Ring of fire?

Using my stove today reminded me of an incident that now I think is ridiculously funny.  This particular day I was going to cook, so I turned the electric burner on high and walked away to cut something up for the recipe.  Totally forgetting the burner was on, I noticed what looked like white powder on each ring of the burner.  To investigate further, I took my forefinger and proceeded to push it all around the outer ring to try and wipe it clean.  Holy smokes!!  My thought as I pushed my finger down on the ring was it was getting warm because of the friction between my finger and the metal ring of the burner, Wrong!  The burner was powdery because it was starting to heat up.  Could this be?  I just gave my finger 1st to 2nd degree burns voluntarily?  How could I forget in 30 seconds or so that I had turned on that burner?  What was going through my head besides NOTHING!  After starring at my finger like it was an alien, I retrieved an ice cube from the freezer to relieve the burn. Well, now if you agree with me and think that was humorous, please read on.  The ice must have done the trick because the finger did not blister.  About 2 days later, if you can believe, I did it again!  Only with a different burner and the fore finger of my other hand.  Same exact circumstance, same reason to wipe off the powdery substance, and same kind of burn!!  How stupid can I be?  Obviously, very stupid, because the first burn incident did not register in the brain as I burned the other finger. This time I looked at my new burn longer for maybe 20 seconds, as I was in total denial that it could happen 2 times in one week.  Guess I am not good with electrical appliances.  Just as a point of reference, I do not own a mixer of any kind to this very day.  But I'm terrified of gas stoves so I will stick to electric.  Once I rented an apartment that only had gas stoves.  That was too scary because being so afraid of fire I can not light a match, even to this day.  So to get the gas to light, I would blow on the burner and walla fire!  Needless to say I did not cook often while living there.

Bloody Mess

Mom had lung problems with bronchitis, asthma, and emphysema, and she was really sick at times.  Since I didn't go to school yet, there was allot of time to be with mom and grandma.  One day mom was sick and was spending the day in grandma's bed to be close to the phone, kitchen, and bathroom.  My thoughts were to stay by mom in case she needed something and because I loved her so much it scared me when she got so sick.  So I took my doll in the bedroom to play quietly under the window across the room from the bed.  Mom told me to leave, so I tried to be extremely quieter.  She asked me again with more authority to get out of the room.  As I was explaining why I wanted to stay, she got up out of bed, with a look of determination, she proceeded to pick me up by my throat and shake me.  Man, this took me off guard!!  She never did this before and can safely say never again.  She was calling me names I believe, but not sure because I was struggling for air and my nose was bleeding I thought, unless she was squeezing the living snot out of me!!!!  My hero, grandma, came to see what all the yelling was about, thank goodness.  She grabbed me from the fatal death grip and told my mom to get her butt back in bed and stay there.  Yea, I thought stay there for sure!  Grandma took me to the kitchen and put my head back with a cold cloth on the back of my neck and forehead.  When I calmed down, I thanked her for helping me.  She warned me not to upset mom when she was not feeling well.  No crap!!  It did not take a sledge hammer over the head to teach me a lesson.

Tutor

As you know my sister, Diane, is 6 years older.  When see was a senior, I was in seventh grade.  School was not easy for her, mom and dad both graduated from the 8th grade, and could not help with most subjects.  Diane would get so frustrated and was never able to express anger in a non violent way.  So this lead to a big blow up between her and our parents, everyone was upset and unhappy!!  It always hurt me when they would get so impatient with Di and think the only answer was to spank, hit, or use the strap to settle her down!!  Mom came up with the brilliant idea that I should help Di with all her homework.  Completely opposite of Di, I loved to learn and read.  Often I would bring home my school books to read and work ahead just for fun.  Now I had to tutor my older sister, so the anger was not concentrated on our parents anymore, guess who?  Many and I do mean many nights, she would just get up from the table and leave refusing to come back to finish the work.  The solution was for me to finish it or get the strap.  Well, this did eliminate her temper tantrums!  It was easier, more peaceful and less painful to do the work rather than argue.  Once I remember Di was supposed to read a book about Abraham Lincoln and write a book report.  She absolutely refused to read any part of the book, it was boring to her.  So I took the book, read it, wrote a report, which Diane did hand to the teacher.  When she received the paper back, the grade was an F over an A.  A note written next to this grade that said, it was a very good report but was not Diane's work.  Diane was really mad and she took it out on me of course!!  Wow, I got an A for a senior book report!  That joy lasted longer then the anger she sent my way. 

Chocolate?

