"Poor Folks That We Were"

I was standing over my chair folding laundry. Some of the laundry came from the dryer from the forgotten load of last week. I am forever forgetting that last load. I noticed hubby's shirts were wrinkled. DIL's comment on a questionarrie came to mind..Pet peeves..wrinkled clothes. I busted out laughing!

I then got to thinking about when I was a kid. Yes, we ran around in the wrinklest clothes you ever saw! There was teasing from fellow students, but I was yet to learn the solution to the problem. I'm not even sure we owned an iron. Anyway when I was a kid we went to the laundry mat. "Poor folks that we were" we had to go about this in a system. First there was the food stamps, you know the paper ones from way back. Momma would send each child into the store with one dollar, we had to get just one piece of penny candy (remember those) and bring back the change. The change then became the laundry money. Again, "Poor folks that we were" we didn't have a car. The solution to this problem was to always have a shopping cart from the local grocery store at the house. We would stuff as many clothes as we could (for our large family of 6) into pillowcases or lay out a sheet and fill it up and tie the ends together. Stuff all this into the shopping cart and push it about two miles to the laundry mat. Most of the time this was me pushing and demanding the rugrats (my three much smaller siblings) to hold hands, stay out of the road, stop running off, don't eat thaaaaat! Fun times (NOT)!

You must know though that this was a step up in our world. Going to the laundry mat was hitting the high times. It was a heck of a lot better than filling the bathtub up with soapy water dumping the laundry in and putting the smaller kids in to stomp on the clothes, repeat the process for rinsing, then bend over the tub and wringe everything out and hang it all out to dry. Chapped hands anyone! Especially hated when the freeze came overnight and your clothes were still on the line, frozen stiff! There was many a times when I would go to school in wet clothes. Sooo yeah, going to the laundry mat was a huge step up. Except for the embarrassment factor.

Back to the laundry mat...We get there. The process of doing laundry took hours, the kids would get bored, fuss, cry, tantums were common. Finally the laundry in the dryers come to a stop. Hopefully they are done, cuase money was scarce and I had to stuff as much as I could in them. Sometimes I even had to bring them home still damp. Well with the kids and the massive amounts of laundry and the time (and my patience) running out, I very rarely folded anything (I think I remember folding them three times). I would just stuff them back into the pillowcases, load everything up and we would walk the two miles back.

Now the reason we never had unwrinkled clothes is because those pillowcases full of clothes rarely ever got folded. Yeah, dad bellowed all the time for me to fold them, but seriously after the excursion I went through, that was the last thing I wanted to do. I did my duty even though I hated every minute of it, but I was done! Let someone else do it! (Gawd I was an awful child)

It's funny now that I think about it, in just a few short years later..Wrinkled clothes where in fashion! LOL! You know the long skirts that you purposely twisted to get that broomstick look. I was ahead of my time! LMAO!

Now I do fold my clothes fresh from the dryer, except for that forever forgotten last load. Thanks DIL for the laugh and memory!

Writer's Workshop: Favorite Actors from my Childhood, Plus One I Adore!

I chose writing prompt #1..What actors from childhood do you think about?

When I was a kid my favorite actors were:

First and forever there was Michael Landon:
Little Joe Cartwright in Bonanza
Pa-Charles Ingalls in Little House on the Prairie(I soo wanted him to be my daddy)
Jonathan Smith in Highway to Heaven
Then there was Lorne Greene:
Ben Cartwright in Bonanza
Adama in Battlestar Galactica
And of course there was Victor French:
Isaiah Edwards in Little House on the Prairie
Mark Gordon in Highway to Heaven
I can't forget Parker Stevenson:
Frank Hardy in The Hardy Boys/Nancy Drew Mysteries
Craig Pomeroy in Baywatch
Now we get to the man that makes me catch my breathe everytime I hear him speak. The most amazing Sam Elliot:
Gar in Mask
Wade Garrett in Roadhouse
I'm thinking..Wild Bill Hickcock in Buffalo Girls
Virgil Earp in Tombstone
Just to name a few, cause there are soo many more movies he was in that where great.
Ohhhh yeeeaaahhhhhhh!!!!
Excuse me...Brain overload

Hope that was fun for yall!

Grateful for my Poverty.

Today was a time to be grateful for what little I do have.

My childhood friend called today just to have some one to listen to her and hear her woes. We have talked many times in the last few months since we got reconnected and it has been great getting to know her again, but something in me is off. I feel a great sadness for what all she has been through and what these things have lead her life to. I guess I thought that with age comes wisdom, but for some reason this doesn't seem to be the case. Maybe I said that wrong, it's not that she hasn't learnt wisdom from her experiences, but it doesn't seem to have gotten her to change the path her life has been on for all of her life.

When I first met her she was just as poverty stricken as we were. Only difference was we were a family of 6 and they were just her and her mom. My dad worked his scrawny butt off to provide for his large family and they got a monthly check from the VA. I remember a time when she and I was talking and I learned that the check they got was for a thousand dollars a month. I was in jaw dropping awe! I couldn't understand how come they couldn't make it, when their money was 200 more than dads money. To tell ya the truth I still don't get it.

