I spent 25 days at my mother's house this past May. She is 82 and lives by herself, well not really by herself as she has a boat load of cats to keep her company. I went to help take care of things while she was in the hospital having surgery and afterwards. I didn't realize how long 25 days can be, especially when two grown women share the same house and they are mother and daughter.
Two years had gone by since my last visit home, and then I didn't stay with my mom, I stayed with my brother. It probably has been more than 40 years since I've slept at my parents house. So this was going to be a challenge for me. Why is it when you are under your parents roof, you revert back to being the child? There I was playing the role of the dutiful daughter. “Would you like me to do anything for you?” “Can I get you something to eat?” “Do you need anything from the store?” I was also fulfilling requests she made. “Can you make me a cup of coffee?” “Can you carry this for me?” “Can you vacuum the rug?” Vacuum the rug…that’s when it all changed.
Here’s how it went down. As I went to get the vacuum, my mom began giving instructions. “I plug it in over here.” “I put the cord on this side of the coffee table.” “Ok,” I said. As I was vacuuming, she continued to watch me and make comments. “Make sure you pick up the area rug and vacuum underneath.” “Use this brush to brush along the edges of the furniture.” “When the canister gets full, you’ll need to empty it in this bag and make sure you clean out the filter.” I was immediately transported back in time to when I was about 12 and Mom and I were cleaning the house on Saturdays. She would give me instructions on what to do and how to do it, which is ok when you’re 12 (even though I secretly hated it at the time). But wait!! I was a grown up now. I was also a mother for almost 40 years. Can my mom really tell me what to do now?? So I stopped vacuuming and said, “Mom, I’m 59 years old. I think I know how to vacuum a rug.” She finally walked away to do something else and the comments stopped. I felt a small victory had taken place and my 12 year old self had finally been avenged!!
After that, I found myself frequently shifting between the roles of mother and daughter. Here are some of the ways I “tried” to mother my mother.
“Mom, you stay up too late. You need to go to bed earlier. At your age you need your rest.”
“Mom, you get up too late. You shouldn’t stay up to watch late night reruns of Two and a Half Men and Everybody Loves Raymond. This is not good for you.”
“Mom, you shouldn’t eat breakfast at 11:30. You need to have more regular meal times. Eating breakfast late messes up lunch and dinner times.”
“Mom, you shouldn’t be eating that. You know it will upset your stomach.”
“Mom, you have too many cats to take care of. It would be easier on you if you got rid of some of them.”
“Mom, you need to watch how you spend your money. You know you’re on a fixed income.”
And just how did Mom respond to my mothering? Just like any teenager would, she either ignored me or gave me one word answers!! “Yeah, yeah.” or “So?” were the ones she used most often.
When the 25 days were over, we were still mother and daughter in good standing. Who was I kidding? It was going to take a lot longer than 25 days to change my mother’s way of doing things and alter her views on how she should live her life. Maybe if I had a little more time, another week, maybe another 25 days, perhaps then she would have seen it my way. Somehow I doubt it.
~ P
Friday, June 11, 2010
Thursday, April 29, 2010
My Top Ten
Here are the top ten lessons I’ve learned from watching my cats.
Number Ten:
Sometimes it’s better to say nothing.
The look on your face will say it all.
Number Nine:
Be picky about what you eat.
Number Eight:
Number Seven:
Number Five:
If you’re going to consume calories,
they might as well taste good.
Number Eight:
Make sure you get enough sleep –
8 hours are good, 10 are better, but 12 is way too much and might label you a slacker.
8 hours are good, 10 are better, but 12 is way too much and might label you a slacker.
Good grooming is imperative. Bad hair day are NOT something you want to have.
Number Six:
If something frightens you, run first, ask
questions later. There’s no shame in
being called a scaredy cat. Own it!
questions later. There’s no shame in
being called a scaredy cat. Own it!
If you do something stupid, you might as well laugh at yourself. Others will.
Number Four:
Pick your battles.
You're not gonna win every fight.
Number Three:
The road of life will get bumpy. Just hang on!
Your faith in God will get you through.
Your faith in God will get you through.
Number Two:
If you’re curious, investigate.
I use Google, Bing and Ask.com.
And the Number One lesson
I’ve learned from watching my cats is:
Cover up your mess so other people
won’t have to look at it.
won’t have to look at it.
A special thanks to Funnycatpix.com for these wonderful pictures of our feline friends.
And thank you Lucky, Halle, Petey, Puss Puss, Spencer, Tracy, Rusty, Blackie, and Stinker, my precious cats past and present.
You have taught me well!
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thanks for the memories . . .
This will be the last installment of memories about my school days. I’ve been putting off writing this as I’m almost ashamed by how much I don’t remember. I guess it was all the drugs I was on that affected my memory. LOL, no but it sure seems like it. If you’re bored or didn’t know me back then, you can stop reading now.
Here’s what I remember about my Newfield High School days:
I remember meeting Don Neidhart in our sophomore year. We were assigned the same homeroom because our last names were alphabetically close, his started with N, mine O. It was the first week of school and the teacher was having us fill out some papers that we had to turn back in. Don sat in front of me and turned around to ask me a question. That was how we met. I remember sometime later he asked me out on a date. We double-dated at the Smithtown Drive-In with his brother Richie and his girlfriend, Chris Motto (also from our class).
I remember Don was on the wrestling team and I would go to watch his matches. His mom would go too. She liked to get as close to the mat as allowed to cheer him on. She’d yell something like, “Go Donald” or “Get ‘im Donald.” She became almost an icon at each match. Newsday captured her perfectly and published the picture of her yelling, the ref checking for a pin, and Don going for the win over his opponent. I can see the commercial now. . . wrestling shoes $40, kneepads $20, a picture of your mom cheering you on as you pin your opponent…priceless. I hope Don still has this picture from the newspaper.
I remember lunches in the cafeteria. I would usually buy the school lunch. There was one cook, not sure of her name, who was Italian and made the best spaghetti sauce ever. It was always crowed on the lunchroom line on spaghetti days. I would buy extra Italian bread on those days…boy that was some good eating.
I was pretty much a goody two shoes in school. There was one or two times I remember cutting through the senior courtyard (oooo, bad bad Patty!!). And once, only once I let Don talk me into cutting school. I couldn’t enjoy the day because I was constantly looking over my shoulder for the truant officer, so I never did it again. I remember going to a party (who’s ???) where there was beer and though I didn’t drink any, some was spilled on my skirt and I prayed my mom wouldn’t smell it on me. I don’t think she did.
I remember being excited about being a senior. In fact, someone from the Quadrangle staff (unbeknownst to me at the time) asked me how I felt about coming back to school. My response, along with the responses of lots of other kids, was published in the first issue of the newspaper. My reply was something to the effect of “I’ve been looking forward to coming back for my senior year all summer.” And that was the truth.
I joined the Quadrangle staff that year. Don was the sports editor so it seemed like the thing to do. I had my own column. I would get all the newspapers the Quadrangle received from other schools and would report on the interesting happenings that were going on there. Not Pulitzer worthy, but I enjoyed it.
I also took part in our Senior Production. The theme of it was a takeoff on the hit TV show Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In. The back of the stage was set up with a wall that had several small window-sized doors in it. Just like the show, someone would open one of the doors and tell a joke, then close it, then someone else would do the same, and so on. Sometimes it was a two part joke, like a knock knock joke, and two people would participate. I remember Joann Salmeri took on the roll of Joann Worley from the TV show and would laugh in a funny yuck yuck way. She was so good at it too!
I remember going to the meeting to brainstorm on ideas for the show. I wrote a commercial and the teacher liked it. Me and Marc Cappobianco did the audition and got the parts. It went something like this:
[Patty enters stage right, holding both hands on the side
of her head]
PATTY: Marc, can you get me the Excedrin? I have an
awful headache.
[Marc enters stage right, struggling to get the lid off a
large school-size mayo jar with a green Excedrin
label on it]
MARC: I can’t get the lid off.
[Patty waits patiently as Marc continues to struggle
with the lid]
[Patty becomes impatient and grabs the bottle from
Marc and starts to hit Marc with the bottle]
PATTY: Marc, can’t you do anything? I need my Excedrin!
[Patty and Marc exit stage right as Patty continues to hit
Marc with the bottle]
The dialogue is not verbatim, but it’s close. We got laughs from the audience, but looking back at it now I’m not pleased that I was portraying a wife who abused her husband LOL. I kept that Excedrin label for a long time in a little memento box I had. I finally threw it away several years ago when I got ready to sell my house. I remember we closed the show with the song Bob Hope used to sing at the end of his show, “Thanks for the Memories.” Of course, we changed all the words to suit our senior class. I think the first line went something like, “Thanks for the memories of football afternoons and sunny days of rest…” Does anybody else remember more?
I remember getting my senior ring and being proud to be a part of the Class of 1969. I remember senior prom, going with Don, the beautiful dress my mom made for me (I still remember those awful fittings), and the beach party the next day. I remember standing in line at graduation and hearing Pomp and Circumstance as we all walked in. Every time I hear that music it brings back my own graduation memories and I get a little teary-eyed. I remember the significance of moving my tassel from one side of my cap to the other…high school days are over, there’s a whole other world out there.
And was there ever. . .
Here’s what I remember about my Newfield High School days:
I remember meeting Don Neidhart in our sophomore year. We were assigned the same homeroom because our last names were alphabetically close, his started with N, mine O. It was the first week of school and the teacher was having us fill out some papers that we had to turn back in. Don sat in front of me and turned around to ask me a question. That was how we met. I remember sometime later he asked me out on a date. We double-dated at the Smithtown Drive-In with his brother Richie and his girlfriend, Chris Motto (also from our class).
I remember Don was on the wrestling team and I would go to watch his matches. His mom would go too. She liked to get as close to the mat as allowed to cheer him on. She’d yell something like, “Go Donald” or “Get ‘im Donald.” She became almost an icon at each match. Newsday captured her perfectly and published the picture of her yelling, the ref checking for a pin, and Don going for the win over his opponent. I can see the commercial now. . . wrestling shoes $40, kneepads $20, a picture of your mom cheering you on as you pin your opponent…priceless. I hope Don still has this picture from the newspaper.
I remember lunches in the cafeteria. I would usually buy the school lunch. There was one cook, not sure of her name, who was Italian and made the best spaghetti sauce ever. It was always crowed on the lunchroom line on spaghetti days. I would buy extra Italian bread on those days…boy that was some good eating.
I was pretty much a goody two shoes in school. There was one or two times I remember cutting through the senior courtyard (oooo, bad bad Patty!!). And once, only once I let Don talk me into cutting school. I couldn’t enjoy the day because I was constantly looking over my shoulder for the truant officer, so I never did it again. I remember going to a party (who’s ???) where there was beer and though I didn’t drink any, some was spilled on my skirt and I prayed my mom wouldn’t smell it on me. I don’t think she did.
I remember being excited about being a senior. In fact, someone from the Quadrangle staff (unbeknownst to me at the time) asked me how I felt about coming back to school. My response, along with the responses of lots of other kids, was published in the first issue of the newspaper. My reply was something to the effect of “I’ve been looking forward to coming back for my senior year all summer.” And that was the truth.
I joined the Quadrangle staff that year. Don was the sports editor so it seemed like the thing to do. I had my own column. I would get all the newspapers the Quadrangle received from other schools and would report on the interesting happenings that were going on there. Not Pulitzer worthy, but I enjoyed it.
I also took part in our Senior Production. The theme of it was a takeoff on the hit TV show Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In. The back of the stage was set up with a wall that had several small window-sized doors in it. Just like the show, someone would open one of the doors and tell a joke, then close it, then someone else would do the same, and so on. Sometimes it was a two part joke, like a knock knock joke, and two people would participate. I remember Joann Salmeri took on the roll of Joann Worley from the TV show and would laugh in a funny yuck yuck way. She was so good at it too!
I remember going to the meeting to brainstorm on ideas for the show. I wrote a commercial and the teacher liked it. Me and Marc Cappobianco did the audition and got the parts. It went something like this:
Excedrin Headache #69
[Patty enters stage right, holding both hands on the side
of her head]
PATTY: Marc, can you get me the Excedrin? I have an
awful headache.
[Marc enters stage right, struggling to get the lid off a
large school-size mayo jar with a green Excedrin
label on it]
MARC: I can’t get the lid off.
[Patty waits patiently as Marc continues to struggle
with the lid]
[Patty becomes impatient and grabs the bottle from
Marc and starts to hit Marc with the bottle]
PATTY: Marc, can’t you do anything? I need my Excedrin!
