fun stuff

It Was A Pretty Sunny Day

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“Mom?”  It was a question fraught with  incredulous amazement.

As I turned my head, I could see my daughter out of the corner of my eye, looking at me in the same way her voice sounded, with incredulous amazement.

“I thought that was you.  What are you doing?”

But wait.  Let me start at the beginning.  It was a sunny day, a nice day to go for a walk to the grocery store.  That’s how it all started, with just a typical, sunny day.

makes you wanna DO something

The grocery store was only three or four blocks away, as are most of the stores and businesses in this little no-stoplight town, so I decided to just walk to pick up the two or three items I needed.

Apparently, several other people had thought the same thing as well because I met some on the way to market (I love that phrase) and chatted up a storm.  I have to say I am chatty and love to visit when given the opportunity; that’s what we do in rural areas (or count corn and soy bean rows).

corn rows

So by the time I got to the grocery store, I was in a good mood and feeling even more chatty.

And I wasn’t disappointed either!  After I got my cart and began to mosey down the aisles, I bumped into one here and then another there, chat-chat-chat.  The more I talked, the more items I put in my cart.    As the cashier rang up my purchases, we, of course, said a word or two in passing, and then it was out the door to get in my car.

When it was all said and done, I had at least three well-filled sacks of groceries:  gallon of milk, cans of something or other, heavy stuff.  “Where in the heck is my car?!” I walked around to the side of the building.  “Now, what the heck?” Then it dawned on me:  I walked.  Four blocks to be exact.  Maybe ten.  At this point, the weight of those sacks of groceries was distorting my spacial recollection.

There was nothing to do but hoof it.  So off I went, and actually did pretty good until the last block.  By that time I was all bent over just trying to maintain some sort of grip on those sacks, contemplating just leaving them there to go get the car.  But I could see my house!  I could make it!

That’s when I heard the voice filled with incredulous amazement.  My daughter had driven up the road and saw this little figure carrying all these sacks.  “I thought you were some little girl!” Not said in a nice way to make me feel young, cute, or vibrant.  More incredulously amazed that a grown woman with children old enough to drive a car would be contorting on the public way, grappling  sacks of food stuffs.

I didn’t care how she said it.  I just hightailed it into that vehicle and went home.

YES!

And the Winner is…

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Bert's basket of good stuff

Yum!  Yum!!  This basket is filled with delicious food from my friend, Alberta:  home-made chicken noodle soup, two turkey sandwich halves, angel food cake with lemon sauce, and a clementine.  She knew I had been sick (forever it seems) and came to see about me and make sure I was still among the living.  I love her!

Bert feeds my cat, Bo, (and any other straggler I may be feeding at the time) when I am gone (or sends hubby to do it).  She comes by in the spring and yanks off all the blooms from the flowers before I can even make the word “Nooooooo!” come out of my mouth (I know it’s for their own good).

Bert and her wonderful hubby

I don’t think I can ever remember a time she didn’t do some little nice something every time she has stopped by my house.  She is a true, good friend, and I can depend on her with my life if I needed to do so.

and I may anyway

So… since I got no response to my potential give-away, (Coming Event: The Give-Away) I am assuming no one is interested in free stuff; free, cool stuff.  Since I know Bert likes free, cool stuff, and since she already participates in person, I think she will win the contest I am starting March 19 and will end March 27.

It will take place those dates because that’s when Rosemary and Maddy can help me pick out something really cool and soon to be really free!

Coming Event: The Give-Away

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the grand prize

One of my favorite blog sites,  Pink Martinis and Pearls , is having a Give-Away.  I have been having such a great time doing all the things she requested (well, actually solving the great computer mystery: how the heck do I do this?) that last night I couldn’t sleep thinking about what I was going to give away!  Lucky you!!

neat apron

goldfsh

You should at least show up on her doorstep and thank her for putting the idea in my head… better wait to see if the “prize” is worth it, I suppose.  Check around and you will see that one blogger has the most beautiful set of lamps, really nice, expensive lamps in her Give-Away.  I capitalize this because it is worthy of capitalization.  It will infuse you with excitement and anticipation and hopefully… more reader participation.

bracelet

My quandary is what to give away and how to execute the give-away game.  (I do so love games.)

you WILL like it

I’ve been asking around at some of the blog sites, looking on line for ideas, and checking out the how-to sites.  I am so excited!!!

