I Should Write a Book

Happy Birthday, Lindy

Today is my sister's birthday.  Have I told you yet about my sister?  (Do I sound like Aunt Rita, or what?  "My sister"!)  No?  Well, let's see---mmmm---what can I tell you?  For starters, she is absolutely the best sister in the world and I love her with my whole heart.  I've always looked up to her and she has always been there for me.

We are as different as night and day.  She is tall, dark hair and eyes.  I am short, light hair and eyes.  She is very domestic and crafty--I'm not.  She loves to cook---not me!  She is organized--I don't even what that means!  She's adventurous---I'm so not.  She's southern--I'm northern.  She's older---I'm younger!  (Had to throw that in!)  She's very thoughtful and remembers birthdays and such--I don't.

We also have things in common.  We have the same parents, a brother, husbands, children, grandchildren.  We used to share clothes---Mom would make them for her, and then "doctor them up" for me.  People tell us we sound alike on the phone.  We both like Dancing With the Stars and Survivor, and many other programs.  Most of all, we love and respect each other.

In Baldwinsville, one day while Mamie was babysitting, Lindy pushed me off the porch---I don't remember why but I tend to think it was an accident, as she insisted at the time!  Anyway, I bit my tongue half off and can still show you the scar!  Lindy was so upset and afraid for me---there was a lot of blood. 

She and cousin Tommy had a "snake farm".  I think it was a converted chicken coop that they put a bunch of probably garden or garter snakes in and then charged everyone a nickel to go inside to see them.  At times, you could see them changing their skins, and then it became a dime to go in!  But she always let me go in for free, probably because I fought her battles for her.  If she got into an argument or anything, she would always threaten to "get my sister" and that would usually end it.  Apparently, I was MEAN and struck fear into her friends.

Also in Baldwinsville, we had cats and Lindy had to feel them in the basement.  I recall one nite, she took me with her cause the power was out from a storm and she was afraid to go alone.  We had a flashlight, of course, so there were shadows everywhere and she thought she saw something move and took off on a dead run, leaving me in the dust.  Poor Lindy ran smack dab into a support beam and cut her head open---scared me silly. 

Still in Baldwinsville, but now on State Fair Blvd.;  at the road, on either side of the driveway, were pillars.  She and I would sit on them and wave at cars passing by and just loved doing it.  Imagine doing that today.  It just wouldn't happen.  At one point, Mom and Dad were taking a trip and the 3 of us were to stay with neighbors.  Well!  Lindy threw such a fit that they actually came back and got her and let her go with them.  I was just devestated---she got to go and I didn't. 

While visiting Aunt Ellen and Uncle Bill one day, we cousins devised a (stupid) game where one of us would lay in the sandbox and someone else would get on a step-ladder and jump over us!  It was all fun and games till poor Lindy jumped on my stomach and knocked the wind out of me.  She thought she had killed me and ran away.  Not far away!  About 5 feet into a cornfield where she stayed for about 5 minutes and them came out to see that I was fine.  She hugged me and cried---we were all in trouble for playing such a dumb game.

When we went shopping with Mom which, as kids, was far too often, Lindy would just up and talk to complete strangers, much to Mom's embarrassment.  If she saw something interesting, like the day we saw the lady with a child whose legs were in casts, she would just go and ask the person about it.  In that case, she asked, she said, because our cousin, Tommy, also lived in leg casts for a long time.  And then there was the woman with no nose---really, I kid you not---she had no nose.  Lindy, of course, asked her all about it.  No fear of strangers.

We moved to South Otselic.  Our beds in our shared bedroom faced the moose head hanging on the stairwell wall.  It's fake, glass eyes eerily glowed right at me and Lindy would tell me it would come and get me if I didn't go right to sleep or do something she wanted me to do.  I HATED that moose.

A couple of times, she actually let me go with her on a date, always day-time dates, of course.  I don't know if she really wanted me to go (I'm pretty sure her dates didn't!) or if Mom asked her to take me.  In any case, altho I know I embarrassed her to death, I really enjoyed those dates!!