[Patty and Marc exit stage right as Patty continues to hit
Marc with the bottle]
The dialogue is not verbatim, but it’s close. We got laughs from the audience, but looking back at it now I’m not pleased that I was portraying a wife who abused her husband LOL. I kept that Excedrin label for a long time in a little memento box I had. I finally threw it away several years ago when I got ready to sell my house. I remember we closed the show with the song Bob Hope used to sing at the end of his show, “Thanks for the Memories.” Of course, we changed all the words to suit our senior class. I think the first line went something like, “Thanks for the memories of football afternoons and sunny days of rest…” Does anybody else remember more?
I remember getting my senior ring and being proud to be a part of the Class of 1969. I remember senior prom, going with Don, the beautiful dress my mom made for me (I still remember those awful fittings), and the beach party the next day. I remember standing in line at graduation and hearing Pomp and Circumstance as we all walked in. Every time I hear that music it brings back my own graduation memories and I get a little teary-eyed. I remember the significance of moving my tassel from one side of my cap to the other…high school days are over, there’s a whole other world out there.
And was there ever. . .
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Lucky's Story
I thought it only fitting since I wrote Halle’s story that I tell you how Lucky came to be a part of our family. It’s a simple story really; he was “the chosen one.”
First, I have to tell you about our “first born” Petey. He was a 6 month old male cat that came to our door on a cold night in January, 1999. I found out about a month after we took him in that he had wandered away from the home of Jon Eller, someone I actually knew from work. Jon lived about 2 miles from me and told me I could keep the cat if I wanted. Darn right I was keeping him, I just paid to have him fixed!
Now fast forward to June of 2004. Petey had been moping around, constantly lying beside the sliding glass door looking out to the backyard. We thought he was watching for a neighborhood cat that periodically made visits. Our human nature interpreted this as he was lonely for other cat companionship. That’s what we pet lovers do, we apply human characteristics to our pets. What? You’ve never watched the Dog Whisperer?
Anyway, a few days later Rick happened to be at the home of Dan Yonikus talking to him about refinishing some furniture. Rick noticed a boat load of cats in various stages of growth hanging around Dan’s garage-turned-storage-shed-for-all-his-antique-furniture in the back of the house. Rick asked Dan what he was doing with all those cats. Dan’s reply was simply, “You want one?” Rick pointed to a little 7-week old, long-haired, orange and cream colored ball of fur and said, “Yes, I want THAT one.” Dan told Rick that the cats were wild (they didn’t have much human interaction except at feeding time) and that he would have to catch the one Rick wanted. He said he would call him when he caught it. A few days later, Dan called and Rick went to pick up the kitten, but Dan had caught the wrong one. Oh, it was similar, but not the RIGHT one, not the one Rick had picked out. Dan said he would try again. The next time Dan called, he got it right.
We picked up the kitten after church on Sunday, June 13. When Dan said the cats were wild, he wasn’t kidding. This little ball of fur bit Rick on the finger when he tried to pet it. We decided to put the cat in our second bathroom to give it time to get accustomed to the surroundings. You couldn’t touch the little thing. It would swat at you with its tiny but deadly claws. I got the idea to use an old backscratcher that we had as a tool to offer food to the kitten. The backscratcher was in the shape of a cupped hand and had a long handle. I put the food in the cupped hand and slowly presented it to the kitten. It worked. He accepted food this way. Then I got another bright idea. As I was sitting on a small wooden stool talking softly to the cat, I decided to “meow.” Yes, I said, “meow.” I was pretending to be a cat to see if I could coax the little guy out from behind the toilet. “Meow, meow, meow,” I said softly. I saw the kitten peak around the corner of the cabinet and then come towards the sound. I kept at it, “Meow, meow, meow.” The kitten was now at my feet. “Meow, meow.” Then all of a sudden it jumped into my lap, layed down, and started to purr. I had him at “Meow!”
Rick and I discussed what to name him. Rick didn’t like any of the names I picked…too girlie he said. I had a cat named Rusty when I was young, that name would have fit because of Lucky’s coloring, but Rick liked the name Lucky because he was lucky Rick picked him out of all those cats and saved him. A few months later Dan did take all the cats to the shelter. So Lucky was very lucky indeed.
Lucky was introduced to Petey after being in the house a few days, but Petey really didn’t want to be bothered. I guess he tolerated Lucky but sometimes Lucky brought out the kitten in Petey. That was always fun to watch. Petey and Lucky played together for the next 8 months. Then on a cold day in February Petey went to kitty heaven. A sad day for me.
There are a lot of sides to Lucky’s personality. He’s smart and seems to understand me when I say certain words or phrases. He likes when you talk baby talk to him. When you do, he rolls over on his back and looks up at you. And he’s taken over the job of my alarm clock. I’ve read, “There is no snooze button on a cat who wants breakfast.” That statement definitely defines Lucky
He’s also likes adventure. One time I left the cabinet door in the kitchen slide out open and Lucky got in and disappeared in the underbelly of the RV for several hours until he decided to come out. Now he remembers he’s been down there and will meow at the door wanting to get back in. But I don’t let him because I don’t know what he can get into down there.
Another time he escaped from the car when we were visiting Barb Bergstrand. He avoided capture for about 20 agonizing minutes, but was eventually cornered in her barn. Now I am very careful when I move him from house to car.
But Lucky can also be a scaredy cat. He runs for the hills whenever he hears the crinkle noise of aluminum foil. He’ll even run if he just sees the box because he knows what’s coming next…the dreaded crinkle noise!! And if I turn on the vacuum or the hair dryer when he’s around, he will slink down and quickly leave the room while keeping his eyes on the “monster” until he is in the clear.
So that’s Lucky’s story in a nut shell. He’s a cat with a sweet disposition, beautiful face, inquisitive nature, affectionate when he wants something, and can be fearless or fearful depending on the moment. I consider myself to be fortunate to be his owner partner because, as you know, no one ever really owns a cat.
If you want up-to-the-minute information on what is going on with Lucky and Halle, please visit my Facebook profile page and click on the “Catbook” tab. You will see pictures of them, can leave them a comment, and see what groups they’ve joined. My cats are now in cyberspace!!
First, I have to tell you about our “first born” Petey. He was a 6 month old male cat that came to our door on a cold night in January, 1999. I found out about a month after we took him in that he had wandered away from the home of Jon Eller, someone I actually knew from work. Jon lived about 2 miles from me and told me I could keep the cat if I wanted. Darn right I was keeping him, I just paid to have him fixed!
Now fast forward to June of 2004. Petey had been moping around, constantly lying beside the sliding glass door looking out to the backyard. We thought he was watching for a neighborhood cat that periodically made visits. Our human nature interpreted this as he was lonely for other cat companionship. That’s what we pet lovers do, we apply human characteristics to our pets. What? You’ve never watched the Dog Whisperer?
Anyway, a few days later Rick happened to be at the home of Dan Yonikus talking to him about refinishing some furniture. Rick noticed a boat load of cats in various stages of growth hanging around Dan’s garage-turned-storage-shed-for-all-his-antique-furniture in the back of the house. Rick asked Dan what he was doing with all those cats. Dan’s reply was simply, “You want one?” Rick pointed to a little 7-week old, long-haired, orange and cream colored ball of fur and said, “Yes, I want THAT one.” Dan told Rick that the cats were wild (they didn’t have much human interaction except at feeding time) and that he would have to catch the one Rick wanted. He said he would call him when he caught it. A few days later, Dan called and Rick went to pick up the kitten, but Dan had caught the wrong one. Oh, it was similar, but not the RIGHT one, not the one Rick had picked out. Dan said he would try again. The next time Dan called, he got it right.
Rick and I discussed what to name him. Rick didn’t like any of the names I picked…too girlie he said. I had a cat named Rusty when I was young, that name would have fit because of Lucky’s coloring, but Rick liked the name Lucky because he was lucky Rick picked him out of all those cats and saved him. A few months later Dan did take all the cats to the shelter. So Lucky was very lucky indeed.
Lucky was introduced to Petey after being in the house a few days, but Petey really didn’t want to be bothered. I guess he tolerated Lucky but sometimes Lucky brought out the kitten in Petey. That was always fun to watch. Petey and Lucky played together for the next 8 months. Then on a cold day in February Petey went to kitty heaven. A sad day for me.
There are a lot of sides to Lucky’s personality. He’s smart and seems to understand me when I say certain words or phrases. He likes when you talk baby talk to him. When you do, he rolls over on his back and looks up at you. And he’s taken over the job of my alarm clock. I’ve read, “There is no snooze button on a cat who wants breakfast.” That statement definitely defines Lucky
He’s also likes adventure. One time I left the cabinet door in the kitchen slide out open and Lucky got in and disappeared in the underbelly of the RV for several hours until he decided to come out. Now he remembers he’s been down there and will meow at the door wanting to get back in. But I don’t let him because I don’t know what he can get into down there.
Another time he escaped from the car when we were visiting Barb Bergstrand. He avoided capture for about 20 agonizing minutes, but was eventually cornered in her barn. Now I am very careful when I move him from house to car.
But Lucky can also be a scaredy cat. He runs for the hills whenever he hears the crinkle noise of aluminum foil. He’ll even run if he just sees the box because he knows what’s coming next…the dreaded crinkle noise!! And if I turn on the vacuum or the hair dryer when he’s around, he will slink down and quickly leave the room while keeping his eyes on the “monster” until he is in the clear.
If you want up-to-the-minute information on what is going on with Lucky and Halle, please visit my Facebook profile page and click on the “Catbook” tab. You will see pictures of them, can leave them a comment, and see what groups they’ve joined. My cats are now in cyberspace!!
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Keeper
This post was inspired by an email I received recently. It was simply titled “Keeper.” I thought it was good and I forwarded it on to the keepers in my life. The email spoke of times gone by where we cared for things we loved, fixed them when they broke and didn’t throw them away until they were completely used up. It also mentioned people we keep in our lives because they are worth it, “like a best friend that moved away, or a classmate we grew up with.” This statement immediately brought to mind my husband Rick. He is a keeper of people. It’s one of the things I admire about him.
Anyone who knows Rick knows he loves to talk. This is his preferred method of communication, whether it be by phone or face to face. However, since discovering the internet, construction job chat rooms, and Facebook, he has expanded his modus operandi, but not by much.
The way Rick draws people out is by asking them questions, and twenty never seems to be enough. It can go on and on until he is satisfied or runs out of things to ask about. He’s a good listener too and doesn’t interrupt when you’re speaking. He is truly interested and learns a lot just by listening to what people have to say.
Rick keeps in touch with all kinds of people from high school friends, to people he’s worked with, to friends from church, and just about anyone else who’s crossed his path somewhere along the way. When we get ready to move from a place, he makes sure he gets telephone numbers from everyone he connected with. Then he’ll call them at some point to see how they are doing. Some people he speaks to weekly, others monthly, and some will only get an annual phone call so he can catch up on what’s going on with them.
Rick also stays in touch with the Fullers and Flatts (Rick likes to say his mother was a Flatt until she became a Fuller, hehe). He will regularly call aunts and uncles to find out how they are, who’s sick or having surgery, what’s going on with his cousins, etc. This is something his Dad used to do, and since his Dad passed away, Rick has taken up the torch.
And Rick doesn’t just talk to people he knows, he’ll talk to anyone who’s standing close enough to hear him speak. Here is a recent example that is so typically Rick. Last weekend we went to a buffet restaurant to celebrate Rick getting a job. The line was very long to get in. As we stood there waiting with about 100 other people, Rick started up a conversation with an older couple and their family in front of us. After an hour in line (it was a really good buffet), the couple finally reached the cashier. Just before they left to be taken to their table, the woman hands me a piece of paper with their names and telephone number on it and tells me if we are ever in town again, to please call them. Wow!! That was a first!!
After we had gone through the buffet line and returned to our table, Rick points and says, “See that guy over there?”
“What guy?” I say as I look in the direction he’s pointing.
“The guy in the red shirt.”
Spotting a red shirted man I reply, “What about him?”
“He works at the steel mill for Halliburton making $24 an hour as a pipe fitter.”
“Where do you know him from?”
“I met him on the buffet line just now.”
“Is there anyone you won’t talk to?”
“No,” he replies with a grin.
