Friday, September 30, 2011

Me and the Universe

I am a born and raised Catholic and pretty proud of it.  I was baptized, went to catechism on Saturday’s when all the other kids were sleeping in or watching cartoons.  Then came the first communion and lastly or dare I say finally the confirmation!  Oh, then of course I put my children through all that as well!  Which meant I had to go to church while they were going because I couldn’t be a hypocrite, right? 

Then came the day, about four years after Youngest Kid made his confirmation when I was sitting by myself in church one beautiful Sunday morning and I had an epiphany!  I was still going to church all by myself out of habit.  Of course I didn’t walk out, but I did daringly not go the next Sunday, then the one after that and so on.  Until one day, the old catholic guilt set in and as I laid in bed I was actually arguing with myself whether I should get up and go.  So as I watched the clock tick closer to the D-minute where I wouldn’t be able to make mass, I declared aloud to Him.  

“I don’t have to go if I don’t want to!”  (no, no, lightening did not strike but I thought I heard a thunderstorm)


So now I am in charge of my own beliefs and free of guilt!  Yayyy right?  I still toy with the idea of going back to church even though I pray and have developed a guilt free relationship with Him on my own. 

Well cut to six years later and I am sitting in my apartment with my daughter’s dog, a glass of Merlot watching Under the Tuscan Sun with a box of tissue and some Chinese Food.  Wondering what the hell happened to my life!!  When my Besti FF calls and asks if I want to go to the Friday night melee that is downtown in the summer.  “But of course” I say in my worst french impression.

So here we are, Friday night, dressed up and the band is starting.  I am standing next to her and holding a beer, we are looking around and bobbing our heads while swaying back and forth to the music.  (yes it looked just as I described it.  I’m cool right?)  When I see him, the ex coming through the crowd with each arm around a girl.  OMGsh, heart squeezin’, can’t breathe, scream building, calm, calm. Wait, did he walk through a cloud of light?

When a person whose name I can’t remember (a little league acquaintance) steps in front of me and begins talking about relationships, blah, blah, blah. I am trying to look around her to see what he is doing and if he saw me, yep just like grade school on the playground.  When her voice comes back into focus and I say what???  Then she repeats it…

“What kind of man do you want?  Let’s throw it out there to the universe!”  Whaaaaa?

I said what any good and loyal catholic girl would say.  “You mean to God?  I already have, actually ever since the debacle that was my kids’ dad.”

No she says, make a list and throw it out there and ask for it!  You’re drunk I quip back.  Well, what do I have to lose!  So I do.

* I want him to be 6’2” to 6’4” (I’m 5’2”)

* I want him to have blue or green eyes

* I would love Brown hair, preferably a little long

* He is one or two years older than me

* Must be responsible

* Must have had a job for a long time

* Must be good with money

* Must be honest

* Must like kissing

* I want him to have a good heart

* He has to own his own house, so he has somewhere to go

* He has to be a traveler

* He has no kids or current ex’s in his life

* Bonus would be if he had a Harley

There it was!  My perfect guy, the One that I have been looking for while making my way through this thing called life.  The One that doesn’t exist.  Oh boo hoooooo!    


Two weeks later I am walking into a lobby of a bar/restaurant whilst out with friends.  A tad tipsy, I see this guy coming towards me so I stop him and ask if I can ask him a question because I just have to know.  He says sure and smiles.

*gulp*  I ask if I can kiss him.   So not like me!!  He says yes.  Yuuummmmoooo!!  I was right, just as I thought it would be.  The rest they say is history, we have been together ever since and the list thrown out to the universe?   Everything except the hair, well Sweet Significant had long brown but due to follicle challenges he began having, he is now bald.  Sexy, sexaaaay!

Since then I have had many discussions with people who are in need of something or someone and I let them boo hoo for a while then I tell them whether they pray or not, whether that have a religion or not, whether they have watched The Secret (I haven’t but Sweet wants everyone to) it doesn’t hurt to just ask and throw it out there.  The only thing to remember is to be true to your conviction.  Know what it is you are asking for because you might get it and if you do.  You better be ready.

So here is my next request to the Universe….  Question:  What do I want for my future?

Here it is Universe!  I will work hard to get it…

* A full time writing career as an author

* A fabulous go get ‘em agent that gets it and me

* A research assistant that enjoys traveling, giggles and laughs while we work

* A publishing company that brings with it a family and a team oriented working relationship

* My published books on shelves and in libraries,

* A part time career as a Travel Writer

* Earn just enough money to spend, play, pay my bills and save money for retirement without worry.