Years later now.  She is married and has two sons.  Once she took Jimmy water skiing alone and wrecked the boat---hard to drive and spot all  at the same time and she knew she shouldn't do it.  She ended up driving the boat right into the rocks.  It really scared me when I heard about it---I kept thinking of what could have happened.

She has also done the whatever it's called, where you go into a tube like thing and float in space.  No way would I ever do that but she will do almost anything at least once.  I admire that.  As I said, she is adventurous.  I'm not. 

Her older son is a pilot and from time to time he will fly her North for a visit.  They arrive in this little tinker-toy plane that, people let me tell right now, I would NOT get into. Well, I couldn't anyway,  the darn thing is too small for 3 people!!  Can you even imagine??  It's so scary for me.  But, thank goodness it isn't for her cause it means I get to see her a little more often.

He flew her up here just last weekend for Skip's daughter's "bar-b-que" wedding and it was wonderful being with her, Skip and other family members.  It was great to see Chris and meet his wife and baby daughter.  So, Michael, keep up your pilot's license and fly her here more often!

You know, I could go on and on.  I have a million memories of growing up with Lindy, and even more since we have become adults.  Adults?  Adults??  When we are together, we revert to giggly little girls again, and laugh and laugh all the time---that's half the fun. 

She is my best friend  and I love her so much.   Happy Birthday, Lindy!!

Rain

I'm pretty sure we are in for one heck of a rainstorm very soon.  Earlier, I decided to take a shower so I could wash my hair.  Takes me a while to get ready, but finally I got in.  And looked down.  There, as big as a 747, was a black spider, heading right for my feet!  As most of you know, I HATE and FEAR spiders---ANY spider, no matter how big or how small.  And here I was, enclosed in this tiny space (anyone who has seen my shower knows how small it is) cornered!  Of course, I didn't have my air, so I began to have some breathing trouble---nothing too serious, but none-the-less!  After what seemed like hours, but was no doubt only seconds, I got out the door, screaming.  Mike was at work so he was no help!  I ran, dripping wet, into the kitchen for a glass, praying that the darn thing would still be there so I wouldn't have to worry about where he was.  It WAS still there, and still crawling.  It took about 4 glasses of hot water to get it down the drain, and about 20 more to be sure it would STAY down the drain.  Then, I sat for a while to catch my breath, and got back in.  The water in the shower ran for probably 20 minutes or so.........I was in it for about 1 minute.  Long enough to wash my hair and get out, all the time watching the drain.  I go in every now and then, but I haven't spotted it since, and, believe me, it was certainly big enough that if it was still around, I WOULD see it!  So, I'm getting out the umbrella and rain coat, cause I have a hair appointment tomorrow and I'm pretty sure I will need them.   How was your day?

Gramp

One of my first memories of Gramp is that I was afraid of him!  I really don't know why, can't put my finger on it, but I was afraid of him.  Our family moved in with Gramp and Gram when I was nine and my fear of him completely disappeared---I learned that he was a kind and loving man and grandfather. 

Most of my memories of him are scattered.  I remember him stoking the coal furnace; keeping the coal stove filled; chewing tobacco and spitting into the coal stove (GROSS!); his pockets filled with hard candy (he was diabetic); his friend, Dr. Mott Crumb; his feebleness; amputated toes; some of his expressions---"Close the door!  What?  Were you raised in a barn" or "cheese factory" or whatever came to his mind; "Never did that in MY day"; "Ethel, what in tarnation happened?"; "What were you thinking!"

Gramp owned or ran a cheese factory at one point.  There was usually a block of cheese sitting on our counter, put there to "cure".  You couldn't eat cheese until it was covered in mold and had aged.  He did make good cheese and I know he was responsible for my love of very strong cheese. 

