One of those times

        Have you ever done something that caused you to feel super stupid and glad no one is watching?  Well, welcome to the club.

      As I stated in my first blog, I am a senior citizen on the slippery side of 71, which means I grew up with LP and  45 records. If we listened to the radio it was plugged in and you couldn't listen to the current songs as our parents considered rock 'n' roll a tool of the devil.  No self respecting teenager would be caught dead listening to the boring stuff our parents liked.

        Recently I decided an mp3 player would be nice to have for the times I was too far from the computer to listen to my favorites or I wasn't in the car to crank up the CD player and sing along.  Besides, it might win me points with the grand-kids as they think I lived when they used quill pens to write with. 

     I tend to research things I want to purchase by surfing the internet, which is so much better than going from store to store or spending hours on the phone comparing prices. Yes children, that is the way it was done in the dark ages when telephones were state of the art.

      A real deal was found on my credit care site that had one that looked like it would do the job so I ordered it, I am like a kid at Christmas when waiting for a package that I know contains a new 'toy' for me.

     It arrived yesterday. After 30 minutes and 3 broken fingernails, it was out of the plastic packaging; I followed the diredtions to charge it and put music in it.   Nothing!  Supposedly the music was on it but I coulnd't even get it to scroll to show settings or contents, etc.  That figures, just my luck!  I was ready to throw it in the trash and dig out the 8 track player. (look it up kids)

       Then it hit me exactly what was wrong. It worked perfectly after I REMOVED THE PLASTIC SCREEN PROTECTOR.!!!!

     the moral: everyone does it, so laugh at yourself. Who knows, you might want to write about it!


       

brother and the hamburger

      My brother is 18 months older than me which sets the stage for major competition, mainly designed to drive Mom crazy.  I was jealous mainly for what I heard everytime I wanted to do something he did, which was "He's a boy is why he gets to do _________. (fill in the blank) Girls can't do that."  Maybe Mothers don't say that anymore but, as my granddaughter told me, "Grandma, you lived in the dark ages."

     So travel back to summer circa 1950 on wash-day, on which I got so tired of hearing that swoosh, swoosh from the basement.(Thank God for automatic washers and dryers!)  Of course, the clothes were dried on the clothesline meaning Mom ran up and down the stairs all day.

      On this one day, brother and I decided we wanted a hamburger for lunch. We would pick a day when Mom was so busy but we were kids and didn't care. Wasn't that what Mothers were for? 

       So she stopped long enough to fix our lunch, sat it on the table fixed a glass of iced tea for each of us and returned to her chores.  I know she was tired of hearing our squabbling and tried to ignore it as she didn't have time today to be referee. 

      My brother had so many annoying habits that irriated me that I can't remember what he was doing at that particular moment when Mom made her thousandth trip through the kitchen, just as I dumped my iced tea on his hamburger.  He felt compelled to retaliate, doing the same to my plate. 

     Mom probably wanted to throttle us if she hadn't been so tired. Then she decided on a better punishment. SHE MADE US EAT EVERY SOGGY BITE!

     It was not very palatable to say the least. The punishment fit the crime perfectly.  so the moral is, if you are going to do something to a sibling, make sure Mom ain't looking! 

strings

      On my way to visit with cousins, thoughts turned to the connections in our lives, strings to all the people we are tied to the minute we are born. First is our parents, grand-parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins to name the closest.  All those have connections to friends and neighbors that we are then tied to.

      If we are taken to Sunday School, we meet children who become our friends for life, attaching strings between us, which ties us to their families.  That is where I met a little girl who is still attached to me by the string that was tied at our first meeting, who I tease by calling her my 'oldest' friend, as she does me. She is a very loving, compassionate person caring for her Mother, possessing her own snapped strings.

      Many more strings develop when we enter grade school and immediately acquire a 'best friend'; for the younger set, it is a BFF.  I was blessed to be able to stay in the same school system from first grade to high school graduation, strengthing the bond between friends and their families. My school friend ,Judy, and I spent every minute we could together with me being at her house as much as I was mine, double dating whenever  possible and having some close calls with trouble  few times. For years she lived away from here, leaving gaps where we didn't see each other but when we did , it was as if no time had elapsed at all.  The string between us snapped in December a couple of years ago, leaving a gap where her string had been for so long.  One thing about these strings, you can't pick them up and tie them on someone else for when they are woven, it is for that person alone, and left dangling until your own string snaps.

      When you marry, or co-habitate as the custom is now, more strings are added, as your children come they tie on their own strings.  Everyone you have a sustained relationship with ties on a string,at work, in the neighborhood, your children's friends and church affiliation. 

      These strings spread wider and wider, creating more and more.  Then we look behind us at the strings that were in tied to us at our birth. Over time the strings have snapped one by one with each death or loss of each person.  Our grand-parents and parents will pass away, as will aunts, uncles, and cousins, etc, leaving their own dangling strings for us to grieve for a time.

