I crashed my car yesterday. Well it wasn't exactly a crash but I did accidentally rear-end a pick-up truck about 10 seconds from our driveway. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. A majority of accidents happen close to home. It did make it convenient just to have the other driver come to our house to exchange information etc. So it's actually probably the best place for an accident.
Having 6 vehicles, unfortunately we've had several issues in the last month that have stretched the budget way too thin. So our head of the household declared just last week that no more car repairs would be done for a while if the vehicle was drivable. All cosmetic work could wait. I guess that square hole in my 11 month old car's front bumper will have to stay a while. Of course I was a bit upset. But I am very fortunate to have a husband who stated "It's just property. Everyone is okay." Awwwwww. Our dietitian son cooked dinner for me to make me feel better. Of course that was after he texted a group text, including pictures, stating "I told her she needs to learn to be a more cautious driver like me." Right........Every car he has every had looks like it's been in a demolition derby.
Coming home at lunch today, I did have a fleeting thought about my accident as I got to the same intersection. A few seconds later I was walking into our house as three sons starting singing Miley Cyrus' "Wrecking Ball" at me. Of course there was a little twist with the words, adding "she said she didn't even see that truck in front of her" into the song. (I am not now, nor have I ever been a Miley fan and I consider that song a disgusting brain worm that was, of course, stuck in my head most of the afternoon.) Just as they finished singing, hubby peeked around the corner, grinning. He had put them up to it! They are just so sweet.
Driving has never been something I've really enjoyed. Although I had dreams of becoming a long haul truck driver when I was a young teen, when I finally did start driving I knew that would never happen. I did drive almost half way across the country many years ago, but it's just not something I enjoy doing if I don't have to. I think, as I've grown older, part of the problem is that I can't multitask while driving. Well at least not legally. And yes. My kids did ask if I was on my phone when I crashed. No. I was not!
Because our two recent just the two of us trips happened after hubby came off firefighter duty and he was very tired, I volunteered to drive. We started out for Memphis on a Thursday morning. I drove the whole way! Over 4 hours and that's the longest I've driven in probably over 25 years. I figured I was pretty safe because it was basically interstate the whole way. Except I don't like bridges. Apparently I have a bit of vertigo so some bridges kinda freak me out. I thought we were going across the normal bridge into Memphis. It's huge and doesn't bother me quite as much as some even though I prefer not to be the driver when crossing it. This time, however, the GPS took us across the smaller one. I kinda freaked. I talked non-stop as we left Arkansas and entered Tennessee. Hubby told me to do something differently than I was doing but I had to focus and just drive so I have no idea what that was. And if he wasn't careful, he was going to have to climb over behind the wheel and take over right there in the middle of that bridge! We did make it off the bridge but the creases made in my palms from squeezing the steering wheel didn't go away for quite some time. Once we made it to our hotel, I didn't drive again until after we got back home.
Our next trip was going down the same interstate for several hours. He started driving when we left home but got tired and asked me to take over. So I did. Thinking it would be easier to not go across that bridge into Memphis again, we turned south about 2 hours sooner. Hubby got some sleep. Then it happened. A hot wheels ramp. I actually hate those hot wheel ramps worse than I hate bridges! I think they are probably called flyovers or something like that. I don't really know nor do I care. I just know that when we are on one I feel like we are going to fly off just like our hot wheels cars flew off our hot wheels ramps when we were kids. Here I was. A sleeping husband, on my on, and I misunderstood the GPS. Hubby woke up. Not sure if it was because he sensed danger or if I was panicking out loud. But he witnessed my meltdown and then even a double meltdown as I ended up on yet another almost complete circle hot wheels ramp before finding a vacant parking lot right off that silly thing. He laughed as I freaked out and said he wished he had thought to video me so the kids could see. Argh.
Safely on that vacant parking lot, I got out on my wobbly legs. He laughed and told me I needed to keep driving. I told him I was going to make sandwiches instead so he could have something to eat. He finally got in the driver's seat and I proceeded to make peanut butter sandwiches as he recapped what he considered to be quite funny and I considered to be a nightmare.
As we continued down thru Louisiana, he talked me into driving again. Until he mentioned going across the Mississippi River. I asked him how wide it was. When he said "One mile" and began singing "Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man" by Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn, I started to watch the GPS screen very closely. I saw water. Couldn't tell if we were driving by it or over it but I wasn't about to repeat the panic of the morning. So I stopped again. Turned out the Mississippi River was still a ways off but that's ok. I'm much better at ridding shotgun and making sandwiches than I am at driving.
I guess I not only provide entertainment while I drive, but while I am a passenger as well. I'm not very good at sitting still. In the passenger seat, I am constantly playing games on my phone, taking pictures, making sandwiches for my brave driver, checking and re-checking the GPS and weather for where we've been and where we're going. And if a song comes on the radio that I can dance to, I'm dancing. In my seat. Moving as much as I possibly can. When "Fancy" came on the radio and I started my dance, complete with head bobbing and hand movements (didn't matter that I was also eating a rice cake at the same time), hubby decided videoing my attempt to entertain myself was not only a good idea but good enough to text to the kids for their enjoyment. (Interesting how he can video me while he drives but I'm not allowed to do anything but keep my hands on the wheel and look straight ahead when I drive. Hmmm....) They didn't comment on dad's video of mom's interpretive car dance. But hubby sure had fun with it.
Whether we are going on a long trip or just across town, I'm very glad we have a family of drivers so I don't often have to do it. And, after yesterday, I'm pretty sure everyone else is glad I'm not often the driver, too.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Monday, August 25, 2014
50 Years Ago Today I Took a Bubble Bath
How do I know this? Because my sister, Judith Leslie Hale, was born 50 years ago today. It was just five days before my third birthday and I don't remember being told I had a new baby sister. But I do remember that bubble bath.
Early on the morning of August 25, 1964 my dad handed me off to my Great Aunt Estelle. He and my mom were on their way to the hospital just so I could become a big sister. (No this whole story is not about me but it is the only perspective I have.) I distinctly remember being handed off to Aunt Estelle on her carport at the back steps to her house. I would imagine she knew I was a bit apprehensive and unsure of what was going on. But she knew just what to do.
