Friday, March 28, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Blondie tagged me to come up with a six word memoir. I've pondered and thought and pondered some more over this one for several weeks. Here's the best I have (and it's not 6 words. Sorry Blondie) :
"I always choke under pressure."
My other tag is to write 5 things about myself. I've done this one before. You can read it here and here.
1. My Dad once performed successful reconstructive plastic surgery on my pet gerbil because somehow I had pulled the skin off of his tail leaving just the exposed bone. I was heart broken, but the gerbil survived and lived a long full life with only a stub of a tail. My Mom on the other hand, threatened to wring my Dad's neck for performing the procedure on her kitchen counter using her sewing kit. *
2. I don't like green peas. Can't even look at them or smell them. Yuck.
3. I was more excited than my kids were at watching our tadpoles grow in a giant pickle jar. (Until they became cannibalistic. The tadpoles, not my kids.)
4. I've never watched an entire Star Wars movie, ever. What was with Princess Leia's hair anyway?! Just not my kind of movie, even if Harrison Ford was cute back then.
5. When I was a kid, I once hid my green peas under my plate so I wouldn't have to eat them. Refer to #2. (Sorry Mom, you probably knew it, but thanks for letting me slide this time. At least I didn't do surgical procedures on your countertops.)
The glam was replaced by a dirt road about a million miles or so from anywhere, chickens and cows and the fragrant smells that accompany them, and an entire dialect and accent which I'm sure is English, but one I'm still trying to learn to translate. [While I've yet to hear someone around here say the word "vittles" ala Beverly Hillbillies, I have found out some words have entirely different meanings. In the glam world, a "boot" is something one wears on her feet; here, it's the space in the back of your car where you store luggage, ie. "trunk". Go figure?!] Eventually this new glam included mountains of diapers, strep throat marathons, very little sleep, gangs of deer thugs who aren't afraid to rumble with the best of the mini-vans (and my left fender is living proof of that), party lines (yes, the phone kind of party line, not the dancing kind), gremlins in the DSL line, bats, rabid skunks, and stalker cats named Friendly. And for a couple of years I spent so much time at our pediatrician's office that they must have thought that I was an employee. Rush hour now means running out at break-neck speeds to our only grocery store before it closes to grab poster board because one of my kids just remembered a project which happens to be due the next morning. But my new life also included long, lazy carefree walks in the woods with our kids (and stopping to smell the roses along the way), watching wild turkeys, listening to crickets and whippoorwills at night, blackberry picking, lizard hunting, star gazing, mud puddle splashing, firefly catching, tadpole raising, and countless tea parties. I've never regretted the choice. I never even looked back, unless I was making sure I didn't have baby puke running down my shoulder.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
On Saturday there were reports of tornadoes spotted all around our little town and we were under several different tornado warnings throughout the day. So I spent most of the day glued to our weather radio. It didn't help that 2 of my kids were in 2 other areas where the tornado warnings were being issued also and I was stuck at home with the weather radio -- one was with a friend at a track meet, and the other was at work at a golf course. They're both fine and were able to find shelter before any really bad weather came their way. Thankfully, most everyone around here only experienced some strong winds and lots of hail, and one church not far away lost a roof.
Our hearts go out today to those west and south of us where the damage appears to have been much worse.
Our little community experienced a direct hit from a tornado a few years ago--it's really amazing and frightening how much damage can occur in just a few seconds. I was in my car and actually saw it go over head and didn't realize what I was witnessing. I remember looking at a grove of pine trees and marveling at how far they are able to bend with the wind--Duh! It was only later that I realized what had happened when I saw trees down, mangled metal wrapped around an electric pole, a tractor trailer overturned, a path of woods mowed down like grass, roofs off of many buildings, and the home of one of my neighbors completely gone. Fortunately, there were no serious injuries in our area. And everyone rallied around those whose property was most affected. So many folks helped and I didn't even see my husband for close to 3 days, because within minutes after the storm cleared he (and so many others) and his truck and his chain saw went to work clearing trees and debris.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Annette of Huckleberry Arts gave me this award a few days ago. The rules for the “You Make My Day” award are to re-present it to those whose blogs bring you happiness and inspiration and make you feel happy about blog land. Let them know through email or by posting a comment on their blog so they can pass it on. Beware you may get the award several times, and if you do, consider yourself really, really loved.
I'd like to pass it along to a couple of ladies I've met recently through the blog world. One is Niki at Jo Kaniki's and another is Marilyn at The Cutest Cottage Lamps. I hope you'll find time to stop by their blogs for a fun treat-- they are both very talented!
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Last summer my dad bought my family a golf cart. We have a lot of land to ride it on and he said it would be easier to get around. About the second day we had it, I was giving my little sister driving lessons--things like how to brake, how to steer, when to brake. I had just told her that she needed to slow down on this one hill because we don't know if my mom or dad's car is parked at the bottom. I don't think she listened to me though, because she went really fast and the next thing I knew was BAM. We had hit my dad's car! We sat still for a second, then I went to get my mom. My sister started crying. My mom told me to go get my dad. [Editor's note: Yep, that's what I did--surveyed the crunched bumper, then promptly sent for the Big Guy to handle it. After all, he's the one who gave the golf cart to them anyway, and then in perfect wisdom decided to let our 12 year old teach our 9 year old how to drive. Stellar. Or. . . maybe it was just payback for letting a "moth" into the house. ~c.n.] I told him that mom wanted him outside, quickly. He didn't know about the accident. When we got outside, and my sister saw him, her eyes got huge, and she ran up to him crying, "I didn't mean to, Daddy!" She went on and on. My dad was so confused he didn't know what had happened and why she was crying so much. He began to laugh, until I told him what happened. He looked at the wreck and I backed up the golf cart for him. His bumper was dented and the golf cart's windshield fell off, but he was glad that we weren't hurt. You may think I'm crazy, but I still let my sister drive me around. I think she learned her lesson. At least, I think.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Which reminds me of an incident early in the Friendly Occupation of the Nash house. If you remember, I had quite a handful of kids born about 7 years apart and Friendly was a stray cat who "found" us and lured my husband into bringing him home by pretending to be "friendly." In that time there was never a dull moment, and for close to 12 years I cannot remember a single day when I was in our house completely alone--ever. So, on the very first day of my new-found independence, when my youngest was finally old enough to go to kindergarten, I decided to have a little "me" time and savor a long, long, long hot uninterrupted shower. No one banging on the door to ask me something very important like "Where's the milk?" or to tell me that someone was bleeding, or that someone was cleaning the toilet with my toothbrush. I almost felt guilty. . . almost. As I was just finishing the luxury of actually completing the "repeat" part of the lather, rinse, repeat cycle of my shampooing (something I can't say I was able to do very much for those 12 years prior), I opened my eyes to see the shower curtain suddenly begin throbbing toward me reminiscent of the shower scene from the Hitchcock thriller Pyscho. Imagine water and shampoo and arms and legs and slipping and sliding and my heart skipping about 18 beats as I screamed. I cannot tell you all the thoughts that flashed through my mind, but when I was finally able check to see if I was still alive, and carefully peek outside the curtain-- there sat Friendly in all his smugness, something like the picture above. Somehow in all the hustle and bustle of getting four kids and one husband dressed and out the door on the first day of school, he'd sneaked into the house and decided to keep me "company."
Very big of him.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
And I think my daughter summed it up when I asked her if she was ready to go shopping : "Dude, [she calls me "Dude" sometimes, even though she knows I'm not a dude.] that's what I want. . .to look like a mugger with a massive tumor on my panyhose-clothed face. Lovely. Just lovely. I give it a solid 10!"