Eyelashes are the bane of so many women, not men because they either have great ones or it just doesn't matter. Eyelashes can be perfectly shaped and long, but then you get into what is the best mascara because there are issues with allergies, color, accidentally poking the wand in your eye . . .
Then you have eyelashes like mine, which I'm sure I inherited from my Norwegian grandmother, that are short, blond, and straight. So I end up with the same issues as the perfectly eye-coiffed women. I wore false ones back in the day for about 10 years when it was the thing. I was so good at applying them I could do it in the dark, without a mirror, riding in the back seat on a bumpy road, on the way to a party (my sister-in-law was back there with me doing the same thing), and when we stepped out of the car we were HOT! Or so we thought.
A few days ago, while at WalMart, I decided to peruse the eyelash aisle as I have been reading that false eyelashes were back in. I still have the same short, blond, straight ones I had 40 years ago. There were a lot more sizes and shapes to choose from but I made a choice and purchased a pair. They sat there staring at me from the dresser for several days before I got the nerve to open the case.
I have to wear "cheater" glasses to read and obviously to see up close to apply eyelashes. But first, getting the glue on the rim was a considerable challenge. I still had glue on parts of my arm for several days after and it wouldn't wash off. Then I tried to apply them without my glasses, which didn't work, because I needed to see up close. But the glasses also got in my way . . . what to do?
I did get one on finally and did a fine job, I must say. However, when I started applying mascara (which enhances and darkens), I discovered that they had left my lid about midway and traveled toward my eyebrow, glued there I might add. The trash can was their next destiny.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Squirting
This is my first full day on the job of keeping Stone and Cade and it started pretty early. Not with them - they both slept until about 7:30 am. But I'm an early riser so my day started when I opened my eyes at 3:40 am.
First, though, I woke up at 10:40 pm (Stone and I went to bed at 9:00 pm), thinking it was at least midnight, by a loud screeching sound and I thought it was Cade. I made a mad dash for his bedroom and there was total silence and he was breathing smoothly so I thought it must be something outside. This morning when it became slightly daylight outside, I saw that Bodie, their cat, had thrown up a fur ball, thus the screeching sound.
Now to one of my most blond moments (I've already called it so nobody needs to follow up, thank you very much.) Not being familiar with the sounds of Dori and Chad's neighborhood, this morning after I got up, while it was still dark and about 5:00 in the morning, I started to hear a steady stream of traffic outside. This being Sunday I wondered after the first 3 or 4 cars passed by what in the heck was going on. Then after 10 or so cars I finally got fed up, thinking there was no way a funeral procession could be going by at that time, and I proceeded out the back door (much safer than getting caught in my pajamas out front.) Almost the second I stepped out I was hit in the face and body by a blast of water, soaking my hair and clothes . . . it was the water sprinkler which is obviously set for around 5:30 to come on and squirts the yard and the side of the house, ergo, the sound of passing cars.
To be continued . . .
First, though, I woke up at 10:40 pm (Stone and I went to bed at 9:00 pm), thinking it was at least midnight, by a loud screeching sound and I thought it was Cade. I made a mad dash for his bedroom and there was total silence and he was breathing smoothly so I thought it must be something outside. This morning when it became slightly daylight outside, I saw that Bodie, their cat, had thrown up a fur ball, thus the screeching sound.
Now to one of my most blond moments (I've already called it so nobody needs to follow up, thank you very much.) Not being familiar with the sounds of Dori and Chad's neighborhood, this morning after I got up, while it was still dark and about 5:00 in the morning, I started to hear a steady stream of traffic outside. This being Sunday I wondered after the first 3 or 4 cars passed by what in the heck was going on. Then after 10 or so cars I finally got fed up, thinking there was no way a funeral procession could be going by at that time, and I proceeded out the back door (much safer than getting caught in my pajamas out front.) Almost the second I stepped out I was hit in the face and body by a blast of water, soaking my hair and clothes . . . it was the water sprinkler which is obviously set for around 5:30 to come on and squirts the yard and the side of the house, ergo, the sound of passing cars.
To be continued . . .
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Sitting
Dori, Chad, Pearce and Cole are on their first vacation roadtrip together and their final destination is Ouray, Colorado, and all the fun things around that part of the country. They'll be gone from Saturday to Saturday.
At first we were going to split the week up with Chad's parents, but Chad's Mom had just been here all the way from northern Arkansas to help Dori through an extremely painful kidney stone trauma (we had already been gone about 3 days on a camping trip to the Clinch River in Tennessee) and to take care of Dori's 2 youngest. So as a tradeoff, Donald and I are sitting those 2 youngest.
We started out by meeting halfway in Canton because we were going to keep Stone and Cade at our house. Our air conditioner started acting a little weird and not getting cool enough so even the first half day, Donald and I were not so friendly (heat remember!). Our air conditioner couldn't cool our house below 82 degrees. That was yesterday, Friday, June 19. Last night we called Dori and Chad and asked if I could bring the kids back to Arlington and keep them there and leave Donald at home so he could get the AC working (with a little help from the AC guy.)
So we got here about 2:30 today and I've decided to put my 2 precious grandsons on a grandmother (Muddy) schedule. This would be for my sanity. Donald was a huge help this morning by picking up a couple of prescriptions for me and grocery shopping so I wouldn't have to take the kids out if I don't have to. It's 7:00 pm and Cade is sound asleep and Stone asked if he could watch Lion King in his room. It's so much nicer to be in an air conditioned house (Chad, I hope you don't mind that I set it on 70.) Just kidding!
I'll actually be better off here in Arlington alone because I won't run the television so less chaos among the chaos. Cade seems to be very clingy so I'm sure he misses his Mommy. At least they're not old enough to argue like Pearce and Cole do. And Stone is extremely lovable even climbing into my lap which is less independent than he usually is.
Today when I was just getting here and had Cade under one arm, making sure Stone got into the house, some refrigerator and frozen food under the other arm and Stone insisting on doing the latch on the door, then crying because I was just trying to get in the house as my cell phone rang (which was Dori), me hanging up on her somehow [probably with one of Cade's feet] and then when she called back I told her I totally understood the clamor I was hearing on her end of the phone call when I called her, she just laughed! She is going to miss her babies but she is going to love her vacation!
