Thursday, October 15, 2009
Throwing Pottery with the Hippies
Frankie and I drove to Uncle Dane’s in Missouri this past weekend. Uncle Dane is not a relative, and I still don’t know his last name, but he is a long time friend of Frankie’s. Uncle Dane is an artist who lives on 40 acres in the beautiful and serene Ozark Mountains. I felt the Spirit’s love when I first set foot on his property. I met a lot of new people there. Most of them are hippies. Uncle Dane has a studio in his basement with several pottery wheels, and lots of clay. I glued myself to the stool for two days and enjoyed spinning the fresh earth between my fingers. The pieces I worked will have to dry before they can be fired so I had to leave them for now. I met other rock hounds. We went on walks and gathered some of the most unusual and colorful stones for our collections. We nearly got arrested for trespassing when we were caught on someone else’s property. The owner said we should have known that we were on his property by the purple paint that was sprayed on the trees when we entered. Oh, that’s a universal sign, for sure. He had the best rocks too! The men who were in our group calmed the man down, and after listening to him rant for about 45 minutes regarding hippies and derelicts, he let us go. He doesn’t know we stole his rocks! Later that night everyone pulled out an instrument and played 60’s and 70’s Rock and Roll songs until the morning light topped the trees.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Garage Party
This garage party happened on the fourth of July 2002, but our garage could use a cleaning. If you are so inclined, come on over.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is probably going to sound like a strange thing to ask of you, but you probably expect it of Frankie and me by now. We want to decorate the inside of our garage in a funky and eclectic manner to express our artistic and creative abilities. After discussing the cost and surveying the amount of work this will require we have decided to invite our friends and family to participate.
So, on Thursday, July 4th, we want you to bring your paints, paintbrushes, stencils, or anything you choose to decorate the walls of our garage. Each person may select a section(s) to paint and express their wildest ideas. We plan to paint the ceiling and floor too, perhaps a cloud scene, angels, rockets, stars, sun, moon, or outer space on the ceiling and a checkerboard, grass, insects, snakes, etc. on the floor! Be thinking about what you want to create. IDEAS: cartoon characters, dragons, fairies, abstract art, geometric shapes, jungle animals, underwater seascapes, beach scenes, peoples faces, or trompe l’oeil (murals that looks like you can walk into the scene), you name it. You can even paint yourself! A self-portrait, that is!
We’ll get the garage swept cleaned, and everything moved out of the way so you can begin designing immediately upon arrival. We’ll work on it all day so come when you get ready, stay as long as you want. We’ll provide the food and drinks (things that come in sixes are great). Bring a friend, bring snacks, bring paint, but mainly bring your unique creativity. This is going to be a ton of fun! Please let me know you are coming.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is probably going to sound like a strange thing to ask of you, but you probably expect it of Frankie and me by now. We want to decorate the inside of our garage in a funky and eclectic manner to express our artistic and creative abilities. After discussing the cost and surveying the amount of work this will require we have decided to invite our friends and family to participate.
So, on Thursday, July 4th, we want you to bring your paints, paintbrushes, stencils, or anything you choose to decorate the walls of our garage. Each person may select a section(s) to paint and express their wildest ideas. We plan to paint the ceiling and floor too, perhaps a cloud scene, angels, rockets, stars, sun, moon, or outer space on the ceiling and a checkerboard, grass, insects, snakes, etc. on the floor! Be thinking about what you want to create. IDEAS: cartoon characters, dragons, fairies, abstract art, geometric shapes, jungle animals, underwater seascapes, beach scenes, peoples faces, or trompe l’oeil (murals that looks like you can walk into the scene), you name it. You can even paint yourself! A self-portrait, that is!
We’ll get the garage swept cleaned, and everything moved out of the way so you can begin designing immediately upon arrival. We’ll work on it all day so come when you get ready, stay as long as you want. We’ll provide the food and drinks (things that come in sixes are great). Bring a friend, bring snacks, bring paint, but mainly bring your unique creativity. This is going to be a ton of fun! Please let me know you are coming.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Tired Tiles
From the year 2002...