I remember when I was probably 3 years old that I was going to sneak s chocolate candy bar.  In our kitchen we had a stove next to the sink.  The sink had two sinks and a good size counter.  Between these two pieces was a gap of space that I could almost fit into, except my head.  There was a window above each of these pieces.  Between the windows there was a medicine cabinet with a mirror.  Of course at the time, I didn't know what they called it but to me it held allot of interesting items.  So with mom and grandma sitting out on the porch, it was time to investigate this box on the wall.  So I proceeded to push a kitchen chair over to the sink and climbed up into the sink and got my self positioned to set on the edge.  My legs and feet dangled between the stove and sink.  It is so much fun to sneak things!!  So carefully I opened the mirror and took a quick look at the contents.  AH-HA!  So this was where mom hid the chocolate, yum!  Then opening the box I noticed their were 2 square bars left.  So I unwrapped the pretty silver foil and sat happily enjoying my chocolate.  It was a little different tasting, but maybe it had been in this box for a long time.  Just as I was finishing the last bar, the front door opened and shut!  It had to be either mom or grandma coming into the house!  Before I could scoot off the sink, mom caught me red handed with the evidence in my hand and all over my face!  Parents are tricky, they ask questions they already know the answers too.  She asked what was I doing?  Silly answer is 'nothing'!  She bolted over to me and grabbed that chocolate piece out of my hand.  She lifted be by one arm to get me off the sink!  Man that hurt, and I thought I would fall, this was enough to scare me to death, but the worst was yet to come.  She asked me if what I ate was good?  Well yes, or I would not have eaten so much!  So I nodded yes, and surprisingly she gave me the last bite to finish.  YUM!  She warned me that I would be sorry for what I had done!!  How?  It was delicious!  In about 15 minutes, I did regret my actions, because I had eaten 2 bars of EX-LAX!!!!!  It was medicine to make you poop, allot!  Well, I got ring around my butt, because all that day and into the next I pooped till I was blue in the face.  Mom didn't need to spank me, pooping till my butt was raw worked.  After while all I did was cry when mom would wipe me, and I swear she was deliberately ruff in doing that so it would hurt!  This stopped my from sneaking anything after that, because I wasn't sure what it might be or how it could affect me!! Learned my lesson>

Flipped

Uncle Raymond loved to tease me, all the time!  Maybe because I was a good sport about it most of the time.  Except this one night!!  He would often tickle me and take one of my shoes off.  He would teases me by holding it just high enough, when I jumped up to get it back he would jerk it higher.  Uncle Raymond was 6 feet tall and this usually occurred in the driveway as we were leaving.  His driveway was nothing but sharp stones that hurt your bare feet.  My family were huggers, when we arrived we gave everyone a hug, and when we left we gave another hug.  My mothers side of the family were like that so it was the norm, but my dad's side of the family never hugged each other let alone visitors.  The cousins on that side thought we were strange, they didn't get hugs from their own dad's, why did Diane and I hug them coming and going.  They all seemed to look forward to the hug and happily welcomed the embrace.  Anyway, back to the memory!  This particular night Uncle Raymond grabbed my shoe and taunted me for what seemed like hours, being barefoot on the sharp stones.  So I simply stood still with my back to him and announced that he could keep the shoe, I was feed up with the game.  So he snuck up behind me and dangled the shoe over my head so I could see it easily.  This just made me so blasted mad, without thinking, I grabbed his forearm and tugged as hard as a 7 year old could.  As I tugged a bent over as far as I could go without falling forward.!!!  Holy crap!!  When I opened my eyes Uncle Raymond was on the ground in front of me, on his back, with a look of shock!!  In my anger, I had flipped this 6 foot 170 pound adult and now I was scared!! Like Urkule, "Did I do that?"   Before he could regain his bearings, I ran as fast as I could and tried to get under my mother's dress.  Uncle Raymond would beat the tar out of his kids when they misbehaved and I thought I was in for one good beating!!  He stood up and rubbing his back, from landing so hard on those sharp stones, he called me a little shit and started to walk towards me with my shoe still in his hand.  I truly thought my short life was over!  He stopped and called me over to him, I looked up at mom who was pushing me out from under her dress.  So cautiously I approached him with tears rolling down my chubby cheeks, when he picked me up!!  He put my shoe back on my foot and gave me a kiss.  He called me a little shit again and told me what a surprise I could flip him so fast without warning.  He was not mad at me!!  To this very day, he talks often about this incident, still amazed I flipped him over my head.  One thing for sure was that never ever again did we play that grab the shoe game.  He had a little more respect for me after that, because he wasn't sure what else I was capable of doing. 

