Sunday, May 24, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Where is home?
After your folks pass on, where is home? I'm going in a few weeks to get my parent's house ready to sell...including a huge estate sale. This is not going to be easy....I was raised in this house from 2 years old until I left for the last time at 22 years old; with my shorts in a twist, sort of, over issues with my mom. God I wish so much I could go back. So much I wish. I complained about the house; it was too cold in the winter, too hot in the summer, the wall to wall shag was way outdated and my dad's handy work of paneling the entire downstairs was...well, a great work of craftsmanship, but it was paneling with dropped ceilings and florescent lighting, who does that? And now, looking back, I loved that house.
I remember my first real boyfriend, Myron...(yeah Myron....who does that to a kid?) I knew my parents wouldn't like me bringing him to my bedroom but it was really the only place where we could talk without being heard by other ears. My mother, of course, was against it..."bring your boyfriend to your bedroom? You just might as well go down to the orphanage and get you a kid!" But she conceded to let my dad decide. He looked at his watch and said, "Okay...go!" And he proceeded to do mock clock watching.
Now my room was great because it was really all mine. I could paint and decorate it as I wish. The walls were made of some kind of press board which meant there was no issue with sticking tacks in it. I tacked an entire wall of furry material to it. I painted feet up another wall in red. It was my room. I painted a picture of tree at sunset on the wall behind the door. I let my creative go.
There was no heat upstairs except for whatever drifted up the steps. There was a small gas heater in the bathroom that I wasn't allowed to light until I was 15 years old or so.
Recently I've come across old photos of the place...before the shag and the panelling and the drop ceiling...when the floors throughout most of it were hard wood and the wallpaper had faded cardinals and pinkish flowers.
And now I am going home to say good bye to a home I haven't lived in for more than half my life. Having said that, it shouldn't be so hard....should it? But it is...hard to say good bye to something you thought would be there forever.
I remember my first real boyfriend, Myron...(yeah Myron....who does that to a kid?) I knew my parents wouldn't like me bringing him to my bedroom but it was really the only place where we could talk without being heard by other ears. My mother, of course, was against it..."bring your boyfriend to your bedroom? You just might as well go down to the orphanage and get you a kid!" But she conceded to let my dad decide. He looked at his watch and said, "Okay...go!" And he proceeded to do mock clock watching.
Now my room was great because it was really all mine. I could paint and decorate it as I wish. The walls were made of some kind of press board which meant there was no issue with sticking tacks in it. I tacked an entire wall of furry material to it. I painted feet up another wall in red. It was my room. I painted a picture of tree at sunset on the wall behind the door. I let my creative go.
There was no heat upstairs except for whatever drifted up the steps. There was a small gas heater in the bathroom that I wasn't allowed to light until I was 15 years old or so.
Recently I've come across old photos of the place...before the shag and the panelling and the drop ceiling...when the floors throughout most of it were hard wood and the wallpaper had faded cardinals and pinkish flowers.
And now I am going home to say good bye to a home I haven't lived in for more than half my life. Having said that, it shouldn't be so hard....should it? But it is...hard to say good bye to something you thought would be there forever.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Lunchtime Ramblings
Lately I've been thinking about feet. Well, mostly my feet are hurting me. We had a contest at work to see which team could walk the most in a week. The company even handed out little pedometers to count our steps. Ever since then, my feet are hurting me.
I went to Compton's Shoes over on 50th and Portland last week. The owner, a very knowledgeable "pediologist" told me that my shoes are too small. Now, keep in mind my feet are....well, for a woman...a bit on the large size. I wear a ladies 11 or a mens 9 1/2. He tells me I should be wearing a ladies 13 and a men's 11 1/2! Yeah!
The owner tells me that most people are wearing the wrong sized shoe because feet are not measured by the length but rather by the width of the widest part of the foot. But to add insult to injury, my feet are extra narrow..AA.
I'm not a vain person; I really don't buy into paying for the latest styles or fashions but I have my limits. I mean a size 13! I might as well have my toes webbed! Over the weekend I went to Walmart (I know...not exactly a shoe store) and bought a pair of men's sneakers in size 10 1/2. This is it! I'm not going any bigger!! I will admit, my feet ARE better.
I went to Compton's Shoes over on 50th and Portland last week. The owner, a very knowledgeable "pediologist" told me that my shoes are too small. Now, keep in mind my feet are....well, for a woman...a bit on the large size. I wear a ladies 11 or a mens 9 1/2. He tells me I should be wearing a ladies 13 and a men's 11 1/2! Yeah!
The owner tells me that most people are wearing the wrong sized shoe because feet are not measured by the length but rather by the width of the widest part of the foot. But to add insult to injury, my feet are extra narrow..AA.
I'm not a vain person; I really don't buy into paying for the latest styles or fashions but I have my limits. I mean a size 13! I might as well have my toes webbed! Over the weekend I went to Walmart (I know...not exactly a shoe store) and bought a pair of men's sneakers in size 10 1/2. This is it! I'm not going any bigger!! I will admit, my feet ARE better.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Thursday, May 07, 2009
My Nephew is so cute
Okay...these are NOT recent pics but I came across them today and had to post them. This is Jon. He's such a cutie.Tuesday, May 05, 2009
God I love reinforcement
I've made an amazing discovery again. I knew it all along but it is so grand when you find out your opinion turns out to be dead on; when something happens that proves you are right. I wish I could go into specifics but since my blog is read by so many and I am, basically, a mini-celeb, I have to watch what I say to not offend. But trust me! There is safety in numbers. And I'm a happy little gal tonight.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)