I am in need of massage and physical therapy this morning! Husband #2 decided at 8:00 p.m. last Thursday evening to see what he could do to stop the squeaking in the kitchen floor. After about 2-dozen screws, it still squeaked so he pulled up a portion of the vinyl flooring to see where the floor joist was located. Two hours later the entire kitchen floor was bared to the sub-flooring and was sporting a nice assortment of screws, still squeaking. The vinyl needed replacing but I hadn't planned on doing it this weekend since it was my daughter-in-law's birthday. I had promised to give her a party and to watch the baby on Sunday afternoon. After going under the house and finally getting the squeaking stopped, we installed 12-inch square stick-on tiles that had to be sized and cut to fit the corners around the door frames and cabinets. When the guests arrived I was on my way to pick up a cake that I had not ordered, hoping that Food Lion would have a chocolate one. The party was successful in spite of my lack of planning and organization.
After everyone left, Frankie and I decided to finish the few tiles we had left to install. Our 12-month-old grandson was toddling about, and in to everything that was not screwed down (which didn’t leave a lot!) Sammy was curious and wanted to help. After taking the marker, then the scissors from him, Frankie gave him a scrap of tile to keep him busy. That little guy managed to get the paper backing off, stick it on the floor and come back for another piece! He is barely walking and he's already laying tile! I safely confined him to his high chair and gave him a box of Cheerios, while we finished.
The floor looks nice and it doesn’t squeak, but this morning I am so stove-up (southern for stiff) I could heat the house. I almost called in to work to request a holiday. Then I thought better of it. If I stayed home, I'd end up painting and installing the quarter-round molding. I decided to go to work so I could rest!
I am in need of massage and physical therapy this morning! Husband #2 decided at 8:00 p.m. last Thursday evening to see what he could do to stop the squeaking in the kitchen floor. After about 2-dozen screws, it still squeaked so he pulled up a portion of the vinyl flooring to see where the floor joist was located. Two hours later the entire kitchen floor was bared to the sub-flooring and was sporting a nice assortment of screws, still squeaking. The vinyl needed replacing but I hadn't planned on doing it this weekend since it was my daughter-in-law's birthday. I had promised to give her a party and to watch the baby on Sunday afternoon. After going under the house and finally getting the squeaking stopped, we installed 12-inch square stick-on tiles that had to be sized and cut to fit the corners around the door frames and cabinets. When the guests arrived I was on my way to pick up a cake that I had not ordered, hoping that Food Lion would have a chocolate one. The party was successful in spite of my lack of planning and organization.
After everyone left, Frankie and I decided to finish the few tiles we had left to install. Our 12-month-old grandson was toddling about, and in to everything that was not screwed down (which didn’t leave a lot!) Sammy was curious and wanted to help. After taking the marker, then the scissors from him, Frankie gave him a scrap of tile to keep him busy. That little guy managed to get the paper backing off, stick it on the floor and come back for another piece! He is barely walking and he's already laying tile! I safely confined him to his high chair and gave him a box of Cheerios, while we finished.
The floor looks nice and it doesn’t squeak, but this morning I am so stove-up (southern for stiff) I could heat the house. I almost called in to work to request a holiday. Then I thought better of it. If I stayed home, I'd end up painting and installing the quarter-round molding. I decided to go to work so I could rest!
Friday, October 2, 2009
Where’s the Beef?
This happened in 2002. Aren't you glad we have recovered since then?
All week long I have been looking for a package of books with two tickets to a seminar my girlfriends and I plan to attend next week. Mary got hers; Kara got hers. I should have received mine, and the one I ordered for Donna by now. I called the bookstore to make sure they had sent them. They promised that they had, and gave me a tracking I.D and phone number to call. I called UPS and was told that they delivered the package to my front porch on January 3rd at 4:04 p.m. That was over a week ago and I still had not seen the books. I called Steve at home to have him check the front porch. He reported there was nothing there, and that he had not seen a package. A day later I called the bookstore again to have them put a tracer on the package. When I arrived home from work Friday the UPS driver was knocking at my door. I signed a voucher stating that I had not received the package so the sender could be reimbursed.