Rick never meets a stranger. His likeable nature, his quick smile, his inquisitive mind with seemingly endless questions, along with his desire to listen makes it easy for people to talk to him and sometimes even share the most intimate details of their life; like the forty-something year old lady in the tire store last Friday who told Rick how her boyfriend of 20 years cheated on her, how she dumped him and then later was set up on a blind date with a man who was a preacher and now they are happily married. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
Such is life with a talker for a mate. After twenty-one years, I would have it no other way. And that makes Rick a “keeper” for me.
Anyone who knows Rick knows he loves to talk. This is his preferred method of communication, whether it be by phone or face to face. However, since discovering the internet, construction job chat rooms, and Facebook, he has expanded his modus operandi, but not by much.
The way Rick draws people out is by asking them questions, and twenty never seems to be enough. It can go on and on until he is satisfied or runs out of things to ask about. He’s a good listener too and doesn’t interrupt when you’re speaking. He is truly interested and learns a lot just by listening to what people have to say.
Rick keeps in touch with all kinds of people from high school friends, to people he’s worked with, to friends from church, and just about anyone else who’s crossed his path somewhere along the way. When we get ready to move from a place, he makes sure he gets telephone numbers from everyone he connected with. Then he’ll call them at some point to see how they are doing. Some people he speaks to weekly, others monthly, and some will only get an annual phone call so he can catch up on what’s going on with them.
Rick also stays in touch with the Fullers and Flatts (Rick likes to say his mother was a Flatt until she became a Fuller, hehe). He will regularly call aunts and uncles to find out how they are, who’s sick or having surgery, what’s going on with his cousins, etc. This is something his Dad used to do, and since his Dad passed away, Rick has taken up the torch.
And Rick doesn’t just talk to people he knows, he’ll talk to anyone who’s standing close enough to hear him speak. Here is a recent example that is so typically Rick. Last weekend we went to a buffet restaurant to celebrate Rick getting a job. The line was very long to get in. As we stood there waiting with about 100 other people, Rick started up a conversation with an older couple and their family in front of us. After an hour in line (it was a really good buffet), the couple finally reached the cashier. Just before they left to be taken to their table, the woman hands me a piece of paper with their names and telephone number on it and tells me if we are ever in town again, to please call them. Wow!! That was a first!!
After we had gone through the buffet line and returned to our table, Rick points and says, “See that guy over there?”
“What guy?” I say as I look in the direction he’s pointing.
“The guy in the red shirt.”
Spotting a red shirted man I reply, “What about him?”
“He works at the steel mill for Halliburton making $24 an hour as a pipe fitter.”
“Where do you know him from?”
“I met him on the buffet line just now.”
“Is there anyone you won’t talk to?”
“No,” he replies with a grin.
Rick never meets a stranger. His likeable nature, his quick smile, his inquisitive mind with seemingly endless questions, along with his desire to listen makes it easy for people to talk to him and sometimes even share the most intimate details of their life; like the forty-something year old lady in the tire store last Friday who told Rick how her boyfriend of 20 years cheated on her, how she dumped him and then later was set up on a blind date with a man who was a preacher and now they are happily married. I could go on, but I think you get the picture.
Such is life with a talker for a mate. After twenty-one years, I would have it no other way. And that makes Rick a “keeper” for me.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
It's a new dawn . . .
8:12 am. I’m sitting here at the computer staring out the dining room window… waiting.
About two hours ago it was pouring down rain. I’m glad, my car really needed a washing. I didn’t get up from bed; instead I just laid there praying. The rain has stopped now and all that’s left are some puddles in the road.
I can see about seven other RVs from this window. No one’s outside yet. Most people are already at work. Wait, a lady just came out carrying an umbrella and something else. Aw, it’s one of those cute little toy dogs, looks like a Chihuahua from here. “Yo quiero Taco Bell!” She puts little Taco on the ground and begins to walk. Makes me glad I have cats. Other people are now starting to move around, someone walking towards the laundry room, another taking trash to the dumpster. A few cars are coming and going. The day has begun for sure despite the fact that I can’t see the sun. But I know it’s there shinning down on me and all the earth.
9:20 am. I can see a few patches of blue sky begin to peek through the clouds. I can hear one very loud bird singing. Are these signs? I glance at my watch… that’s good I say to myself. I continue to wait.
I try to keep my mind occupied. I feed the cats, eat breakfast, take a shower. I don’t dry my hair because the blow dryer is too loud. Who knows what it will look like later? I don’t care. Back on the internet I check my emails, sign on to Facebook where I write a few comments, play a game of Farkle, and visit my Island Paradise.
10:23 am. Still waiting. The more time that goes by, the better I tell myself.
The microwave timer goes off. Time to drink more water. I’ve been trying to drink 10 glasses of water a day. I haven’t been successful until I started setting the timer every 30 minutes. When the timer goes off, I drink 9 swallows. It takes 1 ½ hours to drink one bottle equal to 2 glasses. It works well on days I stay at home. If I’m out and about, then it’s hit and miss and I have to drink more in the evening.
I’m listening to the song “Nothing Without You.” It’s on my playlist that’s on my blog page. Such a good song for me to listen to while I’m waiting. In fact, they are all good. All these songs help me focus on the one sure constant in my life… Jesus. What do people who don’t have Jesus in their life do when they need help? Who do they cry out to? Where do they get their hope from? I can only imagine.
11:38 am. The slow internet connection is driving me crazy. Grrr!! I turn on the television to Fox News. They talk about Obama, the deficit, the healthcare bill. I switch channels and stop at a movie, the 2005 remake of H. G. Wells’ “War of the Worlds.” The original was better. I turn the television off… I hate daytime tv. I also hate waiting.
12:24 pm… the phone rings… FINALLY…. It's Rick. My wait is over. I answer quickly. I try to guess what he is going to say. He says, "Do you want the good news or the bad news?" Oh, I can't handle any more bad news. Then, on the one year anniversary of Rick being out of work, after the endless phone calls and emails, after going back to school to upgrade his skills, after the many prayers by us and our dear friends and family, after all the disappointments we've endured over the last 12 months, he says, "I got the job."
And all I can say is God is good!!
"It's a new dawn . . .
it's a new day . . .
it's a new life . . .
for me . . .
and I'm feeling good."
About two hours ago it was pouring down rain. I’m glad, my car really needed a washing. I didn’t get up from bed; instead I just laid there praying. The rain has stopped now and all that’s left are some puddles in the road.
I can see about seven other RVs from this window. No one’s outside yet. Most people are already at work. Wait, a lady just came out carrying an umbrella and something else. Aw, it’s one of those cute little toy dogs, looks like a Chihuahua from here. “Yo quiero Taco Bell!” She puts little Taco on the ground and begins to walk. Makes me glad I have cats. Other people are now starting to move around, someone walking towards the laundry room, another taking trash to the dumpster. A few cars are coming and going. The day has begun for sure despite the fact that I can’t see the sun. But I know it’s there shinning down on me and all the earth.
9:20 am. I can see a few patches of blue sky begin to peek through the clouds. I can hear one very loud bird singing. Are these signs? I glance at my watch… that’s good I say to myself. I continue to wait.
I try to keep my mind occupied. I feed the cats, eat breakfast, take a shower. I don’t dry my hair because the blow dryer is too loud. Who knows what it will look like later? I don’t care. Back on the internet I check my emails, sign on to Facebook where I write a few comments, play a game of Farkle, and visit my Island Paradise.
10:23 am. Still waiting. The more time that goes by, the better I tell myself.
The microwave timer goes off. Time to drink more water. I’ve been trying to drink 10 glasses of water a day. I haven’t been successful until I started setting the timer every 30 minutes. When the timer goes off, I drink 9 swallows. It takes 1 ½ hours to drink one bottle equal to 2 glasses. It works well on days I stay at home. If I’m out and about, then it’s hit and miss and I have to drink more in the evening.
I’m listening to the song “Nothing Without You.” It’s on my playlist that’s on my blog page. Such a good song for me to listen to while I’m waiting. In fact, they are all good. All these songs help me focus on the one sure constant in my life… Jesus. What do people who don’t have Jesus in their life do when they need help? Who do they cry out to? Where do they get their hope from? I can only imagine.
11:38 am. The slow internet connection is driving me crazy. Grrr!! I turn on the television to Fox News. They talk about Obama, the deficit, the healthcare bill. I switch channels and stop at a movie, the 2005 remake of H. G. Wells’ “War of the Worlds.” The original was better. I turn the television off… I hate daytime tv. I also hate waiting.
12:24 pm… the phone rings… FINALLY…. It's Rick. My wait is over. I answer quickly. I try to guess what he is going to say. He says, "Do you want the good news or the bad news?" Oh, I can't handle any more bad news. Then, on the one year anniversary of Rick being out of work, after the endless phone calls and emails, after going back to school to upgrade his skills, after the many prayers by us and our dear friends and family, after all the disappointments we've endured over the last 12 months, he says, "I got the job."
And all I can say is God is good!!
"It's a new dawn . . .
it's a new day . . .
it's a new life . . .
for me . . .
and I'm feeling good."
Friday, March 19, 2010
We're Off to See the Wizard
Since beginning our life on the road, we have been to a lot of different cities and states. It's like being on the Yellow Brick Road. Each time we leave a place, we feel like we're off to see the Wizard, the Wizard being any company where we can find employment. Well, we left South Carolina last week and headed to Pascagoula, Mississippi to find the Wizard. I thought it only fitting to say goodbye to the people and places in and around Greenville and Piedmont, South Carolina who have touch our lives during the five months we lived there.
Goodbye Ivy Acres RV Park. With your park like setting, it felt like we were out in country yet we were never more than 15-20 minutes away from anywhere in Greenville. We enjoyed the curb-side garbage pickup and having our own private mailing address.
Goodbye Missy, the RV park cat. Even though we “adopted” you while we were living here, fed you each day and gave you shelter (outside) when it was cold or snowy, it breaks our hearts that we could not take you with us when we left. Three cats in an RV is one too many. I will miss our walks to the mailbox and seeing you sitting on the RV steps each morning. You’re a good cat and I hope you find a home someday.
Goodbye Copper River Grill. You were by far our favorite restaurant here. Your house salad is the best salad we ever had…mixed greens with diced black forest ham, cheese, hard boiled eggs, bacon bits, sliced almonds, all topped with the best honey mustard hot bacon dressing you ever tasted and you even included a hot croissant drizzled with honey . . . absolutely to die for.
Goodbye Mr. K’s Used Book Store. I was able to trade my used books in for credit against other used books. I got them for a fraction of the price they were when new. I was a reading machine while I was here! I stocked up before I left and now have about a dozen books to read.
Goodbye Callahan’s Family Restaurant. You serve the best Sunday-after-church fried chicken I have ever eaten! And your hamburgers were good too!
Goodbye Dr. Tucker at Greenville Eyecare Associates. You really blessed my heart with your generosity and compassion (see blog post One Act of Random Kindness).
Goodbye Fluor. Thank you for offering the Pipe Upgrade program for only $6/day. Rick has learned much from Austin the instructor and leaves with confidence in his pipe welding abilities. It’s too bad you took your time getting back to us regarding that job in Juliette, Georgia. You would have liked having Rick as an employee. Your loss.
Goodbye FGS Hardware Store. There is nothing better than a small town hardware store. You get personalized friendly service every time you visit. This is where we got our propane and discovered lye soap. It’s amazing stuff and good for your skin.
Even though it’s tough to say goodbye, I know there is a hello waiting on the other side. A new city is always exciting for us. The chance to explore the area in hopes of finding other great people and places is what life is all about.
Goodbye Ivy Acres RV Park. With your park like setting, it felt like we were out in country yet we were never more than 15-20 minutes away from anywhere in Greenville. We enjoyed the curb-side garbage pickup and having our own private mailing address.
Goodbye Missy, the RV park cat. Even though we “adopted” you while we were living here, fed you each day and gave you shelter (outside) when it was cold or snowy, it breaks our hearts that we could not take you with us when we left. Three cats in an RV is one too many. I will miss our walks to the mailbox and seeing you sitting on the RV steps each morning. You’re a good cat and I hope you find a home someday.
Goodbye Copper River Grill. You were by far our favorite restaurant here. Your house salad is the best salad we ever had…mixed greens with diced black forest ham, cheese, hard boiled eggs, bacon bits, sliced almonds, all topped with the best honey mustard hot bacon dressing you ever tasted and you even included a hot croissant drizzled with honey . . . absolutely to die for.
Goodbye Mr. K’s Used Book Store. I was able to trade my used books in for credit against other used books. I got them for a fraction of the price they were when new. I was a reading machine while I was here! I stocked up before I left and now have about a dozen books to read.
