Whew! Its official! Christmas 2008 is over except for the store returns. I didn't do too badly this year...only a few things have to go back.
I really really tried to keep it down this year to a 'reasonable' amount of gifts. The problem is, my 'reasonable' may not be the next guys. I do the best I can.
We all went out to the beach house for a few days to test it out and see if we could survive the close quarters. It went well. The house lends itself to many little pockets of activity. If any one of us had had about enough togetherness, we could find a place to hide for awhile. The weather was lousy most of the time. The sun didn't come out until the last day. We did have a pinochle tournament and I'm proud to say Stephanie's and my team came in second place. I do believe the cards were rigged though. We shoulda been first.
On day two I tried to maim myself. Stephanie had asked me for something that I happened to have in the car, so I volunteered to go get it. The problem started when I chose NOT to get dressed first. I was in my Sponge Bob Squarepants jammies with fuzzy Ugg style boots. I figured no one would see me, so I stealthily worked my way outside in the rain. As I closed the door of the car after retrieving said item, I heard the unmistakable sound of a car engine coming up the street. I scurried (or tried to) up the concrete steps and on the third step I slipped. I hit both knees, my hand and my lip (of all things). I had a mental flash of having to go to the hospital in my Sponge Bob pants with a fat lip and a broken leg. I think I said a really bad word.
Luckily I was just bruised and scratched. I've tried milking it for sympathy but the family will not comply. I do have a great bruise all the way down my right shin that I'm willing to show to anyone who feigns an interest. When I hit my lip I was rather hoping I would knock out one or both of my front caps. They really need replacing. When they were put in well over 35 years ago the dentist said they would need to be replaced in 5 years. They are 'on the list'. Oh well...
My brother Dick pointed out to me that I had misspelled his wife Katherine's name. There is some irony in that because I named my first daughter after her (Amy Catherine). I know how its spelled. I changed the first letter for Amy just to be a little different. I just had a brain knot. Those happen more and more these days. Soon I'll have macrame' knots for a brain. (That's a really dumb joke - but it's all I got.)
I hope everyone had a good holiday and will be safe for New Years. I love you all.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
David
In many ways, talking about my twin brother David is harder than writing about my other brothers. I thought of us as a unit when I was a kid, because we were always referred to under the collective term "the twins". We were always together. We played together, we watched cartoons together - we even had our little imaginary friends together. We named them Picky and Bozo. I realize now that we must have been referring to Pinky Lee and Bozo the clown.
I remember my mother making us "matching' outfits of a shirt for David and a dress for me out of the same fabric. I was convinced that when we dressed alike no one could tell us apart - the twins on tv all looked alike so we must also. I thought the only difference between us was that I had long hair. (I didn't consider that other difference at that young age.) After the neighbor girls cut my hair I tried to make my mom feel better by saying "Well, at least now no one will be able to tell David and me apart!". I don't think it worked.
David is an incredible musician. We both began music lessons with Clyde Heck when we were about 12 years old. (I had taken piano earlier, but that didn't work out.) David learned the drums and I learned (or tried to learn) guitar. It didn't work out for me, but David took to it like a fish to water. He started playing with an accordion group first (hooray for the Polka!) and then started a garage band. Over the years he has continued to play and still does to this day with all sorts of different music groups from country to reggae to blues and rock.
Back in the day before electronic drumming, the guy keeping the beat was key to a bands' success. Once at a high school talent show David's band at the time played and rocked the house. A newspaper article ran a picture of David and commented on his 13 minute drum solo!
David also got all the artistic talent. From a very young age he could duplicate cartoon characters while I was stuck on stick figures. It seemed to be one of those things that just came naturally for him and he was constantly drawing.
He also has a natural mechanical ability. He was always working on cars, and I don't recall anyone ever teaching him how. He just did it. For several years he made a living as a mechanic. He is currently self-employed as a contractor. As with other things he's been involved with or done over the years, his work is meticulous.
He married Debbie Boyer right after she graduated from high school. They had two children, Chad and Jenny. The marriage didn't work out and he later met and married Fran. For several years Dave and Fran ran a small restaurant/wine bar in downtown Ventura. They sold that business a few years ago.
As with my older brothers, I've barely scratched the surface of who David is. I think it's going to take me a lot longer than I originally thought so I'm going to intersperse stories about our family with posts about my day-today stuff.
(the picture at the top of the page is my brother Jim, Grandmother Mabel Stewart, Bill, Dick, David and me)
Baby, its cold outside...
I'm going to take a short break in my brother introductions to talk about the weather. That's right...I said weather. At the moment its 17 degrees outside and dropping. That's just wrong on so many levels. There is an inch of solid ice on the roads (or more) and snow in all the yards. Even the beach had snow (this pic is my yard in Lincoln City, the beach one shows the snow on the hill above the beach - it had already melted off the sand by the time I got there.)
My feet are cold and my lips are dry.
OK, enough whining. Time to get to the next post.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Wow! I hadn't realized it had been nearly 2 weeks since I posted last! I guess the Christmas shopping season is taking more of my time than I thought. I have a love/hate relationship with Christmas, but I'll talk about that another day.Today I want to talk about my brother Richard.
Even saying 'Richard' sounds funny to me. My brother is and always has been Dickie to me. I suppose I sometimes call him Dick in front of other people, but he's 'Dickie". Dick was born September 10, 1943 - 18 months after Bill. (See, I'm trying to act grown up and take the 'ie' off both brother's names.)
Dick was the kind of kid who always brought home the stray dogs. I remember Ginger best of all. Dang she was a good and smart dog! As happened with many of our animals, she got hit by a car on Victoria Ave. It was a sad day for all of us.
I think Dick and I are the most alike temperamentally. We are both pragmatic. We can usually see both sides of an argument. We are generally non-reactive in many situations, preferring to consider all our options. We probably would have both been good counselors or psychologists.
Dick is also a protector of family, friends, and extended family. He's the kind of guy who will take on the practical task of paying bills or fighting with insurance companies on behalf of someone else when they are ill. He's the guy you call with a tax question or in many cases to do your taxes. He has been with Bill every step of his illness and recovery, taking over and acting as an advocate for Bill - pushing the envelope with doctors and health care workers to get the best possible response for his brother. Now THAT is love.