Any give-away ideas?

The Sleepover

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Cinderella

The grandgirls and I have been having a sleepover tonight.  We have played and played, just like I remember doing when I was little.

First, they played with all their toys, then we went to Burger King to meet Mawmaw Dar.  They played there until no one was left but the two of them, so we finally came on home.  Next on the play agenda was beauty barler (or something like that) where Kate fixed my hair as well as Ava’s.  That Kate knows how to “tetend.”

We played Cinderella; waltzed to the mini keyboard that has some jive canned music (a little hard to waltz on that one), then at the stroke of midnight, Kate ran off, leaving one high heel.  I usually have to be more than one character, so I was also the servant that came checking to see whose dainty little foot would fit the shoe.  She sticks her little foot out, and wala!  It fits.

What dainty foot will fit in this shoe?

As an added surprise I whisked her up and pretended to gallop on my horse to the castle.  Naturally, we had to do that several times (Ava as well).  Kate would hold on to me with one hand and hold her hat with the other.  She would look around as though talking to someone and coyly say, “I don’t know what he’s doing with me.”  It was just hysterical!

From there it went to Sleeping Beauty with Ava being the dragon.  Little Ava did her part well, coming over every now and then and jumping on Beauty or whacking the prince trying to save Beauty.

Mean stepmother is one of Kate’s favorites, and, of course, she gets to be the mean stepmother first.  She’s only mean to me, though.  Ava is exempt.  Kate will put her mean stepmother face on and tell me to do this and do that, then she turns to Ava and goes so overboard on the nicey-nice just in case Ava may have thought Kate was including her in those mean looks and sassy comments.  Ava gets to go with mean stepmother while I have to sit in the dark bedroom and can’t get up.  She checks back occasionally to see if I’m minding her… sometimes I do. 

I kind of like lying there on the bed in the quiet, nursing my back.

Once Upon a Pony

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Old Bill and me

Once upon a time, a long time ago, my dad got us kids (well, me) (my brother had a quarter horse) a pony.  If you know anything at all about the equine world, you know that ponies are mean little you-know-whats and stubborn.  My dad had a sense of humor, and I can only imagine he bought this pony so he could laugh his buhiney off at the things it did to me.  That’s him sitting on the porch with my little sister on his lap, getting ready for a big guffaw no doubt.

I was six or seven in this picture.  Back then kids had more freedom to move about and play, and were allowed to do all sorts of dangerous (in the eyes of today’s world) activities.  We didn’t have Wii or other games like that, and television wasn’t nearly as interesting as going exploring or playing with friends.   Today, kids think it’s dangerous to walk or ride their bike down the street, even in our little rural town (one of the effects of instant news).  And truthfully, I would have a cow if my grandgirls did half what I did when I was growing up.

My dad had a small farm about a mile or a little more out of town.  Down the dirt road to the north from our house, past the horse show arena, on out toward pee curve, turn to the west and go up a sloping, steep hill (especially on a bicycle in the hot summer), then breeze on down the other side to the farm.  We had a great time on that place.  That’s where Mom had her garden, where Dad had animals of all sorts through the years, and where the barn with the horses was.

Some days I would drive out to the farm with Dad (back then we could sit in the truck bed) and ride Old Bill.  This particular day I was going to ride him back into town to the house, following Dad’s truck.  We did just fine till we got to the top of that steep hill.  It was summer, and I guess Old Bill just didn’t like to be pushed that hard.  We were in the part of the road that had shade trees on either side, and Dad’s truck was waaaaaay down the road turning pee curve to head on to the house.  He was gone.  And I have to admit, I felt just a bit more than a smidgen of panic.

I don’t know if Old Bill sensed I was scared to be there all by myself or if he had it planned the minute he saw Dad’s truck make the curve, but he started to lie down in the road… with me on him.  I pulled on the reins and kicked the fat, stubborn thing with all my little years had in me to no avail.  It was either jump or get squashed.  So I jumped off just as he did the full lie-down.