Aunt Estelle was a beautician and an Avon Lady so her house always smelled like none other. Amazingly sweet and I loved it! And she knew just how to put a little girl's anxious mind at ease. We went into the bathroom (I wanna say she had a pink bathtub but that part may be my imagination and a combination of other bathrooms over the years) and she started running the water. There in a jar she had those amazing little colorful balls that, when we put them under the running water, suddenly became slimy and then dissolved into mounds of white sparkly bubbles! Absolutely a 2 year 360 day old little girl's dream!
I don't remember being told later that day that I had a little sister but I'm sure that's what happened. I don't remember anything about the next five days. Until my 3rd birthday when we brought that new baby home. Back then little kids weren't allowed in the hospital rooms because they brought in too many germs. So I didn't meet Judi until she left the hospital on my birthday. Now I'm not sure if it was my sister or brother....or maybe it happened with both.....but I distinctly remember my mom being in the back seat of the car with me, my grandma being in the front seat and my dad in the driver seat. Just like a car hop brings your burger at Sonic, the baby was handed thru the driver's side window to my dad! No car seats. Just the protocol of the day. The baby is handed to dad. Then dad hands the baby to grandma and we take off.
When we arrived home it was finally my turn to hold my baby sister. Now I currently have 3,385 pictures on my phone. But pictures were expensive to develop back then so not nearly as many were taken. I remember being seated in a chair and baby Judi being placed on my lap. A picture, maybe two, and we were done with that. Done with the picture part at least. There I was in my birthday dress and my lap was wet! My new baby sister's diaper had leaked all over my birthday dress! I remember not having a clue what all the excitement was about but everyone seemed to have something to say about the subject.
Little sister soon caught up to me in size and people thought we were twins for many years. Then she passed me and I became the little sister. We shared a room all our growing up years. She loved ticking clocks. They drove me crazy. I liked to keep our room neat. She preferred comfort. Our lives took different paths and we even live in different states now....not far apart but different states all the same. She's happy sitting and reading a book. I can't sit still long enough to read much of anything. She wears jeans and tennis shoes. I wear skirts and stilettos. But there's one thing that will will always share. We will always be sisters. Happy Birthday Judi. Love you!
Early on the morning of August 25, 1964 my dad handed me off to my Great Aunt Estelle. He and my mom were on their way to the hospital just so I could become a big sister. (No this whole story is not about me but it is the only perspective I have.) I distinctly remember being handed off to Aunt Estelle on her carport at the back steps to her house. I would imagine she knew I was a bit apprehensive and unsure of what was going on. But she knew just what to do.
Aunt Estelle was a beautician and an Avon Lady so her house always smelled like none other. Amazingly sweet and I loved it! And she knew just how to put a little girl's anxious mind at ease. We went into the bathroom (I wanna say she had a pink bathtub but that part may be my imagination and a combination of other bathrooms over the years) and she started running the water. There in a jar she had those amazing little colorful balls that, when we put them under the running water, suddenly became slimy and then dissolved into mounds of white sparkly bubbles! Absolutely a 2 year 360 day old little girl's dream!
I don't remember being told later that day that I had a little sister but I'm sure that's what happened. I don't remember anything about the next five days. Until my 3rd birthday when we brought that new baby home. Back then little kids weren't allowed in the hospital rooms because they brought in too many germs. So I didn't meet Judi until she left the hospital on my birthday. Now I'm not sure if it was my sister or brother....or maybe it happened with both.....but I distinctly remember my mom being in the back seat of the car with me, my grandma being in the front seat and my dad in the driver seat. Just like a car hop brings your burger at Sonic, the baby was handed thru the driver's side window to my dad! No car seats. Just the protocol of the day. The baby is handed to dad. Then dad hands the baby to grandma and we take off.
When we arrived home it was finally my turn to hold my baby sister. Now I currently have 3,385 pictures on my phone. But pictures were expensive to develop back then so not nearly as many were taken. I remember being seated in a chair and baby Judi being placed on my lap. A picture, maybe two, and we were done with that. Done with the picture part at least. There I was in my birthday dress and my lap was wet! My new baby sister's diaper had leaked all over my birthday dress! I remember not having a clue what all the excitement was about but everyone seemed to have something to say about the subject.
Little sister soon caught up to me in size and people thought we were twins for many years. Then she passed me and I became the little sister. We shared a room all our growing up years. She loved ticking clocks. They drove me crazy. I liked to keep our room neat. She preferred comfort. Our lives took different paths and we even live in different states now....not far apart but different states all the same. She's happy sitting and reading a book. I can't sit still long enough to read much of anything. She wears jeans and tennis shoes. I wear skirts and stilettos. But there's one thing that will will always share. We will always be sisters. Happy Birthday Judi. Love you!
Saturday, August 23, 2014
Down at the End of Lonely Street
Yes. Down at the end of Lonely Street in Memphis is Heartbreak Hotel and that's exactly where hubby and I spent the first night of our no kids vacation. Did we choose Heartbreak Hotel because we are huge Elvis fans? Nope. We chose it 1. Because I thought it would be fun and 2. Because the kids wouldn't want to tag along! It worked. :)
Not realizing we scheduled our trip for just before the start of Elvis week, we were assured upon arrival that we were fortunate to have a room. The lobby itself was a sight to behold. Shiny furniture. Furry furniture. A TV that looked like it might be from the 50s playing the same Elvis movie as the big flat screen just feet away. A pink fur covered phone sat on a table in the corner. It had a dedicated line to Marlowe's, a restaurant that proudly claims "Elvis ate here" and gladly comes to pick you up in a pink limo so you can eat there, too.
Our room.....well it had quite a view. Looking down from our window we saw a heart shaped pool with a broken line thru it. Heartbreak Hotel had a heartbreak pool. And on the wall above the bed, just what every man wants...not....a huge picture of Elvis of course! On the TV was Elvis all day every day! Well they had other channels too but why even bother watching those when you're staying at Heartbreak Hotel in Memphis, TN. We explored the hotel a bit and found the Kid Galahad gym (named after the Elvis movie of course.) A man walked in right after we did. In an Australian accent he asked if we might take his picture for him. He said no one would believe he was working out (and we could see why!) and that, of all things, he was on a treadmill in Heartbreak Hotel, Memphis, TN. We obliged and he said he would be posting it on facebook later. Not sure if he actually worked out, but he got his picture at least.
