Another Weekend And It's Hot!

Well the family is here and what groceries I had are gone, so it was to the city today and grocery shopping. Fmom wanted to go, and I think that’s a good thing; it gets her out of the house. Of course when we got to the grocery store, she stayed in the car while I’m shopping. I’ve told her I’m happy to have her with me, but if I were her, I would be bored silly just sitting in the car. I guess when you get to be her age and you can’t move around that well, just getting out every now and then is good.

My nephew got his learner’s permit this week. He sounds like he’s going to be a good driver. We asked him did his parents let him drive down here and he said nope, he didn’t want to. Both his parents are pretty level headed, and I think they’re teaching him right. I keep telling him for his first car, don’t let his parents push any old used car on him. Demand; yes demand a new car with everything. His parents aren't too happy with me about telling him that. His Mom said it was their way or no way, so I think he’ll be happy with anything he gets.

I guess my brother’s class reunion is going pretty good. He was by yesterday afternoon and didn’t even mention how good the yard looks. Next class reunion he has, he can do the yard.

My brother also bought us a lot of peaches this weekend. My s-I-l was busy making a peach cobbler, so I guess we’ll have that along with whatever I decided to cook. I also made up cherry and blueberry cream cheese pies. I’m hoping these will keep everyone’s sweet tooth in check for awhile.

Well it’s off to get the rest of the groceries put away and to start dinner. I hope everyone’s weekend is going well and that the heat isn’t getting you ya.

Class Reunion and Lawn.

My youngest brother is attending his class reunion this weekend. I’m not sure which year it is, but I think it’s his 27’th. For me it would be a 37 year reunion. Since some of his old classmates will be driving by the house, he was a little up in the air about the lawn looking good. As you all know I could care less about the lawn, but I did get it mowed. I had to hire someone to do the weed eating and a general clean up of the yard. If my brother still lived here, I would have told him to have at the yard, but he lives over two hours away and works everyday, so I decided to cut him some slack.

The one good thing is I didn’t have to weed eat down by the pond. I hear the snakes are saying they just can’t scare the rest of the residents around here like they do me. Hah!

Hope everyone has been doing fine and thanks for your thoughts earlier.

The Belt Buckle

Well the s**t has hit the fan. Some of you might remember when I wrote about my grandmother’s wedding band and how I gave it to my niece (sister’s daughter) and how Fmom also gave her a ring that meant a lot to her - The Pick Part II. When Fmom had given her the ring she told me she was sure there would be hell to pay from the rest of my siblings.

My brother his family and my sister and her family went to the beach for vacation this week. My niece was wearing both rings and my s-I-l commented about them. Of course my sister went through the entire story about how I got our grandmothers ring, and how Fmom gave my niece her ring. While driving back home my niece calls Fmom and tells her, “Granny I thought I’d better call and tell you to get ready.” She tells her that everything was fine until my brother heard about my grandmother’s ring. My brother says, “Hell I’ve been trying to get daddy’s belt buckle for years and still haven’t gotten that.”

So now Fmom is up in the air, and I’m thinking it’s hilarious. I just took Fmom and we looked through everything she has. We finally found my father’s belt buckle. The only reason my brother didn’t get it before is because Fmom couldn’t find it. Fmom talked to my sister, and my sister told her to tell my brother that she had given it to her a long time ago, and forgot to tell him. Fmom broke out laughing and said no that she didn’t want to give him a heart attack.

It’s a good thing though. Over the years Fmom has kept so much stuff and just going through the boxes and her cedar chest bought back good memories to her. She would pick up one thing and give me the history of each. She found my youngest brother’s first baseball uniform and it was so small. She would hold up little pieces of jewelry and tell me which great aunt it had belonged to, and how she came to have it. We found a Saint Christopher medal that a girl I had loved in college gave to me. In the boxes in her closet and bounty in her cedar chest she has more than just junk. She has a family history and her life. She hasn’t gone through this stuff in awhile, but I could see she was happy just looking for an old belt buckle.