Dick married Kathryn Louise Beaver on August 9, 1962. He was 18, almost 19. She was 16. They have two children, Tammy and Rick. Dick worked for the State of California as a land surveyor and also at our parents liquor store to help make ends meet. They bought a house after a few years of marriage and still live in it to this day.
Dick developed a significant drinking problem during the early years of his marriage that colors a lot of the memories of those times. After a health scare nearly 20 years ago, he quit drinking entirely. As I mentioned we are very alike in temperament and both have "addictive" persona lites (try and take my diet coke and lose a hand!) His current 'addiction' is spending time at the Indian Casino. He enjoys it very much and so does Kathy. Thankfully, the only health concern with the casino is second hand smoke, which most of the time you can avoid.
Since our parents died, Dick's home has become my 'home base' in California. Partly because its nearest to where we grew up, but also because of the hospitality he and Kathy have offered me and my family.
I'm proud of my brother for the challenges he overcame, it wasn't easy. I look up to him with love, respect and admiration.
-more later.
Even saying 'Richard' sounds funny to me. My brother is and always has been Dickie to me. I suppose I sometimes call him Dick in front of other people, but he's 'Dickie". Dick was born September 10, 1943 - 18 months after Bill. (See, I'm trying to act grown up and take the 'ie' off both brother's names.)
Dick was the kind of kid who always brought home the stray dogs. I remember Ginger best of all. Dang she was a good and smart dog! As happened with many of our animals, she got hit by a car on Victoria Ave. It was a sad day for all of us.
I think Dick and I are the most alike temperamentally. We are both pragmatic. We can usually see both sides of an argument. We are generally non-reactive in many situations, preferring to consider all our options. We probably would have both been good counselors or psychologists.
Dick is also a protector of family, friends, and extended family. He's the kind of guy who will take on the practical task of paying bills or fighting with insurance companies on behalf of someone else when they are ill. He's the guy you call with a tax question or in many cases to do your taxes. He has been with Bill every step of his illness and recovery, taking over and acting as an advocate for Bill - pushing the envelope with doctors and health care workers to get the best possible response for his brother. Now THAT is love.
Dick married Kathryn Louise Beaver on August 9, 1962. He was 18, almost 19. She was 16. They have two children, Tammy and Rick. Dick worked for the State of California as a land surveyor and also at our parents liquor store to help make ends meet. They bought a house after a few years of marriage and still live in it to this day.
Dick developed a significant drinking problem during the early years of his marriage that colors a lot of the memories of those times. After a health scare nearly 20 years ago, he quit drinking entirely. As I mentioned we are very alike in temperament and both have "addictive" persona lites (try and take my diet coke and lose a hand!) His current 'addiction' is spending time at the Indian Casino. He enjoys it very much and so does Kathy. Thankfully, the only health concern with the casino is second hand smoke, which most of the time you can avoid.
Since our parents died, Dick's home has become my 'home base' in California. Partly because its nearest to where we grew up, but also because of the hospitality he and Kathy have offered me and my family.
I'm proud of my brother for the challenges he overcame, it wasn't easy. I look up to him with love, respect and admiration.
-more later.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Following suit as I have been so far, its time to talk about my brother Bill. William. Billie to me even if he is old enough for Medicare. Since Jim was away in the Navy, Bill stepped into the big brother role very naturally. My brother Dick is just 18 months younger than Bill so they have always been very close. My earliest memories of Billie seem to be of him cleaning the house. I believe I mentioned earlier that mom chose other pursuits and Billie had a need for order. By the way, he is very good at cleaning. I was jealous of Bill and Dick when they were allowed to got to "Teen Time", a dance held at the school for teenagers in the neighborhood. I wanted to go to the party, too! I can remember standing on the porch of our house looking miserably after them as they rode their bikes off to the dance. Billie was 9 when David and I were born. The same age I was when Bill's first child was born. More of that later.
Somewhere around the age of 10, Bill fell out of a tree and broke both of his arms. Family lore has it that someone ran home and told mom that Billie had broken his neck. She hurdled a very high fence (mom was barely 5'1") and got to him in a hurry. There are some great pictures in the family album of Billie with casts on both arms grinning. with all the neighborhood kids around him.
Bill married Linda very young and had a son right away, followed shortly by a daughter and then another son. A fourth son was born in 1969. The marriage ended when the children where teenagers. He later married Diane in 1983.
When I think of my brother Bill I think first of his wry sense of humor. He's just downright funny. Over the years he has proven his ability with home projects and has great pride in his home. He has done beautiful and meticulous work.
In the last few years Billie has faced some very difficult health problems. His dear wife Diane and brother Dick have been with him every step of the way. Sadly, because of the distance, I'm not able to be with him as much as I would like, but he's never far from my thoughts. I spent some time with him shortly after his first surgeries. I knew my brother was on the road back when he started cracking jokes. Really silly jokes. Just the kind a kid sister loves to hear.
He's come so far, and I am fiercely proud of him. It's possible he won't be able to do some of the things he had hoped to do at this time of his life and that's disappointing. But he's here with us, and he is greatly loved.
More later.
Somewhere around the age of 10, Bill fell out of a tree and broke both of his arms. Family lore has it that someone ran home and told mom that Billie had broken his neck. She hurdled a very high fence (mom was barely 5'1") and got to him in a hurry. There are some great pictures in the family album of Billie with casts on both arms grinning. with all the neighborhood kids around him.
Bill married Linda very young and had a son right away, followed shortly by a daughter and then another son. A fourth son was born in 1969. The marriage ended when the children where teenagers. He later married Diane in 1983.
When I think of my brother Bill I think first of his wry sense of humor. He's just downright funny. Over the years he has proven his ability with home projects and has great pride in his home. He has done beautiful and meticulous work.
In the last few years Billie has faced some very difficult health problems. His dear wife Diane and brother Dick have been with him every step of the way. Sadly, because of the distance, I'm not able to be with him as much as I would like, but he's never far from my thoughts. I spent some time with him shortly after his first surgeries. I knew my brother was on the road back when he started cracking jokes. Really silly jokes. Just the kind a kid sister loves to hear.
He's come so far, and I am fiercely proud of him. It's possible he won't be able to do some of the things he had hoped to do at this time of his life and that's disappointing. But he's here with us, and he is greatly loved.