At first we were going to split the week up with Chad's parents, but Chad's Mom had just been here all the way from northern Arkansas to help Dori through an extremely painful kidney stone trauma (we had already been gone about 3 days on a camping trip to the Clinch River in Tennessee) and to take care of Dori's 2 youngest. So as a tradeoff, Donald and I are sitting those 2 youngest.
We started out by meeting halfway in Canton because we were going to keep Stone and Cade at our house. Our air conditioner started acting a little weird and not getting cool enough so even the first half day, Donald and I were not so friendly (heat remember!). Our air conditioner couldn't cool our house below 82 degrees. That was yesterday, Friday, June 19. Last night we called Dori and Chad and asked if I could bring the kids back to Arlington and keep them there and leave Donald at home so he could get the AC working (with a little help from the AC guy.)
So we got here about 2:30 today and I've decided to put my 2 precious grandsons on a grandmother (Muddy) schedule. This would be for my sanity. Donald was a huge help this morning by picking up a couple of prescriptions for me and grocery shopping so I wouldn't have to take the kids out if I don't have to. It's 7:00 pm and Cade is sound asleep and Stone asked if he could watch Lion King in his room. It's so much nicer to be in an air conditioned house (Chad, I hope you don't mind that I set it on 70.) Just kidding!
I'll actually be better off here in Arlington alone because I won't run the television so less chaos among the chaos. Cade seems to be very clingy so I'm sure he misses his Mommy. At least they're not old enough to argue like Pearce and Cole do. And Stone is extremely lovable even climbing into my lap which is less independent than he usually is.
Today when I was just getting here and had Cade under one arm, making sure Stone got into the house, some refrigerator and frozen food under the other arm and Stone insisting on doing the latch on the door, then crying because I was just trying to get in the house as my cell phone rang (which was Dori), me hanging up on her somehow [probably with one of Cade's feet] and then when she called back I told her I totally understood the clamor I was hearing on her end of the phone call when I called her, she just laughed! She is going to miss her babies but she is going to love her vacation!
Clinching
Donald, myself, Vic (my brother) and Barbara (his wife) just completed a camping and fishing trip to the Clinch River in Tennessee. It's listed as one of the 100 best trout streams in the United States so it sounded like a good destination for a camping trip together. Donald and Vic both love to fly fish and Barbara and I love to relax, tour, read, hike and other things that keep you happy.
We all decided to travel a day and camp 2 nights so we had a couple of days at each park to explore before we reached our final destination. Our first campground was Lake Chicot State Park in Lake Village, Arkansas, which is on an oxbow lake and very pretty. I had read that there was a great place to get down home cooking (one of them being in the book Roadfood and website Roadfood.com) called Rhoda's. As we were passing through town and by Rhoda's and I knew exactly the address of the place my first exclamation was "Oh my God!" because I caught a glimpse of it after the fact and I thought nobody I was with would follow me in there. But like troopers, we all went there the next day and had the best soul food in a hovel/shack one could have. My 3 companions all said it was the blind leading the blind. I've had experiences similar to this in my travels by myself but never when I was responsible for 3 other people and their opinions. I felt really good as we all sat around a tiny table and the only white people there with only the words "UM!" coming from our throats.
I think the next night we had steaks that Vic cooked and delicious veggies that Barbara made.
The 3rd night was spent in a state park just minutes away from Huntsville, Alabama, and there is an outside mall there that would blow your socks off only because Huntsville isn't even that big. But we did have dinner at p.f. chang's only about 5 minutes from where we were camping. Talk about a life's journey from only 2 days before.
When we finally reached our destination at Norris Dam State Park where the Clinch River flows, we were glad to be settled for several nights even though our campsites were'nt that ideal. Barbara and I spent a day exploring some historical sites around us and a couple of little towns. On one of the days, the 4 of us took about a 2-hour drive over to Biltmore for about 5 hours of tours and wine-tasting and then 2 hours back. That was a great day!
Donald and Vic didn't have quite as much luck fishing for giant brown trout. I think their buttocks were doing more clinching at the small fish they were catching - maybe that's where the river got its name. They say they had fun though so that's all that counts.
We played lots of cards, grilled outside, laughed a lot, and generally just had a good time.
We all decided to travel a day and camp 2 nights so we had a couple of days at each park to explore before we reached our final destination. Our first campground was Lake Chicot State Park in Lake Village, Arkansas, which is on an oxbow lake and very pretty. I had read that there was a great place to get down home cooking (one of them being in the book Roadfood and website Roadfood.com) called Rhoda's. As we were passing through town and by Rhoda's and I knew exactly the address of the place my first exclamation was "Oh my God!" because I caught a glimpse of it after the fact and I thought nobody I was with would follow me in there. But like troopers, we all went there the next day and had the best soul food in a hovel/shack one could have. My 3 companions all said it was the blind leading the blind. I've had experiences similar to this in my travels by myself but never when I was responsible for 3 other people and their opinions. I felt really good as we all sat around a tiny table and the only white people there with only the words "UM!" coming from our throats.
I think the next night we had steaks that Vic cooked and delicious veggies that Barbara made.
The 3rd night was spent in a state park just minutes away from Huntsville, Alabama, and there is an outside mall there that would blow your socks off only because Huntsville isn't even that big. But we did have dinner at p.f. chang's only about 5 minutes from where we were camping. Talk about a life's journey from only 2 days before.
When we finally reached our destination at Norris Dam State Park where the Clinch River flows, we were glad to be settled for several nights even though our campsites were'nt that ideal. Barbara and I spent a day exploring some historical sites around us and a couple of little towns. On one of the days, the 4 of us took about a 2-hour drive over to Biltmore for about 5 hours of tours and wine-tasting and then 2 hours back. That was a great day!
Donald and Vic didn't have quite as much luck fishing for giant brown trout. I think their buttocks were doing more clinching at the small fish they were catching - maybe that's where the river got its name. They say they had fun though so that's all that counts.
We played lots of cards, grilled outside, laughed a lot, and generally just had a good time.