* Actually find my safe harbor to work and play there with family and friends.

* Bring back Book Mobiles with books of my newly formed writer friends

The last one reminds me of when I was little and I would wait by the sidewalk for the bookmobile like the other neighborhood kids waited for the ice cream truck.  *sigh*   good times~

So with that, it’s out there.  No need to finger cross, believe and throw yours out there.  Remember…    Conviction!


Have a great weekend my friends!

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Crazy Creative Emotions

Sometimes as I write on my blog, my short stories, writing prompts or the book that I just know I will be able to share with the world one day. I am often brought to tears at my own writing.  *dork*   Yep, as I am writing the tears just begin to flow.  I once wrote a story in the middle of Costco so I could test the keyboard of a laptop and just boo hoo’d as though noone else was there.   

With each heartfelt stroke of the pen or keystroke I find that some things just jump up and become something that I didn’t even know I had within myself.  Like a memory of personal tribulation or great joy, even a story that was told to me by a friend or passing stranger that I have held onto deep within. I can also say that certain stories bump up against my pocket of happiness or my bubble of sadness even though I thought I had blown that bubble away.

So today I wrote a story for a writing prompt on Writer’s Digest.com (which I love!) that wanted us to write about a special anniversary.  The story started as something I had once heard from a friend and ended up a story about two people I never met, but now consider friends.  Yes, I cried.

So I thought I would share this with you all and please if it connects with you or someone you know please let me know.  I would love to find out if others have the same experiences and if not, what are yours?

Thanks so much!!


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In the Rearview Mirror


He pulled up in front of the old church as the whispering winds swirled the leaves up around the tall steeples on either side of the building.  Martin walked in through the large oak doors and waited in the vestibule for Henry.  He could see him standing there with the others holding a chip.  They were patting him on the back and everyone was smiling.  As the crowd made their way to the refreshment tables for coffee and desserts, Henry looked up and finally saw him then walked over and looked Martin carefully in the eye and said what he said every year.

“I thought you wouldn’t make it this year.”

“I told you I would come as long as you needed me even though I don’t agree with it”

“Ya Ya, I know.  Look eight year chip”

“Nine year anniversary, are you ready?”

They walked out of the church together and down the steps to Martin’s car and they began the drive they made every year to Tahoe and back.  As the familiar drive took them through the freeways, tree lined and mountainous roads they talked about Martin’s new baby and his job.  Henry wanted to know everything that was happening to him.  Oh the joy of a good life!  Something that Henry knew deep down that he would never have but wouldn’t admit it.

Martin finally pulled into the familiar parking lot at Henry’s old watering hole, McP’s pub. They entered and sat at the bar.  Martin ordered an ice tea and water for them as they sat in silence and remembered that night so many years ago.  The drinks, the women, dancing and getting in the car for the long drive home, then the crash, the fire, the blood, the sirens, the chaos, the hospital, the regret and the enduring sadness that will forever linger.

“Are you ready for the drive back?”  Martin said with an understanding look as Henry nodded.

Back in Martin’s car they drove in silence until they came upon the site where it all happened.  Martin grabbed the flowers in the backseat and got out to lay them against the scarred tree as Henry stood with his hands folded in front of him.  They stood in silent comradeship.  Martin then walked back to the car and got in while Henry took a minute more then followed him for the long ride home. 

“Just drop me back at the church man,” Henry said as they drove into town. “I’m going to need another meeting.”

“Are you sure?” Martin asked with a heartbroken break in his voice. “You need to forgive yourself, it’s not your fault she died.”

“That’s what they keep saying but I was driving.  I am just glad you were ok.”  Henry was out of the car now and walking up the church steps towards the oak doors. As Martin drove away, he looked in the rearview mirror at the old abandoned church to see his friend vanish into thin air.


*sniff*

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

A delicate flower of spring

A delicate flower of spring is how I have often described Middle Kid.  She is tough, mean at times and has a tongue like a sword.  She is also caring, loving, loyal, beautiful, funny and just plain delicious.  I can hear the laugh that grows from her belly and pours out of her smile and dimples.  I wouldn’t have it any other way and as I sit here thinking of her and the baby that is growing inside of her, I get so melancholy that my stomach often jumps with love and pride. 