The Violin.

Fmom got a letter from her cousin today and in it were two pictures. The pictures show a violin and bow that hangs on a wall.

I feel sorry for Fmom sometimes because she never knew her mother. Her mother died during childbirth, and Fmom only knew her through what her aunts, uncles and grandparents told her. When Fmom was a child my grandfather had a job that took him all over the U.S. and down into South America. He wasn’t able to take Fmom with him, so her aunts and uncles on my grandfather’s side raised her. She ended up being raised mostly by GAN. My grandfather and grandmother had set up a house as couples do, but when she died, all of Fmom relatives came in and started taking stuff to keep for Fmom for once she grew up. Needless to say Fmom never saw any of this stuff. GAN was able to get a few things for Fmom, but really not much. My grandfather eventually remarried and he and his wife had a daughter. I guess on the wicked step mother scale, Miss P. was up there. Growing up we never called her grandmother, only Miss P. She was always nice to me, but you could always tell there was an icy distance between her and Fmom. When my grandfather died, Miss P. and her daughter were adamant about Fmom not getting hardly anything that was my grandfathers. Fmom didn’t try to fight it, and I’m glad she didn’t.

Fmom just found out last year where the violin had gone. It appears her mother had loaned it to her cousin when she had started taking violin lessons. Over the years the cousin had kept it and then had given it to her granddaughter. The granddaughter had it refurbished and it hangs now on her wall. Although I know Fmom would love to have it, she told her cousin that no she didn’t want it back, but she would love to have a picture of it.

So today Fmom got a letter with two pictures in it. Two pictures of the violin and bow that had belonged to her mother. She was calling all of us in the house to come and look at the pictures of her mother’s violin. You could tell she was proud to have the pictures, but also that she really would have loved to have something that had belonged to her mother. I told Fmom I know how much it would have meant to her to have it, but that I think she did the right thing to just ask for pictures, and that to me it showed class.

The Levee.

When I was growing up in Arkansas, the Mississippi River was fairly close to where I lived, which was about 40 miles Southwest of Memphis, Tennessee. About a mile behind my house there was a long lake that had been formed by the New Madrid Earthquake of 1811-12. It used to be a part of the Mississippi River before the earthquake. Throughout this area where I lived there were levees. A lot of these levees were built in response to The Great Mississippi Flood of 1927. By our house there was a three story building that was used as a store while we lived there. As with a lot of buildings in that area it was build up on stilts. My great uncle told me that he could just see the top of the bricks on the chimney during the flood. That had to be around 35-40 feet. So my point of that little side trip was to show how much the levees were needed. What most people don’t realize is that you can rent parts of the surrounding levees. Most farmers in that area have long term leases for any levee near their land.

Fdad rented a part of the levee that was adjacent to our farm. It was no more than a mile from the back of our house, and Fdad would use it for the cattle we had to graze on. Our part of the levee was two tiered. Half way down, it was built out enough to allow a truck to drive on it and on the top was a graveled road that ran the entire length of the levee. But my father also liked to enjoy himself, so our part of the levee was used for picnics with family and friends too. We would go down to the levee and in a stand of trees by the lake, my father would start the barbecuing, my mother would be looking after my youngest brother and we kids would run to the top of the levee with our flattened out cardboard boxes. This was our summer sledding time. Once the grass had started to dry some, you could take your cardboard box and fly down the side of the levee. For some reason we never had enough cardboard boxes for all the kids that wanted to slide. So once you slide down to the bottom, there would always be kids yelling at the top to hurry back up because it was their turn. Around this time Fdad also had a homemade pontoon boat docked by where we had our picnics. It was a bunch of 55-gallon drums strapped together with a platform built on top of those and railing on the perimeter of the platform. I forget what horsepower it was, but I remember we had an Evinrude outboard motor attached to the back, and Fdad had fixed it so that in the back right of the platform was a steering wheel and power handle for the motor. So there was everything from barbecuing to sliding down the levee to taking a ride on the lake to fishing. Fdad and Fmom had a lot of friends around there, so we always had a big group when we went to picnic at the levee.

