Twelve years ago my mother passed away.
At the time of her death my mother had a lot of possessions. Like any American, anyway; she probably had too much. During the weeks & months that came after, it came down to my sister & I to figure out what to do with all that stuff. Actually, the bulk of that responsibility fell on my sister, due to her living closest to my mother's home.
It was not an easy job.
Besides all the emotional aspects, there was all this stuff! You know the stuff I mean - not the stuff that is easy; the stuff mother had already mentioned to us: "Now, you will take the ruby ring because it's your son's birthstone." or "This necklace is for your oldest daughter." No, the stuff I mean is, well, just stuff.
Think of your own junk drawer - don't lie; I know you have one! What is that stuff, anyway? Do you know? & if you don't know, will someone coming along after you know?
A sampling of MY junk drawer at this moment yields: an empty Tic-Tac box, a letter opener, old sunglasses that no one wears, a broken pirate magnet, assorted business cards, coins, paperclips & clothes pins. Just to list a few things.
Now look at the drawers in someone else's house & they ALL become junk drawers, because we do not know how to assign value to stuff that was not ours. Or, strike that, we can assign value, just not the same value as it may have had for the original owner.
My mother. How do we decide what to throw away? Is something more valuable, more worthwhile, just because it belonged to my mother? Is it disrespectful to throw away what we might consider to be junk, tho it was not junk to her? Is it wrong to coldly assess her possessions for value in this way?
Well, no. It has to be done. But you find yourself holding onto some strange thing, like a doilie or something, that you found mashed in the back of a drawer, & suddenly you are overwhelmed, & you sit there with the thing in your hand & you are stuck. It gets to be too much.
Long time back, 12 years.
So, I wonder to find one day, last year, something from my mother's junk drawer, here, in my jewelry box, on this island in the middle of the Caribbean. Far away from my mother's home in Colorado, where I last saw this thing. I found my mother's whistle.
It is a whistle like a coach would use. A good quality whistle on one of those macrame lanyards. One of those lanyards made out of those thin plastic strips that we all worked on in Girl Scout summer camp & never finished...Well, when my mother was a teenager she was a councillor at just such a camp. She must have worn it around her neck, to whistle to her young Scouts. To keep them in line.
My mother kept it all of her life. Does that mean she placed a high value upon it? Or did it just live in her junk drawer, unnoticed...
There my mother's whistle was, inexplicably in my hand. But I must have had a feeling it was there in my jewelry box, because I was looking for a whistle at the time. My older son was beginning to help train sailors in racing techniques & wanted a whistle to blow to start their races.
So, I took it off the macrame lanyard (so he would not lose the lanyard) & gave it to him. "This is your grandmother's whistle." I said. "Cool," he said. & off he went. I was happy to have found him a whistle, but didn't think much of it beyond that.
This past Saturday, I happened to be the Duty Parent at the yacht club while the sailors were sailing. I got to ride in the coaches boat with my son, while he was coaching his sailors. It was great, until the downpour began. Sitting there, I was drenched to the bone, looking out at those poor wet sailors when I heard the whistle behind me. "Three minutes!!" my son shouted.
Then I noticed the whistle again. My mother's whistle! There it is! Out of all the things she left us, out of all the furniture & jewelry, out of all the yard equipment & dishes, out of ALL that stuff, here, today, I know that ONE thing of my mother's is being put to good use. A whistle.
As I thought about this, in the boat, with the rain pouring down, the whistle clenched in my son's teeth, I realized what the date was that day: April 28th. The twelfth anniversary of my mothers death. & my son is on this day using a whistle that bridges him across the years to his grandmother as a teenager, who perhaps clenched this whistle in her teeth this same way, almost 60 years ago.
My mother - whose main worry while she was dying was that her grandchildren would not remember her.
Maybe the whistle was the most valuable thing of all...
Monday, April 30, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Literal Translation
Driving down the road, my younger son is looking at the signs along the way:
"'Party Rentals'? I didn't know you could rent a whole party!"
Hmmm...good idea...
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"'Party Rentals'? I didn't know you could rent a whole party!"
Hmmm...good idea...
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Whole Party Rentals
-for all your party needs!
You know the feeling - you want to have a party but there is so much to worry about:
- Will your guests enjoy themselves?
- Will you have enough food & drinks?
- Will anyone even come?
Here at Whole Party Rentals, we say,
"Leave the worrying to us!"
We have several party packages to choose from:
- Sports Party - Does your husband look lonely sitting on the couch watching football? Why not make it a PARTY?! The Sports Party Package* includes the following:
- Six big beefy sports guys (wearing the team jersey of your choice) will be sent to your address for the big game! They will be guaranteed to scream & yell along with your husband in support of his team!
- When our sports guys are not screaming & yelling, they will be sprawled all over your sofa, eating chips & dip & mashing the crumbs into your cushions! They will be drinking & spilling beer, crushing the empties on their foreheads (aluminium cans recommended), peeing all over your bathroom & belching with abandon!
- * It is recommended to purchase along with the Sports Party Package the additional Coverage of "Damage to Furniture & Electronics" (not included). See our Rates Sheet for details.
- Office Cocktail Party - Are you currently working out of your home but missing that office camaraderie? In our Office Cocktail Party package, we will include 12 to 15 accountants (or other white-collar profession of your choice):
- The office people will arrive at your location of choice straight from work & proceed to get tipsy & out of hand. They will talk about their jobs & bosses while waving around their half-finished martini's. They may resort to karaoke, in which case we will ensure that none of the singers sing better than YOU!
- As a special bonus, we will include one Sleazie Secretary & one Life of the Party in your package:
- Sleazie Secretary will be wearing a colored bra underneath her see-through white blouse & she will flirt with you all evening (male secretaries available upon request).
- Life of the Party will come equipped with jokes, amusing trivia & office gossip. He or she may go so far as to start a line dance, so space is a consideration.
- Child's Birthday Party - Don't have children & want to see what you are missing? Our Child's Birthday Party is the package for you!
- Twelve grubby, sticky & bratty children will be sent to your door!
- Among these children will be included a mixture of the following:
- Spoiled Brat
- Whiner
- Runny Nose
- Screamer
- Crier
- & everybodies favorite - Vomiter!
- They will run through your house, trailing their chocolate-frostinged hands over your furnishings & walls.
- At least one child will break something valuable.
- If you have a pet, it will be tormented mercilessly.
- We guarantee that we will pick them all up later than stated in our contract, just to allow you the 'true' experience of parents that refuse to claim their children on time.
These are just a few of our packages. Read on for Testimonials from Real Customers:
"The Child's Birthday Party was quite an experience! When my wife started talking about having a baby I called Whole Party Rentals! Now my wife has decided we should wait a few years! Thank you, Whole Party Rentals!!"
Ron; Concord, CA
Ron; Concord, CA
"After moving to a rural office, I sure was missing the office parties we used to have at my old company. Then I heard about Whole Party Rentals & rented the Office Cocktail Party package. Our venue was an upscale bar, soon my Life of the Party had the place in a Conga Line & Sleazie Secretary was dancing on the table swinging his tie like a lasso! It was a blast!"
JeriLyn; Littletown, OH
"My husband used to be so calm & sedate while watching the game on TV. Sometimes he would even fall asleep! I called up Whole Party Rentals & had them send me the Sports Package - after that Saturdays at our house have never been the same! My husband is much more lively! Take our advice & get the additional Coverage - you won't be sorry!"
Bev & Derek; Alamogordo, NM
Whole Party Rentals
-for all your party needs!
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Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Time Won't Wait - I Won't Either!
time (n):
a. ...A continuum in which events occur in ... succession from the past through the present to the future.
b. An interval separating two points on this continuum; a duration
c. A number, as of years, days, or minutes, representing such an interval
d. A similar number representing a specific point on this continuum, reckoned in hours and minutes
'Time, time, time
never ask
what's become of it...'*
* Heart: "Soul of the Sea"
Back in the cave man days, I don't imagine people worried about time that much, beyond day & night, or the seasons. It's not like those men were scheduling their life so minutely, "Okay, Dirk, meet me & Bron behind the cave at 12:15 sharp to hunt the saber tooth tiger!"
'Course, odds are that Dirk & Bron & the other guy lived in the same cave, so when it was time for hunting the saber tooth, the other guy could just wander over to get Dirk & Bron & who cares what time it was, really? Time to eat, that's what time!
It only got tricky when Dirk moved to a cave further down the mountain range. Now, the saber tooth hunt had to be scheduled. Now, Dirk & Bron & the other guy (okay, fine, give the guy a name - Kurk). Sorry. Now, Dirk & Bron & Kurk had to plan: "Okay, we meet tomorrow at the tallest fir tree when the sun hits the face of the cliff."
Three guys, well, that probably still works out. Until one day, when Dirk has to drop his little cave kids at the day care first & gets sidetracked helping the cute day care woman skin a wolverine. Or Bron decides at the last minute that he has to check his rabbit snares. Where does that leave poor Kurk? Waiting, all alone under the tallest fir tree, wasting HIS time, because of the thoughtless behavior of two other people! It's not like Kurk didn't have anything else HE could be doing, right? And, whenever those two louts decide to show up, they will have all kinds of justifications - "Well, the sun doesn't hit the face of the cliff at the same time at MY cave!", or "What's the problem, Kurk, we're here NOW!"
