I'm going to skip another annual classic--the story about the first Thanksgiving dinner I ever cooked (for my future in-laws)--the message was don't stress about the food, it's the company that counts (even in Texas). Instead, this year I'm remembering a different Thanksgiving. A year that I was particularly thankful--I think I was 8.
My mom wasn't feeling well that November and that usually meant I would get shipped off to my grandmother's house. And I was. "Shipped" is just an expression--she only lived 80 yards away. The 2 bedroom apartment behind her little grocery store was tiny, but cozy. I didn't mind being there, but I didn't like being sent away, if that makes sense. I wanted to be with my family for Thanksgiving.
This is where the surprise comes in. My parents and siblings had Thanksgiving dinner with me at my grandmother's. I know that sounds like a normal thing--but, again, grandma's apartment was tiny (teeny, tiny). We never had family gatherings there. Never, except for that once.
Because it was so small, the three adults ate at the kitchen table and the kids scattered in the store. Two of my sisters sat at the counter on stools to eat their dinner. I hopped up on the ancient Coke box (I have a picture of a similar cooler, but it won't upload). My two brothers shared the large, flat freezer.
It was odd, but memorable. We were all together and I was thankful for that.
What am I thankful for today? Like every day, I am thankful for my immediate family and good friends--especially the very special people I've met through blogging. I appreciate the chance to know you and share a small part of your lives--and the chance to way over-share about my life. :)
Thank you!
PS - Let the Christmas music begin!!!
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Friday, November 21, 2014
"You shouldn't do something... II
...just because someone tells you to!"
In my last post I explained the memorable way in which my dad taught me this lesson. A few times my dad regretted teaching me so well. I almost always did what needed to be done. I went on SWAT maneuvers with him, stood on tree branches (far off the ground) while sawing off the tops of trees (with no rope, no protection), and listened when he explained the best way to get a German Shepherd to go for my throat--I never put that one into practice. :)
But there were a few things that were just too far outside my comfort zone-- DELETED
PS - This isn't a great post, just a few weird examples of the oddball stuff I did (and didn't do) as a kid. But it may be related to a question my daughter asked me this week. She heard me talking about a task that was going to be quite a physical challenge.
Her question was, "Why do you always just assume you're going to be able to do these things???" (my wife and I both laughed, but I'm not exactly sure why).
In answer to her question, maybe I'm an optimist. Maybe I'm delusional. Or maybe my dad's odd projects helped me learn what I can and can't do (along with what I will and won't). I probably should have pushed my kids harder when they were little so my daughter would know which one of the three possibilities is true. :D
Note: I deleted most of this post because it was too "blah, blah, blah". But the first paragraph isn't awful and I like the PS, so I left them in.
In my last post I explained the memorable way in which my dad taught me this lesson. A few times my dad regretted teaching me so well. I almost always did what needed to be done. I went on SWAT maneuvers with him, stood on tree branches (far off the ground) while sawing off the tops of trees (with no rope, no protection), and listened when he explained the best way to get a German Shepherd to go for my throat--I never put that one into practice. :)
But there were a few things that were just too far outside my comfort zone-- DELETED
PS - This isn't a great post, just a few weird examples of the oddball stuff I did (and didn't do) as a kid. But it may be related to a question my daughter asked me this week. She heard me talking about a task that was going to be quite a physical challenge.
Her question was, "Why do you always just assume you're going to be able to do these things???" (my wife and I both laughed, but I'm not exactly sure why).
In answer to her question, maybe I'm an optimist. Maybe I'm delusional. Or maybe my dad's odd projects helped me learn what I can and can't do (along with what I will and won't). I probably should have pushed my kids harder when they were little so my daughter would know which one of the three possibilities is true. :D
Note: I deleted most of this post because it was too "blah, blah, blah". But the first paragraph isn't awful and I like the PS, so I left them in.
Friday, November 14, 2014
"You shouldn't do something...
...just because someone tells you to!"
My dad taught me that lesson well. Here's how you do it...
When I was 10 I helped my dad work on a lawnmower. It was my grandfather's old riding lawnmower. Dad removed the spark plug and looked at it as I pulled the rope. I didn't know why he was doing that. How could the mower start if the spark plug wasn't in the little hole???