      Then a day will come when the last string snaps and all are gone from behind us.  Turn back to the strings coming from you, what do you see?  Strings spreading out like the fan that had come from your parents to you, which in turn, lead to more strings.  We do see some snapped strings there, friends who are no longer with us, children that didn't make it to create their own strings, and some who snapped the string deliberately. Possibly there are some we snapped to break away from people who weren't good for us. 

      Many people search for their lineage, adoptees for birth parents, some for a friend or classmate on Facebook, or go to family reunions. All are looking for or strengthing lost or fraying strings. 

       For the ones of mine that have snapped, I can look at the dangling strings and recall the memories that they represent and the people that were once tied to them that will be renewed when we meet again in Heaven.
           
                                      

kids tricks

      Kids will do things that have us either shaking our heads, screaming, or dragging them to the woodshed.  Of course that last one is a no-no although I knew some kids that were cured of some very unacceptable behavior in that fashion.  We all have memories of this kind of behavior.  The summer I was 6 or so, our maple tree was stripped of small branches as high as my mother could reach.  those suckers sting like crazy when used on the lower legs.

     So on that note, travel back with me to the summer of 1946 about 10 in the morning. The girl next door and I had been flying balsa wood (now made of styrofoam) airplanes in the yard. Considering they didn't hold up to more than once hitting the ground, there wasn't much you could do with them..............except swipe some farmer's matches from the kitchen, go to the outhouse and play with fire, the trick being to drop them down the hole before they burned our fingers.  Doesn't sound too bad does it?  Keep in mind that you don't flush when you are finished, regardless of what Shrek did in his toilet.  Located in the recesses below is paper, usually catalog pages of which the black and white ones were better since the  colored pages were very slick, if you get the picture. So what happens when matches and paper meet? Right! the paper burns.

       So we had burned most of the airplanes when the smoke began to roll out the back, through the cracks, and out the door, even though it was closed , leaving a 2 inch gap.  My friend headed for home on the double while I ran up the walk to the back step, sitting down primly, playing little miss innocent. 

       Several of the neighbor men came running and had it put out in short order.  Of course, I had to 'fess up; I never was a very good liar.  For the first and only time, my mother said, "Wait till your Dad gets home." I don't know a child whose blood doesn't run cold at those words. I imagined all sorts of punishments, not that my Dad was harsh in the least; I probably can count on one hand the times he spanked me.  All he had to do was look at me, talking through his teeth and tell me to quit whatever I was doing.

      Back to the story:  I sat on those concrete steps all day. I couldn't eat, drink, or talk (imagine that!) and although it was hot weather I sat and shivered with my teeth chattering.  Talk about waiting for the executioner to come! I was a wreck!

      Four o'clock finallly came with my rear dimpled by the rough concrete and my nerves shot, as much as a 6 years old nerves can be. As he drove in the driveway, Mom came out the back door, stepping around me and met him in the yard.  I listened as she told him this awful thing I had done. Not daring to look at him, I hung my head and waited for the ax to fall.

      My precious father collapsed in a lawn chair laughing so hard he could hardly breathe as I broke into the  tears that had been held back all day. Something had to give at that moment or I would have exploded.

      It was a relief to know that no further punishment was coming my way and it was a long, long time before I could look at a match with cringing.
      Just as I didn't mean to set the outhouse on fire, or the many other things I did that civilized people shouldn't do, children just can't think of the consequences of their actions and shouldn't be expected to act as miniature adults. So the next time your, or one of the neighbors kids, do something that has you shaking your head, screaming, or wanting to take them somewhere the equivalent of the wood shed, remember something that your inner child did and cut the current generation some leeway till they learn........and try to laugh about it..

                                   Nightey Night
                                              

My little girl

     Children are usually trusting souls and it takes a lot to destroy that trust. Once it is, It takes a lot to regain it.  My little girl is between 3 and 4 years old and in the best of times is not shy or sulky. ( She had thrown some major tantrums at times).  However she hid from me for a very long time, refusing to 'come out and play'.  the following is something I wrote during that period to describe the experience

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        The child’s room is small,containing only a few pieces of furniture. There was a white iron bed with an eyelet dust ruffle and matching comforter, a white cricket rocker with cushions matching the comforter, a small white night-table with a ruffle shaded lamp on it.  The walls are painted white also with an un-curtained window in which the moonlight streams.  It promises peace, comfort, and safety, a sanctuary from anything disturbing.  She has dark hair and eyes and she wears a white nightgown..   But she is not in the room……..I broke my promise to keep her from hurt, not once but three times.  The first was unspoken and she took it for granted.  The second time she hid from me and it took a long time to regain the trust that had been lost.…………Now she hides in the shadows and, though I sense her movement and pain at times, she remains hidden.  I am most aware of her , or the lack of her, late at night when the day’s distraction no longer hold my interest and I long to sleep, but can’t.   I want to cry, but can’t.   I want to do it over, but can’t………I could place the blame at other people’s feet but, ultimately, the responsibility is mine. I let her down over, and over, and over………….To the outside world, I live as if she were in her room, being a part of my daily activities. I keep it hidden that a part of me is missing, pretending that I am a whole person, when my emotions are hiding in the shadows with her.  If you can’t feel, then you can’t hurt.  But if you can’t hurt then joy is absent too.   I have the hope that one of these days she will venture out and see that, even with the mistakes I’ve made, that I am sorry for the betrayals.