I wasn’t going this way with this story, but I got to realizing that both Fmom and Fdad were a good bit younger than I am now. Fdad had already gone through WWII, and Fmom had already been the mother to five children. The sixth, my youngest brother would be on the way in a few years. I can look back now and think to myself hell they were kids. I guess the funny thing is that now that I’m older, it feels like I’m looking back and seeing my parents in their youth. Of course while this was happening, just as any child would see, they were bigger than life and pretty old. I guess I haven’t thought of it that much, but looking back at how much fun our family and friends had at the levee, I sort of wish at my age now, I could have become friends with my parents and their friends. I think it would have been a blast to get to know a young family like that. That young family also had a big plus on it’s side. It had me as a kid (obvious snark - :)).

Cherish What You Have.

My favorite Uncle was considered a little crazy by the rest of the family. He was one of these people who were so intelligent, that sometimes you don’t know how to deal with them. He was a fighter pilot during WWII and I have a picture of him from back during then. He was a college grad who had his teaching credentials, and was one of my teachers for awhile in our little grammar school. When I was growing up he and my aunt, my father’s sister had been trying to have children. They didn’t have a child for a long time, and since there was an overabundance of kids in my house, they became my surrogate parents. I spent many hours with them once I got old enough to walk the mile and a half to their house. Both he and my Aunt never showed anything to me but kindness and love. My Uncle taught me how to drive.

I was ten years old and he had an old Ford Falcon. It was a standard shift with four on the column. For those not old enough to know what four on the column is, just imagine you’re shifting gears with a stick coming our from the steering wheel column. It’s the classic H pattern. Pulling back and up is reverse, back and down is first, forward and up is second, and forward and down is third.

We lived on the farm way back in the country, and we had a gravel road going in front of our house. It was perfectly straight and about 4 miles long. My uncles would patiently sit in the passenger side and put me through the motions of learning to shift the gears while learning that there was a clutch also. Up and down this gravel road we’d go, with the car looking like it was coughing itself to death. The man had patience because I’m not a fast learner. I finally mastered how to smoothly start off in first gear and then transition to second and third. By third gear I was Master of the Universe. Keeping the car on the road and dogging potholes, I felt like my world was opening up. I was going faster than a walk and it was under my control. It was mechanical and I didn’t have to put any effort into walking or peddling. For you that know me, this was slacking at its zenith. Oh how I loved my Uncle for introducing me to this most perfect form of slacking.

After I had mastered the driving to his satisfaction, I would always pester him to let me drive by myself. If he were busy doing something, I would ask him to let me take the car for a ride up and down the road. More times than not, he would let me. Now I had an older brother that anytime he could drive a car, he acted like he was at Daytona. Me on the other hand, took things slowly. I didn’t have to feel like I was going a hundred miles an hour. I only had to feel that I was sitting on my butt and moving someplace. The Slacker’s Code again. Anyway, my Uncle had taught me well, and I followed all his rules for driving. I never got over 35 mph and if another car was coming toward me I pulled over to the side of the road until it passed. Remember I lived waaaaayyyyy back in the country on a gravel road and there weren’t that many cars that came through there. So letting a ten-year-old take the car back in the early Sixties wasn’t that big of a deal. It was a rite of passage back then to be trusted to drive a couple of miles up and down the road. My Uncle gave that to me and to this day I remember and love him for that.

When you get older you start looking back at all the family you’ve lost. My Uncle died when I was thirteen and that effected me greatly. He had what was called a bad heart back then. Today he could have probably had surgery and lived a long life. I really loved him and my Aunt, who was also my favorite Aunt. As I said before, they were my surrogate parents. When you have a lot of brothers and sisters you feel left out sometimes. Middle child syndrome I think. My Uncle and Aunt both gave me something I desperately needed at that time. A feeling of being special and knowing that they always had time for me. It’s funny that I miss them more now than when I was younger. Cherish what you have now, because time is so short.