Monday, April 13, 2009
A Wrinkle in Time
I woke up one morning recently, went in the bathroom, looked at my face in the mirror and saw a different person. Yesterday that wrinkle(s) wasn't there. It reminds me when I turned 30 years old, looked in the rear view mirror of my car and saw my first wrinkle. I can't even remember where it was on my face, if it even existed outside my imagination. When I turned 50, I laughed at my wrinkle scare 20 years earlier and I learned something. No matter how old you get, that new wrinkle made your other wrinkles something you shouldn't even have worried about. I will only begin to grow older when they are ruts on my face. And even then, each new rut will make the last one not such a big deal.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Proud of My Family
Four Generations
Pearce and Cole were eating lunch at our dinner table and my laptop was sitting there as it usually is. The screen saver was going with all my pictures, they were watching and commenting, and one popped up and both boys exclaimed almost simultaneously: Wow, Mommy looks so pretty!
Uplifting Moment
In Walmart, I looked into the greeter's eye as I entered the store. You know the one who stands there tirelessly with a smile on her face and sees hundreds a day go by. I also watched other shoppers entering the store that never took even a first look at her but she still smiled and said hello. I decided to experiment and actually look at her, smile, say hello and keep eye contact until I was past her. She looked happier it seemed. I hoped so.
I was only there for one small item so came back through pretty quickly. This time she made constant eye contact like we had something in common and with a much brighter smile wished me a good day.
I was in there a couple of days later and she was on duty again. This time she stopped talking to the person who was occupying her time, asked me if I was having a great day, and looked really happy to see me. And so, since then, we have had many greetings, never conversations because none are needed. She felt uplifted because, as a customer, I recognized her as a human being and I'm uplifted because I learned how much just a small gesture can make a person feel more appreciated.
I was only there for one small item so came back through pretty quickly. This time she made constant eye contact like we had something in common and with a much brighter smile wished me a good day.
I was in there a couple of days later and she was on duty again. This time she stopped talking to the person who was occupying her time, asked me if I was having a great day, and looked really happy to see me. And so, since then, we have had many greetings, never conversations because none are needed. She felt uplifted because, as a customer, I recognized her as a human being and I'm uplifted because I learned how much just a small gesture can make a person feel more appreciated.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
A Rainy Day
What I do on a rainy day, this being of no particular interest but me. When I was a young girl my rainy days consisted of cutting out recipes from my Nanis' torn-out-of-magazine collection. Then I would carefully glue both the picture and recipe on one page and put it in a notebook. This was the start of my all-consuming passion for cooking.
I would go through the Sears catalog and, having 4 brothers and 2 parents, with a counting system I can't remember, initial the product that each of us would get. Kind of like eeny-meeny-miney-mo. Out of the 7 products, whoever got the best, won. Anal you might say. This was the start of my passion for shopping on the internet.
I read the dictionary cover to cover. We had the kind that used the words in sentences so I also built a little bit of a vocabulary as well, not to mention learning to spell pretty well. This was the start of my passion for reading more interesting things, like fiction.
Flash forward to the present and in the same little house, I might add, I have new rainy day favorites. I now cross stitch for no one in particular, just the things that appeal to me. They might go in a drawer, or if someone likes what I've done, they can take it. I just finished a Christmas stocking for Cade, Dori's son; a ballerina for Claire, Derrick's daughter; and am doing an outside scene with a gold bird landing in a field of wild grass.
I still read fiction voraciously with my taste leaning toward action thrillers, same as my movie taste.
I plan trips on Microsoft Streets and Trips, both camping and bed & breakfasts. This I would say is my greatest passion and most probably comes from my childhood unrainy days. When we took trips to Minnesota, Washington and California with many states between, as we arrived at a gas station, we 5 kids would pile out of the car, into the office, and get a state map apiece (they were free). I proceeded to mark our course as we traveled along the highways (there were no interstates then) which is something I still do to this day. I have an atlas that I mark when I get home and there are road tracings in every state except Alaska of vacations I've been on.
I love rainy days! They are when all my passions crash together.
I would go through the Sears catalog and, having 4 brothers and 2 parents, with a counting system I can't remember, initial the product that each of us would get. Kind of like eeny-meeny-miney-mo. Out of the 7 products, whoever got the best, won. Anal you might say. This was the start of my passion for shopping on the internet.
I read the dictionary cover to cover. We had the kind that used the words in sentences so I also built a little bit of a vocabulary as well, not to mention learning to spell pretty well. This was the start of my passion for reading more interesting things, like fiction.
Flash forward to the present and in the same little house, I might add, I have new rainy day favorites. I now cross stitch for no one in particular, just the things that appeal to me. They might go in a drawer, or if someone likes what I've done, they can take it. I just finished a Christmas stocking for Cade, Dori's son; a ballerina for Claire, Derrick's daughter; and am doing an outside scene with a gold bird landing in a field of wild grass.
I still read fiction voraciously with my taste leaning toward action thrillers, same as my movie taste.
I plan trips on Microsoft Streets and Trips, both camping and bed & breakfasts. This I would say is my greatest passion and most probably comes from my childhood unrainy days. When we took trips to Minnesota, Washington and California with many states between, as we arrived at a gas station, we 5 kids would pile out of the car, into the office, and get a state map apiece (they were free). I proceeded to mark our course as we traveled along the highways (there were no interstates then) which is something I still do to this day. I have an atlas that I mark when I get home and there are road tracings in every state except Alaska of vacations I've been on.
I love rainy days! They are when all my passions crash together.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
She Made Me Eat My Words
When we found out Dori was having our second grandchild, I preached to her, same as when Pearce was born, give them their own name. Don't name them Jr. or the III or just plain Frank, like what Pearce ended up with as a first name. And her Dad, Donald, preached the same thing. Give them individuality - even though we named both Derrick and Dori after Donald, his second name and theirs also. Derrick is Derrick Ray and Dori is Dori Rhea.
So they went about looking for the perfect name as all parents do and they came up with Cole, another really cool name like Pearce. But they couldn't think of a name to go with it, so on the day Cole was born he still did not have a second name.