Next stop, Graceland! I'm not sure what we really expected but what we saw was not it. Not that we were disappointed of course. But walking in that front door was like walking back in time. Kinda reminded me of the Brady Bunch movies. 70s all the way. I think Elvis would have updated things if he had lived and somehow I expected things to be updated. From the stained glass peacock in the living room to the completely fabric covered billiard room. And that jungle room. I expected swinging vines and maybe a rain forest type atmosphere. Instead it was a 70s style man-cave with an old teddy bear sitting in a chair. I'm guessing that teddy bear was there to remind us of the song by the same title.
Before we had completed all our tours we had seen awards, clothing, checks Elvis had signed, cars, The Lisa Marie plane (complete with a bed that had a seat belt) and Hound Dog II jet with banana yellow and lime green seats. Plus a couple of little 'museums' tucked brilliantly inside souvenir stores. In every picture and video Elvis was always young. Always handsome. Always Elvis. Never the overweight middle-aged man he had become just before he died.
After eating at Marlowe's (Elvis ate there so we figured we might as well, too) we took a trip to Beale Street. Once in a lifetime for us for sure. While the music was interesting, drifting thru open doors of bars and eateries, we found ourselves people watching as we walked. We paused to watch the Beale Street Flippers, a group of young men who carry around buckets for people to drop in money as payment for the entertainment provided by the flippers who flip down the middle of the street. A side trip from Beale Street provided a whole different group of people to watch. Stepping inside the famous Peabody, we found expensive shops and almost quietness compared to Beale Street. One lone pianist played a grand piano. I couldn't help but compare the different atmospheres we were in, just by walking down a different street and stepping inside the door.
Back on Beale Street Elvis was even very present there, complete with a statue in front of the MLGW building. We made guesses about what MLGW stood for and imagined just what the one man sitting at his desk in that lighted window several stories up was doing. Don't know what the guy was doing but neither of us got MLGW right. It was Memphis Light, Gas and Water. Think Elvis would have been proud to preside over that building?
The next morning when we went down to breakfast, we quickly discovered we were in the minority. By being in the minority I don't me race or religion. I mean we were some of the very few who weren't wearing some sort of Elvis garb. One older couple had matching Elvis shirts. But the Mrs. didn't stop there. She had a walker and draped over it was a towel or scarf with Elvis all over it. Later I noticed she appeared to have had some sort of recent surgery on her leg and was wearing a brace. There on that brace was a rinestone pen spelling out Elvis.
While we were busy feeding our faces from the Heartbreak Hotel breakfast buffet, in walked a very young Elvis. A couple scurried up to him and the wife had the husband take her picture with him. We continued eating and I spotted a woman wearing a top with a racing style back. She seemed a little old and not quite built for that style but then I noticed something else. She had an Elvis tattoo on the back of her left shoulder! I wondered if she dressed this way just for Elvis week or if this was the norm. Later we saw her in the Heartbreak Hotel heartbreak pool and noticed her swimsuit was the same style. No strap to cover her Elvis of course!
Our trip down Lonely Street was just that. A real trip. We had a good time, saw some interesting things, and realized we aren't normal.....at least not when we are in Memphis!
Not realizing we scheduled our trip for just before the start of Elvis week, we were assured upon arrival that we were fortunate to have a room. The lobby itself was a sight to behold. Shiny furniture. Furry furniture. A TV that looked like it might be from the 50s playing the same Elvis movie as the big flat screen just feet away. A pink fur covered phone sat on a table in the corner. It had a dedicated line to Marlowe's, a restaurant that proudly claims "Elvis ate here" and gladly comes to pick you up in a pink limo so you can eat there, too.
Our room.....well it had quite a view. Looking down from our window we saw a heart shaped pool with a broken line thru it. Heartbreak Hotel had a heartbreak pool. And on the wall above the bed, just what every man wants...not....a huge picture of Elvis of course! On the TV was Elvis all day every day! Well they had other channels too but why even bother watching those when you're staying at Heartbreak Hotel in Memphis, TN. We explored the hotel a bit and found the Kid Galahad gym (named after the Elvis movie of course.) A man walked in right after we did. In an Australian accent he asked if we might take his picture for him. He said no one would believe he was working out (and we could see why!) and that, of all things, he was on a treadmill in Heartbreak Hotel, Memphis, TN. We obliged and he said he would be posting it on facebook later. Not sure if he actually worked out, but he got his picture at least.
Next stop, Graceland! I'm not sure what we really expected but what we saw was not it. Not that we were disappointed of course. But walking in that front door was like walking back in time. Kinda reminded me of the Brady Bunch movies. 70s all the way. I think Elvis would have updated things if he had lived and somehow I expected things to be updated. From the stained glass peacock in the living room to the completely fabric covered billiard room. And that jungle room. I expected swinging vines and maybe a rain forest type atmosphere. Instead it was a 70s style man-cave with an old teddy bear sitting in a chair. I'm guessing that teddy bear was there to remind us of the song by the same title.
Before we had completed all our tours we had seen awards, clothing, checks Elvis had signed, cars, The Lisa Marie plane (complete with a bed that had a seat belt) and Hound Dog II jet with banana yellow and lime green seats. Plus a couple of little 'museums' tucked brilliantly inside souvenir stores. In every picture and video Elvis was always young. Always handsome. Always Elvis. Never the overweight middle-aged man he had become just before he died.
After eating at Marlowe's (Elvis ate there so we figured we might as well, too) we took a trip to Beale Street. Once in a lifetime for us for sure. While the music was interesting, drifting thru open doors of bars and eateries, we found ourselves people watching as we walked. We paused to watch the Beale Street Flippers, a group of young men who carry around buckets for people to drop in money as payment for the entertainment provided by the flippers who flip down the middle of the street. A side trip from Beale Street provided a whole different group of people to watch. Stepping inside the famous Peabody, we found expensive shops and almost quietness compared to Beale Street. One lone pianist played a grand piano. I couldn't help but compare the different atmospheres we were in, just by walking down a different street and stepping inside the door.
Back on Beale Street Elvis was even very present there, complete with a statue in front of the MLGW building. We made guesses about what MLGW stood for and imagined just what the one man sitting at his desk in that lighted window several stories up was doing. Don't know what the guy was doing but neither of us got MLGW right. It was Memphis Light, Gas and Water. Think Elvis would have been proud to preside over that building?