They rented just like us. They didn't have a car just like us. They struggled for food just like us. And so on and so on. Our lives were nearly exact, except for the size. They moved nearly as much as we did, but for different reasons. Our reason was crappy landlords that didn't want to fix the places up. They moved in the search for something better. At least I think that is why they moved all the time. I can't be positive, it may be something deeper that I never knew about. I do know of a few times it was to get away from all the drama in their lives or to just leave it all behind them and start fresh in a new place. I understand that to a degree, I did the same thing when I moved away from that town and came here.

Any way what I was trying to get at is that for some reason her life hasn't changed at all. They are still in the extreme struggling mode every month. They still move from one place to the next, it is almost as if they get restless after a few years and have to start over in order to keep things in chaos. Her life is chaos to me and for that feeling, I am upset with myself. It was a long time ago that I was in the same situation, but surely I didn't forget. I have become comfortable with my life, stable hubby, stable house, stable income (Most of the time, except for in the winter).

I guess in my mind all them years we were apart, I figured her life to have become like mine. Settled, fixed, stable. I was expecting to hear about her long lasting relationship and the wonderful hubby, the place she has been working, the house they finally found after searching for so long and the kids all doing well in school (even collage perhaps), blah blah blah. Basically I figured her life to actually have turned out better than mine. Reality check, this did not happen for her. None of it actually, except for the good boyfriend for the last 2 years and one child who left home at a young age and got an opportunity for himself and is currently in college. Well at least there is that, right?

For me all the moving around as a child lead me to NEVER want to move! The chaos of boyfriend after boyfriend lead me to hold on tight to the best man I stumbled across. Just kidding but you know what I mean, right?

The finances of poverty lead me to sacrifice all niceties just to make sure the bills were paid and food on the table, for me that comes first above all else! I will wash my hair with dish soap, if that is all I can afford to do. I will not drive my truck more than absolutely necessary (like 8 miles a week, most weeks). I will not eat out, when it is soo much cheaper to eat at home. I will not buy those jeans or tennies I need, if it means not paying something. This is something I have learned (Through our phone convos)that she still hasn't learned.

Like she was just today, returning a wanted item just so she could get some needed items.

My life is not all that it could be, but at least I don't have to worry about paying the bills or having at least some food on the tv tray. Even if we do eat chili or spaghetti three nights in a row or a brisket for a week, at least we have food.

I just never thought our lives would be soo different. I know I have changed and some would say "Hey what happened to that wild and crazy girl?", But I say (after learning what happens if you stay that way) "Thank goodness she got lost somewhere along the way!" I can NOW imagine just how my life would be, if I hadn't had changed my life and mindset around. I would be right there along side her struggling for every morsel, every roof and in as much emotional pain.

Maybe our losing each other way back when was an unforeseen blessing. Is it wrong that I am having a difficult time with all of this? I am finding myself pulling away from talking to her as much and I feel awful about it. Like I am betraying our friendship over something that she has no control over. She is who she is and I feel like I need to step down off my short pedestal and be there for her, but I am finding that difficult without getting angry at her for not trying to change her situation (even just a smidgen). It's like I knew her, but I'm not understanding the woman that she has become. I don't know how to get past this ugly feeling of disappointment.

*Sigh*

Well anyway, this has all made just a little more aware of just how grateful I am of how my life is/has turned out and appreciate all the more of what little I do have. It could definitely be worse, as I am slowly remembering (I guess I did kinda forget) and learning.

First Memorable Sunburn

Searching through the last few writing prompts from the Writer's Workshop, looking for something to activate my brain.

"It was a bad burn. Tell about the worst sunburn you ever received. How did that happen!?!"

Well this one could work but I'm going to change it a little. I'm going to tell you of the first sunburn I remember getting.

I was 11 years old and we were having a yard sale. We were preparing for our journey across the world. (Well that is how it felt at the time!) We was headed to the wasteland of Texas. From what I had see in the westerns on the tv, it was a land of desert with no trees and mirages of water. I was scared, worried and very much in protest, not just in words but in actions too.

I was told that I had to down size all my belonging to ONE small suitcase. We was selling everything for money for the trip. I mean everything, from clothes to toys to beds. I trudged around in a sour face at every purchase that was made of my things. It was bad enough that I was being taken from my friends, grandparents and even my cat, but to have to watch these strangers walk off with my treasured toys was unbearable. Everything that I forced into my suitcase was at least safe.

I was dressed in a girls undershirt and a skirt. For those of you who have no clue what a girls undershirt is Except mine had lace around the edging, with a little bow at the neckline. Not much different than today's regular shirts.

My dad was yelling at me to go get a shirt on and I was being all rebellious and refused. (What it really was.. I didn't want to let my parents see what I was keeping in fear that they would decided I had to get rid of it.) I guess he got tired of fighting with me, cause I wore that undershirt all day with nothing else on top of it.

The next morning when I woke up my skin was tight and when I tried to move the pain crept in. Yup I had a sunburn on my arms, shoulders, neck and face. I was scared and yet fascinated. I keep remembering me standing in front of the mirror checking it out and touching it, watching the flesh go from red to white and back to red with each touch.

Of course my mothers cure for all things was Epsom salt and Calamine Lotion. So after soaking in a bath of grainy salt, I was lathered up in pink! I was not a pink kinda girl, so you can imagine the horror!

Guess I should have listened to my dads yelling and went and put a shirt on! LOL!