More later.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I've written a little about Daddy and Mom. I'll just go down the brother list now, one at a time starting with my brother James. Jimmy to me, now and always - Jimmy.The definition of "big brother". On the day I was born, Jimmy graduated from Ventura High School. I'm not exactly sure how he felt about being pushed to the side on that very important day in a young man's life. If he resented us choosing that day to emerge, we never knew.
The fact that Jimmy graduated at all was a minor family miracle. In his elementary school days, he simply decided school was no longer a need in his life so he quit going. Perhaps he was acting out since dad had remarried and added 2 new brothers to the family by that time. Regardless of the reasons, he simply quit. He has told of some of the methods he would use to leave school in those days, all of which were hilarious to me. Perhaps he'll write of those sometime. I wish he would I'm sure I can't do them justice. After a visit to Juvenile Hall - Juvi as we called it - he decided perhaps school wasn't as bad as jail. Mom used to joke that once he went back to school he wouldn't quit. Jimmy is the first college graduate in the family for as far back as I have researched.
Jimmy went into the navy not too long after graduation at the same time as our cousin Ben Walters. Since Jim was away in the navy, I don't have many memories of him in my youngest years but I do remember the family driving to San Francisco to pick him up when he got out of service. My aunt Alma (who scared the bejesus out of me - she was a MEAN woman.) lived there with her husband. Her daughters and their families lived nearby. One of the extended cousins was named Sherry. She was everything a 5-year-old Debby thought of as cool. She was my age, but she lived in the city. At least she was cool until I thought MY big brother Jimmy paid her more attention than me. Ah yes, my first experience with jealousy. I don't recall how it was resolved, but I probably whined or sulked until I got the proper amount of attention.
Jimmy and his dear wife Gloria were a big part of my early teen years. They would allow me to visit their home (first in Ojai, then in Exeter California). For a week or two at a time. I always felt welcome in their home. They always allowed me to bring a friend if I wanted to. It was my time away from the sameness of parents who worked all the time, and also a look at how a traditional family could function. I learned a lot from both of them, way too much to list here. I am forever grateful. I didn't realize at the time what a challenge it must have been to have me there, but I never felt it if there were problems. I only felt loved and protected. I also got to be with my nieces, and later my nephew. I cherish those times to this day.
My brother Jimmy is above all else a good man. He has a sense of humor that is legendary. He also has a bit of a temper that is also legendary. I recall a look on his face when I was a child and he came CHARGING out of the bathroom with a newspaper in his hand ready to KILL! It seems my brother Dick has chosen an..uh...inopportune time to set off a firecracker right outside the bathroom window. I can still see his face....eyes bulging, breathing fire and looking for Dickie to do him bodily harm.
Ah, good times.
As with my other posts, this one just scratches the surface. I hope to fill in a lot of details as I go along. Have a great day.
The fact that Jimmy graduated at all was a minor family miracle. In his elementary school days, he simply decided school was no longer a need in his life so he quit going. Perhaps he was acting out since dad had remarried and added 2 new brothers to the family by that time. Regardless of the reasons, he simply quit. He has told of some of the methods he would use to leave school in those days, all of which were hilarious to me. Perhaps he'll write of those sometime. I wish he would I'm sure I can't do them justice. After a visit to Juvenile Hall - Juvi as we called it - he decided perhaps school wasn't as bad as jail. Mom used to joke that once he went back to school he wouldn't quit. Jimmy is the first college graduate in the family for as far back as I have researched.
Jimmy went into the navy not too long after graduation at the same time as our cousin Ben Walters. Since Jim was away in the navy, I don't have many memories of him in my youngest years but I do remember the family driving to San Francisco to pick him up when he got out of service. My aunt Alma (who scared the bejesus out of me - she was a MEAN woman.) lived there with her husband. Her daughters and their families lived nearby. One of the extended cousins was named Sherry. She was everything a 5-year-old Debby thought of as cool. She was my age, but she lived in the city. At least she was cool until I thought MY big brother Jimmy paid her more attention than me. Ah yes, my first experience with jealousy. I don't recall how it was resolved, but I probably whined or sulked until I got the proper amount of attention.
Jimmy and his dear wife Gloria were a big part of my early teen years. They would allow me to visit their home (first in Ojai, then in Exeter California). For a week or two at a time. I always felt welcome in their home. They always allowed me to bring a friend if I wanted to. It was my time away from the sameness of parents who worked all the time, and also a look at how a traditional family could function. I learned a lot from both of them, way too much to list here. I am forever grateful. I didn't realize at the time what a challenge it must have been to have me there, but I never felt it if there were problems. I only felt loved and protected. I also got to be with my nieces, and later my nephew. I cherish those times to this day.
My brother Jimmy is above all else a good man. He has a sense of humor that is legendary. He also has a bit of a temper that is also legendary. I recall a look on his face when I was a child and he came CHARGING out of the bathroom with a newspaper in his hand ready to KILL! It seems my brother Dick has chosen an..uh...inopportune time to set off a firecracker right outside the bathroom window. I can still see his face....eyes bulging, breathing fire and looking for Dickie to do him bodily harm.
Ah, good times.
As with my other posts, this one just scratches the surface. I hope to fill in a lot of details as I go along. Have a great day.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Wow! I have an actual 'follower"....(thanks, Fran!) Now the pressure is mounting to actually write something more often than semi-annually.
I wrote about my dad in my last post, now I want to think about my mom.
Whew! That's really difficult to do without tearing up. My earliest memories of mom are probably of her working in the yard. I can remember David and I sitting in the dirt making houses and roads (piles of dirt with lines drawn in it). We always had little cars around and would play and play. I'm aware that mom was there, but mostly David and I were in our play-world.
When I was about 4, the kids next door (Rosie and Dory Brown) and I decided to play barbershop. I always wanted my hair to look like Kathy Moon's hair. She must have kept it behind her ears..I'm a little iffy on those details...and it seemed the most logical thing for my "barbers" to cut the hair over my ears short. So they did.
