2010 May

The Nineteenth of May

May 19, 2010 By Heather 7 Comments

This past week I have been thinking lots of my Grandma Billie.

Sitting in my neighbor’s backyard chatting with her the other day was bliss as the memories washed over me.

The metal patio chairs, the flowers, the dogs, and the bitter sweet smell of black coffee that was drank all day long.

Last week at the grocery store a jar of dried meat caught my eye.

My grandmother had a whole set of these jars that we used as glasses.

Although I had no clue they were jars from meat she used to make us Shit on a Shingle.

I would trace my fingers along the rim of the glass, feeling those raised stars under my finger tips.

I found myself doing the same thing with it yesterday while I drank my tea from that glass. Its now my favorite.

Today is her birthday. My birthday is next week. We would always celebrate our birthdays by going to Higbee’s & getting me some new summer clothes and going to Woolworth’s for their Strawberry Shortcakes that were Fresh! and For a Limited Time Only! according to the banners in the mall.

I remember the yellowish lighting inside the cafe. The plastic seats that my little short clad legs stuck to. I remember feeling so special that she took me out all by myself.

I am not sure what today holds, but I will be sure to stop and smell the roses, as they were her favorite.

Filed Under: enjoying life, missing my grandma, savoring every moment because before you know it they will be gone

Flashback Friday-The Bucket Seat Edition

May 14, 2010 By Heather 1 Comment

Remember last week when I told you about the flurry of vehicles that we had during my childhood?

My sister made a comment on my facebook page about how I should share the fun of the bucket seats in the vans.

I am sure that most of you are thinking, why Heather, most van have bucket seats. Its called the driver and passenger seats.

And I (and probably my siblings) would laugh hysterically at you, for hours.

My dad had a power washing business and so the box vans were used so that he could house the power washer and the
needed supplies, along with the water tank.

I have no idea how many gallons that water tank held, but I do know that it took hours to fill up.

Also, it didn’t have a lid and wasn’t bolted down. Just a giant water tank using the powers of its weight and gravity to stay in place.

If you hit the brakes too hard the tank would sometimes shift a bit. The water would slosh around and you would get soaked
in a way that would rival the splash zone at Sea World.

In fact, I do believe once that I went to Sea World and sat in the splash zone & came away drier than I did when I was on my way to work one time sitting on the bucket seats in the van.

Ah, yes….the Bucket Seats.

The chemicals & supplies my dad got for the power washing business came in 5 gallon buckets. We had stacks of them all
over the house and more importantly all over the inside of the van.

You see on big jobs you didn’t just take two people to the job, most of the time it was three to five people going to the job site.

So instead of getting another vehicle that would be able to carry us all safely to our destination with you know, the little
luxuries of things like seats and perhaps seat belts, we got a bucket flipped upside down in the back of the van between the water tank that wasn’t bolted down and the front seats of the van.

There is a certain way to sit on the bucket seat so you wouldn’t slide around. It was almost like an art form.

Your feet had to be firmly planted and your legs had to be spread apart just so. You had to have your arms ready to brace yourself on turns.

And of course, you had to be ready for the icy cold splash of the water from the tank.

Complaining got you nowhere quickly. If you told Dad about how your butt was sore or you were tired of sliding around on the bucket he would regale you with tales of his childhood. Possibly the fact that he had to carry the giant water tank up hill in the snow both ways. He would tell us how good us kids had it. And if we didn’t like the bucket we could always sit on the floor.

I can’t remember any of us giving up our bucket, although I do remember one of the employees doing it once.

He was always on a bucket after that drive. Always.

Would you like to play along? Do you have a story from your childhood that you would like to share?
Feel free to post a link at your place and link up here, or share your story in the comments.

Filed Under: Uncategorized

No I am not a Stalker, I just play one on the Internet

May 10, 2010 By Heather 3 Comments

At Blissdom I had the pleasure of being within licking distance of Arianne.

The amazing & wonderful woman who got me tickets to Yanni.

She is amazing and wonderful & why I didn’t walk up and hug her and introduce myself, I don’t know.

Okay, I do know. But, I am still kicking myself for not hugging her.