So, move ahead several thousand years & someone says, hey, the people are all spread out. The tallest fir tree isn't cutting it any more. Bring in the pocket watch!
A watch. A way to measure time. A way to schedule & plan! A way for Kurt to know exactly how long he has been kept waiting for Dave, who is at the day care, or Bruce, who is at the butcher's. Now, instead of Kurt wondering if he is early, he can see exactly what time it is. And how, with every passing visible minute, Kurt can escalate his degree of pissed-off-ness accordingly. "Where have you two been? I have been waiting here in the plaza for half an hour!" Kurt will point agitatedly at his watch. "See my watch?" Kurt will have the satisfaction of physical proof when he accosts Dave & Bruce about their tardiness.
Like that'll matter. Dave will whine, "Oh, I don't have a watch." & Bruce will say, "Oops! Look there, I forgot to wind it!" & poor Kurt stands there, stuck again, listening to other people's excuses, wasting away the minutes & hours of his life, waiting around for other people who can't get their shit together.
(Sorry about the shit, but sometimes a swear word just really works!)
Why should this be? Why should the one guy who is doing what he said he would do be punished, for being ON TIME, while the other two guys just stroll into the plaza whenever they feel like it?
I think it's a kind of power play by Dave, as in, "See there, I, Dave, am more important than you, Kurt!. That is why you must wait for me!" As far as Bruce is concerned, it's more of a habit. "Why should I hurry?" Bruce thinks, "After all, no matter how late I am that dupe Kurt will still be waiting there!"
I guess it's no secret where my sympathies lie.
time (n):
...A continuum in which events occur ... when you (& no one else!) decide that they should occur!
You are free!!!
a. ...A continuum in which events occur in ... succession from the past through the present to the future.
b. An interval separating two points on this continuum; a duration
c. A number, as of years, days, or minutes, representing such an interval
d. A similar number representing a specific point on this continuum, reckoned in hours and minutes
'Time, time, time
never ask
what's become of it...'*
* Heart: "Soul of the Sea"
Back in the cave man days, I don't imagine people worried about time that much, beyond day & night, or the seasons. It's not like those men were scheduling their life so minutely, "Okay, Dirk, meet me & Bron behind the cave at 12:15 sharp to hunt the saber tooth tiger!"
'Course, odds are that Dirk & Bron & the other guy lived in the same cave, so when it was time for hunting the saber tooth, the other guy could just wander over to get Dirk & Bron & who cares what time it was, really? Time to eat, that's what time!
It only got tricky when Dirk moved to a cave further down the mountain range. Now, the saber tooth hunt had to be scheduled. Now, Dirk & Bron & the other guy (okay, fine, give the guy a name - Kurk). Sorry. Now, Dirk & Bron & Kurk had to plan: "Okay, we meet tomorrow at the tallest fir tree when the sun hits the face of the cliff."
Three guys, well, that probably still works out. Until one day, when Dirk has to drop his little cave kids at the day care first & gets sidetracked helping the cute day care woman skin a wolverine. Or Bron decides at the last minute that he has to check his rabbit snares. Where does that leave poor Kurk? Waiting, all alone under the tallest fir tree, wasting HIS time, because of the thoughtless behavior of two other people! It's not like Kurk didn't have anything else HE could be doing, right? And, whenever those two louts decide to show up, they will have all kinds of justifications - "Well, the sun doesn't hit the face of the cliff at the same time at MY cave!", or "What's the problem, Kurk, we're here NOW!"
So, move ahead several thousand years & someone says, hey, the people are all spread out. The tallest fir tree isn't cutting it any more. Bring in the pocket watch!
A watch. A way to measure time. A way to schedule & plan! A way for Kurt to know exactly how long he has been kept waiting for Dave, who is at the day care, or Bruce, who is at the butcher's. Now, instead of Kurt wondering if he is early, he can see exactly what time it is. And how, with every passing visible minute, Kurt can escalate his degree of pissed-off-ness accordingly. "Where have you two been? I have been waiting here in the plaza for half an hour!" Kurt will point agitatedly at his watch. "See my watch?" Kurt will have the satisfaction of physical proof when he accosts Dave & Bruce about their tardiness.
Like that'll matter. Dave will whine, "Oh, I don't have a watch." & Bruce will say, "Oops! Look there, I forgot to wind it!" & poor Kurt stands there, stuck again, listening to other people's excuses, wasting away the minutes & hours of his life, waiting around for other people who can't get their shit together.
(Sorry about the shit, but sometimes a swear word just really works!)
Why should this be? Why should the one guy who is doing what he said he would do be punished, for being ON TIME, while the other two guys just stroll into the plaza whenever they feel like it?
I think it's a kind of power play by Dave, as in, "See there, I, Dave, am more important than you, Kurt!. That is why you must wait for me!" As far as Bruce is concerned, it's more of a habit. "Why should I hurry?" Bruce thinks, "After all, no matter how late I am that dupe Kurt will still be waiting there!"
I say it's time for the WAIT-ERS of the world to schedule & plan an uprising! (synchronise our watches, so to speak) Kurt, wait in the plaza no longer! Go live your life! Reclaim all those future lost minutes for your own!
As for you, Kurk, you just tell Dirk & Bron to go hunt that saber tooth tiger by themselves & see how they like that. You can use your new-found time to see if that cute day care woman has any more wolverine skins that she needs help with!
time (n):
...A continuum in which events occur ... when you (& no one else!) decide that they should occur!
You are free!!!
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Over Brushing
I have figured out who should be put in charge of running the world.
Well, next after me, of course.
That's seven different toothbrushes (& that's only a few of their offerings)! I can see it now - I would have to have something like one of those shoe-hanger pouches for them all. & every day I could ponder, "Hmm, should I have a gentle clean this morning, or deal out some cavity defense, or perhaps just a contour clean?"
What the heck is a 'Contour Clean', anyway?. Or what about the 'Advanced Complete Whole Mouth Clean'? Does that mean their other toothbrushes are only cleaning, say, half your mouth?
Oral-B, I read, is currently the leader in the war for our toothbrush dollars. Their website is not particularly thrilling, tho. & while they are going all out with new designs, who's the boring guy naming them? I mean, doesn't this guy watch any video games? (Okay, he was getting a little frisky with '3D White Advanced'.) If I were to make some additions to spice up their toothbrush line & maybe attract the younger generation, I might add:
Now the brand Reach, on the other hand...
I give Reach a better grade on their toothbrush names as well:
Seven for them as well! I better get the extra-large shoe pouch.
My favorite name of all, tho, is from Colgate. It is the Colgate Navigator! I imagine I just need to lie the brush & paste in my mouth & these little men that live in the handle are poised over a compass while the Captain shouts orders to his First Officer, "Okay, take the bristles due north - let's get this party started!"
I may be poking some fun at these toothbrush designers, but I really do mean it when I say I admire their perseverance. (How exciting can it be to head off to work each morning, "Goodbye honey, I'm off to the office to try to make a several hundred year old invention look new again...").
What caused me to think about toothbrushes today was the latest advertisement for a brush from Oral-B: Pro-Health Clinical Pro-Flex Toothbrush. Hey! Kudos for getting not one but two hyphens in the name! I imagine this one must have a larger package as well...
This brush has a split in the middle of it so that the two rows of bristles can move to '...adjust to the unique contours of your teeth...'. Wow!
Do you see what I mean? These toothbrush designers never quit. I think we should put them in charge of everything!
Except for the naming of things. I think I'll submit my application for that job.
Well, next after me, of course.
Toothbrush designers!
I mean really, you have to hand it to toothbrush designers - they have their work cut out for them. I'm talking about the old-fashioned do-it-yourself kind - good old manual toothbrushes. It's not like these people are designing cars, or ipods, where customers are going to line up to get the newest one. Yet still, year after year, those guys just don't give up! For example, Oral-B has specialized toothbrushes, & depending on the one you buy, it will give you:- A Gentle Clean
- A 3D White Advanced Vivid Clean (comes with 3D glasses!)
- An Advanced Complete Whole Mouth Clean (the name is so long they had to spend extra money on a larger package)
- A Complete Deep Clean
- A Contour Clean
- A Scope-scented Clean
- A Cavity Defense Clean
That's seven different toothbrushes (& that's only a few of their offerings)! I can see it now - I would have to have something like one of those shoe-hanger pouches for them all. & every day I could ponder, "Hmm, should I have a gentle clean this morning, or deal out some cavity defense, or perhaps just a contour clean?"
What the heck is a 'Contour Clean', anyway?. Or what about the 'Advanced Complete Whole Mouth Clean'? Does that mean their other toothbrushes are only cleaning, say, half your mouth?