Little did I know, I was moving to the kingdom of many many sunburns!

Spin Cycle: Then and Now

Then.. I wore make-up, LOTS and LOTS of make-up. Must hide and pretend to be someone else!
Now.. Maybe twice a year, I dig out that fake face (that now weighs a fourth of what it used to).

Then.. I colored my hair. I spent sooo much money and time and worry for something so trivial.
Now.. I'm enjoying my grays, they are coming in nicely.

Then.. I bejeweled myself up. It was the thing to do, necklaces, earrings (more than one pair), rings, bracelets, broaches.
Now.. Two rings is all. I prefer to be seen instead of hiding behind the ornamental glow! Today folks have earrings in places I don't even want to know about!

Then.. I spent hours getting my hair perfectly curled and sprayed into place. Sleeping on bulky curlers, burning myself with a curling iron, sweating to the heat of a blow dryer, choking on the cloud of hair spray.
Now.. A ponytail will do. Wash and go!

Then.. I did everything I could to try to look in fashion (Thank goodness fashions were nothing like they are today). Dresses went down to the mid-calves or just above the knee, jeans actually covered ones butt and the wait lines were at the belly button. Shirts covered the essentials!
Now.. I have no clue what happened to the rest of the material in today's fashions. I bought a new shirt and had to give it away cause I was constantly trying to re-adjust it to fit properly, you know..COVER!

Then.. I thought I knew all there was to know.
Now.. I laugh at that thinking!

Then.. I watched cartoons.
Now.. I watch the news. (When the frack did that happen?)

Then.. I loved Freddie!
Now.. What the heck was wrong with me? I can't even hardly watch any of the new horror movies out nowadays. (Sorry Spot) Blood and guts has lost its appeal.

Then.. I could have cared less what was going on in the world unless it messed with MY world.
Now.. well lets not get into that, it's chaos in there (pointing to my head)!

Then.. I would turn the light off and run and jump on my bed so the monsters couldn't grab my feet and drag me under to eat me.
Now.. I sleep with a night light and three dogs as my protectors!

Then.. I lived in a house of filth. Cleaning was high on the list of things I got in trouble for NOT doing.
Now.. I love a clean house and strive everyday to keep that way!

Then.. I wanted, wanted, wanted! Material items, that is. I always felt like we didn't have anything.
Now.. I realise I had all that was important. Family, health and.. well yes, even love.

Then.. Life without music was unthinkable, a crime actually.
Now.. I find that the only music I am exposed to is from the tv in shows or commercials. (My old classmate aka Orchestra conductor would definitely call that a crime!)

Then.. I slept peacefully and at least 8-10 hours.
Now.. Well..crap, I miss that!

Then.. The idea of a computer was sience fiction.
Now.. Well look at us NOW!

I could go on, but I wont. So if you want more on the then and nows, go visit Sprite's Keeper.

Writer's Workshop: Boysitting

This week I choose prompt #5, A memorable babysitting job.


Waaaay back when I was 17-18...

I was married and my husband at the time (NOT my current hubby) had been transferred to a different store in a different town. The commute was long and the graveyard shift was dull and boring. I went along to help keep him awake. A local woman was looking for a babysitter for her 6 boys, ranging in ages of 6 to 12. The job came with a place to stay on their property and it was just blocks from the husbands work. Her husband was a truck driver and she wanted to go with him to help earn extra money.

I was extremely scared to take the job. I mean we are talking BOYS and being responsible for all of them 24/7 was a huge thing to consider. My husband was all for it cause of the location and housing and apparently men are not intimidated by a group of boys. In the end we accepted the job.

She took me through the tour of her house and showed me the ropes of money, chores, food and schedules. In two days of getting to know the boys and there routines the "Parents" were gone. I say "Parents" cause I still felt like a child in soo many aspects, I was instantly terrified! Thankfully the husband was there to enforce the authority and the boys were very kind and on their best behaviors.

What made it memorable other than the boys, that should be memorable enough, RIGHT? Well a few things stand out.

The mother helped me get my drivers license that first weekend they came home, so I could use their van to take the kids places and so she wouldn't have to come home as often. On another weekend they purchased a one ton flatbed pick-up, I got taught how to drive it. That was very intimidating but yet thrilling and powerful too. I always manage to remember her when ever I get my license renewed or look at my birth certificate that she sent away for.

I was exposed to a new religion. Mormon. They weren't the type of Mormons you hear about, they didn't have a harem of wives and kids. They were like the Brady Bunch, him and his kids, her and her kids, makes for one crazy house! I slightly took an interest in their religion till I got to the levels of heaven.

My Grandfather died on my 18th birthday and I went back to Maine for the funeral and to say goodbye to my parents who were staying in Maine. My baby brother bawled his head off and begged me to put him in my suitcase and bring him back with me. The tears flowed for many reasons that week. My husband came up the next day and we left together. At the change over in New York, the husband got his wallet stolen.

I was exposed to the lovely quality of organizing. With six boys, the mother came up with a system for her children. Each child had his own color. This color was on everything that belonged to that child. In the toes of their socks was a loop of that color thread, it was also found on the tags of their clothing, in the waistline of the undergarments. They had their own set of dishes in that color, of which they were responsible for washing. Even their towels were of their own color. There was no confusion of who's stuff belonged to who and blessedly no fighting over things. I found this system to be amazing. She had a chore chart that had that child's color on it for what chores they were to do for that day. When the child did said chores they got a popsicle stick that had been mark with their color and at the end of the week they turned them in for a quarter apiece for their allowance. I also learned the importance of financial organizing.