On the third day of Dori and Cole's stay at the hospital, we went to visit and Dori told us she had signed the birth certificate. They had named him Donald Cole. I immediately gulped and broke out into tears, which in turn did Dori. She was crying because she thought I was upset about giving him just plain Donald as a name and once again naming him after someone. I was so absolutely blown away with love-abiding emotion and honor that the poring of tears was unpreventable and this has become a top 5 joyous moment.
Then this past spring break Pearce and Cole stayed with us for about 4 days and while Cole was here, for some insane reason, he told us he wanted to be called Donald from now on. We'll probably never hear that again because I think he was especially enamored with his Ada (all the guy stuff they were doing) but the joy goes on.
So they went about looking for the perfect name as all parents do and they came up with Cole, another really cool name like Pearce. But they couldn't think of a name to go with it, so on the day Cole was born he still did not have a second name.
On the third day of Dori and Cole's stay at the hospital, we went to visit and Dori told us she had signed the birth certificate. They had named him Donald Cole. I immediately gulped and broke out into tears, which in turn did Dori. She was crying because she thought I was upset about giving him just plain Donald as a name and once again naming him after someone. I was so absolutely blown away with love-abiding emotion and honor that the poring of tears was unpreventable and this has become a top 5 joyous moment.
Then this past spring break Pearce and Cole stayed with us for about 4 days and while Cole was here, for some insane reason, he told us he wanted to be called Donald from now on. We'll probably never hear that again because I think he was especially enamored with his Ada (all the guy stuff they were doing) but the joy goes on.
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Only Way to Go
There is such a variety of vacations people can take and most don't ever experience all they can because they just don't know what's available and just how to go about it.
To clarify, I'm only going to talk about my adult life vacations because my parents took my 4 brothers and I on many since my Dad's families lived in Minnesota, Washington, and California . . . with distant relatives at points in between.
My first perfect vacation is one that I suspect most mothers don't attempt. It was in the late 70s and Derrick and Dori were 12 and 6 respectively. Donald had a job that he thought couldn't live without him for more than a week at a time and I wanted to go see my brother in Washington which was going to take at least 2 weeks. This not counting our stops at landmarks like Mount Rushmore, Custer's last stand, Yellowstone on the way. And then on the way home, I couldn't pass up Las Vegas where Dori could stroll past the swimming pool at Caesar's Palace and pretend a great play (going on only in her mind but fun to watch.) It was Donald's suggestion that we take this trip without him, making him the most non-controlling, trusting husband a woman could want to be married to.
And that started the whole thing. Donald never liked driving for long distances and I was born and bred to wander, since I am from Viking stock. So my journeys have covered all 48 contiguous states many times and Maui.
I've been on perfect vacations where I took my kids, one of their cousins, and Donald's mother. I've been on perfect vacations where I took my parents and my kids. I've been on short vacations with just Dori and I and we've also spent lots of fun weekends in bed and breakfasts together.
And my most perfect vacations have been totally alone. I find that myself is the most interesting person for myself to talk, sing and laugh at. We've had many one-on-one conversations and come out with quite a few answers to many others' problems. I laid on a picnic table at the top of a mountain reading a book for an hour; I sat on a roadside watching children play on haystacks while their Dad pitched the hay into a wagon drawn by a tractor; I have had a glass of wine, eaten my dinner and read my book in a window seat at a restaurant next to a beautiful lake as the sun set; I've climbed a glacier; I laid down by a river in high grass and took a nap in sweet smelling wild flowers with the sun warming my face; I have walked trails that no one else would want to; I've settled for a bag of Cheetos for lunch because I was in the middle of nowhere with only a gas station that sold Cheetos and gas; I've stayed in little Route 66-style motels; I've driven only country roads or highways (the best being without shoulders); I've played games like stopping every 100 miles to take a photo no matter where that might be; and on and on. Alone is great because a companion wouldn't share all the time spent stopping to do nothing at all.
When I'm 100 and bittersweetly thinking about my journeys, the one that will stand out most will be the one where I took 2 weeks to wander driving through the Dakotas, Glacier National Park in Montana, and then picking Donald up at the airport in Bozeman with all of his clothes and flyfishing paraphernalia intact in the trunk of my car. We stayed in a mountain lodge, he fly fished, I read books, then he got back on that plane, flew home and I followed in the car, taking about a week to get home.
To clarify, I'm only going to talk about my adult life vacations because my parents took my 4 brothers and I on many since my Dad's families lived in Minnesota, Washington, and California . . . with distant relatives at points in between.
My first perfect vacation is one that I suspect most mothers don't attempt. It was in the late 70s and Derrick and Dori were 12 and 6 respectively. Donald had a job that he thought couldn't live without him for more than a week at a time and I wanted to go see my brother in Washington which was going to take at least 2 weeks. This not counting our stops at landmarks like Mount Rushmore, Custer's last stand, Yellowstone on the way. And then on the way home, I couldn't pass up Las Vegas where Dori could stroll past the swimming pool at Caesar's Palace and pretend a great play (going on only in her mind but fun to watch.) It was Donald's suggestion that we take this trip without him, making him the most non-controlling, trusting husband a woman could want to be married to.
And that started the whole thing. Donald never liked driving for long distances and I was born and bred to wander, since I am from Viking stock. So my journeys have covered all 48 contiguous states many times and Maui.
I've been on perfect vacations where I took my kids, one of their cousins, and Donald's mother. I've been on perfect vacations where I took my parents and my kids. I've been on short vacations with just Dori and I and we've also spent lots of fun weekends in bed and breakfasts together.
And my most perfect vacations have been totally alone. I find that myself is the most interesting person for myself to talk, sing and laugh at. We've had many one-on-one conversations and come out with quite a few answers to many others' problems. I laid on a picnic table at the top of a mountain reading a book for an hour; I sat on a roadside watching children play on haystacks while their Dad pitched the hay into a wagon drawn by a tractor; I have had a glass of wine, eaten my dinner and read my book in a window seat at a restaurant next to a beautiful lake as the sun set; I've climbed a glacier; I laid down by a river in high grass and took a nap in sweet smelling wild flowers with the sun warming my face; I have walked trails that no one else would want to; I've settled for a bag of Cheetos for lunch because I was in the middle of nowhere with only a gas station that sold Cheetos and gas; I've stayed in little Route 66-style motels; I've driven only country roads or highways (the best being without shoulders); I've played games like stopping every 100 miles to take a photo no matter where that might be; and on and on. Alone is great because a companion wouldn't share all the time spent stopping to do nothing at all.