Oral-B, I read, is currently the leader in the war for our toothbrush dollars. Their website is not particularly thrilling, tho. & while they are going all out with new designs, who's the boring guy naming them? I mean, doesn't this guy watch any video games? (Okay, he was getting a little frisky with '3D White Advanced'.) If I were to make some additions to spice up their toothbrush line & maybe attract the younger generation, I might add:
- Cavity Annihilator!
- Gingivitis Grenade!
- Plaque Plasma-Launcher!
- Dentist-Away Destructor!
Now the brand Reach, on the other hand...
Reach wants to be my
oral care partner!
Really! It says so right on their website, which, by the way is sleek & modern-looking. While you may think that I have been a little over-enthusiastic in my toothbrush naming above, Reach seems ready to embrace it. They toot their horn admirably. Their site says '...there's a reason Reach products look...different from the others...'. Well, don't get too excited Reach, they still do look like toothbrushes, after all!oral care partner!
I give Reach a better grade on their toothbrush names as well:
- Total Care Multi-Action
- Total Care + Massage (this one comes with potpourri & a New Age music CD)
- Total Care + Whitening
- Total Care Floss Clean (those must be some really long bristles!)
- Crystal Clean
- Advanced Design
- by Design (my personal favorite, somehow subtly upscale)
Seven for them as well! I better get the extra-large shoe pouch.
My favorite name of all, tho, is from Colgate. It is the Colgate Navigator! I imagine I just need to lie the brush & paste in my mouth & these little men that live in the handle are poised over a compass while the Captain shouts orders to his First Officer, "Okay, take the bristles due north - let's get this party started!"
I may be poking some fun at these toothbrush designers, but I really do mean it when I say I admire their perseverance. (How exciting can it be to head off to work each morning, "Goodbye honey, I'm off to the office to try to make a several hundred year old invention look new again...").
What caused me to think about toothbrushes today was the latest advertisement for a brush from Oral-B: Pro-Health Clinical Pro-Flex Toothbrush. Hey! Kudos for getting not one but two hyphens in the name! I imagine this one must have a larger package as well...
This brush has a split in the middle of it so that the two rows of bristles can move to '...adjust to the unique contours of your teeth...'. Wow!
Do you see what I mean? These toothbrush designers never quit. I think we should put them in charge of everything!
Except for the naming of things. I think I'll submit my application for that job.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Miss Understanding
At the drugstore, the clerk asked me if I was getting thru. I said yes, which just proves that some small bits of the local vernacular are 'getting thru' to me.
Of course, the first couple times I was asked this question by a store clerk, I got the answer wrong. In this country, "Are you getting thru?" really means, for any of you non-Caribbean people out there, "Are you finding everything you need?". & even if you have just begun filling your cart with a long list of items, the answer to that question is still yes, I am getting thru.
But, like I said, the first time I got this question it was like this:
Clerk: "Are you getting thru, Miss?"
Me: "No, not yet."
& I am thinking to myself, jeez, I just walked into this store & this woman is already wondering if I am finished! Can't she see my cart is empty?
Now, since I have said "no", the clerk is waiting expectantly by my side to hear what help I need.
Meanwhile, I am thinking, what, is this woman going to stand next to me the whole time I am shopping? So I say, "That's okay, you don't have to stand here - I'll let you know if I need anything."
& now the poor clerk is probably thinking, this woman first said she was not getting thru, so I wait to see what I can do for her & then she sends me away. Must be a tourist! They never know what they want!
But, then you learn the lingo. Slowly. If you are paying attention. & you fit right in!
Well...
Of course, the first couple times I was asked this question by a store clerk, I got the answer wrong. In this country, "Are you getting thru?" really means, for any of you non-Caribbean people out there, "Are you finding everything you need?". & even if you have just begun filling your cart with a long list of items, the answer to that question is still yes, I am getting thru.
But, like I said, the first time I got this question it was like this:
Clerk: "Are you getting thru, Miss?"
Me: "No, not yet."
& I am thinking to myself, jeez, I just walked into this store & this woman is already wondering if I am finished! Can't she see my cart is empty?
Now, since I have said "no", the clerk is waiting expectantly by my side to hear what help I need.
Meanwhile, I am thinking, what, is this woman going to stand next to me the whole time I am shopping? So I say, "That's okay, you don't have to stand here - I'll let you know if I need anything."
& now the poor clerk is probably thinking, this woman first said she was not getting thru, so I wait to see what I can do for her & then she sends me away. Must be a tourist! They never know what they want!
But, then you learn the lingo. Slowly. If you are paying attention. & you fit right in!
Well...
Monday, April 16, 2012
What I Do for Love
Long ago, sometime around the end of 1994, I met my husband for the first time. He was in my office. I was taking his picture. That was my job. No, I did not work for a magazine with a brown cover, I was making his crew I.D. as he was just signing on to work on the ship I was on, the SS Seabreeze.
I cannot say that I knew at that moment that we would end up together, but I did look past my camera into his beautiful hazel eyes & think, maybe...
Little did I know that he was also looking into my eyes, & somewhere, deep in my brown eyes he must have seen something. Something that said to him, "One day we will be together & then, ever after, I will have someone to run all my stupid errands!"
This wifely duty of mine did not bother me until recently, due mainly to the fact that we only have one car. My husband is the breadwinner. Therefore, I am the chauffeur, since, besides my husband, I have the two teenage boys to haul around, I get the car. All things that involve transportation are now my department. Believe me, I do not consider it an honor.
One car does make sense for us here on this island. Used cars are extremely expensive for what you get & the prices of new cars sound more like prices of condominiums. Anyhow, I am not working & the boys school is right next to my husbands job, so one car works for us. Or, should I say, one car works for most of us.
The problem with my not having a job is that I believe my husband assumes that I am available to hop in the car & drive off to wherever, to buy whatever, whenever it occurs to him to request it. I am thinking that he thinks of me at these times like a vacuum cleaner - a handy appliance, but most of the time standing idle & unplugged, just waiting for a masterly hand to provide it with some direction.
My husband is a chef at a resort, & at this type of resort there are often strange & unusual requests from guests that my husband is called upon to fulfill. Being the kind of resort that it is, they go above & beyond the call of duty to please those guests. What causes me to consider that the resort is going "above & beyond the call of duty" is when I have to become involved.
"Helen," my husband will ring me on the phone, "Can you go to the store & get me (for example):
- Styrofoam containers
- gluten free pasta
- kosher anything
- Belgian endive
- kiwi's
- Bounty Paper Towels
- Pink grapefruit juice
& worst of all, oxtail!" (I asked him what I should do with the rest of the ox, but he told me the tail would come by itself, phew!)
So, when I am at home on a Monday morning, after a 5k walk/jog on the treadmill & I haven't bothered to shower as I like to mop on Mondays, so there I am, sweaty, disgusting in my gym clothes, surveying my partially mopped floor, you can imagine that when my phone rings & I see that it's my husband, I do cringe a little. Odds are he is not calling to tell me he misses me...
"Helen, you know those platters with lids?"
"Y-e-s-s-s?"
"Do you think they have them at Progressive?"
"No, I don't." Progressive is a grocery store less than a mile away, not too far a trip, if I can't get out of it.
"What about Fontana?"
You know, I will complain about anything that inconveniences me, as that is the selfish kind of person that I am, but in the case of a real emergency, when someone is really in a bind, I would like to think I would rise to the occasion. But this doesn't sound like an emergency. First off, I don't hear that desperate edge to my husbands voice - in fact, he is chewing! So, whatever the reason we are talking about platters with lids, the situation doesn't seem to have affected his appetite. I mean, you have to feel pretty laid back to be chewing on the phone! & Fontana is way the heck in town, which is at least an hour round trip. Worse, all four of us were just in town yesterday - why couldn't we have looked for platters with lids then?
Of course, while watching the floor dry & tucking my sweaty hair behind my ears, I said as much. Several times.
(Meanwhile, remember, my husband is on the other end of the phone picturing me standing idle & unplugged by the wall, purse & keys in hand, just waiting for that masterly direction we talked about. Knowing that this is his perspective, you can't really blame the guy.)
So, sensing my inexplicable uncooperativeness & allowing as how he figured I wouldn't help him anyway, my husband swallowed what he was eating (& it was white chocolate - boy, nothing like adding insult to injury!) & hung up rather coolly, the possibility of platters with lids at Fontana remaining unanswered.
Once I met a man on a ship. He had beautiful hazel eyes. I cannot say that I knew at that moment that we would end up together, but I did look into his eyes & think, maybe...maybe it wouldn't be so horrible to run this guys stupid errands for the rest of my life. And the rest is history.
I cannot say that I knew at that moment that we would end up together, but I did look past my camera into his beautiful hazel eyes & think, maybe...
Little did I know that he was also looking into my eyes, & somewhere, deep in my brown eyes he must have seen something. Something that said to him, "One day we will be together & then, ever after, I will have someone to run all my stupid errands!"
This wifely duty of mine did not bother me until recently, due mainly to the fact that we only have one car. My husband is the breadwinner. Therefore, I am the chauffeur, since, besides my husband, I have the two teenage boys to haul around, I get the car. All things that involve transportation are now my department. Believe me, I do not consider it an honor.