I took the kids to the city pool for some fun, a good time had been had by all and we stayed till they closed. We got back to the house and all the kids lumbered out of the van and into the house. I let them leave their stuff in the van with the strict instructions to retrieve it in the morning. The next morning we was rushing around getting ready for school and I sent one of them to go get all of their shoes out of the van. The boy rushes back into the house and yells that the van is GONE!
The whole herd went out the door to confirm this. I called the police, the school and then the parents. Come to find out it was a repo. I had experienced my first repo! I'll tell ya though, walking out in the driveway and that van being gone was a moment I will never forget!

I guess the mother felt it was too much hassle to try to keep up with the financial things at home and being out on the road, so she came home. We stayed another two weeks and then moved on.

All of my time with them was an experience that will always be remembered.

Now go visit Mama Kat to join in or just read some more posts.

Train Tracks Of My Youth

Last night/this morning while sitting here and finishing my visitation to everyone, I could hear the train whistle blowing and the rhythm of it going down the tracks and I was instantly transported back in time.

I was eight years old and sleeping in my grandmothers house, "the camp" is what we call it. The train was about three car lengths away, up a little embankment just on the other side of the dirt road that ran right in front of the little house on the lake. At times the noise was so loud you couldn't hear each other talk, but I guess with everything you eventually get used to it. How I slept through it, I will never know.

I used to love to go up the embankment and walk the tracks. They would take me to the lily pond and I would sit on the tracks that bridged the water. It was such a beautiful place with all the lily pads and flowers floating on the surface and sometimes I would get to see the beavers at work. I'm guessing I knew the train schedule cause I never had to run for my life.

I had a toy milk jug that had a lid attached to the neck of it, part of my toys that grammie always kept at the camp. I would put pennies on the tracks and wait for them to get flattened, the I would force them into my toy milk jug. Who knew I was saving money so young. LOL!

Somewhere along those tracks grampie took me to go see the raccoons. He had such a way with the wildlife, they all felt very comfortable around him. We drove to what was the dump (in today's terms it would be called a compost pile). I never saw stuff like you would see in a dump now. Folks back then weren't super wasteful like now. The raccoons were all over this pile and they all looked up as soon as we drove up, the lights of the car glowing in their eyes. A few ran for cover, but there were also the ones that would scratch your eyes out if you should dare to think to take their pile from them. They will defend what they believe to be theirs! I was scared, but grampie got out and calmly started talking to them and was coaxing me out of the car at the same time. I stood behind him and peeked out at the wild creatures. They had calmed down and were going about there business. The young ones that had fled were now starting to come back out for their nightly feast. We had become nothing more than a shadow in the dark that was to be ignored. We stood there and watched in silence for what seemed to be forever and then the train came. I remember that it scared me, I was so into watching the raccoons that I hadn't even heard it coming.

Just sitting here reminiscing of my youth at the camp with my grandparents.

Spin Cycle: Religion

Soooo..the Spin Cycle's assignment this week is religion. Yeah I know...really? Do you really want to go there? Wellllll..no actually, but I thought I might try my hand at it. PLEASE for the love of...don't leave me or think me a nut case (even if it might be true).

My faith. sigh.
Well lets try to start at the beginning. My earliest memory of church was in my own front yard. When I was little, I lived with a babysitter through the week and spent the weekends with my dad. The baby sitter's house was directly behind a small baptist church. We didn't go but her youngest daughter and I would sit on the porch and listen to the singing. That was our favorite part. When I spent the weekends with dad we would go to church on Sunday morning. I was all dressed up in my best dress, pearls and gloves. The hardest part was that I had to sit there with my knees and feet together, my hands lain in my lap and eyes forward. It was torture! BUT I always loved the singing part.

When dad remarried and I was yanked from the babysitter, suddenly we were going to church alot more often during the week. We was going every time the doors were open. I immersed myself in the choir and for a while that was good. I got baptized at the tender age of 7. As if I really knew what I was doing.

I watched my grandmothers go to church every Sunday. I believe they were both Methodist, but that doesn't really matter. Labels aren't necessary, they both believed in Christ and had faith. With all the adults in my life going to church, I knew it had to be something I MUST do.

We moved and changed churches, no make that denominations. It was the scariest thing I had ever seen, experienced and heard. These people were having seizures all in the name of the lord! I wanted NO part of that! So, instead I found another muse to keep me busy during church services. Friends or more accurately..boys. I really did try to not pay attention to the goings on. People throwing their arms all over the place, dancing in the isles and falling to the floor. I saw people being injured by the folks so enraptured in the throws of rejoice. I always wrapped my feet around the legs of the chair, just to keep them from getting stepped on. I would come home from church frustrated and at times angry. The somewhat fun time I had in Sunday school with my friends was long forgotten by time I got home. I remember even begging to just go to Sunday school and skipping the service. That never happened.

I was baptized once more, but didn't find it to be a glorious moment. So I soon forgot about it.

