sorority"! So time went by, and he started showing up on the sidewalk where I was walking to class and he would say 'hello' and I would say 'hi', obviously with a northern accent since my Dad had come from Minnesota. He still remembers that 'hi' to this day. So more time progressed. At the time, I had been hired by Beall's, a really up-scale department store in those days, to decorate their windows. There were sheer curtains that separated the window from where you entered to set up for the decoration. I was eating a snack on break behind the curtains and I saw him drive by slowly in his red sportscar with a load of other guys. And then he made the block and drove slowly by again and I thought "this can't be coincidence" and felt a little tingle. Then I was paged a little later and he was on the phone and asking me for a date that night. I accepted and then proceeded to run through the store yelling, laughing, leaping 2 stairs at a time to the second floor and then back down again. I think at one time I may have leaped from the balcony, caught the overhead fixture, backflipped off that , somersaulted, and landed on my feet, all to the applause of all the other employees! I was only 18 and everybody at Beall's was so excited for me that they allowed me to be completely thrilled.

Most spiritual day:

My Dad had been sick from various ailments for about 6 years, fluctuating from life and death. He was a vibrant, healthy, fun influence in my life. My Mom, Donald, and I were so tired and defeated from the numerous emergency ambulance rides to the hospital. Daddy had been comatose for a couple of months and hadn't said a word, except his eyes were always open. I would visit and talk to him like he could hear me and so I had a chance to say everything I should have said when there could have been conversation between us and I know he could hear me. Donald, always thinking of my wellbeing, suggested we have people over for dinner because he thought it would take my mind off things for just a little while. Early in the morning of the dinner day, I decided to drop by and see Daddy before I went grocery shopping. He was sitting up in bed, looking at the nurses passing through the room, and he was alone - my Mom had finally gone home to rest. He looked at me, smiled, and said, "Hi, Sweetheart." That was all he said. The next morning he passed away. I've always believed in God, but at that moment, alone, when he smiled and later when I reflected on the moment, I believed, like I have never believed, that God performed a miracle for me and I saw so clearly through my Dad, without a doubt, he had to have a Heaven to go to and so would I some day. Spiritually, I was renewed.

Most life-altering day:

Donald and I were with 3 other couples for a weekend getaway. We were floating down the Guadalupe when everyone decided we needed to go down the 'chute'. It was rapidly cascading water down a chute where you rode (sat) on top of your innertube and when you got to the bottom, you had to hold really tight so you didn't come off your tube. Little kids were standing on their tubes and going down the chute - they have no fear. Donald went down in front of me and when I got to the bottom, my tube flipped and I was whirling to the bottom of the river. There had been a couple of drownings earlier that day that we didn't know about. It was such a spout of water that I couldn't get straight to go up instead of down. By this time, Donald had moved himself into a position to see my tube but no me. Later (I lived) I found out he was frantically paddling back yelling at the lifeguards that I was not coming up. While all this was going on, I had been under long enough to know the next breath was water. I've never asked an expert if you can cry underwater, but I know I was because all the thoughts of never seeing my children, my husband, my parents again and then the thought of what they were about to experience was devastating. I prayed. And a hand pulled me out of the water - a lifeguard- where I had swirled close enough to the banks he could snatch me up. Not even the lifeguards were going in the water that day. God altered my life that day and I will never forget it.

Happiest day:

Donald and I had been married a couple of months. It was kind of rough-going before we got married because we had broken up. I moved to Dallas and became a flight attendant and, I think, Donald heard I was having too much fun. Actually, my heart was still broken over the break up and when he showed up at my door, I did the Beall's leaping fiasco (internally, of course) again, and shyly let him in. We were married soon after. But the happiest part is still to come. Back to being married a couple of months . . . we were standing in a theatre line to see a movie at North Texas University (he was still going to school), and I couldn't believe I was standing in line with him then and forever. And if you can remember an instance from 44 years ago that made you happy, that would have to be the happiest day of my life. Not counting having my 2 kids (because they are reading this blog.)