When I'm 100 and bittersweetly thinking about my journeys, the one that will stand out most will be the one where I took 2 weeks to wander driving through the Dakotas, Glacier National Park in Montana, and then picking Donald up at the airport in Bozeman with all of his clothes and flyfishing paraphernalia intact in the trunk of my car. We stayed in a mountain lodge, he fly fished, I read books, then he got back on that plane, flew home and I followed in the car, taking about a week to get home.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
The Clock Winked
Daylight savings time just began this weekend. I don't get it. Donald and I argue about when it's time to get up and time to go to bed. For me it's like jet lag - if yesterday I went to bed at 10:00 pm and tonight I go to bed at 10:00 (which was only 9:00 pm last night) I can't go to sleep. Same as getting up in the morning - if I usually get up at 5:30 and now my inner alarm wakes me up at 4:30 because I think it's 5:30 isn't it still really early? He immediately adjusts. But here I sit typing out this blog at 10:40 pm when it's only 9:40 and he's sound asleep in the adjacent room in 10:40 time.
And those people in the next campsite who are still raucously having fun think it's only 9:40 pm and they have until 10:00 to be quiet - don't they know it's after 10? Daylight savings time is really confusing for a lot of people. However, I bet the horses, cows, sheep, birds and various other animals don't care what time it is because they are on the schedule set by God. I wonder what a bird who flies from one time zone to another feels - do they get confused by needing to be back to feed their baby birds by 5:00? I think we humans totally confuse our lives by all these rules.
Don't get me wrong, I love it when the day lasts longer into the night. But when you're already an early riser, the day is dark until much later into the morning.
And those people in the next campsite who are still raucously having fun think it's only 9:40 pm and they have until 10:00 to be quiet - don't they know it's after 10? Daylight savings time is really confusing for a lot of people. However, I bet the horses, cows, sheep, birds and various other animals don't care what time it is because they are on the schedule set by God. I wonder what a bird who flies from one time zone to another feels - do they get confused by needing to be back to feed their baby birds by 5:00? I think we humans totally confuse our lives by all these rules.
Don't get me wrong, I love it when the day lasts longer into the night. But when you're already an early riser, the day is dark until much later into the morning.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The Circle of Life
During the career of bringing up my children, while Donald and I were young, working, and climbing the ladder of fame and fortune, we had many house moves. I can only hope it didn't mar Derrick and Dori for life - I know Dori is looking for any small excuse for her self-inflicted, self-named shortcomings. (She has none if you ask me.)
I have 2 favorites and the first is before I was even married. We (my dad, mom, me and 4 brothers) lived in a small frame house in the country. It was probably about 1,000 square feet, had 2 bedrooms, 1 bath and 2 tiny closets. We had a washer for clothes but had to hang them outside to dry. You can imagine the expanse of that clothesline. My mom kept an immaculately clean house; however, I'm almost positive I cultivated a hate for baths at that time (we didn't have a shower in the tub.) Sharing a tub with 4 grimy brothers and my parents just isn't even appetizing thinking about it today. I still to this day take only showers and on the rare occasion I draw bath water I can only spend about 5 minutes there before I start getting an icky feeling (not worth the trouble of gathering all the paraphernalia to have a soothing bath.)
The great move came when my parents decided to build a new 2,500 sq. ft. brick home on the property but a couple of acres away and up on a hill. We moved in right before I was a senior in high school and I thought that was going to up my level of prestige in the Kilgore schools. Apparently, a nice house didn't do it: you had to be a star football player or rich oil kid. I still got a room of my own and a huge closet and I felt like a queen. All of this I enjoyed for about 3 years until I moved away to the big city of Dallas.
Donald and I now live in that little frame house which we have renovated into a beautiful little cottage. The circle of life is pretty amazing. Roar!
My second great move was when we moved back to this little 1,000 square foot house 40 years later. Isn't that a hoot! It is a very peaceful home and we've decorated it in a cottage style. We often have people say if we ever wanted to sell it they would also buy the furniture and decorations. We also have people that knock on the door and ask if it's a bed and breakfast. So we are living a dream and loving it.
I have 2 favorites and the first is before I was even married. We (my dad, mom, me and 4 brothers) lived in a small frame house in the country. It was probably about 1,000 square feet, had 2 bedrooms, 1 bath and 2 tiny closets. We had a washer for clothes but had to hang them outside to dry. You can imagine the expanse of that clothesline. My mom kept an immaculately clean house; however, I'm almost positive I cultivated a hate for baths at that time (we didn't have a shower in the tub.) Sharing a tub with 4 grimy brothers and my parents just isn't even appetizing thinking about it today. I still to this day take only showers and on the rare occasion I draw bath water I can only spend about 5 minutes there before I start getting an icky feeling (not worth the trouble of gathering all the paraphernalia to have a soothing bath.)
The great move came when my parents decided to build a new 2,500 sq. ft. brick home on the property but a couple of acres away and up on a hill. We moved in right before I was a senior in high school and I thought that was going to up my level of prestige in the Kilgore schools. Apparently, a nice house didn't do it: you had to be a star football player or rich oil kid. I still got a room of my own and a huge closet and I felt like a queen. All of this I enjoyed for about 3 years until I moved away to the big city of Dallas.
Donald and I now live in that little frame house which we have renovated into a beautiful little cottage. The circle of life is pretty amazing. Roar!