He also owned a knife company but I know very little about it, so I won't go into it here.  Lindy, Skip?  Can you guys elaborate on that?

The thing I remember most of Gramp is his wood-working.   He was a master craftsman and could do anything with wood.  He had a shop on the second floor of the garage (or carriage house, as he called it and I guess that is what it was at one time---it was huge!) and I can still smell the wood shavings, see the floor covered in sawdust, and Gramp at the saw, or sander, or lathe, or any of his many tools of the trade.  I love those memories.  There was an intercom between the house and his shop and I always loved to be the one to use it to call him to dinner.  (We, as kids, used to play with that intercom a lot.  It was a fun toy for us.)  Gramp made a lot of furniture, among many other things, in that shop.  He made a dining table out of birch for all of his grand-daughters and cherry ones for his grand-sons.  I will cherish mine forever.  I had lamps he had made but I used them so often both ended up on fire, at different times, and had to be tossed.  I also have the napkin holder I think we all have, a bookcase, and bedside tables.  He made an entire dining room for my aunt because she asked for it for payment.  She had helped my Grandmother take care of things when my Dad was in high school --she had broken her wrist--and it was beautiful.  I could say a little more about that, but not here.  His wood working skills were second to none and still would be today if he were here to continue it. 

He had a roll top desk in the "office".  I loved that desk---Skip has it now so it is still in the family, thank goodness.  It is huge!  We used to hide in it when playing hide and seek.  It is filled with cubby holes and drawers and fun things.  Did he make it?  I don't know---did he, Skip?

I remember one meal where Gramp had fresh, homemade horseradish and encouraged us to eat it.  I didn't; Lindy did.  Remember that?  I don't think he realized the effect it would have, or at least, I hope he didn't.  If he did, it was a mean thing to do and I don't remember him as mean.

As I said before, Gramp had sugar diabetes and always had candy filled pockets, which he was willing to share.  He had toes amputated but handled it all well.  Later in life, he bacame quite feeble and used a walker to get around.  However, at one point, he had a stroke, or some kind of episode, and became pretty spry.  He also became very senile and thought he was living in a hotel.  Gram was the maid and Mom was the cook, both of whom he had "problems" with.  He tried to call the better business people in Washington to complain, but, of course, he never did get through.  The rest of us were also guests in the hotel.  (A side note here---this whole thing was very hard on Grama and took it's toll on her.  She was so sad and upset.)  He did and said some pretty outlandish things during this time; so very much unlike him.  Anyway, these things are also for another post.

Gramp was a good man.  He had a good sense of humor---I can still see that half-grin he displayed when he was kidding with us.  Oh, he could yell when he felt it was necessary.  But he was always there for all of us.  He loved his family first and foremost, and we loved him.  Rest in peace, Gramp!

Just to see if anyone is looking................

Ok, you all!   Please write 10 one word responces to the letter  A.

Fall

As I sit here looking outside at all of the gorgeous Fall colors, I am actually feeling the chill, smelling, and hearing the crunch of those long-ago maple tree leaves in South Otselic.  Our sidewalk-driveway was lined with those big, beautiful trees and every Fall it was our (LIndy, Skip, Me) job to rake all those fallen leaves up and drag them to the creek in big tarps.  (Can you even imagine tossing all of those leaves into a creek today??  Man, what problems THAT would cause!)  Of course, before we got rid of them, we would make cool forts, elegant homes, and enormous "jump into" piles of leaves.  Sometimes, not often, we even burned a few out behind the garage, with parental contro, of course, and tried to roast marshmallows.  I also remember choosing the most beautifully colored leaves to preserve in sheets of wax paper--remember how we would iron them and then save them?  They wouldn't last too long but it was a good Fall project and we enjoyed doing it.  Once in a while, Mom, Dad, and/or Grama (before she broke her hip)  would come out and help, or play, with us.  We always had to look for worms or little critters in all those raked up leaves.  Occasionally, we would actually find a little, tiny grass or garter snake but you would have sworn it was a rattler or cobra, with all the screaming and running away!  Mostly me, and I STILL scream and run when I see a snake.  After we finished playing and getting rid of leaves for the day, we would go inside, get out of our smelly, dirty sweatshirts and enjoy a cup of cocoa with marshmallow creme that Mom would have ready for us.  Yup, Fall, with of the colors and memories was great time of year for us.  I loved those trees and miss not having them here.  My own kids missed out on a lot of fun making memories, and altho I'm sure they have their memories, they just can't be as great as mine.  I do miss those days. 