Sparky

Sorry to jump ahead 20 years or so, but as I remember events I must blog.  This one day the primary organization of my church, which age ranges from 18 months to 12 years of age, was having an activity day.  Activity day was scheduled for 3 to 4 times in a year in which the children, teachers, parents, and primary leaders meet at church for fun games centered around a gospel theme.  This particular day, I was to bake cupcakes for the snack portion of the activity.  Through the course of the morning for what ever reason, I was running way behind schedule, way behind!  So a brilliant thought flashed in my mind to take all the ingredients and my mixer, pans and so forth to the church.  That way I could make and bake them right there and the cupcakes would be nice and warm and fresh for everyone.  So packing all necessary supplies, off I went to church thinking,' doing it like this is killing 2 birds with one stone' as they say.  Upon arrival I immediately proceeded to dump in the dry cake mix and margarine and started to beat these together.  Shirley, the primary president, poked her head into the kitchen to inform me everything was moving faster than we had originally anticipated.  My activity with the kids would need to start in approximately 5 to 8 minutes!  Wow, that really sent me into confusion mode, because the treat portion of the activity was after my part!!  So, as I turned back around to finish the cupcakes, my cord that plugged into the mixer from the wall socket, fell into the batter!! What else could go wrong?  My first thought was to grab a fork to clean out the holes on the cord, but they were too far away!  So I thought to myself just suck it out of the holes, brilliant idea or not?  So I stuck that end of the cord into my mouth and proceeded to suck out the batter.  To my surprise, the other end of the cord was still plugged into the live wall socket!!!!  Immediately sparks started to burst from my mouth and my lips began to quiver so fast!  I'm sure my eyes bugged out as far as they could without falling out of my head!  Also, my knees suddenly began to fell like rubber, and began to buckle!!   Holy cow! What was I thinking?  Obviously, I was not thinking at all!!  The Lord blessed me to be mindful enough to pull it out of my mouth with a quick jerk!! Standing there starring at the cord in disbelief of my stupidity, Shirley again sticks her head into the kitchen to tell me the kids were ready for my activity.  She stood there for a second and asked if I was alright?  Dumb-founded I told her I would fill her in later since I lived to talk about it.  She now was confused, too.  Well, need less to say I never finished the cupcakes, someone had to make a trip to the store to get cookies.  As I entered the gym in the church, Shirley was explaining to the children that I was going to teach them a dance called the hokey poky.  As the music started playing, my mind was a complete blank.  I could not remember one line or word from the song and bewildered I turned to the adults and asked if anyone knew the words or movements.  Several people came right into the circle and helped teach this dance.  After everyone went home Shirley asked me what was wrong.  So I told her this story and she got a look of amazement then grabbed my arm and started to laugh, at which time it dawned on me that it was so stupid it was rather funny, and we sat there laughing so hard.  At work I happened to relate this same story to 4 guys I had to work with and thus was nicknamed 'Sparky'.  Of course they were hysterically rolling on the floor and could not resist passing it on to others.  The next day a mechanic came up to my machine, through down an industrial extension cord and asked" So I hear you like a little juice in the morning".  Oh, my goodness, that was such a good line that I almost wet my pants laughing.  The guys again were rolling on the floor laughing so hard they complained that their stomachs hurt!!  There is not room on the Internet to list all the comments, names or jokes that people shared in reference to this incident.  Guess it is time to pull the plug on this memory!!

Fear Factor

Another summer my family went to the cabin by the lake with my (dad's brother and his family of 5 kids), Uncle Raymond.  The cabin belonged to his in-laws who were very sweet people.  His father in-law's name was Carson, a fun grandpa type that liked to tease the kids.  My grandma that lived with us was invited to come along for the day, she loved to take rides and be outside.  At home she would often sit on the porch in the evening, this was our nightly entertainment, and just enjoy.  So we took the trip to the cabin and we got to wear our bathing suits in the car under our regular clothes.  That was fun!!  It never took much to make me happy!!  That day everyone was in their suits ready for the lake.  Dad drove the car down to the beach so grandma could watch us and enjoy the beautiful view and sounds of the area.  Since I'm a bit leery of the water to say the least, I always stayed back to see what to expect.  Amen!  All Uncle Raymond's kids could swim and out in the lake was a floating dock thingy that had a ladder on one side.  The kids would climb up on the dock and jump back into the water.  That was it?  Once you do that a few times I would think it to get boring.  Well, Carson saw my sister Diane, she was standing in the water only up to her knees and watched everyone on the floating dock having fun.  So Carson came over and picked Diane up (she was about 9 or 10 years old) and proceeded to carry her out to the dock, or so it looked.  When they got out to where the water was just above his waist, He tossed Diane into the lake where it was deep.  She could not swim, and Carson did not know, or he would never have been so cruel, I'm sure.  Right at this time, Uncle Raymond was advancing toward me telling me he was going to get me out on that dock with his kids.  Yikes!!  I ran as fast as my 4year old legs could go and high-tailed it for grandma and the car.  Without a doubt, I knew grandma would protect me!!  Good thing I had been very observant and stayed back, because this gave me a head start back to the car!  Never have I opened that car door so fast, jumped in and just as I pushed the door locked down and looked up to the window, there he was.  He called me a little shit and demanded I unlock the door.  Was he crazy, because I knew I wasn't crazy enough to let him in!!!  Thank goodness dad had not rolled down the back windows of the car, and survival instinct took me over.  Promptly, I saw Uncle Raymond's eyes check out the status of the other back door.  My eyes jumped right out of my skull!!  Holy cow it was not locked!  He had more ground to cover than I did, so I screamed, "NO", and scrambled over that seat just in the absolute nick of time.  Phhew!!  Again he called me a little shit and started to reach through the window to unlock the door.  See, he couldn't do that on the other side cause grandma was setting in that seat with her arm out the window, and grandma arms were not so little.  Just as he reached the lock to pull it up, I screamed again, (NO, HELP GRANDMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and she gruffly told him to leave me alone and get back out to the water to watch his own kids.  Nanner, nanner, nanner!!  Only after he left, I scrawled over the front seat and slid down next to grandma, and cried till I feel asleep.  It felt so safe with grandma giggly warm arm around me.  But I woke up in a panic! Diane!  What or where was Diane?  Did they hurt her?  But when I focused to look out to the floating dock, there she was sitting on top.  Man, I almost started to cry with relief when I spotted her bathing suit with her still in it alive!  Uncle Raymond had her jump off into his arms and he was trying to teach her to swim.  Our fear of water was too great neither of us, to this day, have ever over come that demon enough to try lessons.  Even when I shower, I stand with my back to the faucet so the water won't get in my face.  I swear, if it wasn't for my grandma, these pages would not exist. 