This isn’t to say that we haven’t had our moments!  Oh you betcha!  Screaming matches, slamming doors, tears, nose to nose confrontations that I won of course.  Pets passing, school bullies, brothers (need I say more?), divorce and remarriages.  Unfortunately for the only girl in the family besides myself, her Dad and I put her and her brothers through so much just so we could one up each other and boast or defend how much we loved each of them.  She always took it to heart.  That’s not to say that we didn’t have the best of times too!  I want to remember those times forever and I pray that her and the baby have three times the moments we did.


Things I remember….

I remember her in my arms and wrapped like a burrito.  The wide brown eyes looking back at me and after telling her Hi, the wide dimpled, toothless grin.

I remember MK (age 3) and First Born (age 4) in the backyard of our first house with McDonald Happy Meal plastic pumpkins on their heads with the handle around their little chins playing pirates in the dirt with sticks.

I remember the years of Wednesday night female bonding (age 7, 8, 9) where it would be just her and I (the boys were with their dad) doing whatever we wanted.  Out to dinner, doing homework, talking and laughing, dancing, singing, shopping, cooking, watching our favorite TV shows, her wearing my shoes and walking around the house.

I remember when we would shop for her birthday (age 12) and she would walk around Mervyn’s and look for the items that she had hidden over that past year throughout the store.  Gifts that she wanted to buy for me, her brothers, stepsisters, grandparents and even her dad.  I had to wipe her tears and convince her that although it was nice to buy them stuff, the trip was for her birthday.  Then she would convince me that that was what she wanted for her birthday, give them presents.  It made her happy.

I remember her first day of high school and stopping at the coffee shop for first day of school mochas then driving right up to the front of school and giving her hugs and kisses with a tear in my eye waiting for her to get out of the car.  MK sitting in the car frozen and staring forward, not wanting to get out, me leaning across her to open the door from my seat just to get her out and walk in.  She closed it again and with a nervous giggle and saying “I don’t want to go”.  Us repeating this two more times before I could get her out. 

I remember her first car that she purchased on her own by saving all her money from the bobby sox umpire earnings she had mastered all spring and summer.  The piece of crap blue Camaro that looked like it had been decorated for a mexican fiesta parade.  The fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror, the red cloth bobbles that surrounded the inside, the bouncy head dog that she got rid of, the sarape blankets that were used as seat covers.  She loved it!  I was worried…

I remember the first night that she moved out so excitedly and I cried all night in bed just wondering if she had food or was warm.  Yep, first night.  Don’t think I didn’t get crap for that one.

I remember her first big girl job after she had moved back in to save money.  We would get up and have breakfast and coffee, getting ready for work together and leaving the house with our coffee mugs.  Kisses and hugs as we got in our cars and driving away.

I remember her wanting to move in with me to take care of me after my divorce.  Resting my head on her shoulder so I could cry.  Bringing her crazy friends over to cheer me up with bar b q’s, swimming in the apartment pool, dancing in the kitchen, watching movies and most of all just watching them laughing and talking about their 20 something party stories.  So much fun!

Now here she is about to have her own baby, living with her Sweetheart, working two jobs to save money.  My baby girl….    *tear*

My delicate flower is grown up and her spring is unfolding into a beautiful garden to which I pray no thorns will ever poke.



Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Eat a Hamburger!!

When one purposely embarks on a journey that will eventually change one’s life, they must realize that the original journey has many vein journeys that are available to stay on track.  Your job is to know which veins are needed to assist you.  One such vein journey for me is getting back to my comfortable weight so I feel healthy and strong again, even confident, oh and most importantly my photo on the back of my first novel.  wink wink

So after talking with an old friend and learning how he had lost 18 LB’s in the last two months by walking (little jogging) for exactly 1 full hour everyday.  I thought yayyy!!  I can do this too! As I have mentioned before, I have gained 20 LB’s in the last two years through love, laugh and happiness.

I bought a harness for my puppy, trained him on the leash and off we go.  By the third day, we have it down and I’m feeling really good.  I can feel the weight dropping off and falling to the earth as I walk. I feel like the sewing slaves in the movie OZ,  when they start unzipping the thick skins that they had to wear and reveal their dancer bodies.

