Friday, March 27, 2009

Get ready...there's lots of birthdays coming!

A very happy birthday goes to my sister Emily.

She has, by far, the most nicknames in my family:
Freaky Friday
Freaky (short for Freaky Friday)
I even tried to call her FF, but she didn't like it
Girly-two-shoes-lardo-lady-lap-dog (She REALLY hates that one!)

Ok. That's all I can remember!

She is my youngest sibling. I'm the oldest child and she's the youngest, so sometimes there is a "culture" difference for us. There's nearly 11 years between us, but it seems to get less with each passing year (for me at least). I frequently read her blog and she frequently tells me in her blog not to comment the way she thinks I will. And most of the time, she's right.

I still remember when she was born. My mom was cooking dinner (ground beef for some sort of casserole, probably), when her water broke. My dad loaded all us kids (4 of us at the time) in the car, with my mom, and took us to a friend's house. I don't remember their names, but I used to babysit their kids all the time, even though I was only 6 months older than their oldest child.

My mom had the longest labor of her child-bearing years--I think it was 45 minutes.

Emily was born in an army hospital in El Paso, Texas. Right after delivery, the nurses took my mom on a WALKING tour of the maternity wing. She even got to carry her own suitcase. The next morning, they woke her up, gave her crisp clean sheets, and told her to change the sheets.

My dad took us to meet Emily the next day. I remember being quite concerned that she wouldn't look at me and smile. I knew she was blind. I didn't want to make anyone else freak out, so I didn't say anything at the time. I think I didn't say anything until last year, in fact.

I remember while my mom was in the hospital (back when the stay was a minimum of 3 days), my dad made breakfast. He made homemade waffles. I was kind enough to let him know he was doing it wrong, since he didn't beat the egg whites to stiff peaks and fold them into the rest of the batter. He just added the eggs all at once. I KNEW those waffles would be disgusting. Imagine my amazement to taste delicious waffles. Ok. I hear you now--I know I'm bossy. But only sometimes. And only when I'm right. And, yes, I'm always right. I digress.

Oh yeah. The morning after Emily was born, when we got up for breakfast, the hamburger was still in the pan on the stove. I wondered if we would throw it away. We did.

The day Emily came home from the hospital was March 30, 1981. A historic day for presidential history buffs. It was the day Reagan was shot. We picked Emily and my mom up from the hospital, and I swear, we went to McDonald's off I-10 for lunch.

Here are a couple of pictures of Emily. Since she is the last child there are only slightly more pictures of her than of Julie, the next to the last. For some reason, the next to the last child has the fewest photos. :(

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Happy Birthday, Grandmama!

I'm a little late in posting this, but my Grandmama's birthday is today!

She is 84 years young! She is amazing....she probably does more in a couple of hours than I do in a week.

I'm her first grandbaby, so you know she loves me the most. Just kidding.

Here she is holding me when I was a wee thing.

I was born in Mountain Home, Idaho, which was just a few hours from Grandmama's home in Idaho Falls. My dad was in the Air Force and was transferred a couple of weeks after I was born. He was going to training, so my mom and I moved in with my grandparents. I am sure this was taken on one of the days when we lived in Idaho.

When I was about a year old, my Grandmama came to Arizona to feed me my first ice cream cone. From what I hear, I didn't like it too much. Too bad that isn't the case anymore! This picture was taken probably just a few miles from my current house, just 30-something years ago.

Finally, here is a picture of my Grandmama with my brother, Todd. This was taken the day before I got married. We were all scrambling to finish getting the house ready for the open house the next night. My Grandmama probably did as much work as anyone.