Goodbye Callahan’s Family Restaurant. You serve the best Sunday-after-church fried chicken I have ever eaten! And your hamburgers were good too!
Goodbye Dr. Tucker at Greenville Eyecare Associates. You really blessed my heart with your generosity and compassion (see blog post One Act of Random Kindness).
Goodbye Fluor. Thank you for offering the Pipe Upgrade program for only $6/day. Rick has learned much from Austin the instructor and leaves with confidence in his pipe welding abilities. It’s too bad you took your time getting back to us regarding that job in Juliette, Georgia. You would have liked having Rick as an employee. Your loss.
Goodbye FGS Hardware Store. There is nothing better than a small town hardware store. You get personalized friendly service every time you visit. This is where we got our propane and discovered lye soap. It’s amazing stuff and good for your skin.
Even though it’s tough to say goodbye, I know there is a hello waiting on the other side. A new city is always exciting for us. The chance to explore the area in hopes of finding other great people and places is what life is all about.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
The Dawnwood Years, Part 2 (The Stu Mystery)
Here are some more of my ramblings on the notes that were written in my yearbooks and the memories they evoked.
I didn’t really date in 7th grade. Note passing, eating lunch together, walking to classes together, going to someone’s party together, and coming by the house after school or on Saturday’s are what I would call dating in the 7th grade. There were a few notes written in my yearbook that gave me some clues as to who I was “dating” back then. Here’s what Alice Madonna wrote:
God made butter,
God made cheese,
God made Patty,
For Jimmy to squeeze.
Love Alice
My friend Gail Casserly also wrote a note that mentioned Jimmy. The Jimmy they were referring to is Jimmy DeGregorio. I remember he was my boyfriend in 7th grade and into 8th. He is the first boyfriend I remember having. I don’t remember how long we dated or even when or why we broke up.
But Jimmy wasn’t my first crush.
My first crush was Henry McDowell, who was two years older than me and lived next door. He was also my brother Mike’s friend. But Henry never acknowledged this crush. To him I was only Mike’s little sister who always wanted to hang around with them and one time when they let me, I wrecked Henry’s mini bike down at Wood Road Elementary School. It happened at the end of summer just a few days before school started. Going too fast + forgetting how to stop = big crash!! I remember I skinned up both knees pretty badly and was embarrassed by this on my first day of 7th grade. I looked like a little kid with skinned up knees. Ugh!
Sorry, I got sidetracked. Getting back to the notes. There was one note that indicated I had a crush on someone else besides Jimmy. It was written by Stu.
It’s too bad it didn’t last.
Oh well, good luck.
Stu
Stu who? Pantke or Silberman? Or was it another Stu? Anybody remember? The mystery continues.
Moving on to 8th grade, there wasn’t much in the way of “clues” in my yearbook so I don’t have much to tell about that year in my life. There were only 8 kids who signed my yearbook and 7 of them just signed their name. I wonder why? Did I fall in a hole or something? Tommy Accardi wrote a note on the FRONT of my book that got me in trouble with my mom. She didn’t think I should let kids “deface” the cover of my yearbook. I got mad at her for saying that. Maybe that is why I didn’t get many people to sign it. Did Mom confiscate it?
Notes picked back up again in 9th grade with 35 students and 5 teachers signing my yearbook. Stu’s name turned up in 4 of those notes and there was even the most sincere note to me written by mystery Stu himself. I'm embarrassed that I can’t remember. I wonder if Stu even remembers?
The other notes in my yearbook contained some endearing comments about me. Louise Kilcoyne called me her “science buddy,” Rich Portnoy called me his “little friend,” Al Giuffrida thought I was a “gr-8 German student,” James Feigel called me his “partner in the hall,” while others used words like sweet, kind, considerate, nice, thoughtful, loveable, a real doll, and a cute kid to describe me. Was I all that? Hmmm, but it’s nice to know others thought so.
I wish I could remember more of what happened during these impressionable years. When life is happening to you, you take it for granted. You know some of the major events in your life will pop up in your memories later on, that’s a given. It’s the minor or trivial things that don’t hang around in your brain for recall. I’m glad that these notes in my yearbooks were there to coax my brain into giving up these few memories that have been hidden for so long. I wish it had given up more.
I’ll close the Dawnwood years with another 7th grade memory that came to mind as I sat on my bed in my RV looking through my yearbook.
It was 1964. I just got the yearbook. I was sitting on my bed in my room looking through it and picking out all the cute boys in my class. At that age it was all about the boys. Little did I know then that the boy I thought was the cutest would become my husband six years later, Don Neidhart. Was that my destiny? I think so. My wonderful son, Jeffrey, and my beautiful grandchildren, Lexi, Niki and Andy, are proof of that.
To be continued . . .
I didn’t really date in 7th grade. Note passing, eating lunch together, walking to classes together, going to someone’s party together, and coming by the house after school or on Saturday’s are what I would call dating in the 7th grade. There were a few notes written in my yearbook that gave me some clues as to who I was “dating” back then. Here’s what Alice Madonna wrote:
God made butter,
God made cheese,
God made Patty,
For Jimmy to squeeze.
Love Alice
My friend Gail Casserly also wrote a note that mentioned Jimmy. The Jimmy they were referring to is Jimmy DeGregorio. I remember he was my boyfriend in 7th grade and into 8th. He is the first boyfriend I remember having. I don’t remember how long we dated or even when or why we broke up.
But Jimmy wasn’t my first crush.
My first crush was Henry McDowell, who was two years older than me and lived next door. He was also my brother Mike’s friend. But Henry never acknowledged this crush. To him I was only Mike’s little sister who always wanted to hang around with them and one time when they let me, I wrecked Henry’s mini bike down at Wood Road Elementary School. It happened at the end of summer just a few days before school started. Going too fast + forgetting how to stop = big crash!! I remember I skinned up both knees pretty badly and was embarrassed by this on my first day of 7th grade. I looked like a little kid with skinned up knees. Ugh!
Sorry, I got sidetracked. Getting back to the notes. There was one note that indicated I had a crush on someone else besides Jimmy. It was written by Stu.
It’s too bad it didn’t last.
Oh well, good luck.
Stu
Stu who? Pantke or Silberman? Or was it another Stu? Anybody remember? The mystery continues.
Moving on to 8th grade, there wasn’t much in the way of “clues” in my yearbook so I don’t have much to tell about that year in my life. There were only 8 kids who signed my yearbook and 7 of them just signed their name. I wonder why? Did I fall in a hole or something? Tommy Accardi wrote a note on the FRONT of my book that got me in trouble with my mom. She didn’t think I should let kids “deface” the cover of my yearbook. I got mad at her for saying that. Maybe that is why I didn’t get many people to sign it. Did Mom confiscate it?
Notes picked back up again in 9th grade with 35 students and 5 teachers signing my yearbook. Stu’s name turned up in 4 of those notes and there was even the most sincere note to me written by mystery Stu himself. I'm embarrassed that I can’t remember. I wonder if Stu even remembers?
The other notes in my yearbook contained some endearing comments about me. Louise Kilcoyne called me her “science buddy,” Rich Portnoy called me his “little friend,” Al Giuffrida thought I was a “gr-8 German student,” James Feigel called me his “partner in the hall,” while others used words like sweet, kind, considerate, nice, thoughtful, loveable, a real doll, and a cute kid to describe me. Was I all that? Hmmm, but it’s nice to know others thought so.
I wish I could remember more of what happened during these impressionable years. When life is happening to you, you take it for granted. You know some of the major events in your life will pop up in your memories later on, that’s a given. It’s the minor or trivial things that don’t hang around in your brain for recall. I’m glad that these notes in my yearbooks were there to coax my brain into giving up these few memories that have been hidden for so long. I wish it had given up more.
I’ll close the Dawnwood years with another 7th grade memory that came to mind as I sat on my bed in my RV looking through my yearbook.
It was 1964. I just got the yearbook. I was sitting on my bed in my room looking through it and picking out all the cute boys in my class. At that age it was all about the boys. Little did I know then that the boy I thought was the cutest would become my husband six years later, Don Neidhart. Was that my destiny? I think so. My wonderful son, Jeffrey, and my beautiful grandchildren, Lexi, Niki and Andy, are proof of that.
To be continued . . .
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Dawnwood Years, Part 1
In the next few blog posts, I’ll be continuing on with my reminiscing about my Junior High and High School experiences that were sparked by me digging out my old school yearbooks.
As I entered 7th grade at Dawnwood Junior High School, I remember being scared and excited at the same time. Afraid I couldn’t get to my classes on time or would get lost in the halls. Excited about all the new people I would meet and experiences I would have. I slowly thumbed through the pages of my yearbook, the 1964 Orbit, trying to relive that time by coaxing buried memories to the surface of my mind.
The great thing about 7th grade yearbooks is they are full of notes and well wishes from your classmates that give you clues to what your life was like back then. Some of them are funny, others simply wishing you the best in the future. Here are a few classics:
Remember Grant;
Remember Lee;
The “hell” with them;
Remember me!
Ted (Blanco)
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
If it weren’t for boys
You would rust.
Love & Lolly Pops,
Cecelia (Vanisky)
Never kiss by the garden gate.
Love is blind, but the neighbors ain’t.
Love ya, Jack (Reinhard)
There were loads more, equally as corny. Some wrote “good luck in 8th grade,” while others just signed their name. John Brown wrote “Peace & Contemplate.” A 7th grader? This guy was so far ahead of the rest of us. In all there were 40 students and 9 teachers who signed my 7th grade yearbook. I will cherish every one of them.
I must say that traveling down this road has awakened something in me…a desire to reconnect with the person I was back then and a need to reflect on the person I am today. How do the two compare? I would like to think that I am that same person deep down inside, but how can I be? So much has happened in my life these last 45 years that forced me to change.
For one, I am now a child of God…the old me is gone and I was made new. Hallelujah! And life experiences change you: 3 marriages, 2 divorces, children, death, etc. all have a part in shaping who you are and how you look at life. I’d like to think I’ve handled these changes in a positive manner, that I didn’t let them take away from who I am at the core, but instead used each experience to make the person I was back in 1964-69 a better version of the one I am today in 2010. Yes, that’s what I think.
To be continued . . .
As I entered 7th grade at Dawnwood Junior High School, I remember being scared and excited at the same time. Afraid I couldn’t get to my classes on time or would get lost in the halls. Excited about all the new people I would meet and experiences I would have. I slowly thumbed through the pages of my yearbook, the 1964 Orbit, trying to relive that time by coaxing buried memories to the surface of my mind.
The great thing about 7th grade yearbooks is they are full of notes and well wishes from your classmates that give you clues to what your life was like back then. Some of them are funny, others simply wishing you the best in the future. Here are a few classics:
Remember Grant;
Remember Lee;
The “hell” with them;
Remember me!
Ted (Blanco)
Ashes to Ashes
Dust to Dust
If it weren’t for boys
You would rust.
Love & Lolly Pops,
Cecelia (Vanisky)
Never kiss by the garden gate.
Love is blind, but the neighbors ain’t.
Love ya, Jack (Reinhard)
There were loads more, equally as corny. Some wrote “good luck in 8th grade,” while others just signed their name. John Brown wrote “Peace & Contemplate.” A 7th grader? This guy was so far ahead of the rest of us. In all there were 40 students and 9 teachers who signed my 7th grade yearbook. I will cherish every one of them.
I must say that traveling down this road has awakened something in me…a desire to reconnect with the person I was back then and a need to reflect on the person I am today. How do the two compare? I would like to think that I am that same person deep down inside, but how can I be? So much has happened in my life these last 45 years that forced me to change.
For one, I am now a child of God…the old me is gone and I was made new. Hallelujah! And life experiences change you: 3 marriages, 2 divorces, children, death, etc. all have a part in shaping who you are and how you look at life. I’d like to think I’ve handled these changes in a positive manner, that I didn’t let them take away from who I am at the core, but instead used each experience to make the person I was back in 1964-69 a better version of the one I am today in 2010. Yes, that’s what I think.
To be continued . . .
Monday, March 8, 2010
If I Could Do It All Over Again
Since being on Facebook, I have been in touch with several old classmates that I hadn’t thought about in 40+ years. There was a 40th reunion of the Class of 1969 this past summer, but I was not able to attend. Neither did I attend my 20th or 30th. There was always something stopping me from going. My loss. It would have been nice to reconnect with people who knew me when.