THEN we moved to Texas so my parents could attend the Christian collage. Our lives were all about the collage and learning the bible and of course church. I was now a pre-teen and starting to learn more than maybe I should, so some would say. I started analyzing the history of the bible and other faiths. Dad was going to be a missionary, so it was important to learn about other cultures. I don't think that my parents had any clue what was going through my brain and how it was affecting me.

Of course living in Texas and of course growing up, I was exposed to all types of religions and was learning the differences and the commonalities. It was all very confusing, so I was what some would consider a problem child.

There was another side to the church process that had me in near tears all the time. We were a poor family and as a teenager I struggled with this. The church that we were currently going to (our third so far in Texas), were mostly configured of middle class folks. The laughing joke of the church is what we became, the charity case. The other teenagers were cruel and never let me forget that we was poor. They would show up in the most beautiful dresses I had ever seen. Well after some time of being exposed to their cruelty, I begun to lose faith in the church going process.
I was baptized yet again and again it had no profound affect on me like I saw it do in others. That was the final straw! I knew it wasn't that I was bad, crazy or hopeless. It was the folks around me that made me feel that way.

I have been to church maybe a dozen times since I left home at 17. Not because I have anything against going to church, I have just known for along time that it is something that wasn't for me. The fashion contest, the damnation of other religions and the hypocrisy is too rampant and I don't want or feel the need to subject myself to that stuff. I'm a live and let live kinda girl. I would never try to tell someone what they must believe or do and I hope to get the same respect for my decisions. I don't take my decision lightly, I have spent nearly half my life in church and learning the bible or I should say forced to learn the bible. I know most religious folks wouldn't agree with my decision, they would say "If you don't get right with god then you are going to go to hell". Well, my response is always the same...We are good! We know where we stand with each other and we are good.

I have always disliked the separate denominations or even the label of Christianity. To me putting a label on oneself like that is like allowing folks to peek into your bedroom. It's my heart, soul, spirit or what have you. As long as I am at peace with myself and try to live a good life with no harm to others, then we are good! IF I was to put a label on myself..then it would have to be...ha! Thought I was going to tell, didn't ya!!
I had best stop here, before I alienate all my friends and have them running for the hills just to get away from the heathen. Go ahead and laugh mom, I know you want to!

This post is in NO way a mean spirited post. Just the ramblings of a woman who dug too deep for answers and didn't like what she found.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Luke 6:31
Yes, I dug my bible out for that one!


For more great spins, go visit Sprite's Keeper.

My first Cat

I was seven years old. My father had been injured and his fiance (know as SHE or HER) was helping to care for him. I was on summer break and spent most of my time next door playing with the neighbors children. Their cat had had kittens weeks ago and they were ready to go to different homes. Us kids were the only ones there playing with the kittens, their mother was in the back of the house. I was told by the older girl that if I just took it home, there was no way my dad could say no. I snuck one of them under my sweater and rushed out the front door. Their mother didn't know.

I took him home to beg and plead for us to keep him.

Things had been changing at home and I was no longer sure about the things I was sure about before. SHE was fixing to be my new mother and it was looming in the air like a storm waiting to happen and even dad wasn't the same reliable person I had known him to be. I just couldn't tell what the answer was going to be. Before SHE came, I knew my dad would say yes but now...I didn't know. He always had to talk things over with HER first and SHE was a complete mystery too me.

I crept up the stairs with this little orange fur ball tucked under my sweater. I could hear them in dad's room and I ever so gently knocked on the door. Dad gave me the okay to come in. SHE was standing there by the window, dad was sitting on the edge of the bed eating a sandwich for lunch.

I stood there like a Cheshire cat, grinning that mischievous grin. I didn't get to say anything, the cat did it for me. A big meow came from my body, dad's eyes got big and a frown crossed his forehead. My big grin melted away and disappeared, I was suddenly a nervous "you've been caught" deer in the headlights, pale faced, scared like "you've done something bad" little kid. Dad asked in a booming voice "What have you got?" I was looking at the floor cause I could feel the tears were fixing to come, I gently pulled the little kitten out from my under my sweater and handed it to my dad. Dad held him for less than a minute and while holding him, he let his other hand holding his sandwich drift too close. The little kitten took a bite out of his peanut butter sandwich! Dad softened and laughed. SHE told me to go down stairs and wait for the decision.

It felt like an eternity! I was already having problems with HER and my little head was filling up with all of the ways SHE wasn't going to let me have it. She was making my dad a mean person and I just knew it! Dad was a fun dad, but lately when he and I were having fun, it would suddenly stop when SHE came in the room. Soo, I just knew SHE was going to say no.

I don't know what was said between them or how long it actually took, but I was finally called up to dads room for the big decision.

They said YES! I couldn't believe it! BUT I had to get my friends mom's permission first.

I left my new kitten there and rushed over to my friends to tell the news and for their mother to give permission. I was scared to go up to her, even though all three of her kids were right there behind me. I had to interrupt her working in the garden, yes I was scared. (Back in those days or I should say my world, children didn't interrupt the adults without large amounts of caution. You waited for them to acknowledge your presence, only then did you talk.) She did bellow for a moment, till she saw it was me who had come to talk to her.

Of course she said yes!