Anyways.

After Blissdom I went to pick up Giggles from school.

Now her school doesn’t have a pickup lane, I just park on a side street by the school and she comes to the van.

While sitting waiting for her to come out this girl walks past my van & I do a double take.

I send out a tweet.

And I keep seeing this girl so much & tweeting about it to Arianne, that she says I should get a photo of her.

So now I have to try to capture this girl, while I am in my van and she is walking home from school, in a totally not creepy way.

The Chicken says I should just roll down my window and tell the girl that I want to post her photo on the internet.

Yeah, that’s totally non creepy and not stalker-esque AT ALL. Also, I am a bit concerned for who The Chicken might be letting take her picture. Because you know, they are only going to post it on the internet.

So, each day since Feb. 16th I have had my camera ready. And each day this girl failed to show up so I could capture her in a totally non creepy way.

I felt like such a failure.

Until last week, I spotted her. She was with a group of teenagers, but that was okay…I could capture her in the wild. It would be cool.

It was cool until I think they saw that I was trying to take her photo and they all stopped under the awning of this building waiting for their ride. The Chicken thinks that it was because it was, you know, raining….but I think she felt the stalker vibe and decided not to pose.

Come on Arianne’s high school twinsie….I swear I am not a stalker, I just play one on the internets.

Filed Under: I am not a stalker, things I do for the internet, this is why I should never pick up my girls from school

For Them

May 10, 2010 By Heather 10 Comments

I hate photos of myself.

Hate them lots.

I try to only post the ‘perfect’ photos.

But if I was honest with myself, I would know that no photo is perfect.

I need to get in front of the camera more.

Post the photos that have the parts of me that I don’t like.

The parts I wish I could do away with.

Embrace the beauty inside myself.

Reclaim it and own it and be proud of who I am.

Not just for me, but for them.

taken Mother’s Day 2010 after work for one & softball practice for the other.
It was a great day and I am thankful to have them with me to celebrate.

Filed Under: embracing me, I am not perfect but I am made perfectly in His image, Mother's Day 2010

Flashback Friday-The El Camino Edition

May 7, 2010 By Heather 4 Comments

Growing up we had a flurry of vehicles.

I honestly couldn’t tell you how many we had.

I know we had coutnless trucks, especially when Dad had his roofing business.

We also had plenty of box vans for when he did the power washing.

I remember a red chrysler that they got fairly new and they were super excited about that.

Then there was the Cadillac that we inherited from my grandfather when he passed away.
It was a beauty in its time, but in our time it smelled like something had died in it.
My Dad claimed it was from the sunroof leaking into the car, but I don’t remember ever opening up that trunk.

Then there was the El Camino.

I think we had it when I was in 1st or 2nd grade. During the summer it was the family car.

When it was nice out we got to sit in the bed of it. They always made sure we sat on the bed and not the sides.
If Dad caught you sitting on the sides he would yell out the back window that if he took a turn quick and we fell off
we had better not get hurt because we were walking home.

When it was raining we all crammed inside of the car. At my mom’s there were 4 kids and my parents…you do the squishy math.

I remember that the floorboards weren’t in the greatest shape. I am not sure if it was before or after we sold it to
my parent’s friend that you could watch the road as you drove down it.

But the thing I remember the most about the El Camino was its leather, or perhaps its vinyl seats.
Since this is my memory, and I want to remember it classier, we are going with leather.

In the summer the seats would get hot and when Dad sat down in his shorty shorts, (I swear they were like Daisy Dukes for
guys, I have no idea what the 80′s were thinking when they thought that look was cool) he would burn the back of his legs.
We got to hear some choice words about that seat while he tried to drive while not sitting down on the seat so it would cool.

Did I mention my dad was 6’2″, trying not to sit on the seat while he drove down the road in the El Camino.

I have no idea how he discovered this or where he got it, but he found that an American Flag fit perfectly across the seat.

It tucked nice, it didn’t slide around, and you could slide in and out pretty easily with it.

I remember someone questioning his patriotism with his whole “Let’s use the Flag to Cover the Hot Seat Theory” and let me tell
you he was a bit ticked.