The next morning when we went down to breakfast, we quickly discovered we were in the minority. By being in the minority I don't me race or religion. I mean we were some of the very few who weren't wearing some sort of Elvis garb. One older couple had matching Elvis shirts. But the Mrs. didn't stop there. She had a walker and draped over it was a towel or scarf with Elvis all over it. Later I noticed she appeared to have had some sort of recent surgery on her leg and was wearing a brace. There on that brace was a rinestone pen spelling out Elvis.
While we were busy feeding our faces from the Heartbreak Hotel breakfast buffet, in walked a very young Elvis. A couple scurried up to him and the wife had the husband take her picture with him. We continued eating and I spotted a woman wearing a top with a racing style back. She seemed a little old and not quite built for that style but then I noticed something else. She had an Elvis tattoo on the back of her left shoulder! I wondered if she dressed this way just for Elvis week or if this was the norm. Later we saw her in the Heartbreak Hotel heartbreak pool and noticed her swimsuit was the same style. No strap to cover her Elvis of course!
Our trip down Lonely Street was just that. A real trip. We had a good time, saw some interesting things, and realized we aren't normal.....at least not when we are in Memphis!
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Taking Our Baby Girl to College--And I Cried, And I Bawled, And I Boo-hooed
Today we took our baby girl to college and I've been crying since Thursday. She's ready. I'm not. Being a mom is hard!
We have 5 kids. The first 4 are boys. Well, young men now. We wanted a girl and had given up. Then, four days before our youngest son's first birthday we got a surprise. And she has been a surprise ever since! We were going to have another baby and a few months later we found out she was a girl. What a girl she is. Head strong. Determined. Smart. Self-assured. Amazing.
As the day approached for her to leave, it seemed like everything reminded me of sweet things involving her. As I cooked one last family meal Saturday afternoon, hubby walked in the kitchen and found me upset. I was remembering when Amy was an infant and in a baby carrier in the floor as I made dinner. Her big brother, 21 month old Zack, came in and kissed her and patted her and said "Maimee, my Maimee". And I cried and cried remembering. In fact I have a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes as I write this right now. Those two have been best buddies all their lives and he went with us today to make sure everything was set up correctly for his Maimee.
When Amy was 4, she asked Jesus to live in her heart. She knew what she was doing. She meant it. And she knew that doing so meant she would spend eternity with Jesus in Heaven. A couple of months later on Easter she very excitedly announced that she wanted to go live with Jesus "right now!" As a mom, it tore out my heart and made me so very happy all at the same time. Even today she lives basically without fear and says that when it's her time, it's her time.
Kindergarten for Amy was something she accepted as a matter of fact. No crying or begging not to go like her mother had done as a child. In fact, I just knew I would cry as I took her in so I asked if maybe she might want to go in by herself. She was all for it! Then I realized she had her backpack, lunchbox, kindergarten mat and supplies. Way too much for a tiny almost 5 year old to handle. When I told her I'd better go in with her because she had so much stuff she responded "Can't I just drag it?" That's my Amy!
We've tried and tried to talk her out of going away to school. She could live at home like two of her brothers and attend college right here in her home town. But she chose to go to the same college another brother went to. Two hours away. Dad suddenly became even more protective. Hugs happened more often. And it didn't matter how much we had to spend to make her dorm room feel homey. Whatever she needed or wanted, we bought. Dad even went shopping with us.
So we made it there today. We got her stuff unloaded and kinda in place. Bought more stuff. Went out to eat. Visited two of her friends in their dorm rooms. And I didn't shed a tear. Until we started to drive off. She didn't see me. But I cried. I bawled. I boo-hooed. I mean the tears flowed. There was even an alert on our phones about a flash flood and it wasn't even raining. Wondering if it was related to me and the other moms crying over their babies growing up and going away to college.
What about those pictures of the first day of school? No more. What about those packets sent home on the first day and needed back by day two, completed with everything under the sun on them and literally taking up hours of my time? What about school supplies? A certain kind of glue. This number of colored pencils in a package and not that number. Dry erase markers. Wait....we didn't even have a dry erase marker board. Why did we need those? But no more. It's all in the past.
I finally stopped crying as we got nearer to home and we decided to stop and do a little shopping. The two boys at home met us but I found I couldn't go in. The shopping is usually done with Amy, not with the boys. This wasn't right. And I started crying again. And I bawled. And I boo-hooed. I determined to sit in the car while dad and three sons shopped. But I was needed and I had to go in. Argh. I went in, not looking at the areas where mom and daughter usually shop. And we got it done. Then I realized. Oh no. We still had to go home. And I cried. And I bawled. And I boo-hooed. I carried in all of the purchases plus some other stuff. Tears flowing the entire time. And I thought about the oafs I live with who just didn't understand and didn't want to. Then, without me having a clue, hubby did something sweet. As I sat on our bed, tears flowing, he sent the boys and the dog in to see me. Guess they care after all. I'm still gonna cry. I'm a mom and it's ok. But I'm also very thankful we raised an amazing, well adjusted daughter who thinks she is ready to take her place in this world. Yes, she's ready. I'm not. But that's ok.
We have 5 kids. The first 4 are boys. Well, young men now. We wanted a girl and had given up. Then, four days before our youngest son's first birthday we got a surprise. And she has been a surprise ever since! We were going to have another baby and a few months later we found out she was a girl. What a girl she is. Head strong. Determined. Smart. Self-assured. Amazing.
As the day approached for her to leave, it seemed like everything reminded me of sweet things involving her. As I cooked one last family meal Saturday afternoon, hubby walked in the kitchen and found me upset. I was remembering when Amy was an infant and in a baby carrier in the floor as I made dinner. Her big brother, 21 month old Zack, came in and kissed her and patted her and said "Maimee, my Maimee". And I cried and cried remembering. In fact I have a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes as I write this right now. Those two have been best buddies all their lives and he went with us today to make sure everything was set up correctly for his Maimee.
When Amy was 4, she asked Jesus to live in her heart. She knew what she was doing. She meant it. And she knew that doing so meant she would spend eternity with Jesus in Heaven. A couple of months later on Easter she very excitedly announced that she wanted to go live with Jesus "right now!" As a mom, it tore out my heart and made me so very happy all at the same time. Even today she lives basically without fear and says that when it's her time, it's her time.