Jeremiah was his name and we had that cat for five years till we moved to Texas. He was supposed to have come down later after we got established in a place, but he ran away from the folks looking after him.

He was a great comfort to me in my times of adjusting to life with a new mother. If it hadn't been for him, I would have really been a basket case!! LOL!

Sisters Reunited!!!!!!!!

(Just months after we meet)

I just can't believe I am writing this post...bear with me. It has been one super exciting day and most definitely one I will never forget for as long as I live.

Soo, you remember the post I did three days ago about my best friend "Two Peas in a Pod", if you don't remember please take the time to read it.

I was sitting here with the laundry going, sleepy, trying to coffee myself up and watching some stupid dinosaur movie. I was thinking the day was going to be just another ordinary day, do my chores, waste some time, wait for the old man to get home, cook supper and then go for my walk.

Mother called for a quick chat before she took a nap. I hung up with her and quickly dialed my SIL to see how she is feeling (baby due any day), my brother startled me by saying "stop dialing in my ear"! While talking to him, my ex MIL (mom) called quickly to tell me......

She found bff!

At first I was like...What did you say? I thought maybe it was one of those times where you hear what you want to hear. She repeated and I started shaking instantly. I wasn't sure (at the moment) what I was feeling. We have gone through this before, knowing what general area she might be living in. I was a little scared that was going to be the info I received. I was trying to hold my emotions in check, just in case. She relays the story of what happened.

They (her and her son T) were in Wal-Mart and T was looking at this girl, he turns to mom and asks..Is that A's daughter? They go up to her and ask her name, at first they thought they had the wrong girl cause she responded with her middle name. Well as you know it was the right girl and they were able to get info about where they are and how to get in touch.

Mom asks me..."Do you want her phone number?"

I was a total mess from then on, my world had just tilted. I know mom was talking, but seriously if you ask me what about..I could never tell ya! I not only got a phone number, I got an actual address too! The world was spinning wildly out of control.

I hung up with mom and then hung up with brother, who had been on hold.

This was all in the spam of maybe 15 minutes! Life as I have grown to know, suddenly went loopy and I was thrown into a blast from the past. My mind was reeling, the emotions overwhelming and my body...well lets just say, it was mesh of melting, bouncing, shaking and lord have mercy sweating! I paced the floor with the phone in my hands, trying to get a grip and find my composure. Ha, never found it!

(About a year before we lost touch)

I dialed...Mom (her mom) answered the phone. (I just realized I have a lot of mom's) What little resolve I had gained in a few minutes, melted away to tears. It was mom...mom...
the mix of relief, surprise, excitement and love, was just too much for me to behave any other way than a cry baby who has missed a piece of her family for soo long. I could tell it was emotional for her too and was quickly given to A.

*Excuse me while I cry a little*

It was the moment I had waited for, for a very long time. The ease, love, friendship and sisterhood was all still there. We did all the catching up we could do, in between the OMG's I can't believe this is happening's!

Hubby came home and I was panicked to think I was going to have to get off the phone. Hubby tends to come home hungry, so you know...supper is usually my next step. It was one of those moments that you don't want to end. I have her on the phone, if I hang up...will I ever be able to contact her again or will this be my one shot? I just don't know how to express the emotions I was feeling at the thought of breaking the connection. But, at least I can say "I TALKED TO HER" and all is right with the world! I don't ever plan to let that girl out of reach again, if I can help it! I am still floating on an emotional high!

To answer Angelia's question... Makes me wonder after all these years passing, if you got in touch, would the friendship rekindle? The answer is YES YES YES!!!!

Isn't it funny that it took my mom to get us together the first time and then my other mom to reunite us. Thank Goodness for MOMS!

I find it to be so ironic for me to have written that post only three days ago and now this! Fate? Maybe!

Writer's Workshop: Two Peas in a Pod

For this week I chose #2) I miss the friend you used to be.

When I come back from running away, I soon realized that all my friends had moved on and didn't really want anything to do with me. About six months later.. My mother said she had someone she wanted me to meet, a girl she thought I might like to be friends with. On the walk over to this girls house, mom reveals that this girl is 15.

Now first you have to imagine my state of mind. Mom is trying to set up my friendships! What the heck? Am I that desperate and pathetic? AND seriously a 15yr old, she's two years younger than me! What could I possibly have in common with a child? BUT because I had just returned to the family and trying my hardest to not create more waves than there already were, I went along with it.

From the moment we meet and ate Ramen noodles together we were like...
Two peas in a pod, joined at the hip, sisters separated from birth, instant best friends.

We went through all sorts of things together...
Poverty for starters, parties, dating and living together.
Exchanging boyfriends, engagements and eventually my marriage.
Break-ups and reconciliations.
Her babies, my infertility issues and emotions.
Her marriage and dealing with infidelity.
Divorce's.
You name it and we probably did it or went through it, in the seven years we were together. Seven years..doesn't really seem like it was a long time, but it was right at the highlight of our lives. Just when we were getting our chance for life to start, free to make our own decisions. BOY, did we make some whopper decisions!

Every time my marriage broke up (which was five times), Naturally I moved in with her and her mother. We were so close, people thought there was something hinky going on. Which we thought was funny!