After I'd pulled the rope many times, dad wanted to switch places with me. He said "Hold this" and went to pull the rope. What happened next set me free, in a way. When my dad lightly pulled on the rope, my left side exploded in pain. I jumped (or was thrown) back from the mower. I felt like I'd been shot in the left elbow and shoulder. As I rolled in the grass, I heard my dad chuckling. Then he said, “Now I know the spark plug is getting power and you know not to grab a spark plug wire. That could kill you.” Through gritted teeth I said, “But you told me to!” Dad shook his head and said, “You shouldn’t do something just because someone tells you to.”
Those words made perfect sense! Why should I do something just because someone tells me to??? Of course I shouldn't! Learning that lesson helped me a LOT--especially during the teen years. It allowed me to laugh at peer pressure--which doesn't mean I didn't do dumb things. It just means I only did the dumb things I wanted to do. :D
In my next post I'm going to share a story about why my dad later regretted teaching me this lesson so well--BTW, it had nothing to do with how he taught the lesson. :)
PS - In case you think it was mean for my dad to have me hold that wire: 1) he knew not to pull the cord hard enough to do any damage; and 2) this is a classic, 3 Stooges kind of funny to guys. Not to me, but to any guy who wasn't holding the wire. I've shared the story with several friends over the years and each one busted out laughing. So it's okay if you smiled--and okay if you didn't.
PS II - DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!!! I wasn't hurt because my dad was an experienced mechanic. To quote him, "That could kill you."
My dad taught me that lesson well. Here's how you do it...
When I was 10 I helped my dad work on a lawnmower. It was my grandfather's old riding lawnmower. Dad removed the spark plug and looked at it as I pulled the rope. I didn't know why he was doing that. How could the mower start if the spark plug wasn't in the little hole???
After I'd pulled the rope many times, dad wanted to switch places with me. He said "Hold this" and went to pull the rope. What happened next set me free, in a way. When my dad lightly pulled on the rope, my left side exploded in pain. I jumped (or was thrown) back from the mower. I felt like I'd been shot in the left elbow and shoulder. As I rolled in the grass, I heard my dad chuckling. Then he said, “Now I know the spark plug is getting power and you know not to grab a spark plug wire. That could kill you.” Through gritted teeth I said, “But you told me to!” Dad shook his head and said, “You shouldn’t do something just because someone tells you to.”
Those words made perfect sense! Why should I do something just because someone tells me to??? Of course I shouldn't! Learning that lesson helped me a LOT--especially during the teen years. It allowed me to laugh at peer pressure--which doesn't mean I didn't do dumb things. It just means I only did the dumb things I wanted to do. :D
In my next post I'm going to share a story about why my dad later regretted teaching me this lesson so well--BTW, it had nothing to do with how he taught the lesson. :)
PS - In case you think it was mean for my dad to have me hold that wire: 1) he knew not to pull the cord hard enough to do any damage; and 2) this is a classic, 3 Stooges kind of funny to guys. Not to me, but to any guy who wasn't holding the wire. I've shared the story with several friends over the years and each one busted out laughing. So it's okay if you smiled--and okay if you didn't.
PS II - DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME!!! I wasn't hurt because my dad was an experienced mechanic. To quote him, "That could kill you."
Monday, November 3, 2014
More poetry
If you let me take your heart
I will prove to you
We will never be apart
If I'm part of you
Open up your eyes now
Tell me what you see
It is no surprise now
What you see is me
Big and black the clouds may be
Time will pass away
If you put your trust in me
I'll make bright your day
Look into these eyes now
Tell me what you see
Don't you realise now
What you see is me
What do you think? Is this one a winner?
I won't be offended it you don't like it. I'll be shocked, but not offended. Because I did not write this. John Lennon and Paul McCartney did. It's the first half of "Tell Me What You See" (a Beatles' song).
It goes really well with music. :)
Friday, October 31, 2014
Did you hear that???
I'm skipping the annual gun/girl Halloween story and instead re-sharing a different tale.
One October afternoon I went with my dad and brother to do chores on my dad's family's farm. We went after finishing chores at our house, so it was late afternoon. I think I was 10.
We took our beagles along to let them run in the woods (chase rabbits). When we were done, the dogs were NOT done. They ignored us when we called them. In a move that completely shocked me, my dad decided to leave them there. We went home, had dinner, and then headed back to the farm. It was well after dark. I'll skip the details of how we got the dogs. But it did amaze me that somehow my dad knew just where to wait to head them off (as they chased a rabbit). The two dogs were pretty surprised when we popped up.