I mapped out a route in our residential community for my hour and I’m watching the clock on my Iphone and note that we are on the home stretch.  Oliver and I are walking along one of the main roads and a car coming from the opposite direction is about to pass us when someone leans out of the car window and yells…

“Eat a Hamburger”

I turn and yell back as they drive off…

“I did, why do you think I look like this!!”

Then the skinny, very fit jogger passes me.  So they weren’t talking to me, oh embarrassed.  I ask the jogger about it and she just throws out that it happens all the time as she turns a corner.

I look around and just keep walking, it’s a journey.




Sunday, September 18, 2011

Sunday = Football and family??

Well another Sunday and yep football is back!  I remember the days when my house was full and chaotic with my kids, their friends, dogs and grandkids.  Cooking mega meals for the family and friends that had dared come over to join in the fun.  Football crowds and whistles flowing through the speakers on the big screen down in the family room.  The fated sounds of the men and boys screaming for their teams and betting or throwing out predictions.

Culinary aromas wafting through the air in the kitchen and the sound of wine corks popping from the delectable wine collection brought by that days partakers.  Outside you could hear ice shoved maliciously around the ice chest as someone was pulling a bottle out then the sound of popping open a cold one as the sliding door was yet again opened and closed. 

I used to get a little depressed that this was no longer my life and realized that the only thing I miss of my previous marriage was my life.  Not him or the marriage.

I now live with Sweet significant and today Sunday’s are relaxed.  We sleep late and watch football, cook food together and have the cocktail if we feel like it and enjoy our puppy Oliver.    I read a quote on twitter (the daily love) this morning which really spoke to me.

The good news is you need not wait a moment longer for anyone's permission but your own to be happy!

Isn’t that great!!  So with that I want to share another kid story and I hope your team wins today and you have a great Sunday!!
 

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Youngest Kid~ Age 4

Youngest Kid and I are in the grocery store picking a few things up and he is such a good boy and always has been.  YK could always play by himself and in the store he would hold onto the cart as I walked and would sing or talk to me about his day or the best par is when he would tell me the stories that he would make up on the spot!  I loved it.

We get in line to check out and we are standing behind a man who is standing behind another woman that is talking with the clerk. Apparently the two women knew each other and were chatting, so as I begin to put our items on the sliding table and lay down the separator.  I notice that the man is getting inpatient with the two women.  He is shifting his weight from side to side and foot to foot.  His big sighs were released into the supermarket air with such exasperation.  Eyes were rolling, his head was shaking.

Then out of nowhere and as if in slow motion I see YK bring his hand up the man’s jacket and begin to pull it to get his attention.  As I lean over to grab his little hand (still in slow motion), the man looks down and YK says:

“I know how ya feel mister, I have to go poop too!”

I was mortified and highly amused at the same time.  I was hoping that the man found it just as amusing because I didn’t want this moment destroyed because I had to stick up for a four year old.  The man simply picked up his three items and looked at me and said smiling:

“Please go ahead of me, it seems your young man has to use the restroom”

He then stepped behind us and picked up a separator then placed his items back down. I said thank you with a little giggle, the ladies that were chatting started laughing and moved along to.  All for YK!  My little hero.


Happy Sunday!!

Friday, September 16, 2011

Where are my funny blog stories?

So of the many blogs that I have read, I note most are extraordinary mommies that work, blog, raise kids and cook.  They all have the funniest stories about their babies.  Many times as I think of what I am going to write, I instantly go to a story of my kids, but because my three babies are adults now, the only stories I have are in past tense.

Oh Boo hoo~

So today, as I do every morning, I begin the same ritual with my beautiful pom puppy Oliver.  Get up, go outside to potty, give him his vitamin, have breakfast, play and then I sit down and read my fav blogs, read emails, etc.  As I am having my breakfast and listening to music choice while I start to work on my book, I look down and see Oliver at my feet nipping at the chair.  A sure sign of needing to go outside!  He is thirteen weeks old and already potty trained.  Something that Sweet and I are very proud of although Sweet isn’t too happy of the case of potty pads that he bought.  I remind him that it will rain one day and we will need them.

So I get up and Oliver runs to the front door jumping and dancing (so cute) and I open the door so he runs down the porch steps onto the lawn, sniffs around and finds a place to pee.  As usual we come back in the house for a treat which he jumps and dances for because of course he is so proud.  Right? 

