Thursday, May 18, 2017

Who got into the chocolate chips?

A story retold by Grandma Donna on Christmas 2016.   At this particular time, we were all sitting about the living room and I was trying to get both grandmas and one grandpa to tell some stories abot their kids growing up, funny things they remember or how things used to be in "the good ole days".  

Grandma was first to chime in.

"I'll tell you about one time.  Well, we lived in the trailer and you kids were little.  And by little I mean you were walking good and climbing up onto everything.  I'd put you about 2 years old or so.  You were very adventurous and pretty wild.   On this day,  I walked into the kitchen and you had managed to climb up on top of the kitchen counter.   You were standing there on top of the counter with the cabinet door in your hand and the door flung wide open.   You looked ornery as all get out and guilty as sin.   In your pudgy little hands were gobs and gobs of gooey, melted chocolate chips.  You had eaten most of them but also spilled a good lot all about the counter, onto the floor and into the folds of your clothes.  There was chocolate just everywhere and chocolate chips all over your face and all over everything.  I stood there for a moment, then finally said,  "Who got into the chocolate chips?" Then, you swallowed the lump of chocolate in your mouth and looked at me as seriously as anything and said, "I don't know .  . . mabye it was Terry!"

Sunday, July 24, 2016


A story about Uncle Rich as retold by Grandma Donna, July 2016. 

I want to tell you what happened to my brother when he was five years old.

He got a bright red bike for his 5th birthday. The bike was huge.   He wasn't a big kid and the bike was an adult size bike, made for a man-sized person with a bar, the old "man-bar" kinds of bikes.  Ladies' bikes had a curve in the frame and men's had a straight bar that you had to straddle to get on and to stop.   

I remember quite a lot of discussion in the house about the size of that bike when he got it.  One parent would say, "Why did you get this?  It’s way too big and he’s going to get hurt."   

The other side claimed that he would grow into it and things would be fine.  "Let him be a boy, already!"

Well, he loved the idea of that bike, so ZOOM . . .  off he went!  

Not to far into his maiden bike ride, he came to a car.   Unsure of himself and how to handle his new gigantic bike, he hit the breaks with his tiny little foot, flung himself headlong into the car, which  launched him forward and he whacked his business on the bar.

The whole episode happened within eyesight, but beyond arm's reach and he came home proclaiming, "I whacked myself on the bar .  . . I whacked my tallywhacker." 

And for the rest of my brother’s life, he called his boy-parts his "tallywhacker".

Sunday, July 17, 2016

A little hiatus

I've taken a short hiatus.  Or long.   It doesn't mean that I'm not here, it just means I've been somewhere else.   I feel like reiterating the goal is important, such that I have a shining mommy moment.  The goal is to build stories for generations.  The goal is to write down the things that make a life.  The balance is to do it, along with everything else, and still be present.  So, yeah, I've taken a hiatus.  It's because I'm being present for the people in my life who matter.   I realize it's a bit of a "I'll write it down later attitude" but that's fine by me.   I picked up a book to help jump start things again.   It's mostly listography prompts to help when there isn't anything bubbling to the surface.  Also, as is my age old problem . . . . I want things in order.  I want a chronological package so it's all nice and tidy and tied up with a pretty bow.   But life ain't necessarily like that, so while I realize I'm hopping around . . . . you guys will just have to hop around with me.

Monday, January 14, 2013

What was your favorite pastime as a child?

Being outside.  As a little kid, and by little I mean prior to 4th grade, so under 10-range, we lived on 5 acres, out in the boondocks, about 7 miles outside the 'town', if it could be called such.  Our house was a green double wide mobile home with white trim.  Our driveway was long and there were huge trees on both sides of the drive when you turned in.  We had lots of 'out-buildings'.   A small garage -- where the cars lived, but it was open to the side, so it looked more like a barn.  A shed -- it was metal and held bikes and tools and other assorted things.  A big garage -- it held dad's boat and the motor home and an empty bay that had timber in it and lots of fun but dangerous things that my brother and I climbed on.  There was the barn ... where the horses lived.  There was the pump house, where the well-controls were which was next to the garden.  The driveway was circular and it had giant bumps and ruts in it.  And it drove my a Russian Olive tree that my mom loved.  There was a swingset.  And a trampoline.  A back porch, but not a front.

It's this layout, forever burned into my brain where my favorite times were spent.  My favorite pastime as a kid was playing dress up with the kittens on the back porch.  It was playing in the haystack, the woodpile or on the basketball court.  It was playing on the trampoline, swinging or climbing on the swings, riding the horses, walking the fields and looking for asparagus, flowers or other assorted treasures.  My brother and I dug foxholes in the ditches, climbed fences, made forts, played hide and seek and spent hours and hours outside.  It was doing anything outside ... being anywhere outside.  THAT was my favorite pastime as a child.

January 2013

Florence Littauer said, "The beauty of the written word is that it can be held close to the heart and read over and over again."

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

My Favorites . . .

So many times, a song or a thing fleets across my memory and I think, "Oh, a green Saturn, that's what Grammy used to drive."  It's not meant to be the only association you have, it's just a little thing that builds a bridge and it makes sense to start here, with my favorites:

My favorite flower . . . . is the Alaskan Shasta Daisy, but I also LOVE lilac bushes in spring along with snowball bushes.  I'm a big fan of flowering shrubs in general.  I adore working in the garden and have a love for any one of a million common perennial garden flowers.  Iris remind me of my dad.  Lilies make my heart sing.  I love, love, love sedum.  Violas make me happy and remind me of Grandma Mills.   It's probably easier to name flowers I don't like.  I don't like yarrow, am not a fan of sunflowers and associate carnations with funerals.

My favorite perfume . . .  Well, I don't have one.  My favorite scent on skin is fresh cleanliness that can only come with good hygiene.  I love the mix of smells from a good shampoo, nice conditioner,  a soft body wash and a good teeth scrubbing with good old fashioned toothpaste.  I sometimes spritz on a bit of body mist.  I'm a fan of vanilla because I like to smell like fresh baked cookies.

Color . . . blue.  And green.  And rust.  And yellow.  And red.  Oh, so hard to pick a favorite.

Song . . . Oh, I do NOT know.  I love lots of music.  I love lots of different artists across many different decades of music.  That, truly is impossible to choose.   I have a blessed memory for song lyrics and once I learn the words to a song, they are with me forever.  It probably takes up a ton of brain storage, but it's who I am.  I'm like that with phone numbers, too.

Book . . . I'm an avid reader, but don't have a favorite.  The best book I've read lately is The Chaperone.   I like adventure, romance, fantasy . . . again, it's impossible to choose just one.

Saying or Quotation . . . "It's the little things."

Dessert . . . Fresh baked chocolate chip cookies.  I'm a cookie connoisseur.  I also really love a good snicker-doodle.

Vacation spot . . . Breckenridge, Colorado.  Or Montana.  Or California.

Type of food . . . Salad.  I love a good salad.

Sport . . . Gymnastics.

Movie . . . City of Angels is where I always land even though I probably have several others.

Leisure Activity . . . Gardening.  Or biking.  Or painting.  Or doing house remodeling or re-design. Or organizing stuff.  I'm always organizing something.