Now keep in mind I was the first female Stewart born in50 years...I thought I was a princess, and no one said or did anything to make me believe otherwise. It was somewhat important for me to embrace my femininity. So I joyfully ran home to show mom my hair that looked "just like Kathy's". I can imagine my mom's shock when her little girl runs into the house with long hair in the back (yes, it finally was long) and butch hair on both sides. The original mullet hairdo. I remember her voice...very high pitched..."WHAT have you DONE!" The rest is history. I'll post a picture my big brother Jimmy took of me about that time. The only thing she could do was cut the back short and pretend she meant to give me a 'pixie' haircut. One of the most humiliating memories she would share about that period of time was when one of the Filipino grocers at the store down the street asked "Mrs. Stewart! Why is your little BOY wearing a dress?"
Mom was a dreamer of sorts. She was always trying to find ways to help support the family. She was instrumental in building the restaurant she and dad ran. Stewart's Malt Shop was the original name. Later it became Stewart's Restaurant, then diversified into Stewart's Restaurant and S&W Liquors. Finally the restaurant gave way to S&W Liquors and Delicatessen. It was a big deal in California in those days to win a liquor license. If I recall correctly they were awarded by lottery.
Mom was a hard worker. When she and dad squabbled it was usually in trying to determine who was more tired and worn out on any given day. She was a good businesswoman, but housekeeping was never high on the list of must-do list. I took that from her. Its much more important to have fun or do a new project on any given day than to worry about the housework. That will be there tomorrow.
When other people would describe my mom they would say she was the type of person who would give you the shirt off her back, a euphemism for a big and generous heart. She was certainly that, and I hope I got some of that from her, as well. We often had a relative or two living in our home which I think is certainly an example of her big heart. My aunt lived with us for most of my childhood as well as various others from time-to-time.
She loved nothing more than lavishing presents and other things on her children and grandchildren. We were her joy. During my childhood she went to night school and got her GED. Later she studied and got her real estate license. Later still she got a real estate brokers license. About that time she decided she no longer wanted to work in the high pressure world of real estate and went to work as a stocker for Kmart.
My gosh, I've been writing for a long while now and I haven't even scratched the surface of who my mom and dad were. I'll try to work on that in later posts.
Have a great day.
I wrote about my dad in my last post, now I want to think about my mom.
Whew! That's really difficult to do without tearing up. My earliest memories of mom are probably of her working in the yard. I can remember David and I sitting in the dirt making houses and roads (piles of dirt with lines drawn in it). We always had little cars around and would play and play. I'm aware that mom was there, but mostly David and I were in our play-world.
When I was about 4, the kids next door (Rosie and Dory Brown) and I decided to play barbershop. I always wanted my hair to look like Kathy Moon's hair. She must have kept it behind her ears..I'm a little iffy on those details...and it seemed the most logical thing for my "barbers" to cut the hair over my ears short. So they did.
Now keep in mind I was the first female Stewart born in50 years...I thought I was a princess, and no one said or did anything to make me believe otherwise. It was somewhat important for me to embrace my femininity. So I joyfully ran home to show mom my hair that looked "just like Kathy's". I can imagine my mom's shock when her little girl runs into the house with long hair in the back (yes, it finally was long) and butch hair on both sides. The original mullet hairdo. I remember her voice...very high pitched..."WHAT have you DONE!" The rest is history. I'll post a picture my big brother Jimmy took of me about that time. The only thing she could do was cut the back short and pretend she meant to give me a 'pixie' haircut. One of the most humiliating memories she would share about that period of time was when one of the Filipino grocers at the store down the street asked "Mrs. Stewart! Why is your little BOY wearing a dress?"
Mom was a dreamer of sorts. She was always trying to find ways to help support the family. She was instrumental in building the restaurant she and dad ran. Stewart's Malt Shop was the original name. Later it became Stewart's Restaurant, then diversified into Stewart's Restaurant and S&W Liquors. Finally the restaurant gave way to S&W Liquors and Delicatessen. It was a big deal in California in those days to win a liquor license. If I recall correctly they were awarded by lottery.
Mom was a hard worker. When she and dad squabbled it was usually in trying to determine who was more tired and worn out on any given day. She was a good businesswoman, but housekeeping was never high on the list of must-do list. I took that from her. Its much more important to have fun or do a new project on any given day than to worry about the housework. That will be there tomorrow.
When other people would describe my mom they would say she was the type of person who would give you the shirt off her back, a euphemism for a big and generous heart. She was certainly that, and I hope I got some of that from her, as well. We often had a relative or two living in our home which I think is certainly an example of her big heart. My aunt lived with us for most of my childhood as well as various others from time-to-time.
She loved nothing more than lavishing presents and other things on her children and grandchildren. We were her joy. During my childhood she went to night school and got her GED. Later she studied and got her real estate license. Later still she got a real estate brokers license. About that time she decided she no longer wanted to work in the high pressure world of real estate and went to work as a stocker for Kmart.
My gosh, I've been writing for a long while now and I haven't even scratched the surface of who my mom and dad were. I'll try to work on that in later posts.
Have a great day.
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Ahhhh...another lazy Sunday. This blog idea has been good for me. It's kept my mind working all day thinking about what I should write.To say its been a day on memory lane would be a gross understatement. I keep thinking about what I would want my kids to know about me, about what made me the way I am - good, bad or indifferent.
I was born a poor black child....no...wait....that's another story.
How are we shaped as children? Who is to know what makes an impression and what doesn't?
When I think of my dad I get mostly impressions. He didn't talk to me a lot. I don't know if it was because I was a girl or if he was just not a natural talker, I simply don't know. I do know he loved me, even if it was unspoken. I never doubted that for a moment.
My earliest memories of my dad are of some tall guy who came into the house carrying a lunch pail and the first thing he always did was turn down the tv my twin brother and I were glued to. (Yes we had a tv, yes it was black and white). He would go into the kitchen and sit with my mom at the yellow wood table and both would sip coffee, smoke cigarettes and talk. I have no idea what the conversations they had consisted of. My attention was more in tune with Bozo the Clown or Soupy Sails.
Dad was 14 years older than mom. From what I gathered over the years, her family was not pleased at all that the 17 year old was planning to marry the 31 year old man with a 7 year old child. I suspect Dad's parents weren't real pleased with the idea either, but over time they proved it worked. Dad became the patriarch over not only our family, but my mother's sisters and their families as well.