One car does make sense for us here on this island. Used cars are extremely expensive for what you get & the prices of new cars sound more like prices of condominiums. Anyhow, I am not working & the boys school is right next to my husbands job, so one car works for us. Or, should I say, one car works for most of us.
The problem with my not having a job is that I believe my husband assumes that I am available to hop in the car & drive off to wherever, to buy whatever, whenever it occurs to him to request it. I am thinking that he thinks of me at these times like a vacuum cleaner - a handy appliance, but most of the time standing idle & unplugged, just waiting for a masterly hand to provide it with some direction.
My husband is a chef at a resort, & at this type of resort there are often strange & unusual requests from guests that my husband is called upon to fulfill. Being the kind of resort that it is, they go above & beyond the call of duty to please those guests. What causes me to consider that the resort is going "above & beyond the call of duty" is when I have to become involved.
"Helen," my husband will ring me on the phone, "Can you go to the store & get me (for example):
- Styrofoam containers
- gluten free pasta
- kosher anything
- Belgian endive
- kiwi's
- Bounty Paper Towels
- Pink grapefruit juice
& worst of all, oxtail!" (I asked him what I should do with the rest of the ox, but he told me the tail would come by itself, phew!)
So, when I am at home on a Monday morning, after a 5k walk/jog on the treadmill & I haven't bothered to shower as I like to mop on Mondays, so there I am, sweaty, disgusting in my gym clothes, surveying my partially mopped floor, you can imagine that when my phone rings & I see that it's my husband, I do cringe a little. Odds are he is not calling to tell me he misses me...
"Helen, you know those platters with lids?"
"Y-e-s-s-s?"
"Do you think they have them at Progressive?"
"No, I don't." Progressive is a grocery store less than a mile away, not too far a trip, if I can't get out of it.
"What about Fontana?"
You know, I will complain about anything that inconveniences me, as that is the selfish kind of person that I am, but in the case of a real emergency, when someone is really in a bind, I would like to think I would rise to the occasion. But this doesn't sound like an emergency. First off, I don't hear that desperate edge to my husbands voice - in fact, he is chewing! So, whatever the reason we are talking about platters with lids, the situation doesn't seem to have affected his appetite. I mean, you have to feel pretty laid back to be chewing on the phone! & Fontana is way the heck in town, which is at least an hour round trip. Worse, all four of us were just in town yesterday - why couldn't we have looked for platters with lids then?
Of course, while watching the floor dry & tucking my sweaty hair behind my ears, I said as much. Several times.
(Meanwhile, remember, my husband is on the other end of the phone picturing me standing idle & unplugged by the wall, purse & keys in hand, just waiting for that masterly direction we talked about. Knowing that this is his perspective, you can't really blame the guy.)
So, sensing my inexplicable uncooperativeness & allowing as how he figured I wouldn't help him anyway, my husband swallowed what he was eating (& it was white chocolate - boy, nothing like adding insult to injury!) & hung up rather coolly, the possibility of platters with lids at Fontana remaining unanswered.
Once I met a man on a ship. He had beautiful hazel eyes. I cannot say that I knew at that moment that we would end up together, but I did look into his eyes & think, maybe...maybe it wouldn't be so horrible to run this guys stupid errands for the rest of my life. And the rest is history.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Tales my Children will Tell...
"Look, Richard, little Ricky's about ready for a new com-plant. I do believe he is growing out of his baby one!" Jenny grabbed 3 year old Rickie & hugged him to herself. "What a big boy you are getting to be!"
"He sure is!" exclaimed his father, Richard. "You'd better make him an appointment at the Facility this week." Ricky jumped down from his mothers lap & toddled off to play.
"The Facility!" this from 12 year old Leslie, "Won't it hurt him when they-"
"SSHHHH!" both her parents cautioned, looking after Ricky, "Why would you say that, Leslie? You probably don't even remember when we took you to the Verizasoft Facility to have your toddler com-plant exchanged for the one you have now." her mother pointed out.
"Yeah, but the kids all say-"
"Don't believe those kids," said Richard, "They are just trying to scare you. They give you some anesthesia so you don't feel a thing. Besides, you wouldn't want to be without your com-plant, would you?"
"No way!" Leslie & her mother shuddered, "How would you live?!" Jenny wondered.
In the corner of the living room a very old man stirred. He was called Grandfather Longbeard & was Richard's grandfather. He had been alive for longer than most people, born at the end of the 20th century. He spoke to his Tempur-Pedic chair & it promptly changed positions to sit him upright & then Grandfather Longbeard peered out from under his bushy brows, waggling them.
"You kids have it easy! Back when I was a boy, things were a lot different!" Grandfather pounded the arms of his chair with gusto. "Nobody had com-plants back then, I'll tell you!"
Jenny eyed Richard & whispered, "Now he's going to go off into one of his never ending rants about those archaic smartphones of yesteryear."
"I like to hear Grandfathers stories!" said Leslie, who didn't know any better. She got up & went to sit next to Grandfather Longbeard. "Tell me, Grandfather, how did you communicate with the world if you didn't have a com-plant?"
"When I was a boy, I had something called a Blackberry."
"You mean like the fruit?"
"Just the name, little lady, just the name," Grandfather chuckled. "It was a big & bulky thing - 'bout as big as the palm of my hand!"
"Wow - that IS big! How did they insert it under your skin?" Leslie asked, with saucer eyes.
"No, no, they didn't attach the Blackberry's to us. Not everybody had the same kind either - some kids had something called the iphone. We had to carry our devices around with us in our pockets. Tho I remember my mother, (she would be your great, great grandmother Helen, I believe), she was always telling me to 'put that thing down!' She didn't have one, see-"
"She didn't have a communication device at all?" Leslie demanded.
"Well, she sure could yell - I guess that counts!" Grandfather Longbeard roared & slapped his knee.
"Now, Grandfather," Richard spoke up, "We know they had devices called 'cellphones' even back in the 1990's. Your mother HAD to have had one. You are teasing Leslie!"
Grandfather bristled & gave 40 year old Richard a 'that's-enough-out-of-you,-little-boy' look. "You may think I am telling stories, but there are worse things than that! All true, I might add."
"Well, you'll have to excuse me while I get dinner started." Jenny said. She stepped over by the window to be polite & began speaking to her com-plant, which was inserted under the skin on the back of her hand. In the kitchen, some appliances made their grumbles of awakening.
"Worse!" Leslie bounced up & down. "What could be worse, Grandfather?!"
"Well, in my day, we had to go outside to get to school. We didn't just lounge around at home watching School-Vee!"
"Outside! Where is-" Leslie knitted her brows.
"He means beyond the glass." Richard pointed to the window.
"You've - you've BEEN out there?" Leslie was incredulous. "What about the diseases!?"
"Remember your studies, Leslie - you've learned all this. The bio-war did not occur until the 2040's." Richard exchanged a glance with his grandfather. "Those were some hard times for everyone, as we all know."
"That's true, sonny." Grandfather agreed. "But those times came later. What I am about to tell you happened during my boyhood - & nothing can compare with the horrors that took place back then - not even war!"
There was a pregnant silence. Then Leslie asked, in a hushed voice, "What, Grandfather, what then?" She scooted closer to her father.
"It had to do with the internet!" Grandfather exclaimed.
"The internet?" Leslie's jaw dropped. "You mean the very heart of the Facility itself?"
"Right, lassie, your online connection. Things didn't used to run as smoothly as they do now, oh no!"
Like a child watching a scary movie, Leslie wrapped a blanket around herself like a cocoon. "Oh, no?"
Jenny entered the room in time to hear this last exchange. Quickly she gave Richard a Look & said quietly, "Don't you think she is a little young to be hearing about this? I don't want her to have nightmares!"
Richard shot a glance at Leslie, "No, I think she's old enough, Jenny. We can't shelter her forever! Go ahead, Grandfather Longbeard." Jenny took a seat on Leslie's other side.
"The internet, then." Grandfather Longbeard leaned forward, his eyes misting over with recollection. "In the beginning there was what they called a 'dial-up' connection. People who had 'dial-up' had to wait for up to 25 minutes just to download a three minute bit of music."
Leslie was horrified. "25 minutes! You must be joking!"
"No, it's true," Grandfather reached across & patted Leslie's knee. "I heard it from my own mother. She experienced it herself."
"Oh, my God!" Jenny gasped & wrapped her arms around the blanketed Leslie, "To think someone in our own family had to go thru that!" Both Jenny & Leslie's eyes filled with tears.
"Now, now, girls - that's all in the past, all gone, all forgotten. The people who survived that unspeakable ordeal are mostly dead & burned by now." comforted Richard, "Right, Grandfather?"
"True, true enough." Grandfather shook his head, "Besides, remember, ladies, my mother & the other people of her generation did not know any better. It was all new to them. They were grateful for what they had, I'll tell you! After all, that wasn't the worst of it-"
"Now, Grandfather, I think Leslie has had enough for today..." said Richard.