Yesterday, I took out my Dawnwood Junior High School and Newfield High School yearbooks to jog my memory of those years in my life. So much has happened between 1964 when I entered the 7th grade and 1969 when I graduated high school. Now, my brain is clogged with 45 years of stuff and, try as I might, I can’t shake out many memories from back then. I wish I would have taken the time to write a journal, take some pictures or do something that would have helped me later to recall the fun times, the heartbreaks, the experiences I had back then. Kids today have it much better. With affordable digital cameras, online social networks and blogs they can record their entire life without much effort and recall it down the road to relive again and again. I see my granddaughters doing it.
The one regret I have after looking through all the yearbooks was that I didn’t make the most of my school years. I didn’t really get involved. I didn’t join in enough.
The only group I remember being involved with through all three years of Jr. High was Chorus. I loved to sing. Still do. Also, I saw my picture in the German Club for 9th grade. (Was machst du heute nach der Schule? Translation: What are you doing after school today?) But I don’t remember anything about German Club. What did we do in that club? Anybody?
In my sophomore and junior years I didn’t do or join anything. In my senior year, I joined the Quadrangle staff (probably because I was dating Don Neidhart who was the Sports Editor) as a contributing writer (I wrote a column about what was going on in other schools) and I was involved in the senior production (I wrote the Excederin Headache #69 commercial and co-starred in it with Marc Capobianco).
When the 1969 Medietas came out, I remember feeling sad when I looked up my name and there were only two numbers listed beside it, #95 and #200, the pages on which my picture appears. One was my senior picture and the other the group picture of the Quadrangle staff. Aside from class head shots, there were many other pictures in the yearbook, but I was only in one of them. I remember looking at the senior pictures and seeing all the activities, sports and clubs other seniors were involved in and the number of years they were active and thinking I wish I had done more. But it was too late. You can’t go back and relive your school days again. You only get one shot. But if I could, I would do it differently.
If I could talk to a bunch of 7th graders today, I would tell them the key to a successful and fulfilling academic experience is to get involved. Join a club, sing in the choir, play sports, get to know as many people as possible, have the best school spirit you can have, attend all the games, plays and events you can get to, and record as much of it as you can in photos and journals. There will come a time, maybe 20 or 30 or 40 years later, when you will be glad you did.
To be continued . . .
Yesterday, I took out my Dawnwood Junior High School and Newfield High School yearbooks to jog my memory of those years in my life. So much has happened between 1964 when I entered the 7th grade and 1969 when I graduated high school. Now, my brain is clogged with 45 years of stuff and, try as I might, I can’t shake out many memories from back then. I wish I would have taken the time to write a journal, take some pictures or do something that would have helped me later to recall the fun times, the heartbreaks, the experiences I had back then. Kids today have it much better. With affordable digital cameras, online social networks and blogs they can record their entire life without much effort and recall it down the road to relive again and again. I see my granddaughters doing it.
The one regret I have after looking through all the yearbooks was that I didn’t make the most of my school years. I didn’t really get involved. I didn’t join in enough.
The only group I remember being involved with through all three years of Jr. High was Chorus. I loved to sing. Still do. Also, I saw my picture in the German Club for 9th grade. (Was machst du heute nach der Schule? Translation: What are you doing after school today?) But I don’t remember anything about German Club. What did we do in that club? Anybody?
In my sophomore and junior years I didn’t do or join anything. In my senior year, I joined the Quadrangle staff (probably because I was dating Don Neidhart who was the Sports Editor) as a contributing writer (I wrote a column about what was going on in other schools) and I was involved in the senior production (I wrote the Excederin Headache #69 commercial and co-starred in it with Marc Capobianco).
When the 1969 Medietas came out, I remember feeling sad when I looked up my name and there were only two numbers listed beside it, #95 and #200, the pages on which my picture appears. One was my senior picture and the other the group picture of the Quadrangle staff. Aside from class head shots, there were many other pictures in the yearbook, but I was only in one of them. I remember looking at the senior pictures and seeing all the activities, sports and clubs other seniors were involved in and the number of years they were active and thinking I wish I had done more. But it was too late. You can’t go back and relive your school days again. You only get one shot. But if I could, I would do it differently.
If I could talk to a bunch of 7th graders today, I would tell them the key to a successful and fulfilling academic experience is to get involved. Join a club, sing in the choir, play sports, get to know as many people as possible, have the best school spirit you can have, attend all the games, plays and events you can get to, and record as much of it as you can in photos and journals. There will come a time, maybe 20 or 30 or 40 years later, when you will be glad you did.
To be continued . . .
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Dance With My Father
Over the last few years, I've heard the song, Dance With My Father by Luther Vandross, played on the radio only a few times; but whenever I heard it, I would think of my dad. Because of that, I decided to add it to my playlist. Now, each time I hear it, more and more memories of my dad come flooding back, some better than others. If you are listening to my playlist while reading this, please click on that song. It is what inspired this post.
My dad passed away on July 2, 1998. He was on vacation in San Diego with my mom visiting my son Jeff and his family. They all had no idea that an aneurysm was lurking in his brain just waiting to burst. It all happened so quickly. In less than 24 hours he was gone. There was no time for anyone to say goodbye.
A few weeks before Father’s Day 1998 I was in Walmart with Rick. I was looking for a card to send to my dad but Rick thought it was a waste of money (sorry Hallmark). He said for the $4.50 I would spend on a card I could talk to my dad on the phone for 45 minutes. That reasoning sounded good to me. So on Father’s Day, me and Dad talked on the phone for almost an hour. I don’t think I had ever heard him talk so much at one time before that. We talked about his favorite sports teams, what woodworking projects he was working on (he liked to build bird houses) and other stuff I can’t remember now but wish I could. We had a good talk that ended with “I love you Dad” and hearing “I love you too” in return. That was the last time we spoke. If only I had known that, I would have recorded the conversation. Life is filled with “if onlys.”
The earliest memory I have of me and Dad was back in the late 50’s. I’m not sure how old I was, probably about seven. We lived in the Bronx and Dad had to take the bus to work. I was playing outside when I saw him come out of the apartment building we lived in. I asked if I could go to work with him. He gently said no. I persisted and even started crying saying that I wanted to go with him. I followed him all the way to the end of the street all the while asking, “Can I go, please, please, can I go with you?” He continued to tell me he couldn’t take me with him. He worked in a plastics factory on the night shift. Finally, with me standing there crying, and him having to go or he would miss his bus, he handed me a dime and told me to go buy myself some candy. I reluctantly accepted his “bribe” and watched him as he crossed the street and walked out of sight to the bus stop. I did go and buy some candy. It helped erase the sadness of not being able to go with him.
My memories of me and Dad haven't always been good ones. Like the time he took my brother Michael to Coney Island and I didn’t find out about it until they got home. Of course, I whined and said, “When can I go?” “Someday,” he said. But someday never came. He later told me that Coney Island wasn't a good place for girls. That was no consolation.
And the time Dad took me for a driving lesson. Our driveway has a slope to it. I put the car in reverse and gave it some gas. The car quickly went down the drive and halfway out into the street before I applied the brake. Dad scolded me saying I didn’t need to give it any gas as gravity would take the car down the drive. “Oh,” was all I could say. Flustered, he said, “Okay, let’s go." I stepped on the gas and boy was I surprised when I drove up on the neighbor’s lawn…behind me! You see, I’d forgotten to put the car in drive, it was still in reverse. Really flustered now, Dad told me to put the car in drive and go back up the driveway. Our lesson was over. Dad never did take me for another driving lesson, instead I signed up for Drivers Ed at school.
Or the time he got mad at me for using his razor and not telling him. I wondered how he knew. I cleaned it and everything. He later he told me he knew because I had dulled the blade and he could feel it on his face. LOL.
No matter what I was feeling at the time these memories occurred, I wouldn't trade them for anything now. They are precious and priceless to me and even put a smile on my face. Time indeed does heal all wounds.
Other memories I have of me and my dad are:
Dad playing guitar for my birthday while everyone sang the happy birthday song;
My dad passed away on July 2, 1998. He was on vacation in San Diego with my mom visiting my son Jeff and his family. They all had no idea that an aneurysm was lurking in his brain just waiting to burst. It all happened so quickly. In less than 24 hours he was gone. There was no time for anyone to say goodbye.
The earliest memory I have of me and Dad was back in the late 50’s. I’m not sure how old I was, probably about seven. We lived in the Bronx and Dad had to take the bus to work. I was playing outside when I saw him come out of the apartment building we lived in. I asked if I could go to work with him. He gently said no. I persisted and even started crying saying that I wanted to go with him. I followed him all the way to the end of the street all the while asking, “Can I go, please, please, can I go with you?” He continued to tell me he couldn’t take me with him. He worked in a plastics factory on the night shift. Finally, with me standing there crying, and him having to go or he would miss his bus, he handed me a dime and told me to go buy myself some candy. I reluctantly accepted his “bribe” and watched him as he crossed the street and walked out of sight to the bus stop. I did go and buy some candy. It helped erase the sadness of not being able to go with him.My memories of me and Dad haven't always been good ones. Like the time he took my brother Michael to Coney Island and I didn’t find out about it until they got home. Of course, I whined and said, “When can I go?” “Someday,” he said. But someday never came. He later told me that Coney Island wasn't a good place for girls. That was no consolation.
And the time Dad took me for a driving lesson. Our driveway has a slope to it. I put the car in reverse and gave it some gas. The car quickly went down the drive and halfway out into the street before I applied the brake. Dad scolded me saying I didn’t need to give it any gas as gravity would take the car down the drive. “Oh,” was all I could say. Flustered, he said, “Okay, let’s go." I stepped on the gas and boy was I surprised when I drove up on the neighbor’s lawn…behind me! You see, I’d forgotten to put the car in drive, it was still in reverse. Really flustered now, Dad told me to put the car in drive and go back up the driveway. Our lesson was over. Dad never did take me for another driving lesson, instead I signed up for Drivers Ed at school.
Or the time he got mad at me for using his razor and not telling him. I wondered how he knew. I cleaned it and everything. He later he told me he knew because I had dulled the blade and he could feel it on his face. LOL.
No matter what I was feeling at the time these memories occurred, I wouldn't trade them for anything now. They are precious and priceless to me and even put a smile on my face. Time indeed does heal all wounds.
Other memories I have of me and my dad are:
Dad playing guitar for my birthday while everyone sang the happy birthday song;
being his “partner in crime” as he would break open a bag of candy or cookies in the grocery store for us to “sample” a few and my mom getting so angry with him then trying to find the bag so she could put it in her cart;
going strawberry picking with the family and watching Dad eat one strawberry for every one he put in his box;
Dad buying his one quart bottle of beer to have as he watched his Sunday sports games and me asking for a sip and making a sour face at the taste;
And Dad asking me to dance the mambo (a latin style dance-Dad was Puerto Rican) when I was in my teens. We danced for a few minutes and then he finished the dance with my mom. That was the one and only time I can remember that we ever danced together.
Dad was the quiet type, never saying too much to us kids; and he only had one speed-slow, which always annoyed my mom. But I did learn some valuable life lessons from him: 1) Say “I love you” as often as you can, whenever you can to the ones you love; 2) You can’t always get what you want, but maybe you'll get a dime for trying; 3) Make sure you have it in drive; 4) Replace the blade so you won’t get caught; 5) Candy, cookies, and strawberries are yummy but beer is yucky; and 6) Never turn down a dance with someone you love. You may never get another chance and you won't want to miss the memory.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday's Child
Last Sunday was my friend Susan’s birthday. Facebook made it easy for me to send her birthday greetings. Since I had her birth date, I decided to look up what day she was born on. I remembered that poem Monday’s Child that goes like this:
Mondays child is fair of face,
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays child works hard for a living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
I found out that Susan was born on a Saturday. She does indeed work hard for a living. She works at the high school in Pittsfield, IL as the food services director and is also transportation secretary plus she drives a school bus when needed. I decided to look up my other friends and family to see what day they were born on (yes, I did look up each one individually). If your name isn’t listed here, it’s because you chose not to share your birth year on your Facebook page.
Monday’s child is fair of face – My brothers Rick and Mike were both born on a Monday. Of course I’m gonna say they are both good looking!! It runs in the family, doesn’t it? Some of my good looking friends born on Monday are Ahron, Gail, Kristen, Bridgett and Larry C.
Tuesday’s child is full of grace – Rick and I were both born on a Tuesday. Graceful? I don’t know about that. But I do know we are saved by grace through the blood of Jesus. Crystall, Dale, Jenna, and Rich all share this day.