I put my things down on the dining room table and noticed a padded yellow envelope in the corner of the room beneath the high chair. I picked it up and opened it. It was from Malaprop’s bookstore containing two books and two tickets. “STEVE, what can you tell me about this package?”
“It came last week sometime.”
“Do you mean on January 3rd at 4:04 p.m.?”
“I dunno. Why?”
“Because this is the package I’ve been looking for all week! That is why UPS was knocking on our door just now.”
“Oops!”
“Steve, why did you put it in such a remote and illogical place?”
“So Java wouldn’t get it.”
“Why would the dog want my package when she’s got dog balls in her bowl?” I asked, “Besides she could still reach it on the floor behind the high chair!”
“She was bothering it when I put it on the floor over here,” he said pointing to a place near the door.
“What about on the table? Next time could you put it on the table or in my room?”
I let it go when I noticed he was taking something out of the oven. He was making beef jerky. “Where did you get meat?” I asked. I knew there wasn’t much in the house in the way of groceries.
“I found a steak in the refrigerator.” No telling how long it had been in there, so I prayed a silent blessing over it as he took a bite and tried to offer some to me. “No, thanks,” I said graciously.
When Frankie got home from work, he and I went to the store to get food so the boy wouldn’t have to eat left olders. We brought home a nice chuck roast for Steve. His eyes lit up when I handed it to him, and he immediately went to work slicing and spicing. I had a terrible head cold so I went to lie down, while the boys made dinner.
The next day Steve got up and pulled out his chuck roast and started to work again. He said that since that I missed dinner last evening, I needed a makeup dinner. He said I could use a lesson on how to cook steaks and make jerky, so I watched as he taught me what I needed to know. While he was grilling the steaks, I pulled out some cabbage, celery, mushrooms, and onion to start a soup. Steve was curious about what I was making. “I like cabbage,” he said.
“I’ll share with you,” I replied as I caught a glimpse of his dad shaking his head, “NO!” while waving his hand under his nose. I gave him a puzzled look. Steve saw me and turned to see what dad was doing. Frankie explained that I might not like the effects cabbage would have on his boy later. The meal was nothing less than gourmet, and I enjoyed sharing the kitchen with my stepson. Afterward, Frankie took Steve with him on an errand, and I was left in charge of the jerky left baking on a sheet of foil in the oven.
The two returned in about an hour, and started working on the computer while I was reading a book in my room. Kathryn, Steve’s girlfriend arrived about the time Frankie went to the kitchen and opened a box of jalapeno poppers. When he put them in the oven, it reminded me of the jerky. I looked in the oven and didn’t see the jerky, only the poppers. “Where did you put the jerky when you put the poppers in the oven?” I asked Frankie.
“They were not in the oven.” That brought Steve and Kathryn to the kitchen.
“What did you do with my jerky?” asked Steve.
“What did YOU do with your jerky?” asked Frankie.
They both looked at me. “I didn’t move the jerky. I checked on it while you were gone but I didn’t take it out of the oven.”
“Dad?”
“Expressy?”
“No.” I answered. “I told you I didn’t move it. Maybe Java ate it! She probably thought it was a book or a package in the mail.”
“She can’t open the oven!” Steve reminded us.
“Then who took the jerky?” Dad was really puzzled.
“Yeah, WHERE’S the beef?” I retorted.
We searched all over the kitchen for the hidden delicacy trying to discover who might be the one playing a practical joke. We even thought Kathryn might have moved it, or perhaps someone came in the backdoor and stole it, or maybe we had a ghost who likes jerky. We gave up after a while still wondering why no one was coming forward to claim the award for the best practical joke.
Kat and Steve were leaving when I smelled something burning. I opened the oven door to check on the poppers and noticed the edge of the foil under the baking sheet the poppers were on. “FRANKIE, you put the poppers on top of the jerky!”
“I did?”
“Yes, and it’s burning!”
He ran out the door to let Steve know the mystery had been solved. Steve came back in the house, grabbed his crunchy charred jerky, and left before anyone could hide it again. Is it gender or genetics that causes these two guys to hide things from themselves and others?