I sit back down at my laptop and this smart guy then gives me a look at the opening from the foyer to where I am sitting and stares at me.  I inquire.  He runs to the front door, so I get up and we go outside again, this time to poo.  We come back in and I sit down after all the claps, yayyys and good boy adulations.  I walk over to the laptop and before I sit he sits down by the pantry and waited for a second treat.


I just got treat snaked by my puppy!  Well at least now I now where my cute stories are ;}

Sunday, September 11, 2011

We will never forget!!

I remember where I was that horrific day ten years ago just as everyone else does.  I was taking the older kids to school and had my two step sons with me going back to the house.  They were still in elementary school.  I was listening to the Armstrong and Getty show on the radio when they had said something about an accident in New York and I remember that there was a strange tone in Jack and Joe's voices.

I pulled into the driveway and the boys and I ran upstairs to my room where I turned the TV on.  I was stunned!!  We were watching as the second plane hit the south tower.  I began to cry and the boys were asking what had happened.  With tears in my eyes, I replied "I think America has just been attacked."

Little did I know that ten years later we would have a controversal war, political infighting and many more dead.  Sad.

So with that said, please remember only the men and women that lost their lives that horrible day and pray for their families.

We will never forget ...

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Yosemite Trip * Last day

Well our last day and thinking about breaking down our tent and packing up again.  Exhausting.  Then in the beautiful quiet of the Yosemite morning, my cell phone rings very loudly with a call from my Dad.  I was shocked to hear the ring because we hadn’t had any reception for the last few days and Dad got through.  Weird.  He was puppy sitting my baby Pomeranian and wanted to know what time we would be home.  I told him probably around four.

So we got up, had coffee and granola yogurt.  Sat around for a bit, then began the most awesome job of packing it up.  We were finally out of there by noon and on our way home.  You know the trip home isn’t as fun as the ride up.  Oh it’s still beautiful and I love Old Priest grade road just past Groveland is lovely.  After that, it’s just roads and freeways. 

So now we are home and unpacking ice chests and food bags.  Dusting sleeping bags and laundry.  Yuck~

Anyhoo, we are tired and I have laundry to put in the dryer and go get my puppy from Gramma and Poppa’s house. So ta ta for now!!

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Yosemite Trip * Day 3

Well today we slept in until 8:30 this morning!  Yaayyyy!  Not sure where Quentin was but he wasn’t screaming nor was his screams echoing throughout the park.   Nope, just the morning voices of other campers and birds.  

Anyhoo, Sweet and I had a nice breakfast together of leftover pizza and coffee.  I made my coffee from the Folger’s singles that I found at Safeway.  Best invention ever!  I just heated water in my tea kettle and then steeped it in my old covered mug I use in the car for traveling.  FAB!!  Then once it was brewed, I poured the resulting sweet nectar of morn into the camping coffee cups.  Magda and Jeremy went to the showers and their son and his girlfriend took Memphis for a walk because he wasn’t feeling too good.  May have been all the Cheezits that I gave him last night.  Ooopsie!

Once everyone was back at camp we inflated our rafts.  Fun right?  Once the rafts were filled, I sat down because I was getting a head ache with all the plans to get the cars where they were going to be, or which entry area, blah, blah, blah.  I opened a Fat Tire and picked up girlfriends US weekly.  OK the plan!

Jeremy and his son will take their suv’s to the Swinging bridge and then he and son will take the other truck to the raft opening.  We are taking Sweet’s truck to the Curry village parking lot and then we will meet at the opening.  Magda will wait with Girlfriend at the opening so when we walk up, we will know where the opening is at.So Sweet and I carried our raft from the parking lot and met Magda and Girlfriend there to wait for Jeremy and Son.

We all get in our rafts and our journey begins.  I was so excited because I have been raft floating down the Sacramento river and this was Yosemite right?   As I have said before, from the time Sweet and I met right up to now, we have gained 20 LB’s or so each.  With this trip, we had to pose the question: Can you put two fatties in a raft that was meant for one person?