Then the day came when I ran off with a stranger (current hubby), things were never the same from then on. I would visit her, she would visit me, but it was getting difficult to hold on to the friendship. I had found my root and she was still a branch in the wind. I was set it one place and she and her mother and growing amount of children were moving constantly. When I left our hometown she had two children, the last time I saw her she was about to have her fourth any day.

Shortly after that last visit she moved again and I haven't heard from her since. That was nearly 17 years ago.

There are many a times, I sit back and think on those days and I guess you could say morn the loss of who we were and the wonderful friendship we shared.
I miss the friend she used to be.
Two peas in a pod.


For more Writer's Workshop visit Mama Kat's

Writer's Workshop: Socks

Soo I have noticed a few of the folks I follow doing this thing called Writer's Workshop. It wasn't till recently I noticed this meme gives you several topics to choose from, so I thought I would check it out and see how it goes.

This week's assignments are:

1.) Choose a headline from The Today Show website and write up an opinion post based on the story you chose. I have reviewed the headlines for the last two days and either they get me agitated(or down right mad) or I really don't have an opinion worth writing about.

2.) Write a poem about the last thing that made you mad. Poems are Suzicate's forte. I do good to read them!

3.) Write about a joke that did not go over well. All my jokes end badly cause I forget parts or nearly all of them.

4.) Write a funny story involving socks. I do believe I can do this one, just don't know how funny it will be.

5.) It happened on Facebook...write about a funny or awkward conversation you saw unfold on Facebook. I am sooooooooo NOT going there!!


Socks..

Oh sure I could write about the sock that always seems to lose its mate, but we all know how that ends...The sock monster that lives in the dryer took it!


Okay so on to my little story...
As most of you know (especially the poor or just plain old), the entertainment of children was once something that had to come from your imagination. In our house the Sock puppet was all the rage! Now I'm not talking about a store bought fancy one or even the some-what fancy ones that you decorate.
Like this one:

Even this one is better than what we had:


No, we had just a sock, a magic marker, a piece of furniture to hide behind and lots of imagination. The sock of course had to be one of dad's socks, they were the only ones that would cover your whole arm. We would draw faces, you know...just eyes, nose and mouth. We never could get very imaginative with the socks cause dad had to have them back for wearing. He only had a few pairs and we couldn't afford for him to spare any just for play.

Soo, as you can imagine...Dad walked around with sock puppets on his feet!

Sunday morning standing outside the church yapping with another family, dad had a pebble in his shoe and proceeded to take off his shoe. The other man just happened to look down and saw the puppet. Dad slipped his shoe back on, in embarrassment.
It was too late, all of us had seen it. Thankfully dad was reprieved from his embarrassment, by the thunderous laugh of this other man. They both got a real good chuckle out of it. Me, I was giggling!

Dad bought new socks the next month and gave us the old puppets!

Now go see Mama Kat and check out the other Writer's Workshop posts for this week.

Today is my Birthday

Sooo...today is my birthday.

I have managed to survive another year.

I can recall the days when I never thought I was never going to make it to ten. I was overwhelmed with adult responsibilities and each day was a challenge, but I did finally make it to ten.
...

Then there was the "I'll never make it to being a teenager". As if becoming a teenager was going to make all my problems go away and I would suddenly be all grown up. NOT! None of that happened and for some cosmic irony all got worse!
...

I just knew I would never make it to fifteen! I thought for sure one of these days my father was going to really kill me. I pushed the old man's buttons ever chance I could get. It's a miracle I survived and he did too!
...
Why sixteen was my next goal I don't know but it was a day to celebrate while my Aunt was away.
...

Seventeen! I made it at last! The day I had been waiting for..FREEDOM! No rules, no parents, just me and my friend parting the nights away. Some where in all that I thought I had arrived to adulthood with all the knowledge there was for me to know. I thought it so deeply, I got married. What did I know, I was just a kid!
...

Twenty-one..I had done so much, see too much, been hurt too much and experienced so much. AND yet I was alone, confused and looking to to drown in the bottle and escape from the world. The possibility of seeing another year was not in the plan.
...

Twenty-two..Yup I made it through, surprisingly enough. I was swept away by a stranger to another city, never to go back again!
...

Twenty-eight..Bored and itching for more to life, than what I had always been doing since I was a kid... I left my happiness behind and drove into hell and met the devil himself. I was begging to die and again seeing anymore birthdays was not in the plan.
...

Thirty-three..Suddenly I woke up from my nightmare and went back to happiness.
I felt like I had been reborn on that day. My perspective of things were finally clear and my love for life had been gifted to me. I was no longer searching or drowning, I had finally found peace within myself. It was a long journey to get through, but hey I made it and I am a better person for it.
...

Forty-one (where the heck did that number come from), yup I said it for all to marvel at. I am no longer hiding in the past, the future is all I want to see.

Soo..today is my birthday, with a bright future ahead of me.

Spin Cycle: Mother's Day

Mother’s Day

She was eight years old. Her and her family was living on the third story of the house on the corner. It was Mother’s Day and they were all getting ready for church. She had gotten her baby sister ready and was waiting for her parents. The apartment had a long stairway that lead down to their front door, opening to the second story. She sat on the top step and was worrying that her new mother would think that she didn’t like her, because she had no Mother’s Day gift for her.