Oh, I got Old Bill to the house.  I led him the rest of the way home.  Every time I tried to get back on him, he would lie down in the road.  As soon as I quit, he got up and would start plodding along.  I know I couldn’t have felt any heavier than a mosquito on his back.  By the time we got home, I was spitting mad… at Old Bill, at Dad, and at me for my inability to control that stubborn pony.

Now, though, I give myself a little credit.   I suppose at the age of 7 or 8 that I had some control… or he would have bucked me off and ran away.

But that’s another Old Bill tale.

Oh Happy Day!! Oh Happy Day!!!

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doing the happy dance

This has been a great day!!!  The internet customer service dude finally took the time to actually fix my internet connection.  (I can’t discuss it anymore than that, or I will forget I had a great day!)  I took pics of my neat gift from my neat friends (Funky Three without Me) (will finish that story tomorrow);

the wrapping paper (I love Veggie Tales)

I got my floor all sanded and polished and the furniture back in the house; AND (drumroll please) I got my baby grand delivered!!  YES!  What a great day.  And to top it off, I went to my Matilda and the Hogbottom Girls book club meeting,  pigged out on great food, and discussed the book Chasing Fireflies by Charles Martin.

Matilda and the Hogbottom Girls

So now I have to sing the song of joy and happiness as they did in the movie “Sister Act” with Whoopie Goldberg.                                      

the baby grand!

“Oh happy day, oh happy day, when Jesus washed my sins away.  He taught me how to fight and pray. And live rejoicing every day.  Oh happy day.  I’m talking ’bout the happy days.  Oh happy day.”

There’s a House in My Hallway

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cardboard house

Yesterday, as I was getting dressed in the bathroom, I looked over toward the hallway door, and there sat a house in my hallway!

For two weeks now I’ve been waiting to get the floor in my living room finished.  The corner spot is all filled in with the new wood, ready to be sanded and polished to perfection with the rest of the wood flooring in that room.

So in the meantime my furnitureless, bare room has been turned into a big play area.  Kohl’s had this really neat cardboard house on sale after Christmas (a find on one of my many shopping expeditions with my sister) ($12) so I set it up in the garage, but moved it to the living room/temporary play room when it got super cold, and since there is nothing in that room.  The girls love it!!  And, well, so do I.

After much playing house in it, setting up tables and chairs, arranging the flowers, even getting the little “car” in there,

looking through the window

the house has turned into a camper, a mobile home, a mobile house on wheels slick floor.  My floors are waxed (until the refinishing) (yippee! no more waxing!) so the house slides really well.  Being a cardboard house, it’s light weight and rather fragile, especially with Ava, the bull in a china shop, so occasionally I have to do a little carpentry work and duct tape a few pieces torn off or clip back together the pieces coming apart.

Kate opening the door to visitors

All said and done, it’s been worth every penny of the $12 I spent on it.

Nancy and Darla… and babies and diaper bags and…

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Nancy and Darla with their babies

The neighborhood wouldn’t have been complete without the “little sisters.”  That is, Terry’s little sister and my little sister.  You never saw one without the other.  You never saw either without their babies in one arm and their diaper bags thrown over the shoulder of the other arm.

Nancy lived up the hill from us, a block away.  Those two kept that road hot.  I can still see them walking up or down that hill with their “children.”  They would meet in the middle to discuss important “stuff” or just to walk with the other to one of the homes.

As they grew up, they embraced Barbies (along with the babies) and went wild and crazy over the Beatles.  One of them would get a pretend microphone and stand on the bed and pretend to be the Beatles, singing her heart out, “I Want To Hold Your Haa-aa–and,” while the other, standing at the foot of the bed, would squeal and scream and fall down on the floor… just as the girls on the TV did at the Beatles concerts.