They certainly had their trials but I think the impression that sticks with me most of all is that even though they squabbled, they loved each other passionately. I can recall coming into their room early in the morning while they still slept. Invariably Daddy's arm would be over Mom, or she would have an arm or leg draped over him. They always touched. I don't recall seeing a lot of kissing and hugging when they were in front of us kids, but I know it was there. Public displays of affection were not common in the household.
After my dad passed, I was talking with mom about the future. I made the offhand remark that perhaps she would remarry someday. In my way I was trying to 'help' - to let her know that it would be ok I guess. She exploded. My mother only yelled and me once in my life and that was it. She said "Don't even SUGGEST such a thing!!!!" We never discussed it again.
I do recall one time when I was about five years old. Daddy had made me angry for some reason and the only thing I could think to do was to stick my tongue out at him as he walked towards the garage. You know way a kid will - the tongue and face stuck out, hands on hips and a loud "bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee". He turned on his heel and came back towards me with the strangest look on his face (I realize now he was trying not to laugh). He grabbed my arm and turned me around to take me into the house. As he did so he swatted my butt several times and put me in my room. I was aghast! My daddy had spanked me! I was the princess! How could this be??? To say it made an impression on me is a gross understatement. I still remember it over 50 years later. I made sure never to do anything even remotely like that again. Its the only time I recall getting spanked in my life.
This is getting long, so I'll write more later about my trip down Memory Lane.
Have a good day.
I was born a poor black child....no...wait....that's another story.
How are we shaped as children? Who is to know what makes an impression and what doesn't?
When I think of my dad I get mostly impressions. He didn't talk to me a lot. I don't know if it was because I was a girl or if he was just not a natural talker, I simply don't know. I do know he loved me, even if it was unspoken. I never doubted that for a moment.
My earliest memories of my dad are of some tall guy who came into the house carrying a lunch pail and the first thing he always did was turn down the tv my twin brother and I were glued to. (Yes we had a tv, yes it was black and white). He would go into the kitchen and sit with my mom at the yellow wood table and both would sip coffee, smoke cigarettes and talk. I have no idea what the conversations they had consisted of. My attention was more in tune with Bozo the Clown or Soupy Sails.
Dad was 14 years older than mom. From what I gathered over the years, her family was not pleased at all that the 17 year old was planning to marry the 31 year old man with a 7 year old child. I suspect Dad's parents weren't real pleased with the idea either, but over time they proved it worked. Dad became the patriarch over not only our family, but my mother's sisters and their families as well.
They certainly had their trials but I think the impression that sticks with me most of all is that even though they squabbled, they loved each other passionately. I can recall coming into their room early in the morning while they still slept. Invariably Daddy's arm would be over Mom, or she would have an arm or leg draped over him. They always touched. I don't recall seeing a lot of kissing and hugging when they were in front of us kids, but I know it was there. Public displays of affection were not common in the household.
After my dad passed, I was talking with mom about the future. I made the offhand remark that perhaps she would remarry someday. In my way I was trying to 'help' - to let her know that it would be ok I guess. She exploded. My mother only yelled and me once in my life and that was it. She said "Don't even SUGGEST such a thing!!!!" We never discussed it again.
I do recall one time when I was about five years old. Daddy had made me angry for some reason and the only thing I could think to do was to stick my tongue out at him as he walked towards the garage. You know way a kid will - the tongue and face stuck out, hands on hips and a loud "bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee". He turned on his heel and came back towards me with the strangest look on his face (I realize now he was trying not to laugh). He grabbed my arm and turned me around to take me into the house. As he did so he swatted my butt several times and put me in my room. I was aghast! My daddy had spanked me! I was the princess! How could this be??? To say it made an impression on me is a gross understatement. I still remember it over 50 years later. I made sure never to do anything even remotely like that again. Its the only time I recall getting spanked in my life.
This is getting long, so I'll write more later about my trip down Memory Lane.
Have a good day.
Friday, November 7, 2008
So...its Friday.
The other day I found a series of letters I wrote to my daughter Amy back in the 1990's. It was really interesting reading them because I chronicled all the things that happened to me or to people around me. Most of the things I wrote about I had forgotten, but they were important at the time. I noted how I had helped my now daughter-in-law Beth prepare for her wedding by loaning her my wedding dress and buying her some satin shoes and some pretty little nighties. I remembered the wedding dress, but I completely forgot about the other things. I also talked about a friends family that lost the father of the family to a heart attack. He was 32 years old and had small children. I wonder about those children now. I've lost track of them.
I mentioned how my niece Lori was pregnant and how excited we all were about that. She ended up having Ian in Japan, so we didn't get to meet him for a long while after his birth.
Since that time in the 1990's I've gained 8 grandchildren, several "grand" nieces and nephews and also, sadly lost several family members. My hope with this blog (what in the heck does "blog" mean anyway?) is to chronicle those day-to-day events in a sort of diary format. I've found that the activity of sitting down with pen and journal just isn't going to happen for me, but perhaps this format will.
I hope I don't bore the reader too much.
I mentioned how my niece Lori was pregnant and how excited we all were about that. She ended up having Ian in Japan, so we didn't get to meet him for a long while after his birth.
Since that time in the 1990's I've gained 8 grandchildren, several "grand" nieces and nephews and also, sadly lost several family members. My hope with this blog (what in the heck does "blog" mean anyway?) is to chronicle those day-to-day events in a sort of diary format. I've found that the activity of sitting down with pen and journal just isn't going to happen for me, but perhaps this format will.
I hope I don't bore the reader too much.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
A Bot called Debby
My blog got blocked. It seems that something I did in that first posting made some electronic flag go up. Dang! Maybe this isn't meant to be. Ah well...we'll try again.
I did some shopping today for the beach house. I got some fabric to make some drapes. $1 a yard...wooohoooo. I should explain about the beach house. We don't actually own it yet, but should in a few weeks. Its a 4 bedroom, 2.5 bath, 2 story house with a small yard overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Ok...maybe 'overlooking" is a bit of a stretch because that makes it sound like I can step out the door to the beach. The house is actually 3 blocks from the beach, but up a small hill so the view is amazing (and affordable). Maybe a more important note is the bakery just down the hill on the corner...wooohoooo! Now THAT is important. There is a casino about a mile away, so I'm hoping to get more relatives up here to the Pacific Northwest to visit. There's hiking...fishing ( I assume, afterall there IS an ocean out there)..beachcombing...gambling...shopping at the outlet mall....what more could a happy family want? We will have a complete open door policy for all family members. We are keeping our main house, at least for now - but its only a little over an hour away. I'm hoping this will be great fun, a new chapter in our lives.