My second great move was when we moved back to this little 1,000 square foot house 40 years later. Isn't that a hoot! It is a very peaceful home and we've decorated it in a cottage style. We often have people say if we ever wanted to sell it they would also buy the furniture and decorations. We also have people that knock on the door and ask if it's a bed and breakfast. So we are living a dream and loving it.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Swedish Invasion of Occupied Japan
My Dad was 100% Swede, blond, blue-eyed, looked like Alan Ladd, and 3rd generation American. When we were at war with Germany and Japan, he was actively involved as a "spy" pilot in the Army. The first time he saw me was when I was a year old and that was in San Antonio where he was being treated for war fatigue. After we declared war on Japan and won, he reenlisted (after 2 more kids) and was sent to Occupied Japan. His duty time was for several years and so to be a family my Mom and we 3 kids took an ocean liner trip to Japan. We lived there for a little over 3 years and had many adventures. Some of these are memories of a 5-8 year old kid and some are from my younger brother, Chris, who says he remembers but . . .
We moved quite a bit while we were there - you would wonder, since it is such a small country, why we had so many houses. What I do remember is that they were all mansions because we have the photos to prove it. Some of my memories might actually be influenced by these photos. Many of the Japanese who had lived in these houses gave them up to the soldiers who were now protecting them and we lived better than if we were living in the U.S. We had what they called mamasans (housekeepers) and houseboys (they helped the mamasans.) My Mom must have felt in hog heaven.
The first house was 3 stories slanting down a hillside (looking more like a Japanese Frank Lloyd Wright version.) It had 2 levels of yards, the upper being what you would consider a Japanese garden-type rock garden with shaped bushes and different stone statues. The lower portion of the yard was a large grassy area that you took steps down to get there and seemed like several acres. Outside the gate and fence which protected the perimeter of our house was a wide canal that you could only get to the other side by going over a bridge. On the other side were other houses very similar to ours.
The inside of the house was typically Japanese with paper walls and sliding doors (the Swedish invasion poked many holes in those paper walls.) I believe my brother, Victor, was the one most responsible for the holes. After all, he was only almost 2 years old. While we lived there we went through an earthquake where we had to take cover and a typhoon/tidal wave that destroyed anything close to the ocean. Thank goodness, we were far enough inland that it didn't affect us, but we took many pictures of the destruction. I remember at the age of 6 being really scared. My Dad was flying spy missions over North Korea at the time so he wasn't there to protect us. In fact, he spent most of his time in North Korea, so we lived in Japan mostly alone. My Mom was from a small town in East Texas and she must have been very brave and very in love to travel all that distance to be with my Dad.
One of my brothers was born on the Army base while we lived there. I also attended kindergarten and first grade at the Army base. I traveled there by Japanese train (the transportation mode at that time.) I don't remember that we had a car.
My Mom tells a story about being on that train when an enraged Japanese man, still angry at Americans for Hiroshima, went wild. My Mom, blond and beautiful, and we 4 kids, all blond ourselves (we must have looked like something out of the movies), were immediately surrounded by the other Japanese passengers and protected from the man until the police could subdue him.
Our second house was more spectacular than the first. It had such a large yard that there were several pagodas in the yard, surrounded by a moat of water, and you had to cross over a bridge to get into the pagoda. It was quite a fairyland for a young girl of 6 or 7. There were also stone statues placed throughout the grounds. There were many rooms inside of the house that were off-base for us and now I regret not sneaking into some of them. This house was also surrounded by a concrete wall. There was a little door at the back of the house that we kept locked, but when my Mom wanted to take a short cut we would go through that gate and it was like the opposite of "The Secret Garden." We would suddenly be in the midst of Japanese enterprise that you couldn't hear from inside our concrete world. It was in this house that my brother, Chris, swears my Mom and I would sneak out to the movies after she thought the 3 younger kids were asleep. Chris couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 and I have to give him credit for a really good memory and a grudge held for a long time - he didn't get to go. But I say that's the privilege granted for being the oldest.
My Mom took me to the Japanese ballet a couple of times which is very different from what most people in the U.S. are familiar with because they didn't dance on their toes. The stage scenes were very colorful, flamboyant, and surreal. The dancers' costumes were so colorful and glittery and they fought on stage so there was a lot of activity. It was all spoken in Japanese but that didn't matter because it was very exciting.
We had several picnics on a lake at the base of Mt. Fuji and I remember paddling some kind of boat on the lake, probably a canoe of some sort. It is a memory of a lifetime and whether it's through real thoughts or manufactured ones from photos, it was magical. It might explain my current passion for travel and adventure.
We moved quite a bit while we were there - you would wonder, since it is such a small country, why we had so many houses. What I do remember is that they were all mansions because we have the photos to prove it. Some of my memories might actually be influenced by these photos. Many of the Japanese who had lived in these houses gave them up to the soldiers who were now protecting them and we lived better than if we were living in the U.S. We had what they called mamasans (housekeepers) and houseboys (they helped the mamasans.) My Mom must have felt in hog heaven.
The first house was 3 stories slanting down a hillside (looking more like a Japanese Frank Lloyd Wright version.) It had 2 levels of yards, the upper being what you would consider a Japanese garden-type rock garden with shaped bushes and different stone statues. The lower portion of the yard was a large grassy area that you took steps down to get there and seemed like several acres. Outside the gate and fence which protected the perimeter of our house was a wide canal that you could only get to the other side by going over a bridge. On the other side were other houses very similar to ours.
The inside of the house was typically Japanese with paper walls and sliding doors (the Swedish invasion poked many holes in those paper walls.) I believe my brother, Victor, was the one most responsible for the holes. After all, he was only almost 2 years old. While we lived there we went through an earthquake where we had to take cover and a typhoon/tidal wave that destroyed anything close to the ocean. Thank goodness, we were far enough inland that it didn't affect us, but we took many pictures of the destruction. I remember at the age of 6 being really scared. My Dad was flying spy missions over North Korea at the time so he wasn't there to protect us. In fact, he spent most of his time in North Korea, so we lived in Japan mostly alone. My Mom was from a small town in East Texas and she must have been very brave and very in love to travel all that distance to be with my Dad.
One of my brothers was born on the Army base while we lived there. I also attended kindergarten and first grade at the Army base. I traveled there by Japanese train (the transportation mode at that time.) I don't remember that we had a car.
My Mom tells a story about being on that train when an enraged Japanese man, still angry at Americans for Hiroshima, went wild. My Mom, blond and beautiful, and we 4 kids, all blond ourselves (we must have looked like something out of the movies), were immediately surrounded by the other Japanese passengers and protected from the man until the police could subdue him.