"No!" said Leslie, "No, Dad! I am willing to hear the rest. I am almost a woman. Plus, I have you and Mom here by my side. I will be all right..."
"Okay, then, Grandfather, go ahead & tell her." Richard sat back, resigned.
"Well, it's a good thing you ladies are sitting down for this part." Grandfather noted that Leslie was clasping her mothers hand until her knuckles were white, preparing herself for this last final outrage.
"Sometimes," Grandfather Longbeard took a trembling & suspenseful breath, "Sometimes the internet connection actually ... dropped!"
As Richard carried Leslie, who had fainted, to her bedroom, while her mother Jenny ran to fetch Leslie a glass of water, Grandfather Longbeard adjusted his chair.
"Kids these days!" he said to himself, "They don't know how lucky they are!"
"He sure is!" exclaimed his father, Richard. "You'd better make him an appointment at the Facility this week." Ricky jumped down from his mothers lap & toddled off to play.
"The Facility!" this from 12 year old Leslie, "Won't it hurt him when they-"
"SSHHHH!" both her parents cautioned, looking after Ricky, "Why would you say that, Leslie? You probably don't even remember when we took you to the Verizasoft Facility to have your toddler com-plant exchanged for the one you have now." her mother pointed out.
"Yeah, but the kids all say-"
"Don't believe those kids," said Richard, "They are just trying to scare you. They give you some anesthesia so you don't feel a thing. Besides, you wouldn't want to be without your com-plant, would you?"
"No way!" Leslie & her mother shuddered, "How would you live?!" Jenny wondered.
In the corner of the living room a very old man stirred. He was called Grandfather Longbeard & was Richard's grandfather. He had been alive for longer than most people, born at the end of the 20th century. He spoke to his Tempur-Pedic chair & it promptly changed positions to sit him upright & then Grandfather Longbeard peered out from under his bushy brows, waggling them.
"You kids have it easy! Back when I was a boy, things were a lot different!" Grandfather pounded the arms of his chair with gusto. "Nobody had com-plants back then, I'll tell you!"
Jenny eyed Richard & whispered, "Now he's going to go off into one of his never ending rants about those archaic smartphones of yesteryear."
"I like to hear Grandfathers stories!" said Leslie, who didn't know any better. She got up & went to sit next to Grandfather Longbeard. "Tell me, Grandfather, how did you communicate with the world if you didn't have a com-plant?"
"When I was a boy, I had something called a Blackberry."
"You mean like the fruit?"
"Just the name, little lady, just the name," Grandfather chuckled. "It was a big & bulky thing - 'bout as big as the palm of my hand!"
"Wow - that IS big! How did they insert it under your skin?" Leslie asked, with saucer eyes.
"No, no, they didn't attach the Blackberry's to us. Not everybody had the same kind either - some kids had something called the iphone. We had to carry our devices around with us in our pockets. Tho I remember my mother, (she would be your great, great grandmother Helen, I believe), she was always telling me to 'put that thing down!' She didn't have one, see-"
"She didn't have a communication device at all?" Leslie demanded.
"Well, she sure could yell - I guess that counts!" Grandfather Longbeard roared & slapped his knee.
"Now, Grandfather," Richard spoke up, "We know they had devices called 'cellphones' even back in the 1990's. Your mother HAD to have had one. You are teasing Leslie!"
Grandfather bristled & gave 40 year old Richard a 'that's-enough-out-of-you,-little-boy' look. "You may think I am telling stories, but there are worse things than that! All true, I might add."
"Well, you'll have to excuse me while I get dinner started." Jenny said. She stepped over by the window to be polite & began speaking to her com-plant, which was inserted under the skin on the back of her hand. In the kitchen, some appliances made their grumbles of awakening.
"Worse!" Leslie bounced up & down. "What could be worse, Grandfather?!"
"Well, in my day, we had to go outside to get to school. We didn't just lounge around at home watching School-Vee!"
"Outside! Where is-" Leslie knitted her brows.
"He means beyond the glass." Richard pointed to the window.
"You've - you've BEEN out there?" Leslie was incredulous. "What about the diseases!?"
"Remember your studies, Leslie - you've learned all this. The bio-war did not occur until the 2040's." Richard exchanged a glance with his grandfather. "Those were some hard times for everyone, as we all know."
"That's true, sonny." Grandfather agreed. "But those times came later. What I am about to tell you happened during my boyhood - & nothing can compare with the horrors that took place back then - not even war!"
There was a pregnant silence. Then Leslie asked, in a hushed voice, "What, Grandfather, what then?" She scooted closer to her father.
"It had to do with the internet!" Grandfather exclaimed.
"The internet?" Leslie's jaw dropped. "You mean the very heart of the Facility itself?"
"Right, lassie, your online connection. Things didn't used to run as smoothly as they do now, oh no!"
Like a child watching a scary movie, Leslie wrapped a blanket around herself like a cocoon. "Oh, no?"
Jenny entered the room in time to hear this last exchange. Quickly she gave Richard a Look & said quietly, "Don't you think she is a little young to be hearing about this? I don't want her to have nightmares!"
Richard shot a glance at Leslie, "No, I think she's old enough, Jenny. We can't shelter her forever! Go ahead, Grandfather Longbeard." Jenny took a seat on Leslie's other side.
"The internet, then." Grandfather Longbeard leaned forward, his eyes misting over with recollection. "In the beginning there was what they called a 'dial-up' connection. People who had 'dial-up' had to wait for up to 25 minutes just to download a three minute bit of music."
Leslie was horrified. "25 minutes! You must be joking!"
"No, it's true," Grandfather reached across & patted Leslie's knee. "I heard it from my own mother. She experienced it herself."
"Oh, my God!" Jenny gasped & wrapped her arms around the blanketed Leslie, "To think someone in our own family had to go thru that!" Both Jenny & Leslie's eyes filled with tears.
"Now, now, girls - that's all in the past, all gone, all forgotten. The people who survived that unspeakable ordeal are mostly dead & burned by now." comforted Richard, "Right, Grandfather?"
"True, true enough." Grandfather shook his head, "Besides, remember, ladies, my mother & the other people of her generation did not know any better. It was all new to them. They were grateful for what they had, I'll tell you! After all, that wasn't the worst of it-"
"Now, Grandfather, I think Leslie has had enough for today..." said Richard.
"No!" said Leslie, "No, Dad! I am willing to hear the rest. I am almost a woman. Plus, I have you and Mom here by my side. I will be all right..."
"Okay, then, Grandfather, go ahead & tell her." Richard sat back, resigned.
"Well, it's a good thing you ladies are sitting down for this part." Grandfather noted that Leslie was clasping her mothers hand until her knuckles were white, preparing herself for this last final outrage.
"Sometimes," Grandfather Longbeard took a trembling & suspenseful breath, "Sometimes the internet connection actually ... dropped!"
As Richard carried Leslie, who had fainted, to her bedroom, while her mother Jenny ran to fetch Leslie a glass of water, Grandfather Longbeard adjusted his chair.
"Kids these days!" he said to himself, "They don't know how lucky they are!"
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Kindergartners: 2 / Teens: 0
Word for Today - Wet!
Tell me boys & girls, can you say "wet"?
Great! Now, what does "wet" mean?
Right, right, very good! What a smart bunch of kindergartners I have here today - wet does mean "not dry". Can you think of some things that are wet?
Yes, the ocean is wet, good Patrick.
Yes, a swimming pool is wet, too, Jody. Outstanding!
Now tell me, Patrick - if you wore your swim suit out in the pool or the ocean, would it be "wet" or "dry"?
Right again - it would be wet. Now class, what do you think your Mommy would tell you to do with that wet swim suit?
Hang it up to dry? Suzie, your mother is a very smart woman! You are a smart girl as well. Tell me, Suzie, would you do what your mother told you & hang your swimming suit up to dry, in some sort of logical place, like say, over the shower door or something like that?
Or, would you instead say to yourself, like a 14 year old I will not name: I have a better plan! What does my mother know anyway? I am going to take my very wet swim suit & I am going to stuff it deep into my drawer full of swim suits, excuse me, let me clarify that, my drawer full of DRY swim suits. The reason I am going to do this is to bypass all of those unnecessary steps - like drying the swim suit, putting it into the laundry to be washed, getting it back when my mom piles my clean & folded clothes on my bed & THEN having to put it away in this very same swim suit drawer anyway! Besides, it will be a while til my mother notices that for some inexplicable reason, all of my swim suits & snorkel shirts smell like clothes rescued from a flood in a very old & moldy house!
No, no, no, Suzie, I am not mad at you! You would NEVER do such a STUPID thing!
I'm sorry, class, I didn't mean to raise my voice & stamp my foot. I apologize.
You are right, Danny, I did say the "S" word. I was upset, but that is certainly NO excuse. I apologize again. Sometimes grown-ups do make mistakes. But let's get back to our lesson.
Okay, back to wet. Christopher, I ask you - if it was raining very hard & your bedroom windows leaked whenever it rained & you had to put a big beach towel under the window to soak up all that pesky rain on your floor, would you think that beach towel would be "wet" or "dry" afterwards?