I talked to her on the phone and she told me the funniest story that happened on Friday. She had 2 of her great-granddaughters over. She has some flower beds in her front yard that she wanted to get ready for the spring flowers. She asked the little girls (they are 7 and 4, I think) to help her. She got a shovel for herself and spades for the girls. She told them she would turn over the dirt and it was their job to break up the big clods. The older of the two girls, thinking that this was too big of a job for her "Nana," told her, "Oh, Nana, you are too old to do that." Grandmama, who was 29 for 29+ years, asked, "What?" And Grandmama could hear the brakes come squealing to a stop in her great-granddaughter's head. "Oh, Nana, I mean, you just a little old." My Grandmama will never be too old to do anything!

Monday, March 16, 2009

Most embarrassing moment, Part I

Isn't it funny how you can remember such small details about events in your life that you wish would never have happened? And the biggest, most life-changing events sometimes are the hardest to remember?

Right after my mission, I got a job working in the mall. I was a poorly paid (and I mean POORLY paid) assistant manager at Jay Jacobs--a store that specialized in junior's apparel.

There was a strict-ish dress code, but fortunately you were not required to exclusively wear clothes from the store, unlike other mall stores. I remember that sleeves, socks or stockings, and close-toed shoes were required.

I obviously didn't have a problem with the sleeves, but socks and stockings were just no fun. Our store was trying to save money since the company had filed for bankruptcy and several stores had already closed. Plus the air conditioner was on the fritz, so we kept the store a lot warmer than is recommended in the middle of a Tucson summer.

I can remember distinctly what I wore to work on the day of "The Incident." A long, dusty-pink, broomstick skirt, with an off-white raw silk t-shirt and a vest that was made of what appeared to be upholstery fabric. Remember those? This was the summer of 1994, when these items were still somewhat fashionable.

My skirt came down, almost to my ankles, so I had contemplated not wearing any hosiery. I was, afterall, the assistant manager. The big-wig of the day, so no one was going to report me. And no one could have possibly seen that I wasn't wearing hosiery anyway.

Heck. If anyone had said something, I just would have to reply, "Oh, I'm wearing white nylons." No one would have known the difference. Really--I'm that white!

But, I decided against it. But I sure as heck wasn't going to wear full-on nylons. No sir!

And I really think knee-highs are the worlds worst invention.

So I decided to wear my thigh-highs. They were fancy!

There was a strip of silicone on the inside to keep them up and they worked like a charm.

Until I decided to get lunch.

I was walking down the mall to the "food court." (I use that term loosely since this mall had only a couple of food options and none of them were close together. Hence not much food was to be had. And it certainly wasn't in any kind of court. But I digress.)

I felt my stockings start to slip a little. But I couldn't walk down the mall, with my hands on my thighs, hiking up my stockings. That would cause a scene.

So I decided to walk a little faster, make it to the "snack area," and strategically tug at my hosiery from a seated position. No one would notice that!

Walk, walk, walk.

Ok, they're slipping more.

Trot, trot, trot.

Oh no! They are sliding rather quickly.

Run, run, run.

Ok. Maybe no one has noticed, but I think they are around my ankles.

Clearly, since no one can see this, they won't know that I have saggy, elephant skin. Whew! (Oh, the denial!)

I'll just hurry a little faster and no one will the the wiser.

Oh crap!

The right one has slid past my ankle. I think it is trying to come off.

Good thing my shoe is still on. It will keep things ok.

What the heck?!

The left one has now turned itself inside-out, over my shoe, and is flapping in front of me.

Surely, no one sees.

Holy Hannah!

The right one is also inside-out, over my shoe, and is flapping in front of me.

Yeah, I guess this must look ridiculous.

Some chick is walking in the mall, with 3-foot long nylons that look an awful lot like streamers, coming out of her feet.

I rather discreetly take off my shoes, slide them out of the inside-out nylon thigh-highs, take off the hosiery, replace my shoes, and keep walking down the mall.

I think I only skip about 2 beats.

Then I throw those horrible creatures in the garbage.

Yeah. It's great to know all the details of life's embarrassing experiences.

It's your turn to share one of yours.

Oh, and as you can see from the title of this post...I have plenty to share.

Hey Mom, this post is for you....