15 Minute Marathon

One of the fun things I loved to do as a little girl was to jump rope.  One day I brought the rope into the house and proceeded to jump rope through the house.  It was kind of a skip as you jumped over the rope.  It was really fun or so I thought.  My dad had warned me to stop jumping in the house and go outside.  But unfortunately I continued to jump rope!  Dad got up, left the room, and returned with something behind his back.  He very calmly asked if I liked jumping rope.  Smiling I answered "yup"!  He slowly showed me what was behind his back, it was the strap!!  This was not any ordinary strap, it was a 25 inch piece of leather they used on the farm to drive the horses, and it was thick.  Usually mom or dad would double the strap to whack us, and it we tried to run away, they would let go of one end to catch you in mid stride.  OUCH!!!  My smile turned upside down extremely fast, as well as my eyes were as wide as the Mackinaw Bridge.  He said he was glad I liked to jump rope because I was to jump for the next 15 minutes and if I stopped, he was going to whip the living tar out of me.  He set the timer on the stove and suggested I start jumping.  Fifteen minutes is forever to a little kid, I know, I felt like my legs were going to fall off!!  But I realized he was not kidding, and calmly sat down to make sure I jumped the whole time.  It was a fairly close race between the amount of jumps I made in that 15 minutes and the amount of tears that dripped off my chubby red cheeks.  Either way, at the end of my sentence dad walked back into the kitchen to put the strap away and never said another word to me about jumping in the house.  He never had to because I never ever picked that jump rope up again, and to this day I have not ever played jump rope.  I am a fast learner the first time.  Then I became a very obedient daughter each time they asked me to do something. 

Skip & Scab

My dad gave me a nickname when I was very young.  For all the things that happened to me, against all odds, I was a happy child most of the time.  It was reflected in my cheerful skipping.  Everywhere I went I would skip, upstairs, downstairs, in the driveway, porch, park, but never at school.  I was a very shy person in public, but at home I was safe to be me.  So dad called me Skip.  One day as I was skipping down the back steps, which were cement steps, I tripped and it was not pretty.  I cried and cried because it hurt of course but also because I was bleeding.  The corner of the step poked a hole in my leg.  My dad came running out of the house to check on my death curdling sobs.  He picked me up and carried back into the house to clean the wound and bandage my leg.  Dad liked the old fashioned doctor remedy of putting turpentine on the scraps and the bleeding hole in my leg because it supposedly would help the wound scab over and heal quicker.  When he came back with the can of turpentine I almost came unglued!!  What was he going to do to me?  He  used this to clean paint brushes, I watched him many times.  My panic was escalating and I just knew it would burn and sting horribly!!!  Well, he let me carry on for about 2 minutes before he looked up at me and in his deep impatient voice yelled for me to stop my caterwauling to firmly assure me it was not going to hurt.  I tried to push the can of turpentine away, but dad said I had a choice to let him finish or get a spanking.  So I closed my wet eyes as tight as possible and waited for the screams of pain.  Surprise, it wasn't smarting, stinging or anything!!  I opened my eyes and looked at dad and he looked at me then said I told you it would not hurt!!  Long story short, my knees and leg scabbed over and healed within a week.  So after this I learned to trust dad even when I wasn't sure he was right.  Within seconds of my first turpentine application I was up and skipping everywhere again.  Thanks dad!

Puppy Love?

My sister Diane, had a dog for several years before I was born.  It was a cocker spaniel, all black, and she was very creative naming him Blacky.  They did everything together and that dog loved her and would do anything she ask.  Blacky was kept in the garage on a chain that gave him plenty of room to roam around the back yard.  Every time we rode in the car, Diane always rode behind mom, and I rode behind dad on the drivers side.  Diane loved to play this game each trip to the car.  She would laugh so hard with those brown evil eyes.  Her game was 'sic her Blacky'!!  That little black dog would come at me full throttle, baring his teeth, and the worst part was his deep, deep wicked growl.  He scared me, and even when Diane  was at school, and I would try to play with Blacky, he would do the same thing.  If I happened to play within his area in the back yard that his chain reached, that wicked puppy would chase me nipping at my heels. He would jump up and try to bite me, at least that was what I thought he was trying to do.  I didn't usually stick around long enough to experiment.  Could this be the key to my fear of dogs?  It didn't matter what Diane did to me, she was my sister and I loved her, she just didn't love me back yet.  Across the many years, I think I have grown on her, because now she says "I couldn't ask for a better sister, I love her so much."  That saying about hanging in there is true.  Give it 55 years or so and they will come around to appreciate your existence!!!  When we had to get rid of Blacky, I was crying on the outside, but I'm ashamed that on the inside it was a feeling of relief and celebration.  Don't tell my sister, we have come so far!!!