Kindergarten for Amy was something she accepted as a matter of fact. No crying or begging not to go like her mother had done as a child. In fact, I just knew I would cry as I took her in so I asked if maybe she might want to go in by herself. She was all for it! Then I realized she had her backpack, lunchbox, kindergarten mat and supplies. Way too much for a tiny almost 5 year old to handle. When I told her I'd better go in with her because she had so much stuff she responded "Can't I just drag it?" That's my Amy!
We've tried and tried to talk her out of going away to school. She could live at home like two of her brothers and attend college right here in her home town. But she chose to go to the same college another brother went to. Two hours away. Dad suddenly became even more protective. Hugs happened more often. And it didn't matter how much we had to spend to make her dorm room feel homey. Whatever she needed or wanted, we bought. Dad even went shopping with us.
So we made it there today. We got her stuff unloaded and kinda in place. Bought more stuff. Went out to eat. Visited two of her friends in their dorm rooms. And I didn't shed a tear. Until we started to drive off. She didn't see me. But I cried. I bawled. I boo-hooed. I mean the tears flowed. There was even an alert on our phones about a flash flood and it wasn't even raining. Wondering if it was related to me and the other moms crying over their babies growing up and going away to college.
What about those pictures of the first day of school? No more. What about those packets sent home on the first day and needed back by day two, completed with everything under the sun on them and literally taking up hours of my time? What about school supplies? A certain kind of glue. This number of colored pencils in a package and not that number. Dry erase markers. Wait....we didn't even have a dry erase marker board. Why did we need those? But no more. It's all in the past.
I finally stopped crying as we got nearer to home and we decided to stop and do a little shopping. The two boys at home met us but I found I couldn't go in. The shopping is usually done with Amy, not with the boys. This wasn't right. And I started crying again. And I bawled. And I boo-hooed. I determined to sit in the car while dad and three sons shopped. But I was needed and I had to go in. Argh. I went in, not looking at the areas where mom and daughter usually shop. And we got it done. Then I realized. Oh no. We still had to go home. And I cried. And I bawled. And I boo-hooed. I carried in all of the purchases plus some other stuff. Tears flowing the entire time. And I thought about the oafs I live with who just didn't understand and didn't want to. Then, without me having a clue, hubby did something sweet. As I sat on our bed, tears flowing, he sent the boys and the dog in to see me. Guess they care after all. I'm still gonna cry. I'm a mom and it's ok. But I'm also very thankful we raised an amazing, well adjusted daughter who thinks she is ready to take her place in this world. Yes, she's ready. I'm not. But that's ok.
Saturday, August 16, 2014
How Many Different Ways Can You Cook Chicken Anyway?
"Just how many ways can you cook chicken?" asked my husband as we sat down for some fine dining in a little town near Jackson, Mississippi this week. We were on the last leg of our 25th wedding anniversary trip. Having had absolutely amazing times in Memphis, TN and Gulf Shores, AL, we were winding down with a brief stay in Jackson for some shopping and rest before returning home to real life. While in Gulf Shores we opted to eat in every meal. The sweet little condo we had rented had everything we needed to prepare our meals and we could dine in leisure. It was such a change, cooking for just the two of us. Hubby has never been one to complain about what we ate and I found it an absolute pleasure cooking for him like in the 'olden days', before kids.
Now here we were, eating out. Fine dining. Well not really. It was a buffet and recommended by the nice lady at the front desk of our hotel. As we approached the restaurant we noticed that we were racial minorities. Not a problem. We are not racists in any way. But with current events that were being broadcast across every news channel and being in unfamiliar surroundings, it was definitely something you couldn't help but notice.
Getting out of our car and walking to the door, we saw a family getting into their vehicle right at the front door. A woman was helping an obviously very ill man into the van. As we got nearer I realized he was getting into the driver's seat, a fact that was very alarming because of his obvious multiple physical illnesses including a catheter hanging over the top of his pants. After giving him a last shove into the driver's seat, the woman assisting him quickly turned and almost plowed down my husband as she hurried back into the restaurant. "I dropped my toothpick!" she announced, as she hurried in for a replacement.
Once inside, I noticed the familiar smell of old, not so clean, eating establishments. The smell has always given me the impression that there is a lot of old grease hanging around and probably a rodent or two or twenty. But we were there and in line. The manager directed us to a completely empty dining area in the back. Again, we are not racist. But we could not help but feel like we were being ushered to the back of the bus. We later realized that the waiter assigned to that area had absolutely no customers and we were apparently bait for others to come sit in the back so he would have some customers.
Now this was a well known chain restaurant so I won't mention any names. But our local restaurant of the same name always has an amazing variety of food, very well cooked, labeled and delicious. We were tired and thought we could surely find something we could eat. I headed for the salad bar and hubby headed for the meats. I noticed, behind the salad bar, a display of produce that looked much like a grocery store display. It even included a huge cardboard box sitting in the middle of the work area and marked "watermelon" on the side.
We made our selections and sat down at our table, now being joined by another couple who chose to sit at the very next table behind my husband even though the room was completely open except for us. My salad was ok. Very little variety of salad items but it was ok. However, the fluffy rolls that we are used to were instead very hard, chewy rolls that very well may have been left over from previous days and would have never been served at our local family buffet. Hubby bit into a deviled egg and I asked him how it was. He said it wasn't as good as the ones I make. I thought he was just being nice until I tried one for myself. Oh my. It actually tasted like soap! I couldn't finish it.
Still attempting to find something edible, we made another round at the buffet. Hubby came back to the table and asked "Just how many ways can you cook chicken anyway?" Used to having chicken, beef, pork and fish to choose from, this place wasn't even close. On a subsequent buffet trip, hubby checked out the chicken. Baked, fried, some with barbecue sauce poured over it, Asian, on the bone, off the bone, in soup. Chicken enchiladas that were crispy on the ends and tasted freezer burned in the middle. You could just about name it chicken-wise and it was there.
And our waiter. Carl. Well Carl was not much on making eye contact. In fact, Carl wasn't much on watching anything. While I was perusing the buffet at one point, Carl came to our table and refilled our drinks, running mine over to the point that hubby had to grab napkins and clean up the table as Carl went on his merry way, oblivious to the fact that anything had even happened.