George and the Nephew.

It’s the middle of the night and it’s finally quiet around here. My Brother, s-I-l and 3 y.o. Great nephew arrived yesterday and it’s as it should be - quiet. I’ll give it about two more hours and my nephew will be up and running all over the house and George will be chasing him barking all the time. For some reason my Brother and s-I-l don’t see anything wrong with telling him to go wake up Uncle FM and play with him. Of course the first time he pounds on the door, I’m up because George is barking. So if things work the way they usually do, George and I will come out of my bedroom, I’ll turn on the TV in the den and then fix some coffee. After that the Nephew, George and me will sit on the couch and watch TV. I’ll doze off for a few minutes and the Nephew will shake my arm saying I’m not watching. I’ll say, I am too watching. From then on we’ll be watching each other more than the TV to see who will fall asleep first. I always loose on that one. After the second or third time my nephew will just give up on me and he’ll talk to George. George is my one saving grace in this game. If my nephew gets bored and gets up to starting getting into stuff, George will start barking and I’ll come awake. I’ve been half sleep before, and I’ve heard the Nephew tell George to be quiet while he gets down off the couch. George never lets me down though. So before the nephew gets a foot on the floor, George barks and I’m awake.

I guess I’ll see how today will go, but I know I’ll be very tired by the end of the day.

Calling Home.

Well Fmom was pretty angry last night. She had been trying to call my brother that had the by-pass surgery, but couldn’t get him on his cell phone. That went on for a couple of days until he finally called last night. She was very happy to hear from him, but she tore into him about not calling. She didn’t leave anybody out either. Luckily his wife or children weren’t on the phone, but she tore into him about they could at least call to let her know how he’s doing.

My brother does this from time to time and I keep telling Fmom not to worry and that we’ll hear from them soon. She just won’t accept that though. She’s always been this way with all my brothers and sisters. I’m sure I’ve told this story before, but to bring home the point of the consequences you face if you don’t call Fmom……

When I joined the military years ago, I was stationed out in California. I didn’t call home for a month. One day while at work, I get a call from my commander’s office and was told to report to him immediately. On the way there I kept thinking what have I done? I couldn’t think of anything that I had done wrong, so I was worried. I get there and he told me he had gotten a call from my sister asking him if I would call home. Immediately I’m worried something has happened at home and ask the commander. He said no, but my mother wanted to hear from me. I’m embarrassed about the whole thing, but he was good-natured about it. However, he did say don’t let it happen again.

Years later after I retired, I was living by myself and I hadn’t called for about a week. My landlady drove over to my house and told me to call home. She was good-natured about it too, and since she was just a little younger than Fmom, she gave me a good talking to about calling home. So I call home, and Fmom told me if she couldn’t have gotten my landlady she was on the verge of calling the police. Now that would have been embarrassing to have the police show up to say call home.

So the point is, that all of us children know that we had better call Fmom at least once a day. Otherwise there’s consequences to pay.

The Pick, Part II

My niece came by yesterday and I gave her, her Great Grandmothers wedding band. She didn’t know she was getting it and the look of total surprise was nice to see. She got my talk about tradition, and hoping one day she would pass it down to my grandniece, her daughter. I also gave her something I typed up awhile back. It was a story I called My Sister’s Ring. Of course the story had changes in it because I don’t refer to my mother as Fmom around the house, but essentially it was the same. After my niece got through reading the story, Fmom took off her finger the exact ring I was talking about in the story and told my niece that she wanted her to have it. This surprised me because I didn’t know Fmom was going to do this, and I know how much Fmom cherishes that ring and the memories it brings back of my sister. During all the surprises I think my niece came to see a part of me that she didn’t know existed. Usually when she’s around we wise crack at each other and nothing is too serious. But I think she saw what the family and traditions mean to me.

Last night my niece called Fmom and they talked for about two hours. I myself don’t see how anyone can stay on a phone that long, but some do. When they finished I asked Fmom what my niece said. She said just a normal talk, but that my niece must have told her 500 times to thank me for the ring during the conservation. I know she was also thanking Fmom for my sister’s ring.