All week long I have been looking for a package of books with two tickets to a seminar my girlfriends and I plan to attend next week. Mary got hers; Kara got hers. I should have received mine, and the one I ordered for Donna by now. I called the bookstore to make sure they had sent them. They promised that they had, and gave me a tracking I.D and phone number to call. I called UPS and was told that they delivered the package to my front porch on January 3rd at 4:04 p.m. That was over a week ago and I still had not seen the books. I called Steve at home to have him check the front porch. He reported there was nothing there, and that he had not seen a package. A day later I called the bookstore again to have them put a tracer on the package. When I arrived home from work Friday the UPS driver was knocking at my door. I signed a voucher stating that I had not received the package so the sender could be reimbursed.
I put my things down on the dining room table and noticed a padded yellow envelope in the corner of the room beneath the high chair. I picked it up and opened it. It was from Malaprop’s bookstore containing two books and two tickets. “STEVE, what can you tell me about this package?”
“It came last week sometime.”
“Do you mean on January 3rd at 4:04 p.m.?”
“I dunno. Why?”
“Because this is the package I’ve been looking for all week! That is why UPS was knocking on our door just now.”
“Oops!”
“Steve, why did you put it in such a remote and illogical place?”
“So Java wouldn’t get it.”
“Why would the dog want my package when she’s got dog balls in her bowl?” I asked, “Besides she could still reach it on the floor behind the high chair!”
“She was bothering it when I put it on the floor over here,” he said pointing to a place near the door.
“What about on the table? Next time could you put it on the table or in my room?”
I let it go when I noticed he was taking something out of the oven. He was making beef jerky. “Where did you get meat?” I asked. I knew there wasn’t much in the house in the way of groceries.
“I found a steak in the refrigerator.” No telling how long it had been in there, so I prayed a silent blessing over it as he took a bite and tried to offer some to me. “No, thanks,” I said graciously.
When Frankie got home from work, he and I went to the store to get food so the boy wouldn’t have to eat left olders. We brought home a nice chuck roast for Steve. His eyes lit up when I handed it to him, and he immediately went to work slicing and spicing. I had a terrible head cold so I went to lie down, while the boys made dinner.
The next day Steve got up and pulled out his chuck roast and started to work again. He said that since that I missed dinner last evening, I needed a makeup dinner. He said I could use a lesson on how to cook steaks and make jerky, so I watched as he taught me what I needed to know. While he was grilling the steaks, I pulled out some cabbage, celery, mushrooms, and onion to start a soup. Steve was curious about what I was making. “I like cabbage,” he said.
“I’ll share with you,” I replied as I caught a glimpse of his dad shaking his head, “NO!” while waving his hand under his nose. I gave him a puzzled look. Steve saw me and turned to see what dad was doing. Frankie explained that I might not like the effects cabbage would have on his boy later. The meal was nothing less than gourmet, and I enjoyed sharing the kitchen with my stepson. Afterward, Frankie took Steve with him on an errand, and I was left in charge of the jerky left baking on a sheet of foil in the oven.
The two returned in about an hour, and started working on the computer while I was reading a book in my room. Kathryn, Steve’s girlfriend arrived about the time Frankie went to the kitchen and opened a box of jalapeno poppers. When he put them in the oven, it reminded me of the jerky. I looked in the oven and didn’t see the jerky, only the poppers. “Where did you put the jerky when you put the poppers in the oven?” I asked Frankie.
“They were not in the oven.” That brought Steve and Kathryn to the kitchen.
“What did you do with my jerky?” asked Steve.
“What did YOU do with your jerky?” asked Frankie.
They both looked at me. “I didn’t move the jerky. I checked on it while you were gone but I didn’t take it out of the oven.”
“Dad?”
“Expressy?”
“No.” I answered. “I told you I didn’t move it. Maybe Java ate it! She probably thought it was a book or a package in the mail.”
“She can’t open the oven!” Steve reminded us.
“Then who took the jerky?” Dad was really puzzled.
“Yeah, WHERE’S the beef?” I retorted.