But, of course, Fall days here are very beautiful, as well, with the mountains of trees of all kinds and colors.  I can't even find the right words to describe their beauty---I only wish they would hold on to their beauty for a little longer than they do.  'Cause once they are gone, things look so bare and uninviting.....until we get the first good, blanket-ing snow storm.  But, wait, that's another story............

Hi Dad, Happy Belated Father's Day! I love you.

My Dad was born on August 6, 1915, the youngest of 3 boys (Mom was born on August 26, 1915, the oldest of 3 girls---just a "fun" fact!).  He went to school in Manilus and Cornell and became an architect--a darn good one.  As luck would have it, my children went to a school that he designed, while working for a company in Syracuse.  Small world.

I have many memories of Dad, some my own, some other people's.  He had a really wonderful singing voice, reminiscent of Frank Sinatra, and I have the recordings to prove it.  He sang a song to me "Nancy Lee" and one to my sister, "Lindy Sue"--we both cherish those songs.  I don't listen to them often but every once in a blue moon I do, and I am blown away by his voice, evey time.  An aside:  a few weeks after he died, a cousin brought these records to our house (we didn't even know she had them) and played one very loudly.  I can't tell you how upsetting this was to us all, but especially to my grandmother.  I can still hear her scream.  My cousin thought we would be pleased to hear my Dad's voice again, but she just didn't think it through.  It was too soon and too unexpected.

As mentioned, Dad had 2 older brothers.  His oldest one, Audley, developed polio as a young husband and father of 3 and lived the rest of his life in an iron lung-----many, many years.  It was how my parents met---Mom was Uncle Audley's private nurse--another story for another time.  Anyway, my uncle's family had had a beagle named Susie who had literally saved his life more than once.  She would bark to wake up my  aunt when the power would go out at nite so she could turn on the generator to keep the iron lung going.  When Susie got old and sick and was in much pain, my uncle turned to my Dad to put her out of her misery, as he just couldn't stand to see her suffering.  This was before there were any vets nearby.  Dad did not want to do it, but he loved his brother and did eventually agree.  When he got home that evening, he was visibly upset---he loved that dog, too.  My uncle died by drowning in his own fluids.  It was a very sad time for the entire family.

Dad had a good sense of humor.  He rigged up a hammer to a string once and attached the hammer end to the outside doorknob of the family room.  He threaded the other end thru a window in the living room and would pull it every now and then.  We, of course, were terrified and ran to him to tell him someone was banging on the door.  As any good father would, he "checked out" the situation and came back to tell us all was clear--who or whatever it was had run off.  Relieved, we returned to watch TV and yup--it began again.  Took us a while to figure that one out.

In our living room was an alcove-like indent in the wall.  One time, a couple of high school guys, who had a crush on Lindy, were peeking through the windows hoping, I guess, to get a glimse of her.  Dad, who had been in the garage, saw them, snuck up on them, tapped them on the shoulders and asked "Got a match?"  Apparently those two boys broke all the running records in South Otselic---there was a rumor that they also broke the sound barrier, screaming like little girls.

I don't really remember a lot before we moved to South Otselic, but one vivid memory I do have is when we lived on State Fair Blvd. in Baldwinsville.  Every Friday nite, Dad would bring home shrimp, haddack, FF's, coleslaw and sardines and we would all sit around the TV and watch the Friday Nite Fights!  I loved the sardines, until I discovered what they really were---haven't touched one since.  Anyway, I remember those Friday nites with love and affection---they were such a part of Dad.