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     That child will come out and play sometimes, usually when I am not looking for her.  She did let me rock her last night and tuck her into bed without showing her face. She won't look at me............yet.  I am doing my best to be good and protective of her.........If this sounds like a real little girl, then you are getting the point. She is very real and possibly the best part of me............the child lives in all of us and wants what all children want; love, security, a listening ear and even discipline. Just try talking to her/him and see what happens.  I would be interested in any thoughts on your child.  Maybe we can have a play date!

                                      Good night, sleep tight,and don't let the bed bugs bite.

Children

   
                                                                            Children

         VBS wound up the week with parents and grandparents in attendance at a roaring sound-fest.  How many of those children will remember this week? A kind word from a teacher, a gentle touch, the supper, the games,new friends or maybe an answered prayer?  These memories will go with them through life in that child that lives in their mind.

     Some people don't adhere to the theory that the child inside is real. However that doesn't change the fact. When you are abused, ignored, ridiculed, or bullied, that child inside is the one who cries, the one who is ashamed, the one who is afraid, the one who wants and needs comfort.  That child is who throws tantrums, pouts, wants to eat all the chips or ice cream and cookies for breakfast and fights sleep till they are ready to drop. (I have to admit I do that)  Power struggles come from the child who wanted to be first in line, the first picked for games, or picked by the teacher for recognition, one of the popular kids or even first in the eyes of their parents. "Mom always liked you best" attitude. 

       Have you ever wanted the comforting arms or strong presence of you father long after they are gone from this life?  When I was in my late thirties and my world was black as pitch, I walked the floor crying, saying "I want my Daddy!"  He had been dead for 10 years and was beyond helping or protecting me. that didn't alter the fact that my little girl wanted daddy to help her.  

      How many adults do you know that are children in full grown bodies?  The robber who takes what he wants regardless of the victim's feeling, the mean guy in the neighborhood who is always yelling for kids and dogs to keep off his property or the addict who can't face the child inside who is hurting so they 'put them to sleep' to still their voice. 

     So the next time a driver cuts in front of you, tempting you to ram into him, stop and think. Is this any different than someone cutting in line in school.  If a friends seems to snub you so next time you get even by snubbing them even though they didn't see you before and now their child is hurt. 

     This child is also the one who comforts or helps a friend who has been hurt. I have seen children hug another that needed a hug and gave it without wondering what people would think. All they know to do is how they are treated, especially at home.  So the next time you hug a friend who is in pain, or even have the urge to hug someone you hardly know, do it. Your child recognizes they need it.

     On the other side, the child inside is the vicious criminal, the angry adult that cannot get along with anyone, and takes and does anything that he wants.  Children do live what they learn, good or bad.  Even a stranger with a kind smile or word to a child might turn them from the destructive path they have been put on by family that doesn't care.  You see some families that pass it on to generation after generation.  Could that be what the bible means by Sins of the Fathers? 

     The next time you are having a bad day and you want to throw a fit, go to a quiet place, mentally take that child in your arms, tell them you love them, pray for them and tell them you are sorry they are having a bad day.  She/He may just need to be comforted and understood.  the more you try to ignore her/his need, the worse the day will become. Then when you go to bed and can't sleep she/he will be getting even with you,
     Everone is the product of our experiences, including the first 5 years which is when our attitudes and personalities are formed and set for life.  Think about that little girl/boy who was that age or younger and what they needed to become a functioning member of society.  If they are lacking, you can supply it for them. 
     So take care of that child and she/he will become a better adult. 
                          
                                   "the Lord bless and Keep you.
                                 the Lord make His face shine upon you
                                   And be gracious unto you.
                                the Lord lift up His countenance
                                 Upon you, and give you peace."

                                       Numbers6:24
      

   
         This intro was supposed to be the first blog, which was a long time ago. However, being
new to this at the time, I neglected to 'publish' it. So please ignore the mistake and accept it now, pretending that I am more organized than I am. Thanks

          Please allow me to introduce myself: I am 71, a grandmother of two beautiful girls, 2 handsome boys, and one great-granddaughter who range in age from (almost) 23 to 1 month (almost).

     My friends will tell you I am a confirmed yackoholic and enjoy having a captive audience.  Not always a pleasant trait to have and I find it difficult to reign in at times.  Hopefully this blog will help me curb the urge as you have the luxury of turning me off when I weary you!   

      I have learned a few truths in my years on this earth, all by making mistakes which are many and varied.  A lot of things has happened in my life that, when I was young, would only happen to other people.  Maybe there is someone out there that I can touch with some of these truths.  If it helps only one, it will all have been worthwhile.

     I may quote Dr. Phil from time to time as I am a loyal watcher. He says there is no reality, only perception, which I am not in total agreement with.  There is an ultimate reality beyond our limited knowledge. However, this blog is my perception of this world and what I have learned through the years. 

           To quote Red Skelton, "Good night and God Bless"