Our second house was more spectacular than the first. It had such a large yard that there were several pagodas in the yard, surrounded by a moat of water, and you had to cross over a bridge to get into the pagoda. It was quite a fairyland for a young girl of 6 or 7. There were also stone statues placed throughout the grounds. There were many rooms inside of the house that were off-base for us and now I regret not sneaking into some of them. This house was also surrounded by a concrete wall. There was a little door at the back of the house that we kept locked, but when my Mom wanted to take a short cut we would go through that gate and it was like the opposite of "The Secret Garden." We would suddenly be in the midst of Japanese enterprise that you couldn't hear from inside our concrete world. It was in this house that my brother, Chris, swears my Mom and I would sneak out to the movies after she thought the 3 younger kids were asleep. Chris couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 and I have to give him credit for a really good memory and a grudge held for a long time - he didn't get to go. But I say that's the privilege granted for being the oldest.
My Mom took me to the Japanese ballet a couple of times which is very different from what most people in the U.S. are familiar with because they didn't dance on their toes. The stage scenes were very colorful, flamboyant, and surreal. The dancers' costumes were so colorful and glittery and they fought on stage so there was a lot of activity. It was all spoken in Japanese but that didn't matter because it was very exciting.
We had several picnics on a lake at the base of Mt. Fuji and I remember paddling some kind of boat on the lake, probably a canoe of some sort. It is a memory of a lifetime and whether it's through real thoughts or manufactured ones from photos, it was magical. It might explain my current passion for travel and adventure.
The Best Garage Sale I've Never Been To
I have a new birdhouse. I've collected them over the years and as they sat outside they've aged, faded or just fallen apart. So I don't have as many as I used to. But I have one now that will be cherished inside never to see the light of day. It's hung in the doorway between my dining room and kitchen and it's special because my oldest grandson, Pearce, gave it to me for Christmas.
It's not a store-bought birdhouse nor is it homemade. Pearce's Dad took him to a garage sale and Pearce, using his own money, shopped very carefully for his Mom and me and then presented each of our presents in gift bags. When I look at that birdhouse, it makes me feel warm, comfortable, loved and gives me good thoughts.
His Mom had a truly emotional reaction when she opened her carefully chosen gift from the garage sale - it was a unicorn. She hasn't collected unicorns in some time, but I'll bet this unicorn will never be tucked away in a drawer. That is, until Pearce gets old enough to beg her to "let it go, Mom". You see, she had the exact same unicorn when she was a child and couldn't believe what the chances were of getting that very one from Pearce (so carefully chosen). He is only 10 but he listens and observes well and I believe he must have been so satisfied with his discoveries and then giving them.
It's not a store-bought birdhouse nor is it homemade. Pearce's Dad took him to a garage sale and Pearce, using his own money, shopped very carefully for his Mom and me and then presented each of our presents in gift bags. When I look at that birdhouse, it makes me feel warm, comfortable, loved and gives me good thoughts.
His Mom had a truly emotional reaction when she opened her carefully chosen gift from the garage sale - it was a unicorn. She hasn't collected unicorns in some time, but I'll bet this unicorn will never be tucked away in a drawer. That is, until Pearce gets old enough to beg her to "let it go, Mom". You see, she had the exact same unicorn when she was a child and couldn't believe what the chances were of getting that very one from Pearce (so carefully chosen). He is only 10 but he listens and observes well and I believe he must have been so satisfied with his discoveries and then giving them.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Waiting in Quiet Desperation
This weekend was Dori's birthday weekend and she, Chad, and their 4 boys came to our house to celebrate. They arrived Friday night, Dori's actual birthday, and since they got here pretty late, decided to wait and open presents and eat birthday cake until Saturday. This was so the boys could participate and Dori's Grandmommy was also coming over.
Saturday started out mild enough but soon grew into a monster of a day for everyone in many different presentations. Chad and Dad stayed home with the children, while I took Dori to my doctor's weekend clinic. She had developed a pain in her back that was so severe she couldn't talk. We all mostly decided it was kidney stones so we were just going for the pain medication and diagnosis, just to make sure it wasn't something life-threatening. When the doctor finally saw her after 2 hours of waiting, she promptly sent us to the emergency room and called them to let us know they were coming.
However, when we got there, as you hear so many times they treat patients in pain first, we were still put on a waiting list. They did see her before many of the other patients who had already been there though.
Before I talk about Dori, the main character, Chad and Dad were waiting at home, while taking care of 4 boys, to hear from us. Their day must have been agonizing. I tried to keep them posted, but when there's no news, what do you call and say?
In the meantime, Dori was in such pain she couldn't function - walk, talk, stand, sit, lie down, nothing made the pain dissipate. Sometimes she could not even communicate and it seemed she was not aware of her surroundings. She said later that if there was a scale to 20 that's where she was. Six hours later she finally got relief with pain medication, passed a kidney stone and found out she still has several in each kidney.
She was over the worst part and was now purely exhausted. While I, who had been waiting in quiet desperation, was not over it yet. I, although not suffering real pain, suffered a mother's anguish where you pray to God that he would transfer that pain to your body. Today's Monday and I still can't stop thinking about the raw look of Dori's face during her trauma.
But it also makes me think of something else. My mother is 86 and I hope she lives to be 100, but even then, when she's not here anymore, I will have lost that one person who would take that pain for me. This weekend made me realize I will miss it sorely.
Saturday started out mild enough but soon grew into a monster of a day for everyone in many different presentations. Chad and Dad stayed home with the children, while I took Dori to my doctor's weekend clinic. She had developed a pain in her back that was so severe she couldn't talk. We all mostly decided it was kidney stones so we were just going for the pain medication and diagnosis, just to make sure it wasn't something life-threatening. When the doctor finally saw her after 2 hours of waiting, she promptly sent us to the emergency room and called them to let us know they were coming.
However, when we got there, as you hear so many times they treat patients in pain first, we were still put on a waiting list. They did see her before many of the other patients who had already been there though.
Before I talk about Dori, the main character, Chad and Dad were waiting at home, while taking care of 4 boys, to hear from us. Their day must have been agonizing. I tried to keep them posted, but when there's no news, what do you call and say?