Still trying to find something edible, I began to notice things mislabeled. Rigatoni noodles labeled as spaghetti. Sauce that was labeled marinara had so much grease floating on top of it that it must have been a meat sauce of some kind (and I don't think this was chicken). Desserts.....well hubby really enjoyed the peanut butter cookies even though they were labeled as white chocolate chip cookies. I try to be careful to eat very little sugar so I looked for sugar free or low sugar desserts. Sugar free white cake was on the label but chocolate cake was underneath. I asked the lady behind the counter for help. She obviously thought I was really pathetic when I couldn't tell which cake was sugar free and even more so when the plate I picked up had something green growing on it so I handed it to her. She held it in her hand, not knowing what to do. Pretty sure she put it back on the display after wiping off the green substance.
Lima beans, cooked cabbage. Almost rock hard hush puppies (no fish to go with them unless you would consider the fake crab salad as fish.....it did have tartar sauce with it so maybe that was the intent). An overflowing sink right behind the salad bar. We laughed. And we laughed. And we are still laughing! Might as well. We were together. We were relaxed. And we made the best of an interesting situation. Oh.....and we didn't overeat.
Now here we were, eating out. Fine dining. Well not really. It was a buffet and recommended by the nice lady at the front desk of our hotel. As we approached the restaurant we noticed that we were racial minorities. Not a problem. We are not racists in any way. But with current events that were being broadcast across every news channel and being in unfamiliar surroundings, it was definitely something you couldn't help but notice.
Getting out of our car and walking to the door, we saw a family getting into their vehicle right at the front door. A woman was helping an obviously very ill man into the van. As we got nearer I realized he was getting into the driver's seat, a fact that was very alarming because of his obvious multiple physical illnesses including a catheter hanging over the top of his pants. After giving him a last shove into the driver's seat, the woman assisting him quickly turned and almost plowed down my husband as she hurried back into the restaurant. "I dropped my toothpick!" she announced, as she hurried in for a replacement.
Once inside, I noticed the familiar smell of old, not so clean, eating establishments. The smell has always given me the impression that there is a lot of old grease hanging around and probably a rodent or two or twenty. But we were there and in line. The manager directed us to a completely empty dining area in the back. Again, we are not racist. But we could not help but feel like we were being ushered to the back of the bus. We later realized that the waiter assigned to that area had absolutely no customers and we were apparently bait for others to come sit in the back so he would have some customers.
Now this was a well known chain restaurant so I won't mention any names. But our local restaurant of the same name always has an amazing variety of food, very well cooked, labeled and delicious. We were tired and thought we could surely find something we could eat. I headed for the salad bar and hubby headed for the meats. I noticed, behind the salad bar, a display of produce that looked much like a grocery store display. It even included a huge cardboard box sitting in the middle of the work area and marked "watermelon" on the side.
We made our selections and sat down at our table, now being joined by another couple who chose to sit at the very next table behind my husband even though the room was completely open except for us. My salad was ok. Very little variety of salad items but it was ok. However, the fluffy rolls that we are used to were instead very hard, chewy rolls that very well may have been left over from previous days and would have never been served at our local family buffet. Hubby bit into a deviled egg and I asked him how it was. He said it wasn't as good as the ones I make. I thought he was just being nice until I tried one for myself. Oh my. It actually tasted like soap! I couldn't finish it.
Still attempting to find something edible, we made another round at the buffet. Hubby came back to the table and asked "Just how many ways can you cook chicken anyway?" Used to having chicken, beef, pork and fish to choose from, this place wasn't even close. On a subsequent buffet trip, hubby checked out the chicken. Baked, fried, some with barbecue sauce poured over it, Asian, on the bone, off the bone, in soup. Chicken enchiladas that were crispy on the ends and tasted freezer burned in the middle. You could just about name it chicken-wise and it was there.
And our waiter. Carl. Well Carl was not much on making eye contact. In fact, Carl wasn't much on watching anything. While I was perusing the buffet at one point, Carl came to our table and refilled our drinks, running mine over to the point that hubby had to grab napkins and clean up the table as Carl went on his merry way, oblivious to the fact that anything had even happened.
Still trying to find something edible, I began to notice things mislabeled. Rigatoni noodles labeled as spaghetti. Sauce that was labeled marinara had so much grease floating on top of it that it must have been a meat sauce of some kind (and I don't think this was chicken). Desserts.....well hubby really enjoyed the peanut butter cookies even though they were labeled as white chocolate chip cookies. I try to be careful to eat very little sugar so I looked for sugar free or low sugar desserts. Sugar free white cake was on the label but chocolate cake was underneath. I asked the lady behind the counter for help. She obviously thought I was really pathetic when I couldn't tell which cake was sugar free and even more so when the plate I picked up had something green growing on it so I handed it to her. She held it in her hand, not knowing what to do. Pretty sure she put it back on the display after wiping off the green substance.
Lima beans, cooked cabbage. Almost rock hard hush puppies (no fish to go with them unless you would consider the fake crab salad as fish.....it did have tartar sauce with it so maybe that was the intent). An overflowing sink right behind the salad bar. We laughed. And we laughed. And we are still laughing! Might as well. We were together. We were relaxed. And we made the best of an interesting situation. Oh.....and we didn't overeat.
Saturday, August 9, 2014
Obedience and the King
Fresh off a trip to Memphis on the eve of Elvis Week, I have some funny stuff to tell. And I will. But this blog is going to be on a more serious side.
Many years go, as I've written about before, I had an opportunity to speak with Evangelist Rick Stanley, Elvis Presley's step-brother. Rick had gone from poverty to being the little brother of the King of Rock -n- Roll. He went from having nothing to having anything he could imagine. Rick wrote a book called "The Touch of Two Kings", about the King of Rock -n- Roll and the King of Kings. I couldn't help but think about that as we walked thru Graceland.
Walking in the front door, I felt kinda like I was walking into someone's private home, invading their privacy. Is this is the way Elvis would have wanted it? The decor reminded me of the Brady Bunch Movies where the family was still living in the 70s even though it was many years in the future. This 'mansion' was not even close to the mansions of today. Not that I've visited that many mansions lately of course.