Nancy was Catholic; Darla was Southern Baptist.  I’m not sure what kind of Catholic game they played, but I was privy to the Baptist one where Darla would stand and preach to Nancy and sing hymns.  She perfected her preaching when she was raising her children and ordering them to get dressed, clean their rooms, just generally behave…  and she still sings hymns.  I’m thinking that Baptist preaching Darla taught Nancy may have come in handy as Nancy raised her own four children and had to do a little preaching herself.

Gigi’s House of Good Stuff (and lots of it)

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Last week I kept the grandgirls, and we did all of our favorite things.  Kate is four and Ava is on the cusp of two, in April.  One night we painted fingernails and toenails.  It is just too cute on those little fingers and toes.  Kate already had the dialogue for the envisioned scenario between her and Logan about her nails at Pre-K the next day.  He says, “Kate, what is that on your fingernails?”  Kate:  “Fingernail polish.  Gigi painted them at her house last night.”

pink nail polish

It’s pink… of course.

Some of the best times of my childhood were playing house and dress-up and dolls.  So I save scarves and gloves and shoes and purses and jewelry (use the word loosely)  for just such an opportunity.  And over the years, with all my wee friends, (and not so wee come to think of it) those gloves and hats, etc., have brought lots of laughter and fun times.

Kate and her children

Ava in purple hat

Since I now wear reading glasses, the little ones love to get them and put them on.  I’m always amused at how they look all around with those glasses on their faces.  It has to be blurry.  Ava is no exception; she adores wearing them.  She loves to sit on the couch, get a blanket all situated around her nice and cozy, and look at her book.  Oh yeah, she loves Boo, her blue bear, and his little arms, more than anything.

Kate in red hat

Ava “reading”

There is a menagerie of stuffed animals and various dolls at the house.  They are called into service to be the children and pets to a Mommy, sick and in need of medical care at the vet’s, or needing saved by a superhero, just to name a few of the play ideas I’ve been privy to over the years.

two tents are way more fun

One tent just won’t do anymore.  We must now have two, and Kate and Ava visit back and forth.  I’m always amazed at how much “stuff” Kate can get in her little make-shift tent.

Gigi and yawning Ava

Reminds me of her Gigi.

Mulberry Groundhog

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Our corner of the world, our neighborhood, was a magical place.  There were wheat fields all around us with “town” only a couple of blocks away.  An arena for horse shows was just down the dirt road.  The big new Catholic Church was being built right across the street from my house, chock full of nooks and crannies for our never-ending curiosity capers, sitting right on the corner that met three houses full of my friends and playing partners.

sledding

That was the same corner where the big hill sat for sliding down on our sleds in the winter or flying down on our bikes with hands held high in the air in the summer, right beside the house where Terry and Nancy lived, all the way to the corner where the Martins lived.  There was the  pond that froze over in the winter on which we “shoe” skated, down in the woods on the other side of Gail’s house and Peggy’s house.  A short walk, maybe a half a mile, would take us to “Pee Curve” and the gullies where we swung from one side of the deep ravines to the other on long, thick grapevines.

And we kids had an appetite for adventures.  We wrote and acted in our own plays, then sold tickets to our family and neighbors, even selling popcorn at one of the plays.   We rode horses all over the place, putting the stubborn animals in the local horse shows (at least mine was stubborn).

one of the horses

We made Barbie towns in the basements.  We even had our own village in Peggy’s basement with a restaurant, dress shop… now the details are fuzzy.  We became blood sisters; climbed up and sat in the big tree and cut our palms and rubbed them together.  We snuck out at night and rode our bikes around town.  (Terry made me do it.)

riding bikes

And we made up this really neat game:  Mulberry Groundhog.  Since my memory was kind of fuzzy on the actual play of the game, I enlisted Terry and Gail to fill in the details, hoping they weren’t fuzzy as well.  Turns out, if we were leftovers in the fridge, we’d be so covered with fuzz that we’d be ready for the trash bin.  We did deduce it had something to do with a long stick, one participant being the Mulberry Groundhog with the other suckers sitting on a blanket squirming around to keep from getting whacked or jumping up and running off to be chased… or something like that.  We remember bits and pieces.

days gone by

But what we all remember… is how very much fun we had growing up in our neighborhood.