Wednesday’s child is full of woe – I was not looking forward to seeing who was born on a Wednesday. Webster defines woe as “Deep distress or misery, as from grief; wretchedness. Synonyms are regret, misfortune, calamity.” I wish woe on no one. I discovered my son Jeff was born on a Wednesday. I thought he was going to be born on a Tuesday, but 36 hours of labor pushed him over to the next day. So far I see no woe in his life. Friends Patty, BJ, Fran, Linda Mc, Jerri, Janet, Richard, and Troy are also Wednesday children. Interestingly, out of all of the people I looked up, Wednesday contains the largest group with nine.
Thursday’s child has far to go – I’m not sure how to interpret this. “Far to go” may mean they will travel far in distance or life or maybe they have to go the extra mile beyond everyone else to succeed. I don’t know but Becky, Debbie L, John F, Larry T, Phyllis R, and Rhonda all have “far to go.”
Friday’s child is loving and giving – Dr. Phil was born on a Friday and we all know how giving he is as seen on the Dr. Phil Show. Friends Alice, Blyss, Nancy , Stu, and Tom were also born on a Friday. Everyone loves Fridays!
Saturday’s child works hard for a living – In addition to my friend Susan, Debbie O, Sara, Ed D (not Big Ed), and Phylis H share this day. Nothing wrong with a little hard work.
The child born on the Sabbath day is bonny and blithe and good and gay – Bonny is defined as “pleasing to the eye” and blithe means “carefree.” My best friend Barb was born on a Sunday. I’m not surprised. She is such a beautiful person inside and out. Evan, Rita, and Teresa were also born on Sunday. It was the smallest group with only 4 out of the 42 friends being born on this day. Sunday is the Lord’s day and that makes it a very special day.
After going through this exercise, I have come to the conclusion that the attributes ascribed to children born on each day of the poem apply to us all. I believe we are all fair of face, full of grace, full of woe, have far to go, are loving and giving, work hard for a living and no matter what our birth day, we are bonny and blithe and good and gay.
Mondays child is fair of face,
Tuesdays child is full of grace,
Wednesdays child is full of woe,
Thursdays child has far to go,
Fridays child is loving and giving,
Saturdays child works hard for a living,
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.
I found out that Susan was born on a Saturday. She does indeed work hard for a living. She works at the high school in Pittsfield, IL as the food services director and is also transportation secretary plus she drives a school bus when needed. I decided to look up my other friends and family to see what day they were born on (yes, I did look up each one individually). If your name isn’t listed here, it’s because you chose not to share your birth year on your Facebook page.
Monday’s child is fair of face – My brothers Rick and Mike were both born on a Monday. Of course I’m gonna say they are both good looking!! It runs in the family, doesn’t it? Some of my good looking friends born on Monday are Ahron, Gail, Kristen, Bridgett and Larry C.
Tuesday’s child is full of grace – Rick and I were both born on a Tuesday. Graceful? I don’t know about that. But I do know we are saved by grace through the blood of Jesus. Crystall, Dale, Jenna, and Rich all share this day.
Wednesday’s child is full of woe – I was not looking forward to seeing who was born on a Wednesday. Webster defines woe as “Deep distress or misery, as from grief; wretchedness. Synonyms are regret, misfortune, calamity.” I wish woe on no one. I discovered my son Jeff was born on a Wednesday. I thought he was going to be born on a Tuesday, but 36 hours of labor pushed him over to the next day. So far I see no woe in his life. Friends Patty, BJ, Fran, Linda Mc, Jerri, Janet, Richard, and Troy are also Wednesday children. Interestingly, out of all of the people I looked up, Wednesday contains the largest group with nine.
Thursday’s child has far to go – I’m not sure how to interpret this. “Far to go” may mean they will travel far in distance or life or maybe they have to go the extra mile beyond everyone else to succeed. I don’t know but Becky, Debbie L, John F, Larry T, Phyllis R, and Rhonda all have “far to go.”
Friday’s child is loving and giving – Dr. Phil was born on a Friday and we all know how giving he is as seen on the Dr. Phil Show. Friends Alice, Blyss, Nancy , Stu, and Tom were also born on a Friday. Everyone loves Fridays!
Saturday’s child works hard for a living – In addition to my friend Susan, Debbie O, Sara, Ed D (not Big Ed), and Phylis H share this day. Nothing wrong with a little hard work.
The child born on the Sabbath day is bonny and blithe and good and gay – Bonny is defined as “pleasing to the eye” and blithe means “carefree.” My best friend Barb was born on a Sunday. I’m not surprised. She is such a beautiful person inside and out. Evan, Rita, and Teresa were also born on Sunday. It was the smallest group with only 4 out of the 42 friends being born on this day. Sunday is the Lord’s day and that makes it a very special day.
After going through this exercise, I have come to the conclusion that the attributes ascribed to children born on each day of the poem apply to us all. I believe we are all fair of face, full of grace, full of woe, have far to go, are loving and giving, work hard for a living and no matter what our birth day, we are bonny and blithe and good and gay.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Things I Hated This Week
Stuff happens…sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s bad. Here are a few things that happened this past week that I didn’t particularly like.
I hate it when you’re frying bacon and the grease splashes you on the hand or worse in the face. I also hate the mess that frying bacon makes, but cooking it in the microwave is not an option for me. It tastes like cardboard doing it that way. And if you’re going to eat bacon, you might as well get all the flavor out of it you can.
I hate putting on a new roll of toilet paper. ‘Nuff said about that! BTW, in our house we like it OVER. I’ve seen those Cottonelle commercials with their Roll Poll. According to the latest results (yes I looked it up on their website) OVER is ahead at 78% while UNDER is at 22%. Nice to know I’m in the majority. My mom rolls Under to prevent her cats from unrolling an entire roll of tp just for the fun of it. Sorry, just had to throw that in. Maybe that 22% has cats. Hmmmm.
I hate it when the bar of soap in the shower gets so thin you can barely pick it up without breaking it. You have to use your nails to get it unstuck then you get soap under your fingernails. I use liquid body wash but like Oil of Oley for my face.
I hate picking up cat hairballs, or as I call them cat fingers because that’s what they look like. And why can’t my cat’s throw up on the linoleum floor? No they like the carpet. Anybody seen my OxiClean?
I hate it that as soon as a show goes to commercial break Rick will change the channel to another program, but guess what, it’s on commercial break too so we end up watching parts of 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 different commercials. What am I talking about, that’s not just this week, that’s every week!
Speaking of commercials, I hate it that they get so loud, much louder than the program I’m watching. You have to turn down the volume of the commercial then turn it back up for the program. Why do they do that? Do they think we’re deaf? Besides, don’t they realize all the men are switching channels anyway? When are they going to fix that? I hear there’s a bill in Congress to fix that. Is that what Washington thinks is important? If so, we’re in more trouble than we think.
Speaking of Washington, I hate it that they won’t call Glenn Beck and talk to him about the issues he’s been bringing up on his TV show. Is it because he’s right and they think if they don’t say anything he will go away? He won’t. And he went through all that trouble installing a special red phone for them to call him directly. Hello? Washington? Call Glenn Beck please and let’s get all these questions answered.
I hate it when the judges on American Idol make those kids suffer while they hem and haw around then finally tell them they made it (or didn’t) to the next round. What? Are they sadists or something? How cruel is that? Does it make for good TV? Is that why they do it? Not to me it doesn’t. Why don’t they just give them an envelope with either a YES or NO inside and be done with it. No, they have to make it dramatic and drag out the show.
I hate it that the guide on DirecTV doesn’t tell you if a program is a rerun or if it’s new. Is that so hard? I can go on YahooTV and it will show if it’s a rerun, why can’t DirecTV do that? I got all settled in to watch House this week and it was a rerun. Bummer.
I hate it when I’ve just finished reading a good book. After all that time I’ve spent with the characters, it’s like I know them personally. Once I close a book for good, I have to wait a few days, sometimes weeks, before I’ll pick up a new one; that is unless there’s a sequel with the same characters, then I’ll jump right in. I read all 14 books in the Left Behind series, all 7 Harry Potter books and all 7 stories in the Chronicles of Narnia. I love books in a series. I like to read Jeffrey Deavers but only his books which feature the character Lincoln Rhyme. I love a good character.
Lastly, I hated that Rick failed his welding test yesterday. It was for a two month job in North Carolina. I was afraid it would shake his confidence, but I don't think it has. There will be other tests and other opportunities. Plus things seem to be opening up in the construction business and he still has some irons in the fire.
That’s it, I’m done. Whew, there were a lot of things I didn’t like this week. I hope next week is better. I think I’ll take a more positive approach. I read somewhere that every day may not be good, but there’s something good in every day. Now it’s up to me to find the good.
I hate it when you’re frying bacon and the grease splashes you on the hand or worse in the face. I also hate the mess that frying bacon makes, but cooking it in the microwave is not an option for me. It tastes like cardboard doing it that way. And if you’re going to eat bacon, you might as well get all the flavor out of it you can.
I hate putting on a new roll of toilet paper. ‘Nuff said about that! BTW, in our house we like it OVER. I’ve seen those Cottonelle commercials with their Roll Poll. According to the latest results (yes I looked it up on their website) OVER is ahead at 78% while UNDER is at 22%. Nice to know I’m in the majority. My mom rolls Under to prevent her cats from unrolling an entire roll of tp just for the fun of it. Sorry, just had to throw that in. Maybe that 22% has cats. Hmmmm.
I hate it when the bar of soap in the shower gets so thin you can barely pick it up without breaking it. You have to use your nails to get it unstuck then you get soap under your fingernails. I use liquid body wash but like Oil of Oley for my face.
I hate picking up cat hairballs, or as I call them cat fingers because that’s what they look like. And why can’t my cat’s throw up on the linoleum floor? No they like the carpet. Anybody seen my OxiClean?
I hate it that as soon as a show goes to commercial break Rick will change the channel to another program, but guess what, it’s on commercial break too so we end up watching parts of 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 different commercials. What am I talking about, that’s not just this week, that’s every week!
Speaking of commercials, I hate it that they get so loud, much louder than the program I’m watching. You have to turn down the volume of the commercial then turn it back up for the program. Why do they do that? Do they think we’re deaf? Besides, don’t they realize all the men are switching channels anyway? When are they going to fix that? I hear there’s a bill in Congress to fix that. Is that what Washington thinks is important? If so, we’re in more trouble than we think.
Speaking of Washington, I hate it that they won’t call Glenn Beck and talk to him about the issues he’s been bringing up on his TV show. Is it because he’s right and they think if they don’t say anything he will go away? He won’t. And he went through all that trouble installing a special red phone for them to call him directly. Hello? Washington? Call Glenn Beck please and let’s get all these questions answered.
I hate it when the judges on American Idol make those kids suffer while they hem and haw around then finally tell them they made it (or didn’t) to the next round. What? Are they sadists or something? How cruel is that? Does it make for good TV? Is that why they do it? Not to me it doesn’t. Why don’t they just give them an envelope with either a YES or NO inside and be done with it. No, they have to make it dramatic and drag out the show.
I hate it that the guide on DirecTV doesn’t tell you if a program is a rerun or if it’s new. Is that so hard? I can go on YahooTV and it will show if it’s a rerun, why can’t DirecTV do that? I got all settled in to watch House this week and it was a rerun. Bummer.
I hate it when I’ve just finished reading a good book. After all that time I’ve spent with the characters, it’s like I know them personally. Once I close a book for good, I have to wait a few days, sometimes weeks, before I’ll pick up a new one; that is unless there’s a sequel with the same characters, then I’ll jump right in. I read all 14 books in the Left Behind series, all 7 Harry Potter books and all 7 stories in the Chronicles of Narnia. I love books in a series. I like to read Jeffrey Deavers but only his books which feature the character Lincoln Rhyme. I love a good character.
Lastly, I hated that Rick failed his welding test yesterday. It was for a two month job in North Carolina. I was afraid it would shake his confidence, but I don't think it has. There will be other tests and other opportunities. Plus things seem to be opening up in the construction business and he still has some irons in the fire.
That’s it, I’m done. Whew, there were a lot of things I didn’t like this week. I hope next week is better. I think I’ll take a more positive approach. I read somewhere that every day may not be good, but there’s something good in every day. Now it’s up to me to find the good.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Music To My Ears
“Music speaks what cannot be expressed, soothes the mind and gives it rest, heals the heart and makes it whole, flows from heaven to the soul.” Unknown.
