B-day Gift Suggestion

Is anyone in your life getting ready to celebrate a birthday that ends in a round number? Those are usually significant, but what do you get them to commemorate it?

One idea for a special man in your life (BF, hubby, dad, whatever) is to give him two coins--one from the year he was born and one from the current year. It can be as expensive or inexpensive as you want (or need) it to be. It could be pennies or it could be silver dollars in special presentation cases. Either way, I think it's something he'll keep and cherish. It's probably a better gift for someone 30+.

As for a special woman, you could get her an iron, a vaccum, almost anything for that extra special birthday. She'll just be thankful you remembered.

Hey, what's that strange sound behind me? I better go check it o {crash}

Edit: Okay, I'm back (and conscious again). Keep track of the important dates of all the special people in your lives. Write them down. Don't let them slip past unnoticed. And whatever you do, don't give a woman household appliances (or anything related to cleaning or laundry) for a special birthday!!!!

Edit II: I'm serious about the coin idea, but the iron and vacuum and the idea of getting a woman just anything was 100% a joke. I'm not crazy enough to actually do something like that. ;P

Learned the power of tears @ 11

A wonderful blogger, RML, recently posted something written by her 11 year-old self. I didn’t write when I was 11, if I could avoid it, but she got me thinking about 11 yr-old me. That's when I learned I had no defense against tears. I turned 11 during 5th grade. I showed up for the first day of school hoping to be assigned to Mrs. Bloom. I was--I didn’t know it yet, but she was a really great teacher.

There was something else I didn’t know. She was 5 months pregnant! But I learned a lot before she left on maternity leave, including how to sew an apron for my mom (as an Xmas present). She made it to the holidays and then we were assigned a new teacher. A brand new teacher, she had graduated early, at the end of the fall semester. She was only 21.

On the new teacher’s first day she introduced herself, talked about her parents, and how excited she was to move to DC (from Tennessee). Then she started to take attendance. Well, she tried. The kids thought it would be funny to refuse to answer. Before she got to my name, the teacher broke. She went to her desk, put her head down, and started crying.

It was horrible, unbearable! I couldn’t take it. Someone had to do some- thing, but everyone was looking down at their feet. Then I remembered one of my dad’s lectures. When something needs to be done, you can’t wait around hoping someone else will take care of it. You need to step up and do it yourself.

So I did. I went to her desk, patted her on the shoulder and told her it would be okay. The kids would cooperate now. She looked up and asked how I knew. I smiled and said, “Because I know their names!” That made her laugh and everything was okay after that. She and I had an odd relationship. A few months later she asked me if I thought it would be okay if she asked the (handsome, single) 6th grade teacher for a ride while her car was in the shop. I said, “Of course!!!” =)

I try to keep it a secret, but tears still work on me. Darnit!!!

Lost Treasures - I

I used to have a set of magical encyclopedias.

I've read that we know more than we realize and our first thought in response to a question is usually right--but then we over think and get things wrong. I decided to test that. Whenever my kids had questions on school work or just whenever a question came up, I would say the first thing I thought of--even if it sounded crazy. Then I'd check our small encyclopedia set to find out if I was right. I almost always was (if only I could do elementary school over again!!!). It got to be funny. I started making wild guesses and the books said I was right. I tried just making up a few answers (to be goofy) and according to the books it was right (usually). I started teasing my wife that all I had to do was say something and my faithful "magic encyclopedias" would change reality to make it true for me. I had so much fun with those books!

Then one day when I went to look for them, they were gone. I asked my wife about it and she told me she donated them to the kids' school. She thought we didn't need them anymore since we had high-speed internet (we were slow to sign up for that). There may may been another reason. The books may not have been quite as much fun for my wife as they were for me. ;P Anyway, I couldn't believe they were gone.

The worst part is I haven't been right about anything since!!! =)

Edit: My wife claims I only remember the times I was right, not the times I was wrong. What are the odds of that being true? Haha! But I do remember having fun joking about the books being magic for me. Doesn't everyone enjoy hearing, "Oh, you're right!!!" LOL

Cover up, please!

I don't care what people wear. Old guys in speedos? Good for them. But I saw something last week that I wish I hadn't.

When you fly (and sit on the aisle) , there is one person on the plane you can see better than anyone else--the person across the aisle, one row ahead of you. On a flight home last week, that seat was taken by a young blond wearing flip flops, black tights (but without feet--leggings?), and a completely see-thru white t-shirt. Again, I don't usually notice what people wear, but the girl startled me, twice. First by nearly falling into my lap when she was stowing her bag in the overhead compartment. I caught her, sort of. Through her almost-invisible shirt, I couldn't help but see the tag on her tights ("S") and that her beige panties were sticking out more than a little. I wouldn't fly dressed that way (even if I was a girl), but like the guys in speedos, good for her (I guess?). Whatever, don't care!

But, I wish she had covered up her feet. She startled me a 2nd time when she sat down and crossed her ankle over her knee so she could rub her foot. The poor girl had Zombie Feet! I swear they were gray. I almost couldn't look away from them. Throughout the flight I kept looking back because I couldn't believe my eyes. Gray feet? Circulation problem? Some kind of unfortunate fungus? Maybe she has to wear flip-flops. I'd never seen anything like that before. I felt a little guilty because I kept thinking about the "zombie" exchanges Stiletto Girl, Toothfairy and Manju used to have. That made me smile...and I shouldn't have been smiling while looking at a sick girl's gray feet. I feel bad for her, but I wish I didn't know it was possible to have gray feet attached to tan ankles.

How is that possible???