We searched all over the kitchen for the hidden delicacy trying to discover who might be the one playing a practical joke. We even thought Kathryn might have moved it, or perhaps someone came in the backdoor and stole it, or maybe we had a ghost who likes jerky. We gave up after a while still wondering why no one was coming forward to claim the award for the best practical joke.
Kat and Steve were leaving when I smelled something burning. I opened the oven door to check on the poppers and noticed the edge of the foil under the baking sheet the poppers were on. “FRANKIE, you put the poppers on top of the jerky!”
“I did?”
“Yes, and it’s burning!”
He ran out the door to let Steve know the mystery had been solved. Steve came back in the house, grabbed his crunchy charred jerky, and left before anyone could hide it again. Is it gender or genetics that causes these two guys to hide things from themselves and others?
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Another Addition to the Family
Steve had been really distant and belligerent concerning his schoolwork. We knew that something was bothering him but he wouldn’t talk about it. I thought it was because he was frustrated with Frankie’s constant lecturing about getting the assignments done. Steve called me at work today to tell me that his girlfriend is pregnant! He’s 16 and she’s 17, and both are still in high school. Steve wants me to help him break the news to his dad. That should be fun – especially after all the talks they’ve had about safe or no sex. To help relieve some of the tension, I am taking an active role in Steve’s schooling. I will be doing the English and History portion with him. I’m sure it will all work out fine - God help us all.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Not to be Alarmed
We were sent an email at work this morning telling us not to be shocked should the fire alarm go off. Someone had accidentally tripped it. Three hours later the whole building resounded with sirens as big as Texas that sent my heart pounding into my throat. No one panicked or moved toward the door. We had all passed out from the shock we were told NOT to experience. Then we were told to ignore the man behind the curtain. What did they mean by that? We have blinds on the windows.
Frankie decided that it was his responsibility to home school his son and that I shouldn’t be burdened with the job of teaching while I’m trying to go to college. However, I’m afraid that Steve and Frankie are going to end up killing one another during class. Frankie thinks that only A’s are acceptable. Steve thinks that anything over 65 is an accomplishment. Steve is working a part-time job, which is interfering with him getting his assignments done on time, plus he has a girlfriend that he wants to spend time with. Frankie and Steve argue like yard dogs over dinner scraps, and I’ve been locking myself in my bedroom or going to a friend’s house to escape the war zone. Cheese and crackers, those two are driving me nuts.
Frankie decided that it was his responsibility to home school his son and that I shouldn’t be burdened with the job of teaching while I’m trying to go to college. However, I’m afraid that Steve and Frankie are going to end up killing one another during class. Frankie thinks that only A’s are acceptable. Steve thinks that anything over 65 is an accomplishment. Steve is working a part-time job, which is interfering with him getting his assignments done on time, plus he has a girlfriend that he wants to spend time with. Frankie and Steve argue like yard dogs over dinner scraps, and I’ve been locking myself in my bedroom or going to a friend’s house to escape the war zone. Cheese and crackers, those two are driving me nuts.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
I'm Done With Organized Religion
I’m finished with the mind games of organized religious systems. There are folks that actually believe that they have to tithe and attend church in order to avoid God’s wrath. The church we were attending gave a seminar on supporting the local church with tithes and offerings. Yes, I’m a cheerful giver - it truly makes me happy to avoid being struck by lightning! Fear and punishment is NOT what God is about. Power, love, might, goodness, light, freedom, energy are intangible attributes that reside within all of nature, within all humans. No one is separate from the Creator. They may think and act as if they are. The darkness of the ego may hide our god-like attributes, but they are still there regardless of what is seen or done on the outside. Fear is the opposite of love and anything done out of fear is of the ego (some call it the devil, but I don’t believe in him anymore).
After doing more research on the origin of the church, we have stopped attending. No one will miss the angry drunk couple that got married without permission anyway. Yes, I’m being sarcastic. This kind of stuff has happened to me for the last time. I could care less if anyone likes me or not, I’m not playing the game anymore. I’m not going back to church, and that’s final.