Once again, I discovered something new for my blog. At Playlist.com you can create your very own playlist of songs that you like and then link them to your blog page. I’ve picked this group of songs for very specific reasons, which I’ve noted below. You can turn the music off or advance to the next song if you don’t like the one that’s playing. Enjoy my selections!
Bad Day – Daniel Powter. This song will always have fond memories for me as an American Idol fan. It was played as each voted off contestant watched a recap of their journey on Idol. It has such a catchy melody and of course the voted off contestant was indeed having a bad day when it was being played for them. When I heard it was named the biggest one hit wonder of the decade by Billboard Magazine, I just had to add it to my playlist.
Don’t Worry Be Happy – Bobby McFerrin. I first heard this song back in 1988. I was working for DBA Systems in Kissimmee, Florida. The CEO of the company just returned from a vacation to some island. He had heard this song and liked it so much that every day at 4:30 just before quitting time he would play this song over the company’s loudspeaker. I must admit that at first it always put a smile on my face, but after several weeks, we were all sick of listening to it and pleaded for him to stop. He finally did when he realized it was not making us happy any more.
J’En Ai Marre – Alizee. A few months ago, Rick received an email from a friend with a link to a video of this song on YouTube. Alizee is a young, pretty, sexy French woman. I was home when Rick played the song and fell in love with the sound of her voice, the music and the way it sounded in the French language. There is an English version (J’En Ai Marre translated means I’m Fed Up), but I like it in her native language. When I hear it, it makes me want to dance. If I was on American Bandstand (anyone remember that show?), I would give it a 10.
Dance With My Father – Luther Vandross. Whenever I hear this song, I think of my dad. He’s been gone now 12 years and playing this song invokes strong memories of him. It always brings tears to my eyes hearing this song as the memories of him come flooding back to my mind. I miss him a lot.
We Are The World – Various Artists. This is the version they did to raise money for Africa back in 1985. It seems appropriate to add it to my playlist for Haiti. And I like this version better than the one done for Haiti. The song makes me feel good when I hear it, plus it has Michael Jackson singing. And the words are very meaningful. We are the World and the world’s children. We need to take care of one another. If you haven’t already, please consider making a donation to the Haiti relief fund. To donate $10 to the Red Cross, text the word “Haiti” to 90999.
Once again, I discovered something new for my blog. At Playlist.com you can create your very own playlist of songs that you like and then link them to your blog page. I’ve picked this group of songs for very specific reasons, which I’ve noted below. You can turn the music off or advance to the next song if you don’t like the one that’s playing. Enjoy my selections!
Bad Day – Daniel Powter. This song will always have fond memories for me as an American Idol fan. It was played as each voted off contestant watched a recap of their journey on Idol. It has such a catchy melody and of course the voted off contestant was indeed having a bad day when it was being played for them. When I heard it was named the biggest one hit wonder of the decade by Billboard Magazine, I just had to add it to my playlist.
Don’t Worry Be Happy – Bobby McFerrin. I first heard this song back in 1988. I was working for DBA Systems in Kissimmee, Florida. The CEO of the company just returned from a vacation to some island. He had heard this song and liked it so much that every day at 4:30 just before quitting time he would play this song over the company’s loudspeaker. I must admit that at first it always put a smile on my face, but after several weeks, we were all sick of listening to it and pleaded for him to stop. He finally did when he realized it was not making us happy any more.
J’En Ai Marre – Alizee. A few months ago, Rick received an email from a friend with a link to a video of this song on YouTube. Alizee is a young, pretty, sexy French woman. I was home when Rick played the song and fell in love with the sound of her voice, the music and the way it sounded in the French language. There is an English version (J’En Ai Marre translated means I’m Fed Up), but I like it in her native language. When I hear it, it makes me want to dance. If I was on American Bandstand (anyone remember that show?), I would give it a 10.
Dance With My Father – Luther Vandross. Whenever I hear this song, I think of my dad. He’s been gone now 12 years and playing this song invokes strong memories of him. It always brings tears to my eyes hearing this song as the memories of him come flooding back to my mind. I miss him a lot.
We Are The World – Various Artists. This is the version they did to raise money for Africa back in 1985. It seems appropriate to add it to my playlist for Haiti. And I like this version better than the one done for Haiti. The song makes me feel good when I hear it, plus it has Michael Jackson singing. And the words are very meaningful. We are the World and the world’s children. We need to take care of one another. If you haven’t already, please consider making a donation to the Haiti relief fund. To donate $10 to the Red Cross, text the word “Haiti” to 90999.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Cawfee Anyone?
I was watching an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond recently (I just love that show and King of Queens too). It was the episode where Ray’s father was participating in a Civil War reenactment. Ray wanted so much for his father to invite him to go along, and in a roundabout way he did. Ray wanted to go as a spectator, but his father got him to participate, only not as a Union soldier, but as a Confederate. It was so funny when Ray (with his thick New York accent) said, “Nobody is going to believe I’m from the south when I open my mouth and start talking.” It’s true, there is something about a New York City accent that is unmistakable; people immediately know where you’re from. For me, it’s like music. Whenever I hear someone speaking with a New York accent, I immediately think of home and family.
I remember in an episode of King of Queens, Karry wants to get a promotion at her job but she thinks her New York accent is holding her back. She decided to take lessons from a friend on how to say COFFEE and not CAWFEE. It was so funny watching her as she practiced until she finally mastered the correct pronunciation. My sister-in-law Debbie says CAWFEE and I just love it! My brother Rick and my niece Sandi also have great New York accents. But not me. I don’t have a New York accent. I guess I’ve been gone from New York too long. Or have I?
Blake, my former boss from Illinois, just loved it when my New York accent would “pop out” unexpectedly. He would get such a kick out of it. He’d say, “What did you say?” hoping I would repeat the word the same way. The word DAWTA instead of DAUGHTER comes to mind. He’d want me to say the word over and over again. He wasn’t making fun of me, he just liked the sound of it. I think he was enamored with the New York accent. One time when he came back from a trip to New York, he told me about a conversation he overheard while riding the bus. He heard one guy named Luigi talking to another guy and Luigi said, “Fa-get-a-bout-it” like only a New Yorker can say. Every day for weeks Blake kept saying that phrase over and over and over again trying to get it just right, in between asking me to say it over and over and over again. That overheard conversation left such an impression on him, he named a stray cat that he adopted Luigi.
I’m living in South Carolina at the moment. The people here have a southern accent, although not a real strong one like they have in Alabama. It’s an ok accent, but nothing can take the place of hearing words like CAWFEE and DAWTA to bring back thoughts of loved ones back home in New York. No one can pronounce words the way New Yorkers can. I imagine to this day, whenever the occasion calls for it, Blake can be heard saying, “fa-get-a-bout-it,” but he will never master the correct pronunciation. You see, only a New Yorker can do that.
I remember in an episode of King of Queens, Karry wants to get a promotion at her job but she thinks her New York accent is holding her back. She decided to take lessons from a friend on how to say COFFEE and not CAWFEE. It was so funny watching her as she practiced until she finally mastered the correct pronunciation. My sister-in-law Debbie says CAWFEE and I just love it! My brother Rick and my niece Sandi also have great New York accents. But not me. I don’t have a New York accent. I guess I’ve been gone from New York too long. Or have I?
Blake, my former boss from Illinois, just loved it when my New York accent would “pop out” unexpectedly. He would get such a kick out of it. He’d say, “What did you say?” hoping I would repeat the word the same way. The word DAWTA instead of DAUGHTER comes to mind. He’d want me to say the word over and over again. He wasn’t making fun of me, he just liked the sound of it. I think he was enamored with the New York accent. One time when he came back from a trip to New York, he told me about a conversation he overheard while riding the bus. He heard one guy named Luigi talking to another guy and Luigi said, “Fa-get-a-bout-it” like only a New Yorker can say. Every day for weeks Blake kept saying that phrase over and over and over again trying to get it just right, in between asking me to say it over and over and over again. That overheard conversation left such an impression on him, he named a stray cat that he adopted Luigi.
I’m living in South Carolina at the moment. The people here have a southern accent, although not a real strong one like they have in Alabama. It’s an ok accent, but nothing can take the place of hearing words like CAWFEE and DAWTA to bring back thoughts of loved ones back home in New York. No one can pronounce words the way New Yorkers can. I imagine to this day, whenever the occasion calls for it, Blake can be heard saying, “fa-get-a-bout-it,” but he will never master the correct pronunciation. You see, only a New Yorker can do that.
Friday, February 12, 2010
School's Out
Rick is coming to the end of his pipe welding classes. He's been at it since October. Now begins the hard part of finding a job and putting all that new knowledge to work. I have started emailing his resume to the masses while he searches and chats with people on tradejobsforum.com, a website chat room visited by recruiters, other unemployeds, and people who have information and want to help others find jobs too. Rick already has one possibility which will entail us going back to Jackson, Georgia and working at the power plant he tried to get on with last September. We'll see what happens with that. He has to call back the pipe superintendent on Monday. Please pray for him.
I'm so ready for this part of our life (the unemployed part) to be over. I am ready for a fresh start. The construction business is so crazy...one day you're in and the next day you're out. Hmmm, that sounds familiar, oh well, what I mean is that all it takes is a crossed eyed look at someone and you can be out the door looking for a job again (well maybe not that easy but close). I think if we had known this at the start, maybe Rick would have decided on another career. But, and there is always a but, Rick has so much invested in welding, education and equipment wise, that we can't give up on it now. Besides, he really likes welding and I have signed on as his wife to support him in anything he decides to do.
So please wish us well as we begin this phase of calling, faxing, emailing, chat posting and doing whatever else it takes to find a job and get settled in a town we can call home for a while. God has surely taken us on a bumpy ride these last ten months. Although we have never lost faith, we are ready to get out of the truck.
I'm so ready for this part of our life (the unemployed part) to be over. I am ready for a fresh start. The construction business is so crazy...one day you're in and the next day you're out. Hmmm, that sounds familiar, oh well, what I mean is that all it takes is a crossed eyed look at someone and you can be out the door looking for a job again (well maybe not that easy but close). I think if we had known this at the start, maybe Rick would have decided on another career. But, and there is always a but, Rick has so much invested in welding, education and equipment wise, that we can't give up on it now. Besides, he really likes welding and I have signed on as his wife to support him in anything he decides to do.
So please wish us well as we begin this phase of calling, faxing, emailing, chat posting and doing whatever else it takes to find a job and get settled in a town we can call home for a while. God has surely taken us on a bumpy ride these last ten months. Although we have never lost faith, we are ready to get out of the truck.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Please Feed My Fish
I did something interesting recently, something that opened up a whole new world for me…I clicked on the “Next Blog” link at the top of my blog page. I discovered other blog pages like mine, filled with others people’s thoughts and experiences. Some were very interesting, some not so much. Lots had to do with family, travel and cooking. What I noticed about many of these blogs was the way they looked…very decorative and creative. These blogs had links to sites that offered free backgrounds, banners, buttons and blinkies...just what my blog needed. Below is one of the things I found that I've added to my blog page. You just click inside the tank and the fish will swim and eat the food. How clever is that? Give it a try, but watch out, it can get addicting! [This feature has been removed]
I hope you like the new look of my blog page, but if you don't, that's ok. Who knows, the next time you visit it may look different again. Like I said, a whole new world has opened up for me and I'm having fun experimenting with all the possibilities.
I hope you like the new look of my blog page, but if you don't, that's ok. Who knows, the next time you visit it may look different again. Like I said, a whole new world has opened up for me and I'm having fun experimenting with all the possibilities.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now
We first met in January, 1988 at Sullivan’s, a country western bar in Orlando, Florida that was known for its very large dance floor. My roommate and I had taken dance classes to learn the two step and some line dances and we were at Sullivan’s practicing what we had learned. The rest of the people who had taken the class were also there. We were all dancing with one another and having a great time. About half way through the night Rick came and asked me to dance. I accepted and while we danced he told me his story: he was in Orlando working construction hanging fiberglass insulation, he was married with two kids who lived in Texas, and he was only here temporarily to earn some much needed money. That one dance was the extent of our interaction with each other until the following April.