Back in So. Ot.  Dad loved to sit on the screened in porch and listen the thunder storms.  He loved the sound of the rain hitting the roof--it was a favorite thing of his and one I never shared with him as I was (and still am) afraid of lightening.  Sometimes, when it's stormy, I can just picture him on that porch.

Dad worked for an architect firm on Erie Blvd. in Syracuse.  Mom stopped in there one day to see him and left Grama in the car---she didn't want to go in.  The car was on a slight incline and began to roll back.  A co-worker saw it and ran out to stop the car---Gram wasn't even upset.  She thought it was funny that the trees were moving but figured her eyes were playing tricks on her.  Needless to say, Dad never lived that one down at work.  (Nor did Mom!)

The summer I was 13, I think, our family and the Lally's (aunt, uncle, and cousins) loaded up our brand new travel trailers and headed to Florida for a fun summer vacation!  It was quite an experience.  I can now imagine how horrible it must have been for Mom and Dad, never having driven and pulled a thing like that behind them.  But, as kids, we enjoyed it---mostly.  At one park, all of us kids were swimming and saw what turned out to be dolphins but we, of course, being so worldly and sophisticated, started screaming "SHARKS!" on the top of our lungs, while running out of the water.  The swimming area cleared in about a second.  We really did think they were sharks, but the park people had no sympathy for us and asked that we stay away from the beach!  Can you even imagine being so mean??  Like, we were the ONLY kids who EVER mistook a dolphin for a shark.  At any rate, we went to a different park and while there, we took a day trip to sight-see.  Upon returning, we saw that our trailer door was open and a lot of our stuff was out on the sand. Mom, bless her, thought it was so nice that they "go in clean" while you are out for the afternoon, when what really happened was, there was a short in the stove and it caught on fire.  The park people broke in and put it out, saving the trailer from complete ruin.  There are more stories of this trip, but let me just say that even with the mishaps, this was a good and fun trip for us--our last as a family of 5.

We usually went to Canada to fish---Dad loved to fish and so did Mom.  The three of us, not so much.  Our trip there, Dad would look for a house with lots of cars and people outside---a party of some sort--and say he was going to stop in for lunch.  He would tell us we would just have to act natural, find the buffet, eat and then go back to the car.  We kids thought it was funny but there a method to his madness.  It kept us busy looking for "that"  house and time passed quicker for us.

When Dad decided to trade cars, about every two years, he just did it and then drove the new one home.  Mom would think we had company and tell us to hurry and pick everything up before they got to the door!  Dad always got a charge out of that.  Mom didn't!

Dad died on February 21st, 1961.  He was 45 years young.  He died way too soon and I miss him.  I'm so sorry my children never knew him.  He would have loved them and they would have adored him.  I only had him for 15 years and feel cheated, but they were good years and I do have many memories of him.

We all have our memories of Dad and I would love to hear yours, Lindy and Skip. I imagine they are very different from mine (some even of the same event) .  I could probably talk about him all day, but this is enough for now.

I love you, Dad.  I miss you.

Gram

My grandmother, Ethel, would have been 133 years old on April 7th. She was born in 1877 and named Ethel May but somewhere along the way, she changed it to Ethel Pearl.  She had only brothers who always would say, "Ethel May do the dishes" or "Ethel May do the cleaning" and so on.  She hated that so she changed her name--no one knows for sure if it was legally changed but she was known as Ethel Pearl for most of her life.  She was a wonderful, sweet and genteel woman and we all considered ourselves lucky to have had her.  She died in 1971 at 94 years old but I think of her often.