After doing more research on the origin of the church, we have stopped attending. No one will miss the angry drunk couple that got married without permission anyway. Yes, I’m being sarcastic. This kind of stuff has happened to me for the last time. I could care less if anyone likes me or not, I’m not playing the game anymore. I’m not going back to church, and that’s final.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Frankie’s Party
This occurred in 2001. Frankie is much older now.
Saturday was Frankie’s 48th birthday and we celebrated by throwing a huge party for him. I invited family and folks from our work place, church, and the girls from my "get-over-it-already" support group. About 25 people came to eat burgers and wieners and to meet our new puppy, Java. I bought a 9-week-old chocolate lab from someone selling them on the side of the road in Antioch. She’s a sweetheart and we already love her like a member of the family.
Steve has decided that he wants to be home schooled, and has asked us to check into it. There wasn’t much checking to do – I’ve already done the home school thing with My Daughter and I hated it. It is a ton of work for the teacher/parent, and it can ruin a perfectly un-normal relationship with your offspring. At any rate, we are getting the books and curriculum this week, and I’m checking into my insurance benefits for reduced rates at the local mental hospital for myself.
I am starting college this fall. I can’t have my kids getting smarter than I am! The assignments are all taught online through the Internet. It will take well more than two years for me to get my degree, but at least I’ll be making progress toward my dream of having a career in which I can utilize my love for writing. Perhaps Steve, My Daughter and I can do some group study together! I may need their help!!
Saturday was Frankie’s 48th birthday and we celebrated by throwing a huge party for him. I invited family and folks from our work place, church, and the girls from my "get-over-it-already" support group. About 25 people came to eat burgers and wieners and to meet our new puppy, Java. I bought a 9-week-old chocolate lab from someone selling them on the side of the road in Antioch. She’s a sweetheart and we already love her like a member of the family.
Steve has decided that he wants to be home schooled, and has asked us to check into it. There wasn’t much checking to do – I’ve already done the home school thing with My Daughter and I hated it. It is a ton of work for the teacher/parent, and it can ruin a perfectly un-normal relationship with your offspring. At any rate, we are getting the books and curriculum this week, and I’m checking into my insurance benefits for reduced rates at the local mental hospital for myself.
I am starting college this fall. I can’t have my kids getting smarter than I am! The assignments are all taught online through the Internet. It will take well more than two years for me to get my degree, but at least I’ll be making progress toward my dream of having a career in which I can utilize my love for writing. Perhaps Steve, My Daughter and I can do some group study together! I may need their help!!
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Redneck Family
My newly acquired stepson is going to Atlanta with me tonight. My brother has a truck for sale that Steve wants to take a look at, possibly to buy. Steve fears that the Toyota may be a Bubba truck and wants to take a look. I think he really wants to go so he can see for himself what my side of the family is like. It’s a good weekend for him to meet the clan since the family is throwing a birthday bash for my grandmother (Nanny J) who is the 85 year-old matriarch of this socially elite group.
There are about 60 people in my extended family (give or take a few ex-in-laws that we may still be related to). The family is comprised of good ol’ Southern country folk that will expect you to eat a large portion of everything that’s put on the table regardless of whether or not you're hungry, but the ones you have to watch are the ones I call semi-rednecks. That means they still have most of their teeth but otherwise fit the criteria i.e.: drive big trucks, own a couple of yard dogs, use some form of tobacco, and are racially prejudiced. Some of them have taken the Global Positioning Systems out of their bass boats and installed them in their vehicles to help them locate the nearest Wal-mart and yard sales. The language spoken by the clan would give an English teacher grammatical nightmares. Then there’s my sister-in-law who is radioactive! We have to stay away from her cause she’s having her thyroid killed today. She’s been having hot flashes and my brother can’t handle it. She’s the same one who shot their bad-assed dog with a 12-gauge shotgun when it bit one of her boys. She loaded the dog's carcass on the pick up truck and launched it into her dad's chicken pit (a deep hole with a 100 pounds of Red-Devil lye at the bottom). She also raises goats. Need I say more? One ex-in-law who decided she couldn’t get all the demons out us, ran off with a religious cult back in the late 70’s. No one went looking for her.