I don’t know, but maybe I did make an impression on my niece about tradition. She told Fmom that she would be wearing the wedding band along with her wedding band from now on, and that her daughter would know and one day would receive this ring.

Of course we don’t know how the future will go, but I hope that with each new generation this ring will continue to mean to them, now what I know it means to my niece and me.

Still at the house.

I was supposed to go to the hospital for treatments of my migraines today, but I had to reschedule for the second time. The first was rescheduled because Fmom thought everyone was coming here for Mother’s Day and wanted to see if it could be pushed back to another day. Well Mother’s Day fell through because she wasn’t feeling well. So I rescheduled the first and now I cancelled again because she’s still not feeling well. I think it’s nothing more than a summer cold, but I would rather not have her being pushed to go up there if she is feeling bad. She would be staying with my youngest brother, but still not feeling well and a two-hour trip just might make her feel worse.

Ten minutes after I cancelled Fmom was saying call them tomorrow and tell them we’ll be up there. I’m telling her I’ve already cancelled twice, and to call the next day and say “forget what I said yesterday,” isn’t a good thing. So I’ll call later this week and see what they say.

I think out of this, George is the lucky one. He would be boarded at the vets right now if I had gone, but at the moment, he’s still stretched out on the bed and sound asleep.

I’ll see how Fmom feels today, and tomorrow and if she’s feeling better, then I’ll call again to set things up. With my luck, by that time, I’ll have a summer cold. Oh the mystery of stepping into a new day and seeing what’s going to happen. We’ll see.

Hope everyone has a good day.

The Pick.

I took Fmom to an appointment yesterday and it was one of our usual rides while reminiscing about the old times. She had told me of when my grandmother had gotten to the point to where she knew she couldn’t live alone by herself anymore, that she wanted to start giving to her children things that she knew they would want. In our family when a direct relative passes away, from their personal things there is what we call a pick. My aunts and my mother were bought together and each took their turn to pick what they wanted from my Grandmother and Grandfather’s life. My Grandmother did this so that she would know that each of her daughters and my father’s family would be treated fairly and there would be no arguments or bad feeling about anything. This was done and it was a few years later that she did pass away. There was another pick after her passing, and then the grandchildren were bought in to pick something they would like to have.

FMom surprised me yesterday when she told me that of all the Aunts, herself, my brothers/sister and cousins, that I had gotten the best pick of everyone. I asked her what she meant and she explained. We grandchildren were bought into an upstairs bedroom where the things we were to pick from were. When my turn came, there was a small box of assorted jewelry that I thought I would just grab something and that would be that. I looked in it and moved some stuff around and saw a small thin gold ring. I took that and went back by my sister and looked at it. I started looking on the inside and saw an inscription. It was very hard to read but I finally saw that it was my Grandmother’s wedding band. I told everybody what it was and I started saying it was too much and was going to put it back, but my sister standing by me dug her heel into my foot and I almost yelled out. I went on to say how surprised and proud I was to have it. I don’t know how my Aunts let the ring get by them and trust me everyone in the room was very surprised.

I’ve always found it distasteful to see some families that go to war over things that belongs to loved ones that passed away. Some families are torn apart and other weather the passing and splitting of things very well. The thing that got me to writing this diary is deciding onto whom I would pass my Grandmother’s wedding band to. I hate to say it, but neither one of my daughters ever knew her, nor do I think they would appreciate it as much as others would. I have five nieces and the only one that knew my grandmother, and I know would appreciate it, I’ve decided to give it to. She’s my sister’s daughter and she already has a two-year-old daughter.

You’ve all heard me preach on how much family traditions mean to me, and I can assure you that when I give the ring to my niece I’ll be preaching them to her too. So many times just a little thing that’s passed down the generations will bring a family closer together, and I’m hoping that my niece and someday my grand-niece will cherish the ring and the traditions as much as I do. I also hope that it will keep being passed down so that no matter what generation has it, they'll know who it belonged to and maybe want to know a little bit more about her and about their heritage.