Our family moved in with my grandparents when I was 9 years old and I lived there until I married.  Their home was a big, beautiful Victorian house with a wrap-around porch, slate roof, huge elaborate staircase, no real closets but a huge "secret" room under the stairs and a bench seat with storage opposite the ornate front door.  It had 4 bedrooms, living and dining rooms, kitchen, summer kitchen turned into a den by my Dad, big screened-in back porch, laundry room, an office with a huge roll top desk that we used to hide in, a full attick, 1 1/2 baths, and a big 3 car, two story "carriage" house (where Gramps wood-working room was).  There was a good sized yard with maple trees in front and evergreens in back.  A really beautiful home, located in a go nowhere, small town, a town we loved and still have great friends in, or nearby. 

Lindy and I shared a bedroom that faced the moose head mounted in the stairway--it scared the beejesus out of me and always seemed to be "looking" right at me. Lindy kept telling it was and I believed it!

Anyway, getting back to Gram--she was a lady through and through.  I never saw her in anything other than a dress---no jeans or pants for her ever, even when she did yard work.  Always a dress.  She curled her hair every morning with a curling iron she heated over an oil lamp.  She cooked on a coal stove--and what a cook she was!  Her boiled dinner was, without doubt, the best ever!  And never will you ever taste a pie, or pie crust (made with lard) as fabulous as hers.  Things were measured by "this much of this" or "that much of that"--no measuring cups or spoons in HER kitchen.  Amazing, when you think about it.  Sometimes, she cooked with 3 T meat (can't tell you here what 3 T stands for, and believe me, you don't want to know!) and it was always delicious--until I was old enough to be told what it stood for.  Now, I KNEW it wasn't really what she said it was (was it??!!), but I never again did eat any of it.  As she got older and her eyesight started to "fail" her, gram washed dishes  "by feel" and she was always certain that we could "dry off" whatever she may miss getting clean.

There was a georgeous curved picture window in the dining room where Gram would sit in her rocker for hours in front of.  She would watch the "goings on" out that window and would report what she saw--"There goes Harmon (her son) to work" or "Here comes Adelaide" ( her daughter-in-law). We always knew what was happening downtown.  (Once, Mike and I were home for a weekend with our German Shepard, Thunder, who protected Grama with his life.  She loved him and would sit in that rocker, watching downtown and feeding Thunder cheese-its. They both loved cheese-its!  My uncle tried to come in on Saturday afternoon when the rest of us were outside, and Thunder, a good watchdog and great protector, grabbed his arm and wouldn't let him in the house.  After we explained to my visibly upset Grama that the dog was merely protecting HER, she thought he was the best dog ever!  She said something like, "Can you imagine a dog protecting old lady me?" 

Grama had 3 sons and she figured that was why she was partial to boys.  She made a point of letting Lindy and me know that she loved us, too, with her whole heart, but she just knew more about raising boys.  Skip got away with murder around her, but only if Mom wasn't right there!   Now, it's funny.  One son, my Uncle Audley, her oldest son, had polio as a young man and lived in an iron lung for many, many years.  It was how my parents met--Mom was his private nurse--lots of stories there, for another time.  Grama outlived 2 of her sons, my Dad, and Uncle Audley, her husband (Grampa---more stories for later!), and her friends.  She was never morbid but often wondered why she was still around but her sons weren't.  We told her it was because we needed her so very much.  I think she liked that and, of course, it was true.

She was quite the singer, my Gram!  Even at an advanced age she loved to sing, and she never really lost it.  Her voice was so clear and I loved to listen to her.  She would sit in that rocker, watch the outside world  (and downtown) and sing and hum.  I'm certain that Dad got his amazing voice from her.

Grama LOVED Elvis Presley and was forever asking me to play my records of him.  I loved him, too, so I didn't mind at all.  She got to know a lot of his songs and sang them well.  She watched the Beatles on Ed Sullivan the first time they were on and declared that "those Beagles really aren't vey good.  Certainly not as good as Elvis!"  I'd be willing to bet that Gram was Elvis' oldest fan!