Within minutes we had them in the very back of my mom's station wagon, which was parked right next to the farmhouse. The ancient (Civil War-era) two-story house on the farm was abandoned at that point. Local kids shot holes in the roof years before and the house was beyond saving. It stood there, completely dark and spooky looking.
Guess what? The station wagon wouldn't start. The battery suddenly was very dead.
My dad walked to a nearby uncle's house for help. We (my brother, me, the beagles) stayed in the car. I'm not sure if we waited there a long time or if time was just passing slowly. But it seemed as if my dad was gone a VERY long time.
As I sat there, I heard something familiar. It was the faint sound of sawing. Where could it be coming from? My brother asked if I heard it. We agreed the sound was coming from the house. The abandoned house!!! It got louder. We pretended it was nothing. But soon we could hear hammering along with the sawing. Something terrible was going on inside that house. I told my brother we needed to do something (not sure if I meant investigate or run). He did something. He jumped into the back of the station wagon with the beagles. They would save him!
Suddenly, all was quiet. But as we listened, the sawing started up again. This time my brother could tell where the sound was really coming from. It was the sound of the dogs wagging their tails. A slight wag made a "sawing" sound across the carpet and an excited wag made the dogs' tails thump against the side of the wagon--making a "hammering" sound.
I shared the story with my dad that night, which upset my brother. Since he was older and tried to hide behind the dogs, I suppose he was embarrassed. But not me!!! I'm happy to share an almost-ghost story to go along with my real ones.
Haappy Halloween!!!
One October afternoon I went with my dad and brother to do chores on my dad's family's farm. We went after finishing chores at our house, so it was late afternoon. I think I was 10.
We took our beagles along to let them run in the woods (chase rabbits). When we were done, the dogs were NOT done. They ignored us when we called them. In a move that completely shocked me, my dad decided to leave them there. We went home, had dinner, and then headed back to the farm. It was well after dark. I'll skip the details of how we got the dogs. But it did amaze me that somehow my dad knew just where to wait to head them off (as they chased a rabbit). The two dogs were pretty surprised when we popped up.
Within minutes we had them in the very back of my mom's station wagon, which was parked right next to the farmhouse. The ancient (Civil War-era) two-story house on the farm was abandoned at that point. Local kids shot holes in the roof years before and the house was beyond saving. It stood there, completely dark and spooky looking.
Guess what? The station wagon wouldn't start. The battery suddenly was very dead.
My dad walked to a nearby uncle's house for help. We (my brother, me, the beagles) stayed in the car. I'm not sure if we waited there a long time or if time was just passing slowly. But it seemed as if my dad was gone a VERY long time.
As I sat there, I heard something familiar. It was the faint sound of sawing. Where could it be coming from? My brother asked if I heard it. We agreed the sound was coming from the house. The abandoned house!!! It got louder. We pretended it was nothing. But soon we could hear hammering along with the sawing. Something terrible was going on inside that house. I told my brother we needed to do something (not sure if I meant investigate or run). He did something. He jumped into the back of the station wagon with the beagles. They would save him!
Suddenly, all was quiet. But as we listened, the sawing started up again. This time my brother could tell where the sound was really coming from. It was the sound of the dogs wagging their tails. A slight wag made a "sawing" sound across the carpet and an excited wag made the dogs' tails thump against the side of the wagon--making a "hammering" sound.
I shared the story with my dad that night, which upset my brother. Since he was older and tried to hide behind the dogs, I suppose he was embarrassed. But not me!!! I'm happy to share an almost-ghost story to go along with my real ones.
Haappy Halloween!!!
Monday, October 27, 2014
Eek the Cat was wrong...
Despite what Eek said ("It never hurts to help."), sometimes it DOES hurt to help.
I have a co-worker who annoys me a lot. I don't like her. Never have. It's the lady who showed me how smart she was by explaining (3 times) why she buys value meals instead of getting the items ala carte. It's because the value meals are less expensive than buying the items individually. Who would have guessed? That's actually not an example of why she annoys me. It's her attitude towards her work. She does the minimum, interrupts people (with dumb stories) who are trying to work and wants to be praised for it. The result is I have no patience for her.
Anyway, a few years ago her mom passed away. She and her mom lived together and shared expenses. So in addition to dealing with the loss of her mom, she started having money problems (which were resolved once her mom's estate was closed, but that took time). I felt like I should do something to help--anonymously. So late one evening after everyone was gone, I slipped money into an envelope and put it under her keyboard.