Getting a Date.

As I was saying earlier, my Aunt O turned 100 recently. There was a big to do at the local church she helped build. In the handout they give you every Sunday at church to tell you the schedule of events for the day, there was also included a paper about Aunt O. On the front it had her picture with her all dressed up and smiling and on the back it had her history. I already knew a lot of the facts and some I didn’t. When I got down to the end there was a little story about Aunt O.

It’s seems there was a local radio station running a contest for the oldest listener to call in. Her grand daughter called in and got everything going and Aunt O won a coffee mug from the station. Aunt O is still sharp as a tack and her only comment was “My grand daughter told them my real age. How am I going to get dates now.”

Aunt O is in a nursing home and has been for a little while now. She gets around with a walker, but she’s still spry. There’s no doubt she wants to go back to her own home, but I know the nursing home is probably the best place for her.

I got to thinking is Aunt O one of the lucky one? To live that long and have so many come into your life. I think yes and no. I can’t say I know what it’s like to yearn to go back to a home you and your spouse built and raised children in. A home where the church you helped build is 50 yards away and the place you worked until you had to retire is across the street. The place is less than a hamlet. Just some houses off a curvy road and a few building by a railroad track that used to be stores. She saw this place when it was prosperous, vibrant and oh so many family and friends around. Now it’s a shell and it’s a place she wants to be, but she can’t.

I don’t know if Aunt O is lucky. I know there are many people who think about her and love her, but lucky, I don’t know. I can always remember her saying about where she’s at now, “Oh honey, all these people in here are crazy except for me.”

Here’s to you Aunt O. I’m half your age and I wished I had half of the spunk you’ve got.

Getting The House Ready.

We’ve got my Great Aunt O’s B’day this weekend. All the brothers and sister will be converging here. My brother that had the by-pass surgery is supposed to be here today. He talked to his doctor and his doctor said it was fine to take the trip. I sort of think that after the trip he’ll be so worn out that he’ll be in bed most of the time. Fmom’s asthma has been acting up a good bit, and I’ve been running back and forth getting her nebulizer and things ready for her. I have a feeling this weekend might be less celebrating and more taking care of people. We’ll see though.

I’ve finally decided I’ve got to win the lottery. This constant running back and forth and cleaning and re-cleaning is tiring me out. I figure to be able to slack and become comfortable to the life I could easily become accustomed to, I’ve got to buy that ticket. Only problem is to buy the ticket is over a three and a half-hour drive. So if anyone happens to buy a ticket and wins, feel free to send along to me. I’ll certainly put it to good use, oh and I’ll send you some flowers for your troubles.

Hope everyone’s day is going good. Now back to cleaning.

100 And Still Chugging Along.

Well this month is one of celebration for the family. My great Aunt O will turn 100 on the 22nd. Although she uses a walker to get around, her mind is still as clear as ever. I keep hoping that my mind is as clear next year as hers in after 100 years. We’re supposed to have a big gathering for her B’day and I’m hoping she will have a very good time. However, as most of you know, a big gathering for my family is almost a common place thing. I always love to see everyone, but sometimes I look forward to just the quiet and slackerly days. Who am I kidding, I always look forward to the slackerly days. 

I haven’t posted in a couple of days because I’ve felt very tired and have a major lack of energy. I think it has something to do with my quitting taking the Effexor that was prescribed for my migraines. I decided that it wasn’t helping with the migraines and it made me feel so devoid of caring about doing anything, that it was time to stop it. I found that the stopping isn’t that easy and the lack of energy is a side effect of the stopping. I’ll be glad when I’m done with the whole thing. I’ve got to get a lot of stuff done that I’ve put off during this time. It seems a little bit overwhelming right now, but if I keep putting it off, it will become too overwhelming.