As I have said, she was a lady.  She loved iced tea, and didn't really like milk in it, but always put it in so no one would think she was drinking beer.  She tried to be prim and proper but she had a wicked sense of humor at the same time.  Once, when I had a few college friends home with me for the weekend, we were debating on what to do that evening.  Grama piped up with, "Why not take them to see Mr. D?  I bet they've never seen a man sit down to pee."  I  was horrified!  (Mr. D. was gay).  But it was funny, and darned if we didn't go see him!

Every day after school there would be jello with whipped cream, or Jimmy's, or chocolate cookies with white icing (never frosting--always icing) waiting for us.  For a while in high school, I wanted to gain weight--I was so skinny--so she made me this concoction of cream, milk, vanilla , kind of like a milkshake, and told me to drink a pitcher of it a day.  I did, for a while, but it was so sicky sweet that I got to a point where I couldn't even look at it!   And, by the way, I didn't gain an ounce!

On the back porch (the screened-in one) we had an old, workable hand pump that produced the best and coldest water in the whole world.  There was also a set mouse trap there and every morning, like clockwork, Gram stepped in it.  (She was never hurt as she was always in too-big slippers).  So, every morning, and I can still hear her, she would go to the bottom of the stairs and yell up, "Kippy, stepped in another mouse trap."  My brother would come down and get it off her slipper.  I think she did it on purpose to get him out of bed in the morning.

Yup, my Grama was a character!  I love remembering her and thinking of her. My aunt used to tell me that I resemble her--what a compliment!

Wow, this kind of went on and on--longer than I planned, so I will stop here and write again another day.  Memories, memories!

Christmas

Christmas is almost here, and altho I don't know how how it arrived so fast, for once, I feel ready; gifts are bought and wrapped, cards are sent, house is cleaned (well, sort of), the tree is up and decorated, some of the house is decorated, candles are in the windows, food is bought, some baking is finished and more will be done next week---all that is missing is my family.  I don't think anyone would disagree that in this life there is nothing more important than family and I, of course, have the absolute best, most supportive, happiest, nicest, greatest, and, sometimes, frustrating family ever.  They are ALL gems.  Most of you reading this will most certainly agree, since most of you ARE my family (and I include you, Carrie, and your family in mine!).  Christmas is the time for togetherness and I only wish that my ENTIRE family could be here, but I thank the Good Lord for those who will be. The rest WILL be here in my heart.  I include not only my immediate family members, but also my sister, brother, all in-laws, nieces, nephews and friends.  I would just love a time when we could all get together, either at Christmas or maybe in the summer--what a gift THAT would be!  In the meantime, I wish all of you a Merry Christmas, and a very Happy, Healthy New Year.  Kiss your kids, hug your spouse and always remember those no longer with us.  Love to you all.

Travels With Mom

We went on a road trip to North Carolina this past week and altho the trip itself was uneventful, it made me think of trips with Mom----which were anything BUT uneventful!  It never mattered the length of the trip, the routine was always the same, with a few variations.

Say she and I planned to go to Sue and Steve's on Tuesday.  Today is Thursday.

Thursday, Day 1:  Plan route (I know this already, but I humor her.  She did so love to get out the maps that neither of us could read and pretend to figure it all out.)  Start the laundry.

Friday, Day 2:  Go to the mall for a "few things"--more underwear, a new outfit, shampoo; just a mish mash of stuff.  Finish laundry.

Saturday, Day 3:  Go back to the mall to return the new outfit--the color isn't right in "real" light.  Start packing the suitcase.

Sunday, Day 4:  Go to the grocery store for bread, turkey, ham, cheese, pb and jam, chips, drinks, oranges and grapes. Be sure to get enough to feed an army.  Go home and separate the grapes from the stems, peel and section oranges.  Put them all in zip lock bags with some ice to keep them fresh. Refrigerate.  Finish packing.  Let me think:  we need cuddle duds, several sweatsuits in case it's cold, several short sleeved shirts with sweaters in case it's warm, a couple of good outfits just in case we go out to eat or shop (is there any doubt about that??), several pairs of pj"s, 3 or 4 robes, slippers, sneakers, heels, socks, a bale of underwear, belts, and lots of bathroom accesories.  Fill cooler with ice.