She snuck out the door and down to ground level. She was just going to wait outside. While walking around on the grass that framed the corner, she spied some pretty flowers up close to the other house on that corner. She knew those would make a great Mother’s Day gift. Who doesn’t like flowers?

She walked over and gathered a fistful, stood there admiring them. She turned and started walking back, all the while thinking of how happy her new mother was going to be. She was very pleased with herself for a whole minute.

She soon realized someone was coming after her! Fear crept in and she started to run and cry at the same time, all the while still clutching the flowers. She rushed to the front door of their apartment and the man had caught up to her before she could get the door opened, she screamed with all her might!

The man had her and she couldn’t get away! She had never been so scared in her whole life. She couldn’t understand why he was after her. What did he want?

While holding her by her dress he was going to knock on our door, but her daddy had heard her scream and flung it open. The man’s hand was still in the air and inches from her daddy’s face. Her new mother was just steps behind her daddy and rushed down and grabbed her arm and pulled her in to the apartment. She heard the stitches in her dress break from being yanked from the man’s grip.

She was still in a state of shock and crying hysterically, wrapped around her new mother’s waist and safely hiding behind her daddy. She heard the man tell her daddy about her stealing flowers from his wife’s flower bed. Suddenly her fear of the man turned into fear of her daddy. She tried to explain the desire to have something for her new mother for Mother’s Day; it was difficult for them to understand because she was crying so hard.

Her new mother sat down on the steps and asked to see the flowers. She held them up and gave them to her. Her tears were starting to calm a little. Her new mother took them and looked up at her and smiled. That was all she was after, was that smile and she couldn’t help herself from falling into her arms and letting the tears gently roll.

Her daddy and the man were watching them and they softened from grizzly bears to teddy bears. The man then requested that she was to go to his house and apologize to his wife. Her eyes pleaded with her parents to not make her go, she was still scared of the man. Thankfully her new mother took her by the hand and walked over there with her.

She knew she would be in more trouble if she protested, so she walked clutching to the only person she knew to protect her. Her mind was all over the place trying to think what was going to happen to her. Was she going to get beat for stealing or worse get locked away for it?

They were escorted into the living room of the house and the lady was sitting there glaring at her. She tried to hide behind her new mother’s body, but her new mother pushed her out in front of her, like saying “Here is the guilty, do what you will with her”. She was stung by this gesture and looked up at her new mother pleading silently.

She stepped forward and said she was sorry, in a whisper. Her new mother made her say it again, but louder. The lady asked why and all she could do was shrug her shoulders and turn her face away, the tears were coming again. Hot ones, they were burning her face. Her new mother sent her towards the door and told her to go home and wait for her.

After getting a real good lecture on stealing, she was sent to bed exhausted.

Her new mother and that lady became best friends for many many years. That was the best Mother’s Day gift she ever accidentally gave her.

A Box of Memories from Dad

My father gave me a box of stuff that he thought I might want.

Some books, some trinkets of things we had done together, the cards I gave him for his birthday or father’s day, playing cards that I had sent him from various states…You get the idea right!

Well in this box I found some items that blew me away, that he had saved.

Here is a lovely card that my grammie (birth mother's side) sent me in 1984.



She wrote:

Dear Ones - I wanted you to know I was thinking of you this morning as I went about my chores, so I decided to drop a line, and send along the envelope (She sent a self address envelope with a stamp) hoping I might hear how things are going. Also I have heard from ____, she wrote back that she had tried to call you, but no phone. So I guess all I can do is send along her address for correspondence. (A little piece of paper with the address, right here in Texas)

We are all okay - I keep busy with my volunteer work to help feed and clothe needy children. Nana (Her mother) is getting stronger each day since her fall and the hip should be mended so she can go back home (to Maine) the last of April. Grampie is finishing the inside of our new house, just across the highway by the lake here (Florida). None of the eight rents (rental houses) have sold yet, so he is busy as ever. Well, I'll go sew a few more quilt squares = do hope I might hear good news from you.
Our Love, Grammie.

I never received this letter. I'm guessing my parents didn't want me to want to see my birth mother or to know that see was so close to us. I know they were just trying to protect me from her evil ways.


This next one is a postcard, also from grammie in 1976.



She wrote:

Hi (to my daddy),

Was so pleased to hear from you, and happy about your coming marriage, very happy. Saw (new mom's) picture in the paper - she is nice looking. Your folks called on us - left note as we was away darn it. We'd love to have Heather visit us, okay? You and your new wife too if you can, any time.

Hope to see you friday eve, around 6 o'clock - if Heather can come for a week or so. If not please drop us a card.

Our Love, Grammie.

I just thought that was soo cool of her to be so accepting of my dad getting a new wife, especially considering they were my birth mother's parents.

This was a gift I bought for my dad in 1978.



I was lucky enough to have gotten to go to a camp for the summer. I still don't know how my parents managed to come up with the money, but I was thrilled to go.

I remember it was the first time I got to ride an elephant. I have been fascinated with them ever since.

Some how I managed to have some pocket money. Right before it was time to leave, I went to the gift shop and bought this captains wheel (as you can see the spokes have all broken off). I knew daddy would love it! I guess he really did, cause he kept it all these years!


It was so nice that dad gave these things to me. Although it does reveal his hoarding side! LOL! Sometimes a little hoarding can be a good thing or I wouldn't have these little gems.