Month: January 2012

What To Say

Last week was a year since my cousin’s wife, Carol, died.  At the wedding we went to last week, I spoke with Rhonda’s cousin who’s daughter died last spring.  And if you read this blog……….

http://www.aninchofgray.blogspot.com/

……….you’ll be crying several times a week.  This was probably the saddest Christmas season I can recall since my own dad died.  Too many people on my mind, too many stories of loss, too many people walking the lonely road of grief.  And just what can one do for someone in that situation?

Please tell me if there is an alternative to saying, “I’m keeping you in my thoughts and prayers.”  For God’s sake, Ann Curry says it practically daily on the Today Show.  It’s right up there with “Have a nice day” as far as casually dropped and shallow in meaning statements.

But in the face of overwhelming grief for people we care about, what else of value do we have to offer?

Selling The Self

Every year the Kansas City Star invites writers to apply to a panel called Midwest Voices.  Ten people are chosen to write a column four times over the course of a year.  My writer friend, Ellen, just finished her gig and I decided to give it a shot.

The application process required a sample of your writing as well as a written bio.  I agonized over what to send and changed my mind a dozen times.  The deadline was mid-December and I hit “send” with high hopes that what I submitted was what they were looking for.  It was not.

On Saturday, the paper introduced the readers to its new panel and this is what we learned about these writers………..one guy likes to play with his pit bull and eat red meat, another likes to read comics and tabloid magazines, one was a high school champion table tennis player.  Of the women, we have someone who likes to tweet, another who walks, works out and chases her dogs and somebody who does origami.

I think I may have misunderstood the bio portion of the process.  I kept it simple and said I was married with three kids, a partner in a vintage decor business and wrote a blog.  It never occurred to me that anyone would be interested in what kind of meat I ate, what sport I excelled in forty years ago, or that when The World News was still in publication, my favorite story was of newborn monkeys being dressed in children’s clothing and passed off as human babies up for adoption.

Note to self for next time:  Dumb. It. Down.

Going To The Chapel

Rhonda’s son got married last weekend and it was lovely.  The new Mr. and Mrs. were all googly-eyed, Rhonda looked like a million bucks, the reception was fun and dancy, and The Big Daddy and I and the fam had a blast.

At the end of the wedding ceremony, the priest said the bride and groom would be seeing all of us shortly at the reception at 146th and Mission Road.  We came home for a spell and when it was time to leave for the party, The Big Daddy announced he knew E.X.A.C.T.L.Y where it was.  He bikes that way all the time.

On the drive there, he pointed out all the biking routes he’s taken.  “Now here I would normally go right and up that hill.  Look at that hill.”  This went on until I said to him that he didn’t have to share every stinkin’ detail to a bunch of non-biking passengers.  Sheesh, how ’bout you create some mystery once in awhile?

At 151st and Mission I told him he’d gone too far.  Nope, he said, it’s here.  Well, why did they say it was at 146th at the church?  I bike here all the time, he says,  So we’ve heard.  For twenty minutes.  Up and down the street we went arguing the entire time.  We turned at 146th and it was a park.  The event space was down yonder from there, but we didn’t figure that out until the second try.

By the time we pulled into the parking lot we pretty much couldn’t stand each other.  Nice wedding reception attitude.  We found a table and he made a beeline to the bar.  A glass of wine later, all was forgotten.

That night as I watched The Brand New Mr. and Mrs., I was tempted to tell those crazy-in-love kids……..Enjoy this night.  It’s absolutely perfect, and from this day forward you’d better buckle your seat belt cuz you’re about to go for a ride.

Source: etsy.com via Helen on Pinterest

Batten Down The Hatches

In January 1967, Chicago had a winter storm that didn’t leave until it had dumped 26″ of snow.  The day before it was sixty degrees.  Those days were long before our current sophisticated radars, so nobody knew it was coming.  My dad carpooled to the city with a guy who had a VW Beetle, and it took them eight hours to get home.  Mom was worried sick as the only conversation she’d had with him was at 3:00 when he said he was leaving the office.

Those were the days when men were men and a snowstorm was a snowstorm.

On the local news this afternoon, it was reported that we just may get our first look at the white stuff.  Doppler radar showed it in western Kansas with predicted arrival at about 9:00 p.m. and tapering off at 2:00 a.m.  Reporters were sent to overpasses and highways, and the streets and sanitation guy was interviewed to see if they were ready with salt and crews to spread it.

Protect the women and babies.  Predicted snowfall amount is 1″.