Monday, Day 5:  Make sandwiches and refrigerate.  Go to the bank for cash.  Fill cooler with food, drinks, and fruit.  Find 3 men and a boy to load suitcase in the trunk of the car and the cooler in the back seat.

Ok, now it's early Tuesday and we are off---.02 miles to the gas station.  We fill up and head for the ferry.  But first, in Plattsburgh, we need to stop for candy bars, cause we may need something sweet.  And, just to be safe, because there is no station on the ferry, let's get more gas.  Finally we are on the ferry.  Once off the ferry and in Vermont, Mom is craning her neck to watch the gas gauge and hoping we have enough gas to get to the next station.  There is no re-assuring her that we have plenty and could probably get all the way to Sue's without filling up.  Oh, there is a McDonald's!  Let's stop for a sausage bisquit and get gas.  Now we are back in the car, and Mom is back to her gas gauge watching.  30 miles later, she needs to stop at a rest room at a gas station.  Yup!  You got it.  At lunch time we need to stop at a picnic table near a gas station.  This continues until we arrive at Sue's, 10 hours later; this is usually about a 6 hour trip!  Of course, I did try to distract her by playing games--you know, the license plate thing we do, but it doesn't work for long.  It's hard to see license plates when you have your eyes glued to the gas gauge.  This was pretty typical of a car trip with Mom.  The variations:

Going to Skip's meant taking the Thruway for a ways.  Because I was there, I happen to know that the New York State Thruway Authority DOES NOT like payment in pennies at the toll booths.  My face is still red over that one.

And going to Lindy's meant the toll places where you throw a quarter, dime, or nickle into the container on certain highways.  (I don't think you do that any more, or we don't go that way any more, thank the good Lord!)  So, of course, I missed the target once and Mom tried to make me get out of the car and find the darn quarter because it was "just as good in our pocket as theirs".  Dear Lord!  There was a LOT of horn blowing and yelling before I found another quarter so we could go on.  Mom wasn't happy, and believe me, neither was I!!  My face is still red over that one, too!!

Those days are gone now, and even tho at the time, I dreaded car trips with Mom, I would give anything I or anyone else owns, just to be in a car with the gas gauge watcher, wringer of hands, fun and funny person who was my Mom.  If nothing else, we never took a trip that I forgot--they were always stressful, fun, entertaining and memorable.  I miss that.

August

Ok, so August days are the "dog days" of the summer, or so they say.  What does that really mean?  Summer is almost over?  Time to reflect or what?  Anyway, for me, August is a month of dates.  I love to see it come and I love to see it go, and I always wonder who I may have forgotten to send a card or e-mail wishes to.  The dates go something like this, and if you know of some I have forgotten, please remind me.

August 5---Aunt Laura--birthday

August 6--Dad--birthday

August 13--me, niece Janelle, and cousins Kristie, and Reaganne---birthdays

August 15--Mamie--birthday

August 16--Shirley--friend, birthday

August 21--Skip and Marge--anniversary

August 23--Aunt Ellen--birthday

August 26--Mom--birthday

August 27--Aunt Adelaide--birthday

August 28--Ainsley--birthday--Me and Mike--anniversary

So I think that may be it but maybe there are more.  For instance, I don't know when Poppy's birthday was, do you?  Anyway, it seems like a lot of stuff in August but I guess not really as much as it seems.  What is your busy month?

It has been a hot and humid August here, unlike June and July, which were sometimes humid but almost always rainy and windy--not much outside weather.  And actually, it's not really outside weather, at least for me, when it's hot and humid.  But it sure is nice to see some sun and bright days, for a change.  I hope you all have had a great summer, regardless of weather, and let's all hope for a nice Fall.   Until later............