Excellent, Christopher, wet it is! Now, class, what do you think your Mommy would say you should do with THIS wet towel? Go ahead & shout it out! Everybody!
HANG IT UP TO DRY! Oh my GOODNESS, this is surely a class of future ROCKET SCIENTISTS that I am dealing with here!
So, since you all said "Hang it up to dry!", I take it that none of you would do something like this: instead of hanging the towel up to dry, in some sort of logical place like over the shower door, you would, like a 15 year old I could mention, drag the soaking wet towel ACROSS your bedroom floor (leaving a wet trail), OUT into the living room & leave it there, in a sodden PILE, for no particular reason except that since the wet & dripping towel is no longer in your room it is NOT YOUR PROBLEM?! And when your mother asks you why you did this you say, "Well, I didn't know what else to DO with it!"?!
I'm shouting again? Oh, you're right, Irene, I AM shouting again. No, no, it's not because of YOU, class, you all have been very good! It's just because I am a Mommy, too, like all of your Mommy's...
Your Mommy pulls her hair out too, Michael? Glad to hear it! I am relieved to know I am not the only one!
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Character Flaws
The beautiful Katrina stood on the balcony, pensively watching Sir Robert gallop into the night. She clutched at her chemise anxiously. What would come of Sir Roberts encounter with the Vile Barnabus? Would he be able to avenge the untimely death of Katrina's father & reinstate her family to the nobility as Sir Robert had intended? What would be in store for Katrina if Sir Robert failed in his task? All Katrina could do now was wait. She turned-
"Excuse me? Hello up there?" Katrina backed away from the edge of the balcony & gazed up into the cloudy mists.
"Are you speaking to me, Katrina?" I asked with some trepidation. After all, I was not in the habit of conversing with characters in my stories.
"Yes!" she exclaimed.
"Well, what do you want?" I wondered aloud.
"What is this - 'all Katrina could do now was wait'. That's a load of crap. What kind of helpless female are you trying to make me into - some sort of wishy-washy, I-need-a-man-to-save-me type of mealy-mouthed woman? I mean really! Why not give me an AK47 & let me go after that Vile Barnabus. I would have my vengeance upon him on MY terms!"
"AK47? Hardly. You're at least a hundred years off - this novel is set in the 1800's. I can't compromise the accuracy of the period just because you don't like the story...but maybe we can work something out."
Katrina stood on the balcony, watching Sir Robert gallop into the night. She clutched at her chemise nervously. What if Sir Robert realized that Katrina had sent him away on false pretenses so that she could deal with the Vile Barnabus herself? Would Katrina be able to avenge the untimely death of her father & find the proof that would reinstate her family to the nobility as Sir Robert had intended? Could she do all this before Sir Robert returned from Walmart? What would be-
"Katrina!"
"What?" her eyes slid away guiltily.
"Walmart? There is no Walmart in 19th century England!"
"Well, I needed to send Sir Robert away for a long time. Everyone knows that people get lost for days in those Super Walmarts! I need time to find the Vile Barnabus AND devise a plan to dispose of him!"
"Fine! I'll work on it! But no Walmarts!!!"
Would Katrina be able to avenge the untimely death of her father & find the proof that would reinstate her family to the nobility as Sir Robert had intended? Could she do all this before Sir Robert returned from Target? What would be-
"No Targets either! Now stop it!"
"Grrr..." Katrina growled.
Could she do all this before Sir Robert returned from Wiltshire, just two days journey for Sir Robert while riding the valiant Prince, his infamous black stallion?
Suddenly she heard the sound of a carriage & looked to see Bill the Stable Boy rushing to attend upon the horses. She ducked below the balcony rail so that she would not be seen-
"Oh, I'm so modest, too!"
"Wait, I'm not finished...." I continued typing.
-so that she would not be seen by the Vile Barnabus, who had arrived at speed upon receiving the deceitful note she had sent earlier, doused liberally with her personalized lavender scent, in which she suggested that they might come to 'a mutually beneficial arrangement' if he would but hasten to her side while Sir Robert was away...
"Eek! He's here all ready?! Now what will I do?"
"Well, you wanted to take care of him yourself, so here he is." I smirked, chuckling at having put the demanding Katrina in such a position.
"Fine, but I can't have any witnesses & now Bill the Stable Boy has seen the Vile Barnabus' arrival! You must take Bill away!"
While taking the harness of the lead horse, suddenly Bill the Stable Boy clutched his breast & fell to the ground-
"I didn't mean for you to kill him! He's just a boy! Besides, remember that time he helped me when my petticoat was caught in my saddle - he didn't even try to peak underneath at my pantalettes! Can't you just send him away?"
"Fine!" I backspaced.
Suddenly Katrina heard the sound of a carriage & looked to see the Vile Barnabus (who had arrived at speed upon receiving the deceitful note she had sent earlier, doused liberally with her personalized lavender scent, in which she suggested that they might come to 'a mutually beneficial arrangement' if he would but hasten to her side while Sir Robert was away...) shouting for the stable boy, who was no where to be seen.
Katrina knew this was her chance. She quickly returned to her room, & prepared to don her corset, her petticoat, her hoop skirt, her dress, her gloves, her bonnet -
"I am NOT wearing all those clothes again!" Katrina fumed.
She quickly returned to her room, & with time of the essence, donned only her dress over her chemise, then put up her hair & steeled herself to meet the Vile Barnabus, the man who had orchestrated her father's demise, face to face for the first time.
"Are you sure I can't have an AK47?"
"Positive. But you're a resourceful woman, Katrina; I am sure you will think of something."
"Very well, then..."
As Katrina descended the staircase, she spied the Vile Barnabus with his back to her, gazing out the window across the moors. Presumably he had let himself in, of all the nerve, & Katrina had a biting riposte on the tip of her tongue when he turned.
"Miss Simmons?" he demanded. As he turned toward her, Katrina could not help but notice how attractive he was, in his Gentleman's Cape & pressed trousers. The Vile Barnabus quickly doffed his bowler & strode toward her, "Miss Katrina Simmons? Please forgive me for letting myself into your foyer, but it is with the utmost urgency that I must speak with you, & your servants seem to be mysteriously absent."
"Well, thanks, Helen! Did you have to make him so good looking?"
"Of course! The bad guys are always hot stuff!" I insisted.
Katrina moaned, "Just look at his dreamy green eyes, his manly cleft chin, his broad shoulders. Hear his smoothly modulated voice. This is the man I must kill in cold blood? Sir Robert pales next to him! Sir Robert with his drooping trousers, his sagging suspenders, his ridiculous handlebar moustache, his powdered hands. I cannot go through with this murder! I cannot! Please, will you not help me?"
"Oh, Katrina, but you are such a troll! Are you sure this is what you want? To be swept away by the Vile Barnabus? What about your father? How inappropriate!"
"You're a resourceful woman, Helen; I am sure you will think of something."
"Very well, then..."
Katrina paused, hand on the banister, some inner debate filling her with uncertainty-
"That's because I am waiting to see what you are going to do, duh!"
"Let not my lack of servants trouble you, Sir. Please say what needs be said & then the sooner I see the dust from your carriage wheels the sooner I will be pleased."
"Very well," said the Vile Barnabus, who seemed taken aback. Nevertheless, he carried on, "My dear Miss Simmons, I have only come in order to warn you - the Vile Sir Robert has told you a falsehood!"
"Enough with the 'vile' all ready!"
"I like vile! - Oh, all right..." backspace, backspace...
"Miss Simmons, I have only come in order to warn you - the Villainous Sir Robert has told you a falsehood! In so doing he has effected the death of your innocent father, while besmirching your families honor, not to mention casting aspersions upon my character as well! I hurried to your side as soon as I received your note that the Villainous Sir Robert had departed for Wiltshire. I had hoped that together we would be able to avenge the death of your father & reinstate your family to the nobility!"
"Oh, Barnabus!" Katrina swooned, "If only all will transpire as you have planned! Then perhaps we can be married-"
"Katrina! Hello! What are you trying to do, send Barnabus running for the hills? What happened to your 'I-don't-need-a-man' persona? A little more finesse on your part, please!"
"Okay, I'll back off, just don't let him get away!"
"Oh, Barnabus!" Katrina exclaimed, "If only all will transpire as you have planned!"
"Miss Simmons! May I have the honor of addressing you as Katrina? As soon as we confront the Villainous Sir Robert with the proof of his misdeeds (that I have right here in my pouch), I will challenge him to a duel to champion your cause!"
"A duel! But he might be killed! Sure we can't tip the odds with that AK47?"
"Give the gun a rest, Katrina, I'll not tell you again...You've already interfered with my story more than I would like. In fact, I am thinking it is time to wrap this up & try a new novel. Perhaps with a different lead character...maybe a western! I don't think I want to wait around for you & Barnabus to make cow eyes at each other as you fall deeply in love. I also don't want to mess around with Sir Robert any more."
"If only you hadn't given him those powdered hands!" Katrina shivered.