PS - I only drank water that day, so I was seeing clearly! =)

Summer Jobs

A recent post on Reading Between the Lines got me thinking about summer jobs past. I actually didn’t have many “summer” jobs because once I turned 16 I worked year-round. Most of the jobs I had were awful, but good experiences. If nothing else, they inspired me to work harder in school. One summer I had two jobs that were memorable.

I got a job in an auto warehouse. I was assigned to the receiving team, which put away new parts. The team leader worked with me to make sure I learned the layout. He was a tall, long-legged fellow, a former basketball player—a wrestler’s natural enemy. I quickly realized, from laughter and comments made by the other men, that this guy was used to walking the legs off new recruits. But in this case I was doing that to him (no WAY I was going to be outworked by a basketball player). I said no every time he offered a break and pushed him to keep up his pace. The rest of the guys thought that was hysterical. The work was okay, but boring, just walking back and forth and back and forth. Until the racial tensions surfaced. My team leader (white) and the picker’s team leader (black) didn’t like each other. They jawed at each other during lunch every day. Other guys got caught up in it. One afternoon they pulled knives from their pockets. Fortunately the work bell rang before anyone got hurt. The jawing continued the next day. I thought it over and decided to turn in my hard hat—it just wasn’t for me.

After that, I planned to take the summer off, relaxing and spending time with my friends and my girl. After sleeping late on my first day of freedom, I pulled a lounge chair into the sun to get a little color. Just as I was settling in, the phone rang. It was one of my brothers. His company had just gotten a new contract to maintain a/c units at a huge government housing project—several in fact. He had enough mechanics, but needed helpers to assist the mechanics and allow them to make better use of their time. He sounded desperate, so I accepted and started work the next day. I spent the entire summer going in and out of hot apartments, carrying heavy cans of Freon, compressors and everything else up and down ladders and stairs. What a rotten job. I couldn’t wait for school to start up again. We had two bits of excitement. The daily excitement came in the form of mobs chasing our work van trying to get us to fix their units first—the place was in bad shape. The special excitement came when a mechanic didn’t properly vent Freon from a unit before lighting his torch to disconnect the compressor. He burned the Freon, which produced Phosgene gas (which was used as a weapon during World War I). We both had to crawl out onto the apartment balcony to keep from being killed!!!

Good times.

PS – I had my first encounter with “engrish” that summer. My favorite mechanic was Mr. Kim. He was always happy, always laughing. The engrish? The man called me “Licky”. The weird part of that was no one called me “Ricky” except my grandma. I don’t know why he tried to call me that.

PSS – Since starting my first job the summer I turned 16, I’ve only been unemployed for 7 months—during my first year of college. Depending on how you look at it (and I look at it both ways), I’ve been very lucky to be able to make money when I needed it (which has been always). But at the same time, I really need a vacation! ;P

A piece of me...July 2010

It's time again for the monthly game started by Toothfairy (yay, she's back!). The game is to share info about yourself on the 1st Sunday of every month. I'm a little late, but this month....

I like: Summer is in full-swing. Picnics, cookouts (strawberry cake), carnivals (funnel cake), and Father's Day (ice cream cake--sorry Kym). Eek, that was a LOT of cake! Better stick to fresh fruit and veggies the rest of the summer.

I don't like: Triple digit (F) temperatures. Ugh, but still better than 4 feet of snow. As Megan once said to me, "You don't have to shovel sunshine."

I want you to know: I got married @ 21. It's not for everyone, but it's worked out well for me. Life isn't one-size fits all. If family or friends say you're too young to do something (or you're "not getting any younger") listen to them, but make up your own mind. We each have to walk our own path in our own time.

I've planned: well, there's the singing thing.

I want to say to someone special: New experiences make life fun. I hope you find the right balance between enthusiasm and caution.

July 4th cookouts

It's Independence Day and cookouts are a tradition.

Until I was about 12 we never had cookouts. We had picnics near the stream on my dad's family's farm--and we'd play in the stream. But no cookouts. Then one summer my dad bought a round, red, charcoal grill and a new family tradition was born.

We used the grill 7 or 8 times a summer, including 2 or 3 full-blown family cookouts. They were a lot of work, but always fun. There were several "feats of strength" I hurried to do myself before someone else got the idea to do them--like getting the picnic table out of the basement by myself or getting the "purple" table from the backporch to the carport (it weighed a ton). Being a dumb 12 year-old, it never occurred to me that my brothers had no interest in helping. By the time I wised-up, it was too late--those were part of my cookout-related chores.

At one cookout an uncle bellowed for me to get him a drink from the cooler. Before I gave it to him I shook it up r-e-a-l good. He chased me for 10 minuntes, but he was laughing. At another I finally met the aunt who took care of me during my first 6 months on the planet. She was waaay overprotective of her daughter. My dad kept the aunt busy while I took my cousin swimming to have some fun. There was badminton, swings, horseshoes, tennis, baseball and motorcycle rides. One of my sisters and a cousin almost drove the motorcycle into our very thorny rose hedge. They were saved when the clothesline knocked them both off the bike just before they hit the hedge. It was hysterical (they weren't hurt).

Then there was the clean-up. Everyone pitched in and it went quickly, but there was one special job reserved for me the following day. My dad used little pieces of cork to insulate the grill from the heat of the charcoal--after 10 years that grill almost looked brand new. The Monday after a cookout, I would take the grill into our veggie garden and use a big square of screen to sift the charcoal dust out of the cork. Like the tinsel I removed annually from our Xmas tree, the cork went back into its bag to be used again next time. The cork cost 50 cents, so I think my dad must haved believed if he watched his pennies, the dollars would take care of themselves. He was probably right.

Summer cookouts, good times. Whether you cookout or not, I hope your summer is filled with good times with good people. It's summertime and the living is supposed to be easy.

Any summer memories you'd like to share????

Ps - If you're in the southern hemisphere, remember this in six-months! =)