The kitchen was small. Not at all what I expected. Don't know what I really expected. And I'm sure it was state of the art for it's day. I couldn't help but notice the back stairs, by the kitchen, that were not mentioned on the tour. Was that where Elvis came down to have his fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches?
A different side of Elvis was revealed as we went to the building where his trophies, gold records and other awards were housed. Did you know Elvis gave thousands to charities and gave concerts to raise money for those in need? He paid bills for families who couldn't afford medical bills. Perhaps because he grew up in poverty, I don't know. But it was nice to learn anyway. With all the awards displayed, you would think Elvis attended tons of awards shows and programs. But he didn't. He went to one. The only one he attended was one where he was named one of the Jaycee's Ten Outstanding Young Men of America. Maybe he wasn't always about putting on a show and getting attention.
With all the gold records and other awards, you might think he would have had quite a few Grammy Awards. He didn't. Elvis won three Grammys. All for Gospel music. The tour of Graceland included a recording of Lisa Marie telling of how she loved hearing her dad sing "How Great Thou Art" and how in awe she was of him when he sang it. Did Elvis miss his real calling perhaps? Maybe God really wanted him to reach the world for Him. Maybe in a way, that's what Elvis did perhaps.
It was quite well known that Elvis didn't exactly live what is commonly known to be a Christian life. He was raised in a Christian home. He claimed to be a born again Christian, and I have no doubt he was. But is it possible that he died so young because he was not being obedient to the Father? The King of Rock -n- Roll died at the young age of 42. The Word tells us that we can't serve two masters. We either follow the Lord or we follow the devil. We can't have a little of one and a lot of the other. It's either or. Not some. Not a little bit. Not half and half. It's all or none.
You've probably heard of John 3:16. But have you heard of Revelation 3:16? "So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth." Verse 17 goes on to tell us that people who think they are rich or have everything don't realize that they are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. Elvis knew the truth when he was younger. Is it possible that fame and fortune blinded him to that truth over the years?
No doubt Elvis would have done some things differently had he had the chance to do it all over again. Obedience to the Lord would have most likely been at the top of his list. And I highly doubt he would like it that today so much money is spent on basically idol worship, especially during Elvis Week. Flattered maybe. But I'm pretty sure he would prefer his Lord be glorified and not himself.
How about you? Are you a lukewarm Christian? Remember what the Word says about that? Or are you living an obedient life and honoring the Lord? He didn't say we can't have fun. Not at all! But if we are not honoring Him with our whole lives, are we really honoring Him at all? Hmmmm....
Many years go, as I've written about before, I had an opportunity to speak with Evangelist Rick Stanley, Elvis Presley's step-brother. Rick had gone from poverty to being the little brother of the King of Rock -n- Roll. He went from having nothing to having anything he could imagine. Rick wrote a book called "The Touch of Two Kings", about the King of Rock -n- Roll and the King of Kings. I couldn't help but think about that as we walked thru Graceland.
Walking in the front door, I felt kinda like I was walking into someone's private home, invading their privacy. Is this is the way Elvis would have wanted it? The decor reminded me of the Brady Bunch Movies where the family was still living in the 70s even though it was many years in the future. This 'mansion' was not even close to the mansions of today. Not that I've visited that many mansions lately of course.
The kitchen was small. Not at all what I expected. Don't know what I really expected. And I'm sure it was state of the art for it's day. I couldn't help but notice the back stairs, by the kitchen, that were not mentioned on the tour. Was that where Elvis came down to have his fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches?
A different side of Elvis was revealed as we went to the building where his trophies, gold records and other awards were housed. Did you know Elvis gave thousands to charities and gave concerts to raise money for those in need? He paid bills for families who couldn't afford medical bills. Perhaps because he grew up in poverty, I don't know. But it was nice to learn anyway. With all the awards displayed, you would think Elvis attended tons of awards shows and programs. But he didn't. He went to one. The only one he attended was one where he was named one of the Jaycee's Ten Outstanding Young Men of America. Maybe he wasn't always about putting on a show and getting attention.
With all the gold records and other awards, you might think he would have had quite a few Grammy Awards. He didn't. Elvis won three Grammys. All for Gospel music. The tour of Graceland included a recording of Lisa Marie telling of how she loved hearing her dad sing "How Great Thou Art" and how in awe she was of him when he sang it. Did Elvis miss his real calling perhaps? Maybe God really wanted him to reach the world for Him. Maybe in a way, that's what Elvis did perhaps.
It was quite well known that Elvis didn't exactly live what is commonly known to be a Christian life. He was raised in a Christian home. He claimed to be a born again Christian, and I have no doubt he was. But is it possible that he died so young because he was not being obedient to the Father? The King of Rock -n- Roll died at the young age of 42. The Word tells us that we can't serve two masters. We either follow the Lord or we follow the devil. We can't have a little of one and a lot of the other. It's either or. Not some. Not a little bit. Not half and half. It's all or none.
You've probably heard of John 3:16. But have you heard of Revelation 3:16? "So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth." Verse 17 goes on to tell us that people who think they are rich or have everything don't realize that they are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. Elvis knew the truth when he was younger. Is it possible that fame and fortune blinded him to that truth over the years?
No doubt Elvis would have done some things differently had he had the chance to do it all over again. Obedience to the Lord would have most likely been at the top of his list. And I highly doubt he would like it that today so much money is spent on basically idol worship, especially during Elvis Week. Flattered maybe. But I'm pretty sure he would prefer his Lord be glorified and not himself.
How about you? Are you a lukewarm Christian? Remember what the Word says about that? Or are you living an obedient life and honoring the Lord? He didn't say we can't have fun. Not at all! But if we are not honoring Him with our whole lives, are we really honoring Him at all? Hmmmm....
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
25 Years Ago In the Middle of the Night
Yes it was in the middle of the night. We weren't sure of the exact time. He said 1:30 AM and I said it was closer to 1:45. We compromised with 1:38AM so that's what time it was. That's when we got married.
While an elopement was not really planned, I was never a big wedding kinda girl. Since almost hubby didn't want to wait a long time, on the morning of August 4th (which is now our middle son's birthday and we had a fun family celebration yesterday), I told him about a wedding chapel I remembered in Eureka Springs, AR. I had noticed it on our way to Branson, MO the week before. By noon it was planned that we would arrive around midnight to 12:30AM.