I’ve decided on the spot I’ll take the pictures for the pond series and also that I’ll post a Pond Picture Diary (PPD) once a week. I’ll take pictures during the week and pick out the best ones for that diary. The PPD will be a work in progress, so if anyone has any suggestions please feel free and post them.

Well it’s time to get some stuff done around here. I hope everyone is doing fine and you have a good week ahead.

Brother Update.

My brother was supposed to get out of the hospital today, but it appears he’ll be staying for awhile longer. Yesterday when my s-I-l was out of the room for a minute he went over the rails on his bed and tried to get his catheter out and last night he pulled some type of wires out so he’s going back to surgery this morning. My brother can be a difficult person to begin with, but it seems he’s being especially difficult after this by-pass. My s-I-l wants to get him to my nephew’s house and she says she will be better able to take care of him, but at this point I don’t know. I had forgotten all the things that you go through with by-pass surgery. When I had my by-pass surgery I was out of the hospital in four days, but that was just the beginning. As I said before, when I had my by-pass surgery I didn’t know what was going on. From about forty-five minutes after I reached the ER to about 2 days before I was discharged I don’t remember anything. I’m sure that’s what is going on with my brother now, plus like I said, he’s difficult even when he’s feeling good. The nurses and doctor said it’s nothing to worry about and they’ve seen this many times before.

Fmom is at the beauty shop to get her hair done so we can go out there. From the length of time, I think they’re doing a major overhaul on her. Since he’ll be in the hospital longer, that has pushed back the trip a little more. Actually I’m now looking forward to the trip so she can see him and stop worrying. As many times as we’ve been out there I should know the route by heart, but the last trip showed me I don’t. I got lost going up there and coming back. This time I’ll be using the maps and make sure I don’t get lost.

Things around the house are chugging along. I’m looking out at my lawn and see it has to be cut again, but not today. I wish I could share some of this warmth and green with everybody, but don’t loose hope; yours will be coming soon. By the time yours gets there, I will have already been whining about the oppressive heat and humidity. The price you pay for living down here I guess.

I hope everyone’s day is good today and your week turns out great. Remember slack when possible.

Dive Bombing and Growing Older.

I was looking through some of the old pictures yesterday and I found this one.

Click to enlarge

I’m on the left and my older brother is on the right. I think this picture is over fifty years old now, but from what you can see it shows an extremely cute little Family Man and his older brother. I'm holding our dog from back then, but for the life of me I can't remember it. Notice the cowboy hats and boots. My father always wore a cowboy hat and boots. From a young age he got us these and my older brother took to the boots, but not the hat. I never took to them though. Even at that age I was a slacker. I ran around barefoot so much I felt like the boots were too heavy to wear and I’ve never liked hats.

This picture was taken at the first house I remember. It was out in Arkansas on the Mississippi Delta. Our main road was a dirt and gravel road and we had cotton and soy bean fields on both sides of the house. There was a big pasture out back with trees and cows. It’s mostly flat land out there and you could see forever, it used to seem to me. I was remembering around the time that this picture was taken one of the most fun things that my brother and I would do. It had to do with my Uncle.

My Uncle during WWII was a fighter pilot off of a carrier in the Pacific. Once he came back home to Alabama he and my Aunt decided to move out to Arkansas where we were. He started a crop dusting service and he would dust the fields adjacent to our house. Whenever he started to dust my brother would run outside and start waving at him. This was our signal that it was time to play dive-bombing. We would run out into the cotton field and my uncle would act like he was dive bombing us with the plane. He would come so low I could see his face and him waving at us. We would run as fast as we could and at the last moment we would hit the dirt and hide under the cotton plants. Out of a lot of things I don’t remember when I was that age, this is one I’ve never forgotten. As usual Fmom would come out and make us come in and at that age I didn’t understand why. It seemed like we were all having fun and my Uncle was always smiling when he went by. Later I realized he was probably burning a good bit of gas doing this, and he was trying to make a living. He told me later on that he had as much fun as we did.