Ghost Story

As if sleeping upstairs with my sister wasn't scary enough, my mom and 2 of her sisters, Fern and Viola, shared an episode they had in the room nest to where we slept.  Our upstairs was big, at the top of the stairs there was a railing with slats to prevent anyone from walking off the edge of the floor and falling.  The ceilings were higher than they are today in most low income homes, that would be any under $70,000.  The first room had our metal framed bed, you know that metal draws lighting right?  We each had a dresser, and Diane's had a mirror.  Between the two dressers was a wooden door with a tiny hook and eye sort of latch.  Security was not a priority in those days.  The door opened into a huge room with 2 tall windows and a small rectangle window.  Oops, forgot to tell you in our bedroom we had a tall window at the foot of the bed for ventilation.  Anyway, in this other room, behind the door was a closet without a door and was approximately three feet by four feet,  Next to that sat a long rectangular wooden hand built box. it had a lid that could be latched and locked with a pad lock.  It was where we stored the blankets and winter coats and other things.  It could hold lots of stuff.  This was the room I would play in, all by dolls, toys, books, my chalkboard, and my little kids table and 2 chairs.  There also was a single bed in the corner under the small window.  There was another small door on one wall to get into the attic.  It was a doorway that was maybe 4 feet high and narrow.  You would have to step up into the attic, and there was a pull string for the only light bulb, which was not of high wattage.  It was not a room that was finished, the floor was 3 boards wide and went the length of the attic.  At the far wall was a teeny tiny window, too high to look out.  Usually in the summer there was a nest of yellow jackets by the door going into the attic.  The room was rich in loads of spider webs, and my theory, where there is spider webs, there are spiders!!  Now that I have set the ambiance for the story I'll get on with the telling.  My mom and her siblings were raised in this house also.  Which means they slept upstairs like my sister and I.  They were talking one day and began to relate an episode as they called it, that happened to the 3 of them one night.  They were in the second room playing near the attic and all of a sudden the locked door of the attic banged open, which in itself would be enough to fill ones pants.  But, they swear this to be a true story, out of the attic came a few white misty type clouds that floated around their heads!!!   They said that they almost killed each other trying to get out of there and down the stairs!!  They would laugh so hard after so many years, reliving there battle to be the first one down stairs and not be the last, afraid the ghosts would get a hold of them to prevent their escape.  Well, we laughed too, until it was dark and bedtime!!  Every night we checked and double checked that tiny hook latch on the door to the next room.  Sometimes we thought we heard strange noises coming from that room,  but if you close your eyes long enough with the covers over your head, you fall asleep.  When I would play in that room, it was always during the day with something heavy in front of the attic door.  Also there was always something to prop the door to our bedroom open so it didn't slam shut.  Just maybe, as I played< I was looking over my shoulder, oh wait now I remember, I would never play with my back to that attic door!!!  When I first heard this story, I was maybe 5years old.  Could this be why I am afraid of the dark?  Afraid to go to the bathroom by my self?  This was not a good bedtime story to hear, even my sister was afraid to go in that room and especially the attic.  Thank goodness I am allergic to bees, it was the only reason I never had to get anything out of the attic.  Ha-ha Diane!! 

City Girl

My dad's brother, Uncle Raymond, lived on the family farm with his mother in the big house next to his.   They added onto Grandma's when he got married.  It was connected but you had to go outside one house to get to the door of the other.  He and Aunt Betty had 5 children in a house the size of the living room and kitchen of my house.  All the kids slept in one bedroom, girls and boys, and on the other side of the closet Uncle Raymond and Aunt Betty had their bedroom.  Thank goodness bunk beds were invented!  In the kitchen was a sink, stove, refrigerator, and the slop pail, where all the garbage was put.  They dumped it every day or two, by dumping it in with their pigs.  Oh, by the way, the building for the pigs, chickens, and everything except the cows was only 2 car lengths away from their front door.  Anyway, the kitchen table was in the living room, two couches, a television, and a couple of very small kids chairs.  This was the second room of the house and the bathroom was next to the kitchen table.  Get the picture?  Tiny house.  We would go down to see them regularly and in the months of nice weather we usually ate outside.  The cow barns and silo were just across the driveway.  Well, I must confess, I am a true city girl, because eating outside across from the animal barns that held heaps of smelly, stinky, foul fresh steamy manure, did nothing to excite my appetite!  Even when we were in the house, it was the same fragrance, eud'de la poop!  When I would go get a glass of water--there was that ever so delightful slop bucket, OH YUM!  I did not mind going there to visit, but to eat was not pleasant.  A thought just came to me, if I ate all my meals there I would be much thinner today, now I think of that, too late.  When the corn crib was empty, or almost empty, that was where we played.  Falling, which I do allot, was painful.  The corn on those cobs were not as soft as when they were boiled to eat.  Lets just say this is where Iencountered my first mouse or maybe it was a rat.  To a little city girl, they are both traumatizing.  So playing there I was always tense, a little stressed out.  In the winter the smell was not as bad.  They had a ski-doo and the manure pile was like a mountain covered in snow and ice.  Oh, what fun times, but not for me.  The kids would ride the snow machine around the field again and again and again, then up and down the steep poop pile.  My question was, once you rode around the field once or twice, what was out there to see?  City girl!!  It was not my thing to get 20 layers of clothes on, go out in the freezing cold to get my face wind whipped and chapped to make circles in a field or ride up a pile of crap to have fun!  But my sister and my cousins were enchanted by this routine.  If I went into the house to sit, I was told not to be such a baby, get outside and play.  Sometimes I would just set on the porch steps and wait to go home and get warm.  I could have visited my grandma, but she was not so congenial, or pleasant, or friendly, like my mom's mother who lived with us.  Even Uncle Raymond said he enjoyed my mom's mother more than his own mom.  His mother did not have one gene in her DNA that held even a glimmer of humor.  There were plenty of genes in her that screamed ornery, crotchety, disagreeable etc..  This farm life was not my fragrance of life.  Check another career choice off my list!!