I mean how could that not show your pride for America.

In his words, “It takes guts to show this level of love for your country. The flag goes with me everywhere. Plus, its not my fault
that it fits perfectly across the seat of the El Camino. If they didn’t want me to use it as a cover they should have made it a different size.”

So, in a sense, its all Betsy Ross’s fault that my dad took his patriotism to a whole new level, plus it never did touch the ground. Asses, yes….ground, nope.

So now everytime I see an El Camino drive down the road for some reason I start humming God Bless America.
And of course, think of my Dad.

Each Friday I post a story from my childhood that is almost too crazy to be true. If you care to join me next week
I will have a linky ready for us to use.

With a dad like mine, I have more than I can count. Which is good for you to start your Fridays laughing out loud at my childhood.

Because seriously, if I didn’t laugh I would probably cry. And people, I am an ugly crier

Filed Under: flashback friday, my dad and his traditions, seriously folks this was my childhood

Next time I am going to ask for more people to toss money in my general direction

May 4, 2010 By Heather 6 Comments

Over the weekend I was trying to convince Jeremy that he needed to learn how to play the harmonica.

He kept refusing. His ~~really lame~~ excuse was that he didn’t ‘Have the Music in Him.’

“But honey, there aren’t really enough people out there playing the harmonica. Its like a dying instrument!” I cry to him.

Of course, he didn’t agree to play the harmonica, but totally turned it around on me.

“If you think that there needs to be more harmonica players out there, you should take up playing.”

“That would be great, but I just want to get a groove on while listening to the harmonica playing, that’s why you should totally do it.”

He laughed at me & then he turned on Pandora so we could listen to some music. The first song started out with a harmonica solo.

If this wasn’t a sign that he should be playing harmonica then I don’t know what is. He said the universe was just trying to distract me and shut me up.

Maybe he was right.

Fast forward to last night and the Mother/Daughter Banquet at my mother’s church.

At each place setting there was a plastic harmonica. I took it as a bigger sign that Jeremy should totally take up the harmonica.

Then after dinner we headed upstairs for our entertainment.

The girls rolled their eyes, while my niece was so very excited. So excited that I got to take her to the front of the sanctuary so she could get a closer look.

After about 45 minutes of harmonica playing, I had had enough of its awesomeness. In fact, I didn’t really think the harmonica was that awesome anymore.

I really do hate when the Universe & my husband get together to prove a point to me.

And that point is that there really isn’t enough people out there tossing random twenty dollar bills in our direction.

Someone should really get on that.

Filed Under: a day in my life, conversations with my husband, things I think we need more of

To Mildred From Mom 12-25-47

May 3, 2010 By Heather 5 Comments

Mildred was my grandmother. She passed away the summer before my 5th grade year.

She liked to travel.

She enjoyed a bowl of grape nuts before bed each night.

Before she lost her vision she loved to knit & sew.

Her favorite book of the bible was Ruth.

She knew all of the hymns in our church hymnal by heart.

She loved to sing.

She didn’t like it when I took her denture cream and glued pennies to her side table.

She also didn’t like it when I glued the same pennies together in a stack.

She loved her family fiercely and with all of her heart.

I know so much about her, yet so little.

For years my mother had a watch that I loved. Each time I would go over to her house I would look through the jewelry in her chest, especially the jewelry that she had inherited from others. I would wind that watch up and slide it on my wrist. Always hoping that my mother would offer it up to me.

I always thought that watch was my great grandmother’s. And I know that my mother doesn’t have many things from her, so I never wanted to ask for it. But I thought my sighs and general love of that watch would make her want to give it to me.

Last night I was over at my mother’s and decided to finally ask about Great Grandma’s watch. She looked at me a bit confused, but we went to her jewelry chest so I could show her which watch I was talking about.

It turns out that this watch that I have been lusting after for years and years didn’t even belong to my Great Grandmother, it was my Grandma’s. Given to her by Great Grandma on Christmas in 1947.

This watch that I have known all of these years. This watch that I could feel in my hands when I didn’t even have it, was a watch that I didn’t know at all.

I never noticed the inscription on the back of the watch. But now, its something I will cherish forever.