I’m not trying to project a bad picture of my dysfunctional family. They really are nice folks. They simply don’t qualify for the cover of Family Circle Magazine except for my cousin who thinks she’s Martha Stewart. I’ll try to update you when I return from my trip. Hopefully, no one will fall into the lake while trying to feed my dad’s pet carp this time.
My uncle is not doing too well. I wonder how long someone can survive on a wing and a prayer?
SENT: July 10, 2001, 10:59 AM
SUBJECT: RE: Redneck Family
Ya'll’s real nice folk. I met up with a bunch of ‘em, and they’re right looksome!
SENT: July 11, 2001, 7:59 PM
SUBJECT: RE: Redneck Family
Ok, so the burning question in my mind is WHICH cousin thinks she's Martha Stewart? Inquiring minds want to know. After all, y'all are part of my dysfunctional family too!! :O)
Good luck to you, Steve, this should be an interesting experience for you. Enjoy your Bubba truck. I know where you can get a nice rack of antlers for the grill.
SENT: July 12, 2001 9:30 AM
SUBJECT: Redneck Family
Well, if you have to ask WHICH cousin………
SENT: July 13, 2001, 10:59 AM
SUBJECT: RE: Redneck Family
You think that is bad, well you should meet my extended family from Alabama. I went to my family reunion about two years ago, at my grandmother's urging, and could not believe this was my family!! My grandmother talked my mom into flying down for the weekend to attend the reunion. Let me just say that my immediate family members are Yankees. My dad is from New York City and we have lived in the North pretty much our entire life. Well, at the reunion there were people with no teeth, really big bubba trucks, overalls, and the strongest country (not southern) accent that you can image. My mom and I stuck out like a sore thumb. We just looked at each other in amazement and thought, “This is our family?!”
There are about 60 people in my extended family (give or take a few ex-in-laws that we may still be related to). The family is comprised of good ol’ Southern country folk that will expect you to eat a large portion of everything that’s put on the table regardless of whether or not you're hungry, but the ones you have to watch are the ones I call semi-rednecks. That means they still have most of their teeth but otherwise fit the criteria i.e.: drive big trucks, own a couple of yard dogs, use some form of tobacco, and are racially prejudiced. Some of them have taken the Global Positioning Systems out of their bass boats and installed them in their vehicles to help them locate the nearest Wal-mart and yard sales. The language spoken by the clan would give an English teacher grammatical nightmares. Then there’s my sister-in-law who is radioactive! We have to stay away from her cause she’s having her thyroid killed today. She’s been having hot flashes and my brother can’t handle it. She’s the same one who shot their bad-assed dog with a 12-gauge shotgun when it bit one of her boys. She loaded the dog's carcass on the pick up truck and launched it into her dad's chicken pit (a deep hole with a 100 pounds of Red-Devil lye at the bottom). She also raises goats. Need I say more? One ex-in-law who decided she couldn’t get all the demons out us, ran off with a religious cult back in the late 70’s. No one went looking for her.
I’m not trying to project a bad picture of my dysfunctional family. They really are nice folks. They simply don’t qualify for the cover of Family Circle Magazine except for my cousin who thinks she’s Martha Stewart. I’ll try to update you when I return from my trip. Hopefully, no one will fall into the lake while trying to feed my dad’s pet carp this time.
My uncle is not doing too well. I wonder how long someone can survive on a wing and a prayer?
SENT: July 10, 2001, 10:59 AM
SUBJECT: RE: Redneck Family
Ya'll’s real nice folk. I met up with a bunch of ‘em, and they’re right looksome!
SENT: July 11, 2001, 7:59 PM
SUBJECT: RE: Redneck Family
Ok, so the burning question in my mind is WHICH cousin thinks she's Martha Stewart? Inquiring minds want to know. After all, y'all are part of my dysfunctional family too!! :O)
Good luck to you, Steve, this should be an interesting experience for you. Enjoy your Bubba truck. I know where you can get a nice rack of antlers for the grill.