Water baby

My parents would take my sister and I to go swimming, probably at Quaniccasse.  This was out on the bay I think, but I wasn't old enough to remember the location.  It really doesn't matter where because it is the same story each and every time I entered the water.  Well yes, including every swimming pool I set foot into.  What I can remember is that none of us could swim in our family, is it not ironic then to adventure into something you know absolutely nothing about?  Someone bought Diane and I new floating air mattress'.  I believe that is what they were known as back in the 50's.  Mine was bright yellow on one side and a pretty blue on the other.  They helped us to float by laying across the middle of the air mattress.  Dad might not have been as excited as we were, because he had to blow them up for us.  Anyway, Di and I were in the water playing on our new floaty, then she shows me that she can reach across and grab her foot.  So I did the same thing.  She proceeded to show me how she can grab both her feet with both her hands, and ask me to do the same.  Guess what, I could do it too!  Ooops!!!  Being so small, I slide around and under my floaty, which put my head completely under water.  Glub, glub, glub....Then I let go of the air mattress and sunk to the bottom.  It must not have been all that deep, because I could see Diane above the water looking down at me and laughing so hard.  Under water my brain short circuits and my mind is blank.  Next thing I know, my dad is jerking me up out of the water and carrying me to the shore.  As I am coughing, choking, spitting, and the such, my folks keep asking if I'm alright.  Well hell no!!  Does this sound like my usual behavior??  What just happened??  Now I have buggers coming out my mouth,  did my nose fall off??  Boy, my new phobia is water, guess why!!  That's right you could get hurt!  My sister continued to play in the water the rest of the afternoon, but I was very comfortable on the towel playing in the safe sand.  Well, so I thought, being fair complected and a red head only complicated my life more.  Because we were out there most of the day, I acquired severe sunburns and sun stroke.  Man was I sick and cooked medium rare, which hurts ALLOT!!!!  Beach bum was checked off the list of future career choices.  There are phases of sunburn and sun stroke.  First the stroke gets you by giving you a high fever and severe vomiting.  Then the next day you can look forward to crying when clothes touched any of the burns.  My skin was as red as my hair.  It get interesting now, because here comes the vinegar baths causing your teeth to chatter so fast you cannot complain about the burning.  Wait it's not over, the blistering comes next.  Followed by the peeling like a snake.  How is swimming fun?  My tolerance for pain, and patience for healing is increasing.  After this experience, when anyone mentioned going swimming, lets just say I never was one to jump up and down to participate.

My little pony

Talking about the fair reminded me of a time we went and I got to ride the ponies.  My sister must not have been there that day.  To a 4 or 5 year old the ponies look big up close.  To an adult they look pretty small and harmless.  This day I was going to ride the ponies, even if I was afraid!  So this big greasey looking unshaved mean man lifted me up and sat me on a pony.  The ponies started to walk in a circle, when all of a sudden, my pony nipped me.  It nipped me again! Again!  Did it know I was afraid of him?  Did he know I was a little helpless girl?  Then I started to cry and each time I would pass my parents I yelled get me off!!  The mean man came over to the side of my pony, only I thought he was going to take me off, when in a very gruff and deep voice he told me to shut up!!!  Then he told me in that same deep gruff voice that I was alright nobody was trying to kill me!!  What??  I could get killed? Why was he being such a nasty man, maybe he was having a bad day.  Well, so was I!!  He made me really want off, but now I was afraind to say anything to anyone.  To me, that ride lasted an eternity, but was actually maybe 5 minutes.  When he came over to me to take me down, my eyes were as big as flying saucers.  I didn't know if he was gonig to yell again or hit me or what.  I was petrified stiff and could barely walk back to my parents.  Who seemed to be oblivious as to above details.  To this day I think horses, what ever size, are a beautiful animal, but I don't want to get within a hundred yards of one.  Needless to say, I did not ride another ride that day.  Is it a wonder that all my years growing up, I was not an adventure-ist and would say, "I do not want to do that because I could get hurt."  Thank gooness we don't use horses for transportation on a daily basis today or I would stay home and never travel anywhere.