I was talking to my sister, Julie, on the phone tonight. I guess, technically, it was last night. Let's just say it was a few hours ago. The last thing she said to me was, "Mom said you need to post something new to your blog."

So here it is:

A short, picnik montage of my mom.

I remember nothing of the first two photos, but I do remember the last one. Ok. That's sort of a lie. I don't remember seeing this photo before a couple of months ago. But what I do remember is what we were doing. I cropped out the part of the picture that shows me and my sister, Jennilyn, getting ready to sit on some large rocks, on the edge of a lake. Probably more of a pond. But I was 4 and it seemed REALLY huge. And scary. I remember thinking I would fall in and probably die. But my mom told me I wouldn't. So I sat there. Quite still, just in case.

This is a picture of her probably reassuring me that everything would be okay.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Escape (The Pina Colada Song)

So....I have to write a post based on the above title.

If you were to escape right now, where would you go? What would you leave behind? What would you take with you?

If I were to escape right now, I would go to a sunny island. Tahiti or Fiji or Hawaii. I would leave the cold weather behind. Hey, I know I live in Arizona and it is in the 70s, but I am the most cold-blooded person I know. I'm freezing and still wearing my winter clothes.

Nice way to get me off track....I'm good at that!

Back to the story...I'd leave the cold. I'd leave figuring out dinner. Ok. You are calling me on this too? I admit. I'm not good at menu planning. Just ask Darrell. Actually don't. I admit it--I'm REALLY bad at menu planning.

Escaping....cold, menu planning. I think even my computer. For awhile, at least.

I would definitely take Darrell. I would take my family. I would take a couple of books. I would take a camera. And I would take chocolate.

Ok, I know I'm not planning on being on a desert island, but you never know if you can find really good chocolate in a remote-ish area. And I just don't want to chance it.

So that's my idea of escape. For right now.

Other days, just holing myself up in my bedroom, with my computer, TV, and some mediocre chocolate is good enough.

Thanks for reading....

As a reward, you can click on the video to hear the song.

PS--Darrell and I were watching some show on TV (I know, no surprise!) and saw this guy singing on American Bandstand. He looked like an accountant with a microphone and danced the white boy dance.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

I've found a new hobby

It may even replace facebook for the pass time that uses more time than I think.

It's picnik.

I don't have Photoshop and the photo software on my computer stinks. I never get it right the first time and have to edit the photo twelve times before it finally looks a little like I want it to.

Until now.

These are photos I edited in the last 30 minutes:

Save me now!

Monday, March 2, 2009

This Years Love

So, in my attempt to blog more and (hopefully) more interesting posts, I have decided to hit "Random" on my MP3 player and use the song as the title for at least one post a week.

The first is, as you can tell, This Years Love. I was interested to see that it isn't This Year's Love, but This Years Love. No apostrophe. Yes, I'm a bit of a grammar geek.

So far, this year, I have been oh-so-obsessed with "nesting." You know, making the house you live in feel so much more homey. I have wanted to create and decorate.

I have spent hours checking out blogs, websites, stores, and other people's houses, trying to decide what I could do to my own house.

Last month (is it REALLY March!?!) I made a fabric wreath. My loyal followers and readers will remember. Especially since it was only a couple of posts ago.

A couple of weeks ago, I painted and stained a rolling, wooden kitchen cart to match my kitchen "china" cabinet.

Last week, I decorated for Easter, putting out bunnies of all sorts throughout the house.

Yesterday, I went to an antique shop and bought some vintage jars and bottles to put buttons in. I love buttons and when we went through Darrell's mom's sewing room, I asked for the buttons. They have been sitting in the garage for the last nine months or so, and I intend to put them in jars to display at different times throughout the year.

So, I guess This Years Love is making my already cozy home even cozier. I just hope that Darrell enjoys it, too.

I thought I'd include a YouTube video of This Years Love, so you all can enjoy it, too. I guess that will be how I end this weekly posting--with a fun video of the song I choose.