I’m glad Fmom had saved these old pictures and I had scanned them in the computer. My memory has never been that good and looking at the old pictures helps give it a jump-start on some good memories. If we’re lucky enough, we get to become older. We may lose the energy and the world of wonders isn’t as large as it used to be, but that’s all right. There are so many things that I get to see from the youngest generation in my family. From the youngest baby to the ones in high school, I get to see in and through their eyes the joy of youth. I guess that’s just part of growing older and I really do welcome it.

I hope everyone has a good day and good week ahead.

Variation On Fmom Reminiscing.

I drove Fmom out to the family cemetery a couple of days ago and listened to her reminisce. This time she told me of before she and Fdad were dating and during the dating.

First she told me about one day she was riding to town with a friend and as they passed my Grandparents house, she told her friend that one day she was going to marry the boy that lived in that house. She didn’t mention if she had met Fdad before that, but she said she was sure that she would marry him one day. So I start kidding around with her and telling her she had her claws in him from the beginning. Needless to say, she wasn’t too impressed with my kidding.

Second she told me of during their dating. They started dating when they were teenagers and Fmom said that she came up to ride horses every weekend with Fdad and friends. She said on this weekend that they had been out riding when the bridle broke and her horse started running. They were coming back to a neighbor’s field when the neighbor saw them and opened the gate to one of his pastures. Fmom said that’s the last thing she wanted because the horse would keep running. So she said Fdad was yelling for her to take her feet out of the stirrups and to jump. She said that she kept looking for some sand or soft spot where she could jump. She finally found it, jumped and went rolling. The biggest thing she remembered was that Great Aunt N (GAN) had just bought her a new winter coat and when she landed in the red dirt that’s predominate around here, her new coat was badly stained. She said GAN kept asking her what they did to get the coat stained so badly, but Fmom didn’t tell her she had to jump off a horse. She said that if she had told GAN, that she was positive she wouldn’t be allowed to come back to ride horses. The stain never came out and she never told GAN what happened.

Fmom and Fdad eventually got married and had six children, of which I’m lucky enough to be one. I’ve now been back home for four years after being gone for more than thirty years. There’s a lot of stuff that I missed being gone, and that’s one reason when Fmom starts reminiscing that I listen so intently. As a kid and young adult I always considered myself to busy to stop and listen to her or Fdad talking about their early years. That’s why I think I’m so lucky now to have come home and have time to spend with Fmom and listen to her stories. Now if I could only get her to talk into my microcassette recorder and tell the stories, it would save me a lot of time in trying to remember all the details. She won’t do it though, and I’ll just have to be satisfied with trying to remember.

Water and Laundry Detergent

I went to put some clothes in the washer and picked up the bottle of liquid detergent I use. I just had relatives here that washed a lot of clothes. Usually these relatives use up everything and never replace. So when I go and pick up the detergent bottle, I’m surprised. It’s full! I’m thinking that’s nice they bought some more. I begin to pour and nothing but water comes out. Not even enough residue to make a few bubbles. ARRRGGGGG!

Now I’ve gotten used to going to the store to replace everything they’ve used, but why even go to the trouble of refilling an empty bottle. Would I not notice, would I just pour without looking? I haven’t figured this one out yet.

While I’m on a rant, this same relative feels it her duty to re-arrange the kitchen every time she’s here. Not that she does anything in the kitchen, but things aren’t where she wants them. Just in case she decides to cook, she wants to know where everything is. So after they leave it will take me a couple of days to find everything and put it back to where I know where everything is. Last time it took me two week to find my cutting board.

She has told me before men just don’t know how to cook or clean. Since I do 99.9999% of that in this house, I’m usually at a loss of words for her. I just keep my mouth shut and agree. I figure if I let my feeling be known it would upset my Mom and that’s the last thing I would ever want to do.

Plus lights, the common light switch. They’ll turn on every light in the house and then I guess its too much trouble to go back to the light switch to turn them off.

OK that’s my rant for today. I’m fixin (southern saying) to get ready for my two-hour trip to Birmingham for the doctor’s appointment again. Hopefully, just hopefully everything will go right today.