The house is old...built about 1938...but its has been very well maintained. Its blue and white, just like a beach house should be. It has a large deck in the front, and a small garage in the basement. I'm hoping the ping pong table will fit in the garage.
For right now, I'm looking forward to weekends there, but come summer I doubt I'll be here much. Thank goodness for cell phones, I'll always be reachable by family.
Enough for now...let me see if this will post.
-Debby
I did some shopping today for the beach house. I got some fabric to make some drapes. $1 a yard...wooohoooo. I should explain about the beach house. We don't actually own it yet, but should in a few weeks. Its a 4 bedroom, 2.5 bath, 2 story house with a small yard overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Ok...maybe 'overlooking" is a bit of a stretch because that makes it sound like I can step out the door to the beach. The house is actually 3 blocks from the beach, but up a small hill so the view is amazing (and affordable). Maybe a more important note is the bakery just down the hill on the corner...wooohoooo! Now THAT is important. There is a casino about a mile away, so I'm hoping to get more relatives up here to the Pacific Northwest to visit. There's hiking...fishing ( I assume, afterall there IS an ocean out there)..beachcombing...gambling...shopping at the outlet mall....what more could a happy family want? We will have a complete open door policy for all family members. We are keeping our main house, at least for now - but its only a little over an hour away. I'm hoping this will be great fun, a new chapter in our lives.
The house is old...built about 1938...but its has been very well maintained. Its blue and white, just like a beach house should be. It has a large deck in the front, and a small garage in the basement. I'm hoping the ping pong table will fit in the garage.
For right now, I'm looking forward to weekends there, but come summer I doubt I'll be here much. Thank goodness for cell phones, I'll always be reachable by family.
Enough for now...let me see if this will post.
-Debby
Monday, October 27, 2008
So this is blogging
Ok...here we go. This is my new blog. I'm still unclear on what exactly a blog is, but I'm going to do it anyway.
I wrote a few times on my aol site, but that site is going away. I'll probably cut/paste those things here.
Lets try that now...
7:29:08 PM EDT
Feeling Cranky
Baby, it's cold outside.
Wow. What a crummy day. Its cold outside. Every bad driver in the city was out today and trying to kill me. The fact that I was out today may or may not include me in the bad driver group. I'd like to think not, but I have a fairly high opinion of my own driving, so I can't be objective.
I finished my first week babysitting the girls. I'm afraid I'm desperate for things to share with people, because I find myself repeating everything the little darlings say. If only inflection could be adequately related in the re-telling. I'm sure everyone would understand the tiny geniuses I deal with each day. Strangely, I don't feel stressed with these girls like I did when my own were young. It seems that I'm truly able to enjoy them without worrying about the day to day training that a parent has to do. The time I spend with the girls is truly a joy for me. We have great fun and bonding time.
I bought some beads today. It occurs to me I should begin thinking about Christmas. Each year the pressure is greater and greater to make everyone happy. I wonder at what point in my life I decided that everyone's ultimate happiness depended on me. What pressure I put on myself! The truth is, after the presents are opened on Christmas morning and breakfast is over with, everyone is happy anyway and would still happy be if I was there to insure it or not. Its the nature of the holiday.
Last week it was 90 degrees and today I'm wearing a jacket and freezing. I think that is the main reason for my crankiness today. That and the lack of forward movement on my piano project. I hate the stupid piano project.
Oh well. Tomorrow is another day.
Written by Debby
Saturday, September 6, 2008
4:41:32 AM EDT
Feeling Chillin'
Hearing Bach
Another Friday Night (This picture is 19 year old me)
Today was a typical day. I worked awhile, played awhile, talked on the phone awhile. Cooked awhile, wondered why no one showed up to eat a while. Nothing unusual.
I got an email today from a high school friend. She was telling me about some of the trials in her life. I couldn't help but think back to how we were back then. We thought we were pretty cool with our long blonde hair and a car with all the gas we wanted. We spent a lot of time at the beach, or with our favorite guys. For a short period of time we both smoked a lot. I gave it up. She didn't. We shared clothes since we were both tiny (at that time anyway). She was my maid of honor at my wedding . I learned to drive a stick shift in her VW bug. We cut classes. We were inseparable.We drifted apart when we started having kids, and I never talked to her again until recently. Its good to think back to the girl I was then. In some ways I'm the same person I was then. In others, I bear no resemblance to her.
Enough introspection for now. I'll think about this more another day.
Written by Debby
Saturday, August 16, 2008
1:39:04 PM EDT
Feeling Cynical
Thinking - I thought I smelled smoke
I was just thinking about my last entry. Why did I write it? Do I think someone is going to save me from myself? Do I want anyone to save me from myself? Am I playing the 'poor pitiful me" card?
I don't think so, because I don't expect anyone to read it. Its an exercise. A vent. Trying to put a jumble of thoughts into a few words. To organize my thoughts. I'm an actor in the theater of life, and the director is getting a little frustrated with me. What is my motivation Mr. Director? What am I supposed to be feeling here?
Written by Debby
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
4:12:27 PM EDT
Feeling: Thoughtful
Hearing: silence
When I grow up
I spoke with my oldest son on the phone last night for nearly an hour. He thinks I should get a college degree. His arguments are simple - I have the time and the money to do it.
He told me, aside from the obvious benefit of a better job, his degrees have given him a sense of worth. He was a late bloomer, always intelligent and precocious but also arrogant. He thought he was smart enough without a degree and certainly any employer would recognize that. He admits he was wrong. He now says that having the degrees (he has a BS in computer science and an MBA) make him feel accomplished. That even everyday tasks take on special meaning. He says he even feels better about himself walking through Target.
That's a fairly strong argument for a (now) stay-at-home mom with no children left at home. I know my kids still 'need' me, but it's not the same moment to moment need as when they were younger. I don't have to worry about any of them running out into the street any longer. They have grown up and if I do say so myself - I did a good job. They are all good, decent people. My role has changed. Now I'm more of a sounding board for ideas or advice, or just someone to vent to.