Over the years I've learned that seldom do we ever arrive anywhere at the planned time if any of the Parks males are involved. They are on time for work. But they all seem to think church, weddings, funerals, family meals, movies and trips will start when they arrive and not a minute sooner. So that's why we arrived closer to 1:30 at Miracle Mansion Wedding Chapel that night. And that's why our anniversary is August 5th and not August 4th. But it's ok. It's a fun story. And our daughter and I are learning that spending time in the car waiting for a Parks male or two is just a fact of life for us.
Ok so yesterday we celebrated our son's birthday. An afternoon lunch with the whole family. His favorite strawberry pie at home for dessert. As we settled down for the evening, we decided to partake of our Chili Cheese Fritos a few hours early. Chili Cheese Fritos had just become popular that summer we married and that's what we ate on our two and a half hour drive in the middle of the night 25 years ago. As I opened the bag last night, hubby said it wasn't midnight yet but I said I thought it would be alright. It was close enough. Besides, we are a little older now and I wasn't so sure those Fritos would sit well on our stomachs after midnight.
After enjoying our snack, we relaxed in the living room in front of the TV. He in his recliner and me on the couch, we enjoyed a rousing game of Words With Friends. Rousing. Right. He actually fell asleep and played a three point word, waking to the sound of my phone receiving the play! In his mind it is an absolute travesty to play a word for only 3 points. So he decided to have more snacks to stay awake. But I fell asleep on the couch.
We really should have thought that 1:38AM wedding thru. I'm a stickler for celebrating at the very moment things happened. For example, our son who's birthday we celebrated yesterday was born at 5:39PM so he wasn't officially 22 until 5:39PM. We tried so hard to stay awake until 1:38AM this morning. By midnight we were in bed with the puppy sleeping between hubby's feet and mine. We were still barely awake at midnight and the birthday boy told us "Happy Anniversary" just before we fell asleep.
Not to give up the opportunity for this once in a lifetime event, we set an alarm so we would be awake at 1:38AM. It went off. We woke up, said Happy Anniversary, kiss kiss, and back to sleep. Well, back to sleep after I woke the dog. She was sound asleep, stretched out flat and didn't appear to be breathing. I feared we had somehow squished her with our feet. Of course hubby immediately asked just how on earth would we have killed her in such a manner. (Yes, he is much more practical than I in most situations.) Guess I didn't think that idea thru very well either. She's 11 lbs of crazy fluff and probably would have loudly voiced her opinion had either of us come close to kicking her in our sleep.
25 years from now, we will probably have our Chili Cheese Frito snack a little earlier even than we did this year. When we go to bed at 8PM after watching a 90 year old Pat Sajak spin the wheel and an 80 year old Vanna White turn those letters, we will set the alarm for 1:38AM, wake up, say "Happy Anniversary", take turns in going to the bathroom, and go back to sleep. Advise to young people getting married? It really doesn't matter what time of the day....or night....you get married. Put God first no matter what. Love and respect each other above all others. And always forgive.
While an elopement was not really planned, I was never a big wedding kinda girl. Since almost hubby didn't want to wait a long time, on the morning of August 4th (which is now our middle son's birthday and we had a fun family celebration yesterday), I told him about a wedding chapel I remembered in Eureka Springs, AR. I had noticed it on our way to Branson, MO the week before. By noon it was planned that we would arrive around midnight to 12:30AM.
Over the years I've learned that seldom do we ever arrive anywhere at the planned time if any of the Parks males are involved. They are on time for work. But they all seem to think church, weddings, funerals, family meals, movies and trips will start when they arrive and not a minute sooner. So that's why we arrived closer to 1:30 at Miracle Mansion Wedding Chapel that night. And that's why our anniversary is August 5th and not August 4th. But it's ok. It's a fun story. And our daughter and I are learning that spending time in the car waiting for a Parks male or two is just a fact of life for us.
Ok so yesterday we celebrated our son's birthday. An afternoon lunch with the whole family. His favorite strawberry pie at home for dessert. As we settled down for the evening, we decided to partake of our Chili Cheese Fritos a few hours early. Chili Cheese Fritos had just become popular that summer we married and that's what we ate on our two and a half hour drive in the middle of the night 25 years ago. As I opened the bag last night, hubby said it wasn't midnight yet but I said I thought it would be alright. It was close enough. Besides, we are a little older now and I wasn't so sure those Fritos would sit well on our stomachs after midnight.
After enjoying our snack, we relaxed in the living room in front of the TV. He in his recliner and me on the couch, we enjoyed a rousing game of Words With Friends. Rousing. Right. He actually fell asleep and played a three point word, waking to the sound of my phone receiving the play! In his mind it is an absolute travesty to play a word for only 3 points. So he decided to have more snacks to stay awake. But I fell asleep on the couch.
We really should have thought that 1:38AM wedding thru. I'm a stickler for celebrating at the very moment things happened. For example, our son who's birthday we celebrated yesterday was born at 5:39PM so he wasn't officially 22 until 5:39PM. We tried so hard to stay awake until 1:38AM this morning. By midnight we were in bed with the puppy sleeping between hubby's feet and mine. We were still barely awake at midnight and the birthday boy told us "Happy Anniversary" just before we fell asleep.
Not to give up the opportunity for this once in a lifetime event, we set an alarm so we would be awake at 1:38AM. It went off. We woke up, said Happy Anniversary, kiss kiss, and back to sleep. Well, back to sleep after I woke the dog. She was sound asleep, stretched out flat and didn't appear to be breathing. I feared we had somehow squished her with our feet. Of course hubby immediately asked just how on earth would we have killed her in such a manner. (Yes, he is much more practical than I in most situations.) Guess I didn't think that idea thru very well either. She's 11 lbs of crazy fluff and probably would have loudly voiced her opinion had either of us come close to kicking her in our sleep.
25 years from now, we will probably have our Chili Cheese Frito snack a little earlier even than we did this year. When we go to bed at 8PM after watching a 90 year old Pat Sajak spin the wheel and an 80 year old Vanna White turn those letters, we will set the alarm for 1:38AM, wake up, say "Happy Anniversary", take turns in going to the bathroom, and go back to sleep. Advise to young people getting married? It really doesn't matter what time of the day....or night....you get married. Put God first no matter what. Love and respect each other above all others. And always forgive.
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