Answer:  You can’t

That raft trip was so comical, their were times Sweet got out to pull me and the raft dragged the bottom because the water was so low in areas that we weren’t going anywhere and my Bum felt it.  Magda and Jeremy were having the same problem because they had a two person raft but they had the ice chest in theirs.  Son and girlfriend (the young skinny bitches) had Memphis (82 pound Black Lab) in their raft.  We all had trouble.  It certainly was an adventure!  Trying to get in and out of the raft when the water was low, trying to get in when water high and the water was flowing.  At one point I fell in because Sweet was trying to help me out of the raft and let me just say, one foot in and one foot out.  Splits!   I can’t stop giggling to which this is frustrating him and I ask “Did anyone see me?”  to which he replied “Everyone saw”  Then he smiled.  Sheesh~

It reminded me of watching a movie!  I may put that experience in a book someday, hmmm.  Halfway through I wanted to know how much longer.  Yep, I actually asked.  We finally made it to the beach (which the wind had kicked up and the sand was stinging our legs) and had a few beers.  Then all the girls climbed up to the closest path and walked the rest of the way to the swinging bridge and the guys floated the rest of the way. 

The plan worked and we were all loaded into the vehicles with a wet dog and made our way back.  So finally back at camp, we showered and changed to get ready to eat.  Today’s cocktails were vodka crans with lime.  Mmmmm..

The final night’s menu was Chili cheese dogs and the rest of the salad.  Oh so good!  Then of course the smores!!   Good times!!!  We sat around after that and talked and enjoyed the company.  The moon was shining, and then I went to bed.  I was so tired.



Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Yosemite Trip * Day 2

Ahh, sweet morning light when camping.  Birds singing, other campers waking and Quentin!

This child was up at six in the morning screaming and screaming, then laying in the tent next to Sweet while he snores.  Camping at it’s best!

Luckily, I had my notebook and began writing different notes for my book.  I found that it was actually easier to write in my notebook than on the computer because then I don’t self edit.  It was freewriting in all its glory.  Once everyone in our site was moving, Magda and I started breakfast.  Scrambled eggs, bacon and texas toast grilled on a flat pan.  Mmmmmmmm…

So today’s activity was going for a bike ride around the whole park so after breakfast we packed up our ice chest and loaded it on the back of Jeremy’s bike.  We all got on our bikes and were moving by eleven.  Now since I have been with Sweet, he and I both have gained 20 LB’s in two years.  No es bueno ;{ 

So needless to say we weren’t riding our bikes like the fairy nymphs we once were, then after stopping at Happy Isles for a beer and beautiful view, we took off again to ride the park. About an hour or so later, Magda realizes that she doesn’t have her camera and that Jeremy had rested the camera on her platform attached to the back of her bike.  Jeremy has been going to Yosemite since a wee child and he knows the park better than anyone I have ever known, they flew back to Happy Isles to look for it to no avail.  Sweet pretty much kept up with them and I tried until I didn't.  *need to rethink the gym*

I personally would have cried, but she soldiered on.  Her son’s college graduation pictures were still on the memory card and Fourth of July.  Awwww….

So that put a dent in the fun and we went back to camp and had lunch.   The rest of the afternoon was spent out at the Swinging bridge to swim and oh the water was freezing but yet refreshing.  Sweet wouldn’t get in because he forgot his water shoes (oh, I forget them apparently) so his nick name was Sissy Foot while we all had fun.

Back at the campground after we had all cleaned up and hung the suits on the line.  We had Blue Death’s made by Magda, very interesting cocktail.  Sweet then grilled all the steaks and we had three different salads with some wine then the piece de resistance!!!!

Essss mores!  Love them!!  By my sixth smore, tired.  I went to bed.



Monday, September 5, 2011

Yosemite Trip * Day 1

Well always fun the first day of a vacay trip.  It’s Monday, September 5th and we are going on a camping trip to Yosemite.  Sweet significant said he had wanted to leave by eight AM but I knew that was not to be.  Bless his heart but he has rituals that must be abided by in order to begin a project and packing up the expedition I affectionately call Bruce was a project.  I was up at five AM writing and when he got up at seven, I was rearing to go.  I think the five cups of coffee assisted a little.

I really love when characters wake you up and want to be written.  *hugs to me*

So after Bruce is all packed and we are getting ready to leave, he notices a leak on the driveway.  Oh man.  He has to check the differential now because preparing for the trip the night before, something happened to the seal.  So in order to go, we have to keep an eye on this.  Pain in the ass..   Grrrrr.

So we made it to Yosemite and it is 5:41 and it was amazing to watch the mass exodus out of the park as we were pulling in.  Sweet is the bestest planner, so we get a text from our friends to let us know that we are at upper pines campground.  It’s so beautiful there and we meet up with Magda and Jeremy (not their real names, ever see Bridget Jones?) get camp set up and have a few beers.  We then went up to the cafeteria area and ordered a pizza.  We had pizza out on the deck under the moonlight, it was a great night and very relaxing.  We went back to camp and Jeremy went about setting a fire when Magda reminded him of the time.  The ranger would come and shut it down, but he made the fire anyway. 