So. Now what? What do I want to be when I grow up? I don't want to go back to the 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. world of business management, so anything I do at this point in my life is strictly for me. Wow. What a crazy idea. Just for me.
Where do my interests lay? Honestly, I have no idea. I have so many - but none that are a passion. Or do I...
To be continued...
Written by Debby
Friday, August 8, 2008
11:05:10 PM EDT
Feeling: Irritated
Hearing: TV
Grandkids
My granddaughter, after the umpteenth warning, did something today I told her not to do. It was a 'straw that broke the camels back' moment. I rarely correct the children because that is why they have parents - but this time I lost it.
Now, let me explain - I (apparently) have a tone of voice and a look that my own children feared. They know when I get to that point I'm on the verge of losing control. I only had to lose control a time or two for them to remember and avoid it at all costs. Now my granddaughter has experienced that moment of near disaster and hopefully won't forget. More likely, I'm the one that won't forget the moment.
After calmly (I thought) confronting the child on the alleged infraction, she tried desperately to come up with a plausible excuse. It was not unlike the way I feel when I'm stopped by a traffic cop - uh - not because that happens often. Not too often anyway.
You could see the wheels in her head turning, trying to avoid the inevitable - Grandma was angry. Very angry.
I explained why I was angry and what would surely happen if something similar were to take place again. My goal was to make her understand that she would not want to experience my wrath and that I was teetering on the edge of my self-control. As I continued to explain, her lower lip began to quiver. She stoically tried to maintain her dignity as her big brown eyes filled with tears She would not cry.
I think it was the quivering lip that got me. I started to lose my resolve as I told her how much I loved and adored her, but I was angry right now. ANGRY!...dang it! ...angry...oh boy...
Then she said it. With a full-lip-quiver-tear-spill-over-the-cheek-but-still-brave look.
"Grandma, you're angry right now, but deep down in your tummy, I know you still love me."
Awww, shoot.
Written by Debby
A casual acquaintance had a house fire and lost everything. All the 'stuff' we collect in a lifetime can be overwhelming. I look around me at the things I've collected over the years and I see memories. Some are good, some are not so good. Some are those 'big' events in a life - the birth of a child, the death of a loved one. Some are of the small happenings of any day - like a toy that reminds me of a child's smile, or a kid's soccer picture from 9th grade. All those things represent events that shape who I am - but what if they were all to be gone tomorrow? Would I be any different? Would the act of simply surviving take precedence over all?Would memories suffice and carry me through? Would I have any choice?
I'm giving myself a headache. I will take the Scarlet O'Hara route and think about that another day.
Written by Debby
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
1:59:16 PM EDT Feeling Lazy
Journal Writing 101
Ok, so clearly journal writing isn't my forte'. Its been nearly 4 months since I started this with a few sentences and that was it. Thank goodness I'm not being graded!
Another go at it then.
The wedding in California was beautiful. The reception was held at the Crown Plaza on the beach in Ventura. The view was incredible, the food was great - and the company was incomparable. It was good to see so many of the relatives. The kids are all growing up.
Sadly, we lost my husbands dad last month. He was 94 and ready to go. Its sad that we only see relatives at weddings and funerals these days, but I suppose that's the nature of aging families. Everyone is so busy.
No.1 son's family is currently visiting our home. Son stayed behind to work. Its so incredible to see how these kids are growing and changing. It makes me think I must be changing as well. But that can't be true, since I am 39. Always and forever.
Hub and I just returned from a quick trip to Alaska. We did some hiking that was very enjoyable. There is a 3.5 mile loop on the east side of Mendenhall glacier in Juneau that we walked, plus another 3-3 1/2 mile hike earlier in the day on Douglas Island. Its amazing to me that Juneau can only be reached by boat or plane. I think I would get claustrophobic if I lived there.
I'll make an attempt to do this more often. Have a great day.
Written by Debby
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
7:09:18 PM EDT
Feeling: Happy
Hearing: silence
Getting ready for a family wedding
Woohoooo. I'm excited. I'm getting ready to go to California and visit my family. My nephew Greg is getting married. His first wife Kerry, died tragically of cancer. I'll get to see my brothers, sisters-in-law, neices and nephews PLUS some grand neices and nephews. I'll post some pictures when I return if I can find my danged camera
Written by Debby
I wrote a few times on my aol site, but that site is going away. I'll probably cut/paste those things here.
Lets try that now...
7:29:08 PM EDT
Feeling Cranky
Baby, it's cold outside.
Wow. What a crummy day. Its cold outside. Every bad driver in the city was out today and trying to kill me. The fact that I was out today may or may not include me in the bad driver group. I'd like to think not, but I have a fairly high opinion of my own driving, so I can't be objective.
I finished my first week babysitting the girls. I'm afraid I'm desperate for things to share with people, because I find myself repeating everything the little darlings say. If only inflection could be adequately related in the re-telling. I'm sure everyone would understand the tiny geniuses I deal with each day. Strangely, I don't feel stressed with these girls like I did when my own were young. It seems that I'm truly able to enjoy them without worrying about the day to day training that a parent has to do. The time I spend with the girls is truly a joy for me. We have great fun and bonding time.
I bought some beads today. It occurs to me I should begin thinking about Christmas. Each year the pressure is greater and greater to make everyone happy. I wonder at what point in my life I decided that everyone's ultimate happiness depended on me. What pressure I put on myself! The truth is, after the presents are opened on Christmas morning and breakfast is over with, everyone is happy anyway and would still happy be if I was there to insure it or not. Its the nature of the holiday.
Last week it was 90 degrees and today I'm wearing a jacket and freezing. I think that is the main reason for my crankiness today. That and the lack of forward movement on my piano project. I hate the stupid piano project.
Oh well. Tomorrow is another day.
Written by Debby
Saturday, September 6, 2008
4:41:32 AM EDT
Feeling Chillin'
Hearing Bach
Another Friday Night (This picture is 19 year old me)
Today was a typical day. I worked awhile, played awhile, talked on the phone awhile. Cooked awhile, wondered why no one showed up to eat a while. Nothing unusual.