In the meantime, Dori was in such pain she couldn't function - walk, talk, stand, sit, lie down, nothing made the pain dissipate. Sometimes she could not even communicate and it seemed she was not aware of her surroundings. She said later that if there was a scale to 20 that's where she was. Six hours later she finally got relief with pain medication, passed a kidney stone and found out she still has several in each kidney.
She was over the worst part and was now purely exhausted. While I, who had been waiting in quiet desperation, was not over it yet. I, although not suffering real pain, suffered a mother's anguish where you pray to God that he would transfer that pain to your body. Today's Monday and I still can't stop thinking about the raw look of Dori's face during her trauma.
But it also makes me think of something else. My mother is 86 and I hope she lives to be 100, but even then, when she's not here anymore, I will have lost that one person who would take that pain for me. This weekend made me realize I will miss it sorely.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Memories from Under the Semi-Full Christmas Tree
Anyone my age with children and grandchildren will relate to anything I write about this and will most likely have opinions of their own. Your children will be defensive, of course.
This was our "off" year for Christmas, meaning it was the "on" year for the in-laws (that is, going to the in-laws house sometime during the Christmas holidays.) Thus, it was our year to visit our children if we wanted to see them instead of just mailing the packages. We're not old enough yet to let Christmas go by without somehow seeing them.
Our daughter hasn't sworn off coming home during the month of December as close to Christmas as she can because she is very nostalgic and we live on land that has been in my family for a couple of hundred years. She hasn't lived 200 years, but she is melancholy for the almost 36 years she has been coming to this spot. This year it just couldn't be worked out, so we made our trek to Arlington to stay a couple of nights on the weekend before Christmas. We packed up all the presents and Dori and Chad's stockings (given in secret when the boys were in bed) and it was like having Christmas morning on that Saturday sans Santa. We had a great day and we were able to see the kids enjoy their gifts. Our tree back home was now only half-full because we hadn't yet had Christmas giving with Derrick.
On Friday before leaving, I was eating chips and felt a slight pain in my back left tooth. By the end of Saturday it was beginning to throb and at 3:15 am Sunday morning I drove myself to the emergency room telling Donald he needed to stay and get some sleep so he could drive home the next day. I got back to the room at 5:30 am and he hadn't been asleep. We headed over to Dori's and during the night Pearce had developed a full fledged sinus infection and my tooth still needed fixing, so our trip was cut short.
We headed home on the 21st and I had a dental visit where he informed me I had a cracked tooth on the 23rd, my Nyvall family Christmas on the 25th, Donald left on our 44th anniversary on the 28th for Kansas to pheasant hunt, had a root canal on the 30th, fitted for a crown on the 31st, went to a New Year's Eve party - all of this on pain killers (thank God!) And still felt guilty for not spending more time at Dori's.
Then we headed for Bastrop for our "off" Christmas with Derrick and his family on January 2 and had a really fun time there also. My tooth didn't hurt any more, our daughter-in-law actually ate wild game two nights in a row (pheasant on the first night and venison on the second.) Our grandson in Bastrop ended up with a sinus infection and his Mama had to take him to the doctor on Sunday. He spent most of his time while we were there in bed feeling really bad (he's 4 so you know how bad he felt.)
All of this was within a 1-week period. And now under the tree is empty. We are camping in Blanco State Park for 4 days just to recuperate from the "off" year and already making plans for the "on" year. And this is the kicker - that's if our kids stay the course. But we won't know anything until some time in December 2009. That's okay, though, because no matter what we'll still see them and our tree will be Full because it's our "on" year.
This was our "off" year for Christmas, meaning it was the "on" year for the in-laws (that is, going to the in-laws house sometime during the Christmas holidays.) Thus, it was our year to visit our children if we wanted to see them instead of just mailing the packages. We're not old enough yet to let Christmas go by without somehow seeing them.
Our daughter hasn't sworn off coming home during the month of December as close to Christmas as she can because she is very nostalgic and we live on land that has been in my family for a couple of hundred years. She hasn't lived 200 years, but she is melancholy for the almost 36 years she has been coming to this spot. This year it just couldn't be worked out, so we made our trek to Arlington to stay a couple of nights on the weekend before Christmas. We packed up all the presents and Dori and Chad's stockings (given in secret when the boys were in bed) and it was like having Christmas morning on that Saturday sans Santa. We had a great day and we were able to see the kids enjoy their gifts. Our tree back home was now only half-full because we hadn't yet had Christmas giving with Derrick.
On Friday before leaving, I was eating chips and felt a slight pain in my back left tooth. By the end of Saturday it was beginning to throb and at 3:15 am Sunday morning I drove myself to the emergency room telling Donald he needed to stay and get some sleep so he could drive home the next day. I got back to the room at 5:30 am and he hadn't been asleep. We headed over to Dori's and during the night Pearce had developed a full fledged sinus infection and my tooth still needed fixing, so our trip was cut short.
We headed home on the 21st and I had a dental visit where he informed me I had a cracked tooth on the 23rd, my Nyvall family Christmas on the 25th, Donald left on our 44th anniversary on the 28th for Kansas to pheasant hunt, had a root canal on the 30th, fitted for a crown on the 31st, went to a New Year's Eve party - all of this on pain killers (thank God!) And still felt guilty for not spending more time at Dori's.
Then we headed for Bastrop for our "off" Christmas with Derrick and his family on January 2 and had a really fun time there also. My tooth didn't hurt any more, our daughter-in-law actually ate wild game two nights in a row (pheasant on the first night and venison on the second.) Our grandson in Bastrop ended up with a sinus infection and his Mama had to take him to the doctor on Sunday. He spent most of his time while we were there in bed feeling really bad (he's 4 so you know how bad he felt.)
All of this was within a 1-week period. And now under the tree is empty. We are camping in Blanco State Park for 4 days just to recuperate from the "off" year and already making plans for the "on" year. And this is the kicker - that's if our kids stay the course. But we won't know anything until some time in December 2009. That's okay, though, because no matter what we'll still see them and our tree will be Full because it's our "on" year.
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