"Perhaps that was a mistake..."
Suddenly, Sir Ivan from the neighboring estate raced into the courtyard, the whithers of his horse heaving with exhaustion.
"Barnabus! Katrina! Did you hear the news? The town of Wiltshire was just this morning hit by an atomic bomb!"
"Really, Helen, what about 'I can't compromise the accuracy of the period...'"
"Right, right - sorry, I was just looking for a quick fix. How about this -"
"Barnabus! Katrina! Did you hear the news? The town of Wiltshire & all roads thither have been quarantined for cholera!"
"But what will this mean?" exclaimed Barnabus.
"It means we are free of Sir Robert forever!" Katrina shamelessly threw herself into Barnabus' arms & shed some feminine tears. In the midst of embracing the man whom she was quickly growing to love, Katrina could not help but notice, while gazing over Barnabus' shoulder, that Sir Ivan had the most beautiful flaxen hair, a superbly white smile, & how Sir Ivan's biceps filled out ever so nicely the sleeves of his Greatcoat...
"Helen! I'm going to kill you!"
"Excuse me? Hello up there?" Katrina backed away from the edge of the balcony & gazed up into the cloudy mists.
"Are you speaking to me, Katrina?" I asked with some trepidation. After all, I was not in the habit of conversing with characters in my stories.
"Yes!" she exclaimed.
"Well, what do you want?" I wondered aloud.
"What is this - 'all Katrina could do now was wait'. That's a load of crap. What kind of helpless female are you trying to make me into - some sort of wishy-washy, I-need-a-man-to-save-me type of mealy-mouthed woman? I mean really! Why not give me an AK47 & let me go after that Vile Barnabus. I would have my vengeance upon him on MY terms!"
"AK47? Hardly. You're at least a hundred years off - this novel is set in the 1800's. I can't compromise the accuracy of the period just because you don't like the story...but maybe we can work something out."
Katrina stood on the balcony, watching Sir Robert gallop into the night. She clutched at her chemise nervously. What if Sir Robert realized that Katrina had sent him away on false pretenses so that she could deal with the Vile Barnabus herself? Would Katrina be able to avenge the untimely death of her father & find the proof that would reinstate her family to the nobility as Sir Robert had intended? Could she do all this before Sir Robert returned from Walmart? What would be-
"Katrina!"
"What?" her eyes slid away guiltily.
"Walmart? There is no Walmart in 19th century England!"
"Well, I needed to send Sir Robert away for a long time. Everyone knows that people get lost for days in those Super Walmarts! I need time to find the Vile Barnabus AND devise a plan to dispose of him!"
"Fine! I'll work on it! But no Walmarts!!!"
Would Katrina be able to avenge the untimely death of her father & find the proof that would reinstate her family to the nobility as Sir Robert had intended? Could she do all this before Sir Robert returned from Target? What would be-
"No Targets either! Now stop it!"
"Grrr..." Katrina growled.
Could she do all this before Sir Robert returned from Wiltshire, just two days journey for Sir Robert while riding the valiant Prince, his infamous black stallion?
Suddenly she heard the sound of a carriage & looked to see Bill the Stable Boy rushing to attend upon the horses. She ducked below the balcony rail so that she would not be seen-
"Oh, I'm so modest, too!"
"Wait, I'm not finished...." I continued typing.
-so that she would not be seen by the Vile Barnabus, who had arrived at speed upon receiving the deceitful note she had sent earlier, doused liberally with her personalized lavender scent, in which she suggested that they might come to 'a mutually beneficial arrangement' if he would but hasten to her side while Sir Robert was away...
"Eek! He's here all ready?! Now what will I do?"
"Well, you wanted to take care of him yourself, so here he is." I smirked, chuckling at having put the demanding Katrina in such a position.
"Fine, but I can't have any witnesses & now Bill the Stable Boy has seen the Vile Barnabus' arrival! You must take Bill away!"
While taking the harness of the lead horse, suddenly Bill the Stable Boy clutched his breast & fell to the ground-
"I didn't mean for you to kill him! He's just a boy! Besides, remember that time he helped me when my petticoat was caught in my saddle - he didn't even try to peak underneath at my pantalettes! Can't you just send him away?"
"Fine!" I backspaced.
Suddenly Katrina heard the sound of a carriage & looked to see the Vile Barnabus (who had arrived at speed upon receiving the deceitful note she had sent earlier, doused liberally with her personalized lavender scent, in which she suggested that they might come to 'a mutually beneficial arrangement' if he would but hasten to her side while Sir Robert was away...) shouting for the stable boy, who was no where to be seen.
Katrina knew this was her chance. She quickly returned to her room, & prepared to don her corset, her petticoat, her hoop skirt, her dress, her gloves, her bonnet -
"I am NOT wearing all those clothes again!" Katrina fumed.
She quickly returned to her room, & with time of the essence, donned only her dress over her chemise, then put up her hair & steeled herself to meet the Vile Barnabus, the man who had orchestrated her father's demise, face to face for the first time.
"Are you sure I can't have an AK47?"
"Positive. But you're a resourceful woman, Katrina; I am sure you will think of something."
"Very well, then..."
As Katrina descended the staircase, she spied the Vile Barnabus with his back to her, gazing out the window across the moors. Presumably he had let himself in, of all the nerve, & Katrina had a biting riposte on the tip of her tongue when he turned.
"Miss Simmons?" he demanded. As he turned toward her, Katrina could not help but notice how attractive he was, in his Gentleman's Cape & pressed trousers. The Vile Barnabus quickly doffed his bowler & strode toward her, "Miss Katrina Simmons? Please forgive me for letting myself into your foyer, but it is with the utmost urgency that I must speak with you, & your servants seem to be mysteriously absent."
"Well, thanks, Helen! Did you have to make him so good looking?"
"Of course! The bad guys are always hot stuff!" I insisted.
Katrina moaned, "Just look at his dreamy green eyes, his manly cleft chin, his broad shoulders. Hear his smoothly modulated voice. This is the man I must kill in cold blood? Sir Robert pales next to him! Sir Robert with his drooping trousers, his sagging suspenders, his ridiculous handlebar moustache, his powdered hands. I cannot go through with this murder! I cannot! Please, will you not help me?"
"Oh, Katrina, but you are such a troll! Are you sure this is what you want? To be swept away by the Vile Barnabus? What about your father? How inappropriate!"
"You're a resourceful woman, Helen; I am sure you will think of something."
"Very well, then..."
Katrina paused, hand on the banister, some inner debate filling her with uncertainty-
"That's because I am waiting to see what you are going to do, duh!"
"Let not my lack of servants trouble you, Sir. Please say what needs be said & then the sooner I see the dust from your carriage wheels the sooner I will be pleased."
"Very well," said the Vile Barnabus, who seemed taken aback. Nevertheless, he carried on, "My dear Miss Simmons, I have only come in order to warn you - the Vile Sir Robert has told you a falsehood!"
"Enough with the 'vile' all ready!"
"I like vile! - Oh, all right..." backspace, backspace...
"Miss Simmons, I have only come in order to warn you - the Villainous Sir Robert has told you a falsehood! In so doing he has effected the death of your innocent father, while besmirching your families honor, not to mention casting aspersions upon my character as well! I hurried to your side as soon as I received your note that the Villainous Sir Robert had departed for Wiltshire. I had hoped that together we would be able to avenge the death of your father & reinstate your family to the nobility!"
"Oh, Barnabus!" Katrina swooned, "If only all will transpire as you have planned! Then perhaps we can be married-"
"Katrina! Hello! What are you trying to do, send Barnabus running for the hills? What happened to your 'I-don't-need-a-man' persona? A little more finesse on your part, please!"
"Okay, I'll back off, just don't let him get away!"
"Oh, Barnabus!" Katrina exclaimed, "If only all will transpire as you have planned!"
"Miss Simmons! May I have the honor of addressing you as Katrina? As soon as we confront the Villainous Sir Robert with the proof of his misdeeds (that I have right here in my pouch), I will challenge him to a duel to champion your cause!"
"A duel! But he might be killed! Sure we can't tip the odds with that AK47?"
"Give the gun a rest, Katrina, I'll not tell you again...You've already interfered with my story more than I would like. In fact, I am thinking it is time to wrap this up & try a new novel. Perhaps with a different lead character...maybe a western! I don't think I want to wait around for you & Barnabus to make cow eyes at each other as you fall deeply in love. I also don't want to mess around with Sir Robert any more."
"If only you hadn't given him those powdered hands!" Katrina shivered.
"Perhaps that was a mistake..."
Suddenly, Sir Ivan from the neighboring estate raced into the courtyard, the whithers of his horse heaving with exhaustion.
"Barnabus! Katrina! Did you hear the news? The town of Wiltshire was just this morning hit by an atomic bomb!"
"Really, Helen, what about 'I can't compromise the accuracy of the period...'"
"Right, right - sorry, I was just looking for a quick fix. How about this -"
"Barnabus! Katrina! Did you hear the news? The town of Wiltshire & all roads thither have been quarantined for cholera!"
