The Party of 1981 – Part 2

Dymisha was driving, and I was enjoying my free afternoon with my good friend.  She kept driving down the road, past the houses, straight to the park entrance… and stopped.  I just looked at her, and wondered what in the world was she doing.  We were going out to eat!  She was smiling from ear to ear and pointed to this big sign right in front of us.  (I have never been one to notice the obvious.)

On the sign were big words that said, “Happy Birthday, Brenda!”happy bday sign  My feeble little mind could not wrap itself around what was going on.  There were all kinds of people milling around under the shelter, children running all over the place.  What was going on?

When Dymisha finally opened the door and got out, it kicked in.  A surprise party!!!  She had planned this super awesome surprise party for me with family and friends there.  I can’t remember the details now of what we did that day.  I’m sure we had food because that’s where we were headed.  All I remember is the love:  the smiling, happy, love.

And I still remember it.

She gave me a wonderful gift that day, one she had prepared beforehand and presented to me that day.  A gift I have kept for these past 30-some years.  A scrapbook filled with letters from my family and friends with pictures from the party added later.  A book that would never happen today in the age of texting and tweeting and emailing.The Party

I found that book the other day as I was cleaning out a closet and sat down to look through it, again.  Occasionally throughout the years I would get it out and thumb through it, sometimes reading all the letters, but mostly looking at the pictures.  This particular day, I got out all the letters, everything that was in there, and decided to write about my friend, Dymisha, and the other great people who took time out of a busy day to come celebrate with me.

(to be continued)

The Effort at Making and the Ease of Breaking Habits

Back a few posts ago I wrote about my decline in thanksgiving; that it takes a month, so it’s been said, for an action to become a habit.  This past year was supposed to be filled with new habits:  cooking, practicing my baby grand, exercise routine, and a solid start on my scrapbooking.

Mmmmm! Dumplings

Do you see those delicious dumplings?  They were very delicious… but also one of the very few things I have cooked this year.

Not only do I look like Mom, I make a flour mess like she did. And they live on through us!

Jeez, I can’t believe there was a shooting at the courthouse today!

Do you see these rolls of fat?  Oh, yeah, I lost that picture.  Somehow it just didn’t make it onto the blog.  But they are there, rolling and sagging and jiggling and in general enjoying the non-exercise routine.  They resemble the dumplings above, only not as pretty.

You’ve seen my baby grand (if you’ve read any of my blog) and you notice I am not sitting at it in any of those photos.  I began playing every day when I first got it, and then…

Let’s see.  Now, what was I talking about?  Oh, yeah.  Scrapbooks.

The scrapbooking mess is not allowed to be seen by anyone at the moment.  Apparently even me.

Where is my Carmex?  My lips are so dry in this disgusting, nasty, rainy weather.

So I have already broken habits that I haven’t even made.  How can that be?  I am normally so together.  Okay.  Maybe not so together but for sure thinking about being so together.  Somewhere in those jumbled thoughts of mine I know an organized, so-together person is living who can cook great meals and play the piano like a real piano player and finish fantastic scrapbooks and is lean and trim, albeit still saggy.  That’s just a given at this station in the life cycle.

Thank goodness the month of thanksgiving is almost over.  I am worn out from the effort at making these new habits; there was just no energy left to apply toward making the thankful habit.   Come to think of it… I don’t know why I should be so tired.  It was so easy breaking the half-baked (I did cook!) habits.

Duuuuck! Cheeeese!

Think I’ll just continue on with the one habit I’m pretty sure I succeeded in making and not breaking:  taking pics of the girls in their towel.