Quite a bit of work later and 10 minutes into the fire, the ranger drove by and told us to put it out.  After a few giggles watching the men try to put this fire out that they had worked so hard for, I went to bed. 
 
Good times!

Friday, September 2, 2011

It isn't homework, right?

Since I have started this blog, the one thing that I haven’t been able to master is the freeblog.  I have become confident in my freewriting and have actually had fun with it.  Creative juices are flowing!!   Freeblogging has been quite a different story.  After talking with a good friend about my blog and whining about all my concerns. 
She simply said, “Your blogs are good, but it seems like your putting your homework assignments up for the teacher to grade.”   Ok so she said it with a smile, but ouch.  When I started this, I wanted to be a free and easy blogger.  Just like all the blogs I read before I started.  Alas, after reading them back.  I am not.  I guess it just takes time as with any other relationship, yes?
So I want to say to anyone reading this to have a safe and happy Labor Day weekend with your family and friends.  Please enjoy each and every minute of it!!  Talk with you soon and don’t drink and drive!

Thursday, September 1, 2011

A home remembered

I have been going through old stories that I have written for school, myself or just to jot down a memory and came across this little story that I had written to remember the week we buried my grandmother in 1994.  I had completely forgotten that I had written it and it was a nice surprise and still brings the memories flooding back.  It’s funny about memories, they can trigger smells, songs, feelings and emotions often thought gone or filed away in a long forgotten part of the brain.  I want to share this with you and please let me know what you think or share your story with me.  Enjoy and Thanks for stopping by!!


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It was the spring of nineteen ninety-four and in the alcove of my home of two months; I made my way to the front door.  A difficult task while carrying the bat bags of Little League, Bobby Sox and T-Ball in one arm while cradling Stretch Armstrong and holding onto a couple of McDonalds bags with the other. The vibration of the pager against my hip made me jump as I tried to grab the keys to open the door.  All that I was holding came crashing to the floor and I stood there just staring at the result giggling with my beautiful eight year old daughter as she looked up at me. “Who paged you mommy?”  She said with more curiosity about the pager than who was behind the page.

“I haven’t looked yet, but it better be good because it scared the bajeezus out of me!”  She giggled a little more then bent down to help me pick things up and at the same time yelled for her brothers to come help as I opened the front door. 

With everyone finally settled at the table and lunch in front of them, I dialed the number to call my Mother who had been the page from earlier.  “Hello Mother, what’s up?”  I said distracted, as I looked up movie times in the local paper.  “Grandma died.”  She said plainly.  I froze.  The only thing I could think of at the time was which one?  I had actually voted in my head as to which Grandmother it might be.  Crazy.

The funeral for my paternal Grandmother was the following Thursday and we were all expected to make arrangements and be at the Big House on Monday.  The drive from my home to hers became more familiar and yet just as unrecognizable as I got closer to her town and neighborhood. I realized that I hadn’t been to see her in years nor had I really seen anyone.  I felt justified for my reasons while a knot began to form in my stomach and I could feel the migraine begin.  I became melancholy of what I had missed and at the same time afraid of what I was about to see again.  I felt the need to turn and run as I had always done.  I could mourn her on my own, right?

I pulled up in front of the house with mixed emotions and I sat in the car just staring at the house that had been so much of my childhood.  My babies were already out of the car running to my Mother and Sister with kisses and hugs and I looked up from the chin lean that had started on the steering wheel after hearing my name.  Cousins, aunts and uncles had begun to come out with smiles and arms wide open to welcome me.  It was then that all the years of pent up anger began to melt away and I wondered if maybe all this time I had been wrong about my memory of what the childhood had been.  Had I stayed away for reasons that didn’t exist?  Still not sure. 

I began to hear Vincente Fernandez singing in the air that I breathed; I smelled the familiar spices of cumin and burnt chipotle peppers wafting through the air.  I smelled the grass as I moved and mothballs as I walked through the front door, then smiled with tears forming in my eyes.  That week, preparing to bury my grandmother, we hugged, laughed, danced and reminisced.  We remembered family and I was home.