"But what will this mean?" exclaimed Barnabus.
"It means we are free of Sir Robert forever!" Katrina shamelessly threw herself into Barnabus' arms & shed some feminine tears. In the midst of embracing the man whom she was quickly growing to love, Katrina could not help but notice, while gazing over Barnabus' shoulder, that Sir Ivan had the most beautiful flaxen hair, a superbly white smile, & how Sir Ivan's biceps filled out ever so nicely the sleeves of his Greatcoat...
"Helen! I'm going to kill you!"
Friday, April 6, 2012
Routine Maintenance
The problem with a routine is knowing when it's time to change it.
I am a big fan of routines. Way back when I used to read things like Parents magazine, which I followed religiously until my oldest child was about age 6 (at which point I cancelled the subscription, feeling that on-the-job experience must count for something), I took to heart the part about routines. It went something like this: "Schedules and routines are important for children because they need to know what’s coming next. If the schedule is consistent, children learn the pattern. This way, there aren’t too many unknowns." (Quotation stolen from the Internet)
Hey, forget the kids! I needed a routine! A routine is basically self-defense for the parents, & who doesn't want that? When my boys would ask, "Can I watch TV now, Mommy?", Mommy would just take a pointed look at the clock & reply, "Is the big hand on the bottom? No, it isn't - so it is not TV time yet." & the kids buy it! Because the big hand hasn't gotten to a certain place they accept it. Mommy is not telling them "NO"; she is not the bad guy here. Everything depends on that big round clock on the wall! Even a grown-up like Mommy cannot do what she wants until the big hand gets where it needs to be! (As an aside, forget the digital clock for this - the child needs to be able to see the progression of time.)
Every activity then has a time: meal time, snack time, nap time, bath time, bed time, & of course, the biggie - TV time (which shows the age of my children. If I was naming that 'time' these days, I would have called it 'media' time).
TV time in our house on Friday & Saturday nights has been 5:30-(age appropriate bed-time inserted here) for the last 10 years. Somehow, over the years, the boys have finagled an extra 10 minutes up front (as if the TV had to warm up or something) so it's actually 5:20, but I don't normally tell people that or they get all worked up. "5:twenty? Boy, Helen, what are you running with times like that, an airport?"
Actually, this addiction to routine works out well when we visit the french grandparents. Everything in their little corner of France happens at a certain time. I haven't been able to ascertain whether that is a national thing - or just my husbands parents - but you suggest, say, having a snack when it is not the time for the eating of snacks (which is 4pm) & you will receive a look as incredulous as if you had suggested that the family remove their clothing & go running naked thru the garden for a change of pace. (Then again, there may be a certain time for that...)
So, like I said, 10 years later. My children are 15 & 14, & until recently, never have they complained about the scheduled TV time, which for all they know was written on the same stone tablet as the Ten Commandments & therefore indisputable. TV time these days is actually XBox & computer time. Over the years their end time has migrated to 10pm. Seems reasonable to me (Especially since my husband & I essentially give up the television, out of the kindness of our hearts, during that time period.). Unfortunately, my children are playing with other children online who seem to be able to play whenever they want. So, recently, the rumblings of dissension have made their way to my ears.
I consider myself a reasonable woman. As a mother, if I am anything, I am fair. I am willing to consider changes, if a child can come up with a good reason why. & my children are more than willing to work with me - because the alternative is, well, the old TV time! Or, worse, NO TV time! Doesn't matter to me...
So the boys & I sat down & renegotiated. After all, they are growing into men - whether I want to acknowledge it or not. Time to cut them a little slack. Time for them to figure out some of their own routines. Much as I hate to admit it, I can't run their worlds forever.
But I have a feeling that 5:20 will always feature prominently in their memories of childhood. No matter where they are or what they are doing, if they happen to look up & notice the time, they will know that it's, hey! 5:20 - TV time! & sometimes they might remember, like I do, two little boys who are oh so patiently waiting for the big hand to reach the bottom...look, Mommy, it's almost there!
I am a big fan of routines. Way back when I used to read things like Parents magazine, which I followed religiously until my oldest child was about age 6 (at which point I cancelled the subscription, feeling that on-the-job experience must count for something), I took to heart the part about routines. It went something like this: "Schedules and routines are important for children because they need to know what’s coming next. If the schedule is consistent, children learn the pattern. This way, there aren’t too many unknowns." (Quotation stolen from the Internet)
Hey, forget the kids! I needed a routine! A routine is basically self-defense for the parents, & who doesn't want that? When my boys would ask, "Can I watch TV now, Mommy?", Mommy would just take a pointed look at the clock & reply, "Is the big hand on the bottom? No, it isn't - so it is not TV time yet." & the kids buy it! Because the big hand hasn't gotten to a certain place they accept it. Mommy is not telling them "NO"; she is not the bad guy here. Everything depends on that big round clock on the wall! Even a grown-up like Mommy cannot do what she wants until the big hand gets where it needs to be! (As an aside, forget the digital clock for this - the child needs to be able to see the progression of time.)
Every activity then has a time: meal time, snack time, nap time, bath time, bed time, & of course, the biggie - TV time (which shows the age of my children. If I was naming that 'time' these days, I would have called it 'media' time).
TV time in our house on Friday & Saturday nights has been 5:30-(age appropriate bed-time inserted here) for the last 10 years. Somehow, over the years, the boys have finagled an extra 10 minutes up front (as if the TV had to warm up or something) so it's actually 5:20, but I don't normally tell people that or they get all worked up. "5:twenty? Boy, Helen, what are you running with times like that, an airport?"
Actually, this addiction to routine works out well when we visit the french grandparents. Everything in their little corner of France happens at a certain time. I haven't been able to ascertain whether that is a national thing - or just my husbands parents - but you suggest, say, having a snack when it is not the time for the eating of snacks (which is 4pm) & you will receive a look as incredulous as if you had suggested that the family remove their clothing & go running naked thru the garden for a change of pace. (Then again, there may be a certain time for that...)
So, like I said, 10 years later. My children are 15 & 14, & until recently, never have they complained about the scheduled TV time, which for all they know was written on the same stone tablet as the Ten Commandments & therefore indisputable. TV time these days is actually XBox & computer time. Over the years their end time has migrated to 10pm. Seems reasonable to me (Especially since my husband & I essentially give up the television, out of the kindness of our hearts, during that time period.). Unfortunately, my children are playing with other children online who seem to be able to play whenever they want. So, recently, the rumblings of dissension have made their way to my ears.
I consider myself a reasonable woman. As a mother, if I am anything, I am fair. I am willing to consider changes, if a child can come up with a good reason why. & my children are more than willing to work with me - because the alternative is, well, the old TV time! Or, worse, NO TV time! Doesn't matter to me...
So the boys & I sat down & renegotiated. After all, they are growing into men - whether I want to acknowledge it or not. Time to cut them a little slack. Time for them to figure out some of their own routines. Much as I hate to admit it, I can't run their worlds forever.
But I have a feeling that 5:20 will always feature prominently in their memories of childhood. No matter where they are or what they are doing, if they happen to look up & notice the time, they will know that it's, hey! 5:20 - TV time! & sometimes they might remember, like I do, two little boys who are oh so patiently waiting for the big hand to reach the bottom...look, Mommy, it's almost there!
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
What They Learned
When people come to visit us here in Jamaica from the US, these are some of the things they will learn:
- Drive on the left.
- Run the red lights if they are mostly orange.
- Only qualified gas-pumping professionals are allowed to put gas in your car.
- There are lots of pot-holes in the roads.
- Putting the rental car in several pot-holes is not a good idea.
- American Express' Worldwide rental car insurance excludes only six countries in the world; Jamaica is one of them.
- The air conditioner in your room does not turn off by itself, so don't bother thinking that setting a certain temperature will do any thing special. Stick with 'on' & 'off' & just ignore all those other buttons.
- Sooner or later someone WILL offer to sell you ganja.
- "Jellies" are young green coconuts that the Rasta Man chops the top off with his machete so you can drink the coconut water out thru a straw. Jellies can be 'soft' or 'hard', as well as 'cold'. They are tasty & healthy! According to the locals, they 'wash your heart'.
- "Red Stripe" is the local beer, of which you may be required to sample several bottles.
- Lots of Jellies & Red Stripes cooling in the fridge mean not much room for anything else.
- There is no place like Scotchies for Jerk Chicken.
- When you buy fish from the local fishermans market, you will pay extra to have it cleaned. The going rate will be whatever money you have on you. While you are haggling the price of cleaning, your car may be washed by a man who will also expect to be paid, because after all, he has a family to feed - so don't give all your money to the fish cleaner.
- Eating too much tamarind will burn your tongue.
- Eating too many mangoes is impossible.
- Groceries ARE expensive!
- No one knows how they make the milk 'shelf stable'.
- The waterfalls are beautiful, the jungle is beautiful & the beaches are beautiful!
- Salt water stings your eyes.
- You will have a great time visiting, you will get a tan or a sunburn but you will be happy to be going home when your trip is over...
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