Verbage

Nancy and I have expanded the space we rent to sell our vintage wares.  While we previously rented half the space, we now rent the entire room.  We had a pretty good weekend and now have to refill our space in ten days.  Hence, no time to write.  This says it all along with the paint and stain still stuck under my nails from working all day yesterday on some dressers that are…….awesome.

An Offer

Last week I got a letter from a psychiatrist.  I know.  How did he know I needed a couple of sessions???  I ripped open the envelope and here’s the short version of what it said…………..

In May I wrote a letter to the editor of the paper that got published.  It was critical of some new policies enacted by our state legislature and governor.  This doctor had read the letter and suggested I consider becoming a precinct captain for the Democratic Party in my area since the party is lacking one for the 2012 election.

There’s a couple of things wrong here.  First, I had no idea what letter he was talking about and had to search the archives of the paper to even read what I wrote.  Second, there are actually people who read a letter, note where it’s from, and then reference it seven months later in order to fill a volunteer position for a political party.  Third, there are about twenty Democrats in my entire precinct and I know all of them.  Lastly…………

……..some folks just don’t take kindly to you knocking on their door and wondering who they might be voting for on Election Day.

Queen Mumisms

We recently went to see the fam.  Mallie Bee and I stayed with my mom, Big Daddy and the rest stayed a few miles away at my sister and brother-in-law’s house since neither house is big enough for all of us.

Since we’ve been married we’ve never lived all that close to home so I only see my mom a couple of times a year.  She’s always been entertaining, but especially this time when she was talking about this guy………….

Source: askmen.com via Susan on Pinterest

“That guy is such a horse’s ass,” she said one night.

WHAT?????????????????????

“Oh, he is.  He has no intention of ever marrying any of those babes he dates.  None whatsoever.”

True that, but LOOK. AT. THAT. FACE.  Then we watched Fashion Police because she loves Joan Rivers who’s face is only shown for seconds at a time so as not to scare the bejeezits out of anybody everybody.

Going Down The Chimney

When The Teacher Girl was a mere baby, we had a two-door VW Jetta.  About 99% of the time, we conked her head on the door frame as we were putting her in her car seat in the back.  She’d start wailing and we’d console her, and before long I think she kind of expected it and quit crying.

We were that kind of stellar first-time parents.

During her baby years, my sister and her husband had a cute, old house that had a circular fireplace in the middle of the living room.  It vented through the roof so there was a hole cut in their bedroom floor for the pipe.  Like you could be upstairs and look through the hole to the first floor and tell The Captain to crack open another beer, you’re coming down for a cold one.  Anyhow, Sister Jean, me and The Little Teacher Girl were upstairs looking at some new clothing purchases that the sis had made.  We looooooooooove doing Retail Show and Tell.  Little Teacher Girl was crawling by then so we both knew we needed to keep an extra close eye on her so she didn’t fall through the hole.  All was going well until we both got distracted by the clothes and…………”Hey, where did that Little Varmint go?????”

Oh shit, we both thought at the same time and went tearing down the stairs.  There sat The Little Teacher Girl on the floor and I’m no mind reader, but I think if she could talk she would have said………How the f*** did you two morons let this happen????

Lord. Have. The. Mercy.  It scared the bejeezus out of us.  And The Little Teacher Girl?  Well, we think she slid down the pipe and landed on the floor diaper first.  She didn’t make a peep, and I’m not sure if it was because she was so stunned by what had just happened to her or if all those times she got conked on the head had trained her for that day.

Cranium

At The Annual Family Bowl, my sister announced that she was hosting Game Night the following evening.  This was a surprise to everyone, including her husband.

When I got there, I decided to spend my time surfing the ipad and getting my internet fix since my mom doesn’t have a computer.  The Teacher Girl thought this was unacceptable and told me I couldn’t stay at the table unless I was playing.  She has numerous control issues when it comes to board games.  Fine by me, I said, but when I got up to leave there was nowhere to go.   Mom said, “Well, if there’s nobody sitting on the toilet you can have that seat.” 

By Game #Two I decided to play, and I won’t say who, but somebody fell off their chair and that’s when things really got fun.  After a few times around the table playing Fact or Crap, Mom asked the Fallee if she had fastened the seatbelt on her chair.

When the idea of Game Night was discussed the night before, The Queen Mum didn’t seem all that interested.  Who knew she was out to win and packing some serious swag?

Source: amazon.com via Katie on Pinterest