You know from the first paragraph that she's not the brightest person. But she is...I'm not sure what to call it...cunning? No. But somehow she knew the money was from me and not from the office in general. She thanked me, but I denied it and I know I didn't even show a hint of acknowledgement that she was right. It shouldn't have mattered either way. But it did.
Over the next few months she came to me three times with tales of woe about needing money for this or that. That would be fine, but she also gave me that look of expectation. That she was telling me so I would give her money. I did not. I only gave her advice. The first two times she left looking disappointed. The 3rd time it happened she gave me a dirty look when she realized no money would be changing hands.
That made me mad...and made me not want to help people.
For about a week. Then I got over it. We're supposed to help people. But that doesn't have to include people who annoy us, right? Right???
I have a co-worker who annoys me a lot. I don't like her. Never have. It's the lady who showed me how smart she was by explaining (3 times) why she buys value meals instead of getting the items ala carte. It's because the value meals are less expensive than buying the items individually. Who would have guessed? That's actually not an example of why she annoys me. It's her attitude towards her work. She does the minimum, interrupts people (with dumb stories) who are trying to work and wants to be praised for it. The result is I have no patience for her.
Anyway, a few years ago her mom passed away. She and her mom lived together and shared expenses. So in addition to dealing with the loss of her mom, she started having money problems (which were resolved once her mom's estate was closed, but that took time). I felt like I should do something to help--anonymously. So late one evening after everyone was gone, I slipped money into an envelope and put it under her keyboard.
You know from the first paragraph that she's not the brightest person. But she is...I'm not sure what to call it...cunning? No. But somehow she knew the money was from me and not from the office in general. She thanked me, but I denied it and I know I didn't even show a hint of acknowledgement that she was right. It shouldn't have mattered either way. But it did.
Over the next few months she came to me three times with tales of woe about needing money for this or that. That would be fine, but she also gave me that look of expectation. That she was telling me so I would give her money. I did not. I only gave her advice. The first two times she left looking disappointed. The 3rd time it happened she gave me a dirty look when she realized no money would be changing hands.
That made me mad...and made me not want to help people.
For about a week. Then I got over it. We're supposed to help people. But that doesn't have to include people who annoy us, right? Right???
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Grocery Shopping Evolution
I have no good ideas for a post! But I have spent a lot of time in grocery stores lately. So much that I've noticed my past, my present and my future in the other shoppers--and their approach to grocery shopping.
No cart: Teenagers, running in to grab one item for their parents (or party supplies); Men who think they can carry 12 items
Hand-held basket: College kids; Early career folks; Men who think 12 items will fit
Mini-cart: Elderly retirees; Men who refuse to get a full-size cart for 12 items
Full-sized cart: People who cook; Parents with one small child; Men who finally wised-up
Two full-sized carts: Tired parents (who may or may not cook) with multiple children; Human members of dog packs
Back down to one full-sized cart: Parents waiting for their kids to move out
This post is mostly nonsense--I've probably done all of the above (except use 2 carts) over the past few months. But I really can see the evolution of my life in the store. I used to be the guy who thought he didn't need a cart. Someday I will be the little old man pushing the mini-cart through the store every other day, browsing everything, trying to talk to people. If you have a moment to spare, say "hi" when we're in the same aisle. :)
Hopefully I won't be the homeless guy trying to walk away with a cart.
I've been spending way too much time in grocery stores!!!
No cart: Teenagers, running in to grab one item for their parents (or party supplies); Men who think they can carry 12 items
Hand-held basket: College kids; Early career folks; Men who think 12 items will fit
Mini-cart: Elderly retirees; Men who refuse to get a full-size cart for 12 items
Full-sized cart: People who cook; Parents with one small child; Men who finally wised-up
Two full-sized carts: Tired parents (who may or may not cook) with multiple children; Human members of dog packs
Back down to one full-sized cart: Parents waiting for their kids to move out
This post is mostly nonsense--I've probably done all of the above (except use 2 carts) over the past few months. But I really can see the evolution of my life in the store. I used to be the guy who thought he didn't need a cart. Someday I will be the little old man pushing the mini-cart through the store every other day, browsing everything, trying to talk to people. If you have a moment to spare, say "hi" when we're in the same aisle. :)
Hopefully I won't be the homeless guy trying to walk away with a cart.
I've been spending way too much time in grocery stores!!!
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