SENT: July 12, 2001 9:30 AM
SUBJECT: Redneck Family
Well, if you have to ask WHICH cousin………
SENT: July 13, 2001, 10:59 AM
SUBJECT: RE: Redneck Family
You think that is bad, well you should meet my extended family from Alabama. I went to my family reunion about two years ago, at my grandmother's urging, and could not believe this was my family!! My grandmother talked my mom into flying down for the weekend to attend the reunion. Let me just say that my immediate family members are Yankees. My dad is from New York City and we have lived in the North pretty much our entire life. Well, at the reunion there were people with no teeth, really big bubba trucks, overalls, and the strongest country (not southern) accent that you can image. My mom and I stuck out like a sore thumb. We just looked at each other in amazement and thought, “This is our family?!”
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
The New Kid in Town
Whew! It has taken me a while to get around to writing this email update. I’ve been super-busy while watching my life take yet another surprising turn of events. Frankie and I celebrated our one-year wedding anniversary July 7th and decided the best way to celebrate would be to have a child! No, I’m not pregnant! No, we didn’t get a pet. We got a teenaged boy! Frankie’s 16-year-old son finally decided he didn’t like living with his mom and step-dad so he accepted our invitation to come live with us! Over the past 6 months, Steve’s mom would call us in a rage and demand that we come get Steve, but before we could pack and get on the road, she would call to say she changed her mind. We were frustrated and feeling like a yo-yo; getting our hopes up only to have them dashed again. Ultimately, our prayer was that the decision to come here would be Steve’s choice and that he not be coerced. Frankie drove to South Carolina a few weeks ago, loaded all Steve’s belongings on the truck and fetched his boy home.
We’ve finally finished re-decorating the house. The spare bedroom we were reserving for Steve has been decked to his own liking. He painted the walls silvery-black like gunmetal or graphite. Complete with zebra striped linens, black curtains, and a lava lamp, the room has a nice, purple glow in the black light! He got his Tennessee driver’s license last week and loves to run errands for us. He got a job the first week he was here and started saving money to buy a truck from my brother. Steve is low-maintenance. In fact, he keeps his room and belongings much neater than I do! He enjoys cooking and helping with household projects. He made dinner for me while his dad was out of town for his grandmother’s funeral. He helped his dad rebuild the deck while I was away on a weekend trip with my girlfriends. Between us, Frankie and I have five children, and four grandkids. Steve’s older sister, Elsie, and her family live about 45 minutes from us so when the whole clan gets together, we have a Brady Bunch rerun! I didn’t realize how much I missed the family thing.
My Daughter graduated high school in May and plans to start college this fall. She’s looking for a waitress job she can work in the evening hours so she can go to classes in the daytime. She has a lot of decisions to make right now and she leans on me for support like never before. My Daughter will be eighteen on August 1st and is moving into her own apartment August fifth. She asked her step-dad and stepbrother to help her move. I think she is accepting the changes in our lives.
Expressy
We’ve finally finished re-decorating the house. The spare bedroom we were reserving for Steve has been decked to his own liking. He painted the walls silvery-black like gunmetal or graphite. Complete with zebra striped linens, black curtains, and a lava lamp, the room has a nice, purple glow in the black light! He got his Tennessee driver’s license last week and loves to run errands for us. He got a job the first week he was here and started saving money to buy a truck from my brother. Steve is low-maintenance. In fact, he keeps his room and belongings much neater than I do! He enjoys cooking and helping with household projects. He made dinner for me while his dad was out of town for his grandmother’s funeral. He helped his dad rebuild the deck while I was away on a weekend trip with my girlfriends. Between us, Frankie and I have five children, and four grandkids. Steve’s older sister, Elsie, and her family live about 45 minutes from us so when the whole clan gets together, we have a Brady Bunch rerun! I didn’t realize how much I missed the family thing.
My Daughter graduated high school in May and plans to start college this fall. She’s looking for a waitress job she can work in the evening hours so she can go to classes in the daytime. She has a lot of decisions to make right now and she leans on me for support like never before. My Daughter will be eighteen on August 1st and is moving into her own apartment August fifth. She asked her step-dad and stepbrother to help her move. I think she is accepting the changes in our lives.
Expressy
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