In April, I was once again at Sullivan’s when Rick came and asked me to dance. I accepted. I didn’t recognize him at first as someone I had previously danced with so I asked him to tell me about himself. He told me he was in Orlando working construction hanging fiberglass insulation; he was divorced and had two kids who lived in Texas. I said, “Wait a minute. I think I’ve met you before a few months ago and you told me you were married.” He said that he was telling people that because he had a girlfriend back in Texas that he expected to go back to, but circumstances had changed and he decided to stay in Orlando for a while. Hmmm, sounded suspicious to me.
In the next couple of weeks, I saw Rick at Sullivan’s and we danced and talked a lot. He would always ask me, “When are you going to go out with me?” I just kept telling him, “I don’t know.” My roommate, Charlotte, told me, “Just go out with him. It’s not like you have to marry him.” It was the last week of April when he asked me the same question, “When are you going to go out with me?” and I replied, “When are you going to ask me?” So he immediately asked me if I would go out with him on the next Saturday, which was April 30th. I said, “Yes.” By the way, in 21 years of marriage, he has never failed to recognize the anniversary of our first date.
We went to dinner at The Sizzler. It was pouring down rain. Rick was a gentleman and opened all the doors for me. After dinner, we were supposed to go to the movies to see Good Morning Vietnam, but because of the rain we decided to go back to his apartment and watch TV. We watched the movie Wanted: Dead or Alive with actor Rutger Hauer. That night we had our first kiss and the rest is history. He told me he loved me nine days later and on July 2nd he asked me to marry him. I said yes. The words of my roommate came flooding back and we both laughed about it, and still do today.
I first met Rick’s parents when they drove to Orlando for a visit that summer. It was during that trip that I found out Rick’s mom and dad were married on February 3rd. All I could say was, “Oh wow, that’s the same day my mom and dad were married!” Yes, both our parents were married on the same day but just one year apart, my parents in 1949 and Rick’s parents in 1950. How kismet was that! It had to be fate that brought us together.
We were planning to be married sometime in June 1989; however, we decided that February 3rd would be a more meaningful date. What were the odds of both our parents being married on the same day? We had a small ceremony at our apartment with my brother Mike giving me away and our friends as witnesses. Our reception was at Sullivan’s where we had met. We danced our first dance to the song Groovy Kind of Love by Phil Collins, but OUR song will always be Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now by Jefferson Starship, which we first heard while watching the movie Mannequin. And that holds true for us today, after 21 years, nothing’s gonna stop us now.
Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now
Looking in your eyes I see a paradise.
This world that I found is too good to be true.
Standing here beside you, want so much to give you
this love in my heart that I’m feeling for you.
Let ‘em say we're crazy.
I don't care about that.
Put your hand in my hand, baby, don't ever look back.
Let the world around us just fall apart.
Baby we can make it if we're heart to heart.
And we can build this dream together,
standing strong forever, nothing's gonna stop us now.
And if this world runs out of lovers we'll still have each other.
Nothing's gonna stop us, nothing's gonna stop us now.
I'm so glad I found you, I'm not gonna lose you,
whatever it takes I will stay here with you.
Take it to the good times, see it through the bad times.
Whatever it takes is what I'm gonna do.
Let ‘em say we're crazy.
What do they know?
Put your arms around me, baby, don't ever let go.
Let the world around us just fall apart.
Baby we can make it if we're heart to heart.
And we can build this dream together,
standing strong forever, nothing's gonna stop us now.
And if this world runs out of lovers we'll still have eachother.
Nothing's gonna stop us, nothing's gonna stop us….
Oooo, all that I need is you.
All that I ever need.
And all that I want to do is hold you forever, ever and ever
And we can build this dream together,
standing strong forever, nothing's gonna stop us now.
And if this world runs out of lovers we'll still have eachother.
Nothing's gonna stop us, nothing's gonna stop us.
And we can build this dream together,
standing strong forever, nothing's gonna stop us now.
And if this world runs out of lovers we'll still have eachother.
Nothing's gonna stop us.
And we can build this dream together,
standing strong forever, nothing's gonna stop us now.
And if this world runs out of lovers we'll still have eachother.
Nothing's gonna stop us.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The Power of the Number Nine
Many years ago I took a class in marketing and heard about a different power of the number nine, a psychological power. Go in any store today and you will find items priced at $9.99 instead of $10.00, $59.99 instead of $60.00, and so on. They say when consumers see the price, the brain focuses mainly on the first part of the number. It sees $9.99 as $9.00 and not $10.00. I have done this myself. I wonder if it works the same with age.
Today at 8:20 a.m. I turned 59 years old. This will be the last year I can say I'm in my 50's. I know some people who still say they are 39, refusing to age one more year. There's something about starting a new decade that makes you want to do anything to try to avoid it. I think the only time it doesn't happen is when you are 9 or 19; then you can't wait to get to the next decade.
This whole thing about age is really all in your head. I still think of myself at times as 37, the age I was when I met Rick. It’s only when I look in the mirror that I’m brought back to reality. When I think back to the time when Jeffrey was born, I immediately become that young and naive nineteen year old girl again. You can travel all through your life in your mind by remembering how old you were when…and just fill in the blank. What a fascinating tool God blessed us with, our minds.
Mark Twain was quoted as saying, "Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter." I think I will listen to Mark Twain. It really doesn’t matter how old I get; I can’t stop it from happening, so why fret about it. I will savor my 59th year not because it’s the last year in my 50’s, but because of what it represents – another milestone in my life. I’ll take as many as God will give me and be thankful for each one.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
One Act of Random Kindness
Rick and I watched the movie Evan Almighty a couple of weeks ago on tv. It was pretty funny. At the end of the movie, after Evan and his family built the ark, saved all those people who were making fun of him, and all the bad men in Washington were arrested, God asked Evan, "How do we change the world?" Evan answers, "One single act of random kindness at a time." God replies, "One Act of Random Kindness," while writing A-R-K on the ground with a stick.
One act of random kindness -- that's what someone did for me yesterday.
I had an eye doctor appointment in the afternoon. Because of my diabetes, I try to see the eye doctor every year. I've been seeing blurry for a while now, but kept putting it off until we had insurance. I decided I couldn't wait any longer. I found Greenville Eye Care Associates online. Dr. Tucker was very thorough and friendly. As he worked we talked. I told him my story, that Rick has been out of work since last April, that we move around the country wherever the work will take us, and that we were here in Greenville so Rick could go to school to brush up on his pipe welding skills. Later after sitting with the person who helps you pick out eyeglasses, I told Dr. Tucker I couldn't purchase glasses from his office because I simply couldn't afford it right now. He said he understood. I felt bad because I had received a comprehensive eye exam and I was very satisfied with the services I received. When it came time for me to pay out, the lady behind the counter said, "You're all set. See you next time." I waved my debit card and said, "Aren't you forgetting something?" She said, "No, there is no charge for your services today." I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Tears welled up in my eyes as her words sunk in. Dr. Tucker had waived $160 worth of services. He didn't know me from Adam but had compassion for the situation I was in. What a sweet and very much appreciated A-R-K.
Being kind to someone should be a simple thing. I don't believe it requires much thought. I think it is a spontaneous action, something we do just because we know it's the right thing to do. We all could use and give a little more of it. Yesterday, I was blessed and I thank God there are kind people in the world like Dr. Tucker.
Being kind to someone should be a simple thing. I don't believe it requires much thought. I think it is a spontaneous action, something we do just because we know it's the right thing to do. We all could use and give a little more of it. Yesterday, I was blessed and I thank God there are kind people in the world like Dr. Tucker.
Getting back to Evan Almighty, there's something else God said that caught my attention. He said, "Let me ask you something. If someone prays for patience, do you think God gives them patience? Or does he give them the opportunity to be patient?" Today I will pray for opportunities to change my world one single Act of Random Kindness at a time. ARK has a different meaning for me now.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
I Wonder
My granddaughter, Lexi, will be fifteen on Tuesday. I started wondering how she looks now, all grown up. The last time I saw her was two years ago. Lots of changes occur between thirteen and fifteen. I know she will have a great birthday party planned by her family. I wonder who will be there and hate it that I can't be; San Diego is just too far for me to go right now. All this started me wondering about other people.
It's hard being isolated from friends and family. Not a day goes by that I don't wonder what everyone is doing and how they are. I visit my "friends" on Facebook, I email them and am thankful for their replies, I call periodically to get caught up; but it's not like being there, it's only a glimpse. I wonder when I will get to see them again. The "wonders" are piling up.
I wonder about my family. I wonder when Rick will get a job; he’s been unemployed since April, 2009. I wonder how well my mom is able to take care of herself, her home and her cats as she is almost 82 years old. I know she’s a strong woman, but I also know she’s getting old. I wish I could be there to help her. I wonder about the health of my brothers. I know they are getting older and must be feeling their age. My oldest brother, William, had a mini stroke last year. That was scary. I wonder how Debbie is coping since her mom went to Heaven. One day I will be in those same shoes. I wonder about Sandi as she goes through the process of getting divorced. I wonder if she knows what's in store for her. I know it will be hard because I've been through it twice, but does she know? I wonder if Jeffrey is losing weight like he said he would. We talked recently about how I was only one year older than he is now when I was diagnosed with diabetes. I wonder if he took our talk seriously and is doing something about it. I wonder if he will get diabetes. I'm afraid for him. I wonder about my step-sons, Wes and Kevin. I wonder if Wes, a linguist in the Navy, is happy living a military life. His next assignment will be on a submarine. I wonder how he really feels about that. I wonder if Kevin will ever speak to us again. He stopped about seven years ago and we don’t know why. He won’t answer calls or respond to letters. This might be my biggest wonder of all.
I wonder about myself too. I wonder what color my hair would be if I didn’t dye it (I’m just wondering, not ready to stop doing it yet…you go Debbie). I wonder if I will be successful at losing weight. I wonder if I will need knee surgery or if weight loss will alleviate the pain. I wonder what my life would have been like if I had taken that $90/week job with the State of New York back in 1970 and not the $100/week job I did take with a manufacturing company that later went bankrupt. I wonder if that $10/week difference in pay was all it took to lead me down this path I’m on. It doesn’t seem like very much to me. I have no regrets about how my life turned out; I just wonder sometimes what would have been different if I had taken a different road.
There are lots of other people I wonder about, people from my past and people in my life today. I am hoping 2010 will be a better year for me and I will be able to cross off my list some of these things I am wondering about. All this wondering is hurting my brain.
It's hard being isolated from friends and family. Not a day goes by that I don't wonder what everyone is doing and how they are. I visit my "friends" on Facebook, I email them and am thankful for their replies, I call periodically to get caught up; but it's not like being there, it's only a glimpse. I wonder when I will get to see them again. The "wonders" are piling up.
I wonder about my family. I wonder when Rick will get a job; he’s been unemployed since April, 2009. I wonder how well my mom is able to take care of herself, her home and her cats as she is almost 82 years old. I know she’s a strong woman, but I also know she’s getting old. I wish I could be there to help her. I wonder about the health of my brothers. I know they are getting older and must be feeling their age. My oldest brother, William, had a mini stroke last year. That was scary. I wonder how Debbie is coping since her mom went to Heaven. One day I will be in those same shoes. I wonder about Sandi as she goes through the process of getting divorced. I wonder if she knows what's in store for her. I know it will be hard because I've been through it twice, but does she know? I wonder if Jeffrey is losing weight like he said he would. We talked recently about how I was only one year older than he is now when I was diagnosed with diabetes. I wonder if he took our talk seriously and is doing something about it. I wonder if he will get diabetes. I'm afraid for him. I wonder about my step-sons, Wes and Kevin. I wonder if Wes, a linguist in the Navy, is happy living a military life. His next assignment will be on a submarine. I wonder how he really feels about that. I wonder if Kevin will ever speak to us again. He stopped about seven years ago and we don’t know why. He won’t answer calls or respond to letters. This might be my biggest wonder of all.
I wonder about myself too. I wonder what color my hair would be if I didn’t dye it (I’m just wondering, not ready to stop doing it yet…you go Debbie). I wonder if I will be successful at losing weight. I wonder if I will need knee surgery or if weight loss will alleviate the pain. I wonder what my life would have been like if I had taken that $90/week job with the State of New York back in 1970 and not the $100/week job I did take with a manufacturing company that later went bankrupt. I wonder if that $10/week difference in pay was all it took to lead me down this path I’m on. It doesn’t seem like very much to me. I have no regrets about how my life turned out; I just wonder sometimes what would have been different if I had taken a different road.
There are lots of other people I wonder about, people from my past and people in my life today. I am hoping 2010 will be a better year for me and I will be able to cross off my list some of these things I am wondering about. All this wondering is hurting my brain.
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