Terror at the fair

My parents were big on going to the various fairs in the area.  My sister and I were given one choice of a treat.  Diane always wanted a candy apple and I always wanted cotton candy.  Sounds great, except, all she ate of her candy apple was the candy.  The apple was yukey and she would not eat it!  On the other hand I would slowly take a small piece of cotton candy and let it melt on my tongue, turn into delicous cherry flavored sugar.  YUM!  Well, hold on.  Diane would try to take some of my fluffy treat because hers was gone so fast.  When I would complain to my folks, they would say to give her some.  Why?  She didn't share with me?  I was told not to be so selfish.  If I didn't share they would take my cotton candy away, if it would cause a fight, take away from the good, wise child.  Fair?  NO!  So I would tell her to take just a little.  Diane's evil brown eyes would light up and she grabed a big hunk, laughing. Ha, ha, haha!  Man, this used to burn the calories right out of me.  We also were allowed to pick 2 rides to go on.  We?  Diane being 6 years older did not want to go on the rides I liked, nice, easy, safe rides.  The rule, if we fought over what to ride we rode nothing.  So I was always pressured by Diane and her evil brown eyes, to ride her choices.  I hated this situation.  I was the one who suffered at home if she didn't get her way!  So, with tears in my eyes and a tiff lower lip, I rode the Ferris wheel.  Is it a wonder I now have a deathly fear of heights?  Once we got on, a bar was locked in front of us.  This ride is not child friendly, neither was my sister.  There is nothing else to hold you in the seat.  Do you know what a big gap there is under that bar?  Did you know my feet didn't come close to reaching the foot platform?  Did you know that my sister loved to terrorize me?  She would deliberately rock that Ferris wheel seat and it seemed like it could tip.  I would scream stop rocking, which only fueled her desire to scare me to death.  When, and if you ever rode a Ferris wheel, you know at some point, your seat gets it's turn at the top to stop when at the bottom they are loading and unloading other carts.  This was the highlight of the whole trip, for Diane!  The height, so to speak, of the taunting.  It never has been made clear to me why Diane hated me so much when I was younger.  Now, she is so loving towards me, and I am not sure when we turned that corner either.  Oh ya, the other ride we took was call the hurricane, need I say more?  Her other choice, if one of these were not available, was the tilt-a-whirl.  The Lord must have had work for me to do,  because He blessed me to survive my childhood.

Help!!??!!

When I was 3 years old, my parentstold me it was time to sleep upstairs with my sister. In the middle of the night sometimes I had to use the restroom. Of course, I was afraid of the dark, so I needed my sister to assist in my distress.  Some people don't like to be woke up or don't wake up ever in a good mood.  Such is the case with my sister.  Was it easier to face my afraid of the dark demons or the demon my sister turned into when I would ask her to take me to the bathroom?  Since I could not reach any light switch it seemed to me a neccessity, at the time.  She would push and pull me back as we walked, as we were going down the stairs, always telling me I was a pain in her, well you know.  Many nights I thought I would fall down the steps, it's a wonder I could hold my bladder or other matter.  The light in our bathroom was a pull string about 2 feet too high for me to reach, and the toilet paper roll was at least 2 feet higher when I was standing which was too high when I was on the toilet.  Needless to say I needed help anyway.  After we dafely made it to the toilet, she would put me up on the seat and then the demon really came out.  She would laugh as she turned out the lights (all the lights) and run back up the stairs to bed.  This must have been how I learned patience, because I would just sit there and cry.  Actually it was a series of sniffles.  Mom and dad's bedroom was too far away and they were both hard of hearing anyway.  Thank the Lord grandma lived with us or visa versa.  She would hear my sniffles of dispare and get up to check it out.  Now, it was not easy for grandma to walk but, she would come to get me some toilet paper so I could wipe my butt.  Then she always told me I could sleep with her.  She didn't mind helping me to the bathroom, or at least she never let on that she had.  Well I should tell you grandma wasn't a real small woman and she slept in a single bed.  That was ok because she put me between her and the wall.  It was a safe place in that gap between the mattress and the wall.  Safe because my sister could not get to me, and safe because I knew I could not fall to the floor lying in that gap, grandma was laying on the mattress and it was going nowhere!

Space- star date 1959!

We used to have family reunions at our house.  The village park was across the street and it had swings, tennis court, a small slide, and a hugh 14 foot high (or more) slide that had dips on it when you slid down.  Across the street the other way was a Lutheran school with some play equipment and a big baseball field.  So there was much to entertain every age group.  One reunion, the very first one I can remember, I was about 4 years old.  All the cousins decided it would be fun to see if we could all get on the tetter-totter at the same time.  Someone put me on one end behind the big metal handle bar and told me to hang on tight.  Either the tetter-totter was to big for me or my legs were to short to wrap them under the totter, or both.  Anyway all I had to keep me on was my strongest 4 year old grip.  We started out very carefully, up and down, with maybe 8 to 10 people on each end.  Then we progessed to each end hitting the ground to give the other end a good jolt.  This was when I wasn't having fun any more.  When I asked to get off, I was told to be quiet.  So I tried to hang in thereand really tried to hang on for dear life.  Well that didn't work!  One of my brillant cousins thought he could give our end a bigger bump by jumping off!  Needless to say that made the other end too heavy and they went down like a ton of bricks.  Everything happened so fast!  It was my first solo flight into space.  All I remember was the sailing through the air over the totter and then waking up in bed at home.  They told me that when I came down my head hit the cement around the totter.  Lucky for me the village undertaker was driving past the park to witness the launch.  He parked quickly, ran over check my pluse, and was probably dissapointed it wasn't a business call, I was alive.  Bleeding, but alive.  So he picked up that lifeless 4year old and carried me home.  It makes me wonder what my mom was thinking when she saw the undertaker bringing me home.  Well I was in trouble again.  What was I thinking getting on the totter with all the older kids?  Why didn't I hang onto the handle bar?  So many questions made my head hurt, or was it the cement?  Really, I never planned for that to happen.  This could account for my wierd sense of humor, being asked such stupid questions every time I got hurt.  It was nice to live and share this small brick from my life.   