I got an email today from a high school friend. She was telling me about some of the trials in her life. I couldn't help but think back to how we were back then. We thought we were pretty cool with our long blonde hair and a car with all the gas we wanted. We spent a lot of time at the beach, or with our favorite guys. For a short period of time we both smoked a lot. I gave it up. She didn't. We shared clothes since we were both tiny (at that time anyway). She was my maid of honor at my wedding . I learned to drive a stick shift in her VW bug. We cut classes. We were inseparable.We drifted apart when we started having kids, and I never talked to her again until recently. Its good to think back to the girl I was then. In some ways I'm the same person I was then. In others, I bear no resemblance to her.
Enough introspection for now. I'll think about this more another day.
Written by Debby
Saturday, August 16, 2008
1:39:04 PM EDT
Feeling Cynical
Thinking - I thought I smelled smoke
I was just thinking about my last entry. Why did I write it? Do I think someone is going to save me from myself? Do I want anyone to save me from myself? Am I playing the 'poor pitiful me" card?
I don't think so, because I don't expect anyone to read it. Its an exercise. A vent. Trying to put a jumble of thoughts into a few words. To organize my thoughts. I'm an actor in the theater of life, and the director is getting a little frustrated with me. What is my motivation Mr. Director? What am I supposed to be feeling here?
Written by Debby
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
4:12:27 PM EDT
Feeling: Thoughtful
Hearing: silence
When I grow up
I spoke with my oldest son on the phone last night for nearly an hour. He thinks I should get a college degree. His arguments are simple - I have the time and the money to do it.
He told me, aside from the obvious benefit of a better job, his degrees have given him a sense of worth. He was a late bloomer, always intelligent and precocious but also arrogant. He thought he was smart enough without a degree and certainly any employer would recognize that. He admits he was wrong. He now says that having the degrees (he has a BS in computer science and an MBA) make him feel accomplished. That even everyday tasks take on special meaning. He says he even feels better about himself walking through Target.
That's a fairly strong argument for a (now) stay-at-home mom with no children left at home. I know my kids still 'need' me, but it's not the same moment to moment need as when they were younger. I don't have to worry about any of them running out into the street any longer. They have grown up and if I do say so myself - I did a good job. They are all good, decent people. My role has changed. Now I'm more of a sounding board for ideas or advice, or just someone to vent to.
So. Now what? What do I want to be when I grow up? I don't want to go back to the 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. world of business management, so anything I do at this point in my life is strictly for me. Wow. What a crazy idea. Just for me.
Where do my interests lay? Honestly, I have no idea. I have so many - but none that are a passion. Or do I...
To be continued...
Written by Debby
Friday, August 8, 2008
11:05:10 PM EDT
Feeling: Irritated
Hearing: TV
Grandkids
My granddaughter, after the umpteenth warning, did something today I told her not to do. It was a 'straw that broke the camels back' moment. I rarely correct the children because that is why they have parents - but this time I lost it.
Now, let me explain - I (apparently) have a tone of voice and a look that my own children feared. They know when I get to that point I'm on the verge of losing control. I only had to lose control a time or two for them to remember and avoid it at all costs. Now my granddaughter has experienced that moment of near disaster and hopefully won't forget. More likely, I'm the one that won't forget the moment.
After calmly (I thought) confronting the child on the alleged infraction, she tried desperately to come up with a plausible excuse. It was not unlike the way I feel when I'm stopped by a traffic cop - uh - not because that happens often. Not too often anyway.
You could see the wheels in her head turning, trying to avoid the inevitable - Grandma was angry. Very angry.
I explained why I was angry and what would surely happen if something similar were to take place again. My goal was to make her understand that she would not want to experience my wrath and that I was teetering on the edge of my self-control. As I continued to explain, her lower lip began to quiver. She stoically tried to maintain her dignity as her big brown eyes filled with tears She would not cry.
I think it was the quivering lip that got me. I started to lose my resolve as I told her how much I loved and adored her, but I was angry right now. ANGRY!...dang it! ...angry...oh boy...
Then she said it. With a full-lip-quiver-tear-spill-over-the-cheek-but-still-brave look.
"Grandma, you're angry right now, but deep down in your tummy, I know you still love me."
Awww, shoot.
Written by Debby
A casual acquaintance had a house fire and lost everything. All the 'stuff' we collect in a lifetime can be overwhelming. I look around me at the things I've collected over the years and I see memories. Some are good, some are not so good. Some are those 'big' events in a life - the birth of a child, the death of a loved one. Some are of the small happenings of any day - like a toy that reminds me of a child's smile, or a kid's soccer picture from 9th grade. All those things represent events that shape who I am - but what if they were all to be gone tomorrow? Would I be any different? Would the act of simply surviving take precedence over all?Would memories suffice and carry me through? Would I have any choice?
I'm giving myself a headache. I will take the Scarlet O'Hara route and think about that another day.
Written by Debby
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
1:59:16 PM EDT Feeling Lazy
Journal Writing 101
Ok, so clearly journal writing isn't my forte'. Its been nearly 4 months since I started this with a few sentences and that was it. Thank goodness I'm not being graded!
Another go at it then.
The wedding in California was beautiful. The reception was held at the Crown Plaza on the beach in Ventura. The view was incredible, the food was great - and the company was incomparable. It was good to see so many of the relatives. The kids are all growing up.
Sadly, we lost my husbands dad last month. He was 94 and ready to go. Its sad that we only see relatives at weddings and funerals these days, but I suppose that's the nature of aging families. Everyone is so busy.
No.1 son's family is currently visiting our home. Son stayed behind to work. Its so incredible to see how these kids are growing and changing. It makes me think I must be changing as well. But that can't be true, since I am 39. Always and forever.
Hub and I just returned from a quick trip to Alaska. We did some hiking that was very enjoyable. There is a 3.5 mile loop on the east side of Mendenhall glacier in Juneau that we walked, plus another 3-3 1/2 mile hike earlier in the day on Douglas Island. Its amazing to me that Juneau can only be reached by boat or plane. I think I would get claustrophobic if I lived there.
I'll make an attempt to do this more often. Have a great day.
Written by Debby
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
7:09:18 PM EDT
Feeling: Happy
Hearing: silence
Getting ready for a family wedding
Woohoooo. I'm excited. I'm getting ready to go to California and visit my family. My nephew Greg is getting married. His first wife Kerry, died tragically of cancer. I'll get to see my brothers, sisters-in-law, neices and nephews PLUS some grand neices and nephews. I'll post some pictures when I return if I can find my danged camera
Written by Debby
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