Pinch & Poke- Bad Day

One day we went to visit my mom's Aunt Iddie.  Mom's sister and youngest daughter rode along with mom, my sister and myself.  We had a 1955 Chevy two door.  Upon arrival everyone exited with me bringing up the rear.  As I was almost out of the car my sister (I'm sure it must have been an accident) slammed the car door shut.  The problem was, my finger was stuck in the door of the car.  It was smashed and sooo painful I could not utter even a wimper.  Patiently standing there in disbelief, with tears flooding my chubby red checks, I waited until someone finally missed me.  Let's just say taking a head count was not first on their agenda!  Mom came out and yelled at me for not telling someone my finger waas caught.  Believe me, if I could have spoken or moved to tell them I was stuck wouldn't you think I would?  How did I get in trouble?  Well Aunt Iddie took me into the bathroom to bandage my boo-boo.  Then I was told to go outside and play.  So I found my sister and my cousin that came with us and started to play whatever they were playing.  Being 6 years younger than them, they did not want me around.  At that time I was maybe 6 or 7 years old.  So they thought of a way to get rid of me.  Boy was it good - for them not me!  All along the side of Aunt Iddie's house she had these picker bushes with pickers about an inch to inch and a half long.  Each bush had thousands of pickers each!  So they pushed me backwards into those bushes.  I hit my head on the siding of the house along with my first treatment of acupuncture.  Those pickers were not only looong but sharper than a needle, thus easily poking right through my cotton shorts and short sleeve blouse.  Of course, I don't know how you get up from falling backwards into picker bushes, but I found it very hard to move.  There wasn't a safe place to push off from with my hands.  So I had to actually push my hands into some pickers to be able to turn over and stand up.  Needless to say, my sister and cousin ran off and suddenly disappeared like magic.  It took gusts to walk calmly back into the house and ask for help.  The silly question was, "why were you playing in those bushes?"  Again I was in trouble, causing trouble, disrupting the adult visitation.  Another trip into Aunt Iddie's bathroom to get iodine and bandaids all over my body.  Don't believe them when they say it isn't going to hurt, HA!  This was when I decided to spend the rest of my visit on the couch, I had seen enough of Aunt Iddie's bathroom!  When I had to pee, I did not need to ask if I could go , nor did I need to ask for directions to the bathroom I was a veteran of sitting on the one seater.  It was nice to visit it alone for a change.  You could say it was a bad day.

Got the point

At about 3 years old, my family went to spend the weekend at a cabin on a lake with my dad's brother's family.  It was proably the first time I saw a bigger body of water than the bathtub.  It was a little intimidating!  My cousin Kay and I were going to follow our dads to the lake.  We thought it was alright to walk through the small section of trees and high grass, after all we could see our dads on the shore.  Well I believe this may have been the time I realized everything seems to happen to me.  As we were trying to walk through the tall grass we suddenly fell in a BIG hole.  Which would have been o.k. if it was not the hugh hive of bees!!!!  We had on only our bathing suits.  They were stinging so fast and it hurt so bad, all I could do was swat the ones on me.  My cousin at least screamed, I for once, was afraid to open my mouth because of the bees.  Our dads came running (my hero) and grabbed our arms, running toward the lake.  All I could think was , why are we not going to the cabin?  My first encounter with the lake!! Hello water!!  They dunked us up and down in that water I could not count the times.  I was to busy choking!!  Then my uncle grabbed me without saying a word and took my bathing suit off right there!  He always chewed tobbacco and he started to put that slimmy, stinky wet brown crap all over me.  YUK!  Little did I know, I wass severely allergic to bees.  I lokked like an over grown tree toad, only with more bumps.  My cousin did not have one bump.  Guess what, tobbacco stains! So now I looked like a speckaled toad.  So you could say I got the point!!

Road rage?

In my family there is my sister, who is 6 years older then me, and myself.  When I was maybe 8 or 9 months old, my sister, Diane wanted to take her baby sister for a walk.  Mom put in my blue metal stroller.  I remember it had a wooden handle you could hang on to, or chew.  There also was a long metal dowel that had muticolored wood beads on so I could entertain myself by spinning them.  Wow, surprise, it really did entertain me, by spinning them.  Could that have had an effect on my repeated bouts of vertigo today?  Let's hope not.  Diane started puching  the stroller down our long dirt driveway ever so carefully.  When Di went in the house for a drink of water, Mom asked where I was.  Her reply was simply, in the road.  We lived in a small town, but the road we lived on was the second busiest next to mainstreet.  Mainstreet was a highway called M-81.  Mom was a little excited to say the least.  She ordered Di to go get me, but Dianes question was WHY?  She wanted Mom to return me to Sears and Roebucks,  She didn't want me anymore.  So starts the bricks of my life.

Before reading

When reading any of these blogs, please prepare your area.  You may need to use pull-ups if excessive laughter overcomes you.  The blogger will not be responsible for any damage to clothes or chairs in the flood of uncontrolable spurts of humor.  With that understood, hope you will enjoy my sporatic memories of my life.  Each life is built upon bricks of various experiences that help to develope who we are.  They help to form our personalities in this life.  When you finish reading my blogs it will help you to discover what or who I really am, or not.  So if you are ready, set back relax