Monday, September 27, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
TOILET SEATS
When my husband tells me we need to go to Home Depot I pretend I don't hear him. If that fails I fake a headache...although I've over played that card for other requests. And hiding doesn't work because I do that with the dogs and he knows all my hiding spots...
"Come on lets go to Home Depot."
"What's my reward if I go with you?"
"Lunch and a toilet seat."
Lunch sounds good and I have been mentioning, on more than one occasion, the need for a new toilet seat.
You need to replace a toilet seat when the paint is chipping off or if the seat is very loose.... both of which....is the case on this particular seat. I can't figure out why the paint is chipping off...and.. I don't want to think or ask him about that.
And what makes a seat loose? Sitting down or standing up too fast?... Or sitting down and sliding back and forth? Hhhmmmmmm. What I do know is.. it is dangerous to sit on this cheap ride in the middle of the night after two glasses of wine.... damn near killed myself....
And I told him before, "You are going to sit your bare ass down one day and that seat is going to slide off and land on the floor with YOU on it. I have visions of you hitting your head and knocking yourself out cold.... Then I have visions of ME calling for help.... Your pants will be wrapped around your ankles when the paramedics walk in.
Good reasons to go to Home Depot.
I took the plastic dome thing that covers the screw at the base of the toilet...washed it...and put it in my purse. There must be many shades of beige and I want it to match. Then I told him to measure the seat....
"Measure the seat???? What for???"
"Why measure????? Because I hate toilets with a seat that is too small?"
"When did you see that?"
Fuck...I am thinking... "I don't remember where I saw that... I just know I did."
Home Depot has their toilet seats HANGING on a wall and a limited selection of beige. By each seat is displayed the length. 17 1/2"...17 3/4"...18 1/2" ....
I lifted some of the lids and one seat had a HOLE so small...I have no idea who would sit on it. I know for a fact...my ass is bigger than that. How do you aim?
I said,"Look at this one..the hole is really small...do you think you could sit on that???"
"Well" he said, "it would be kind of hard cause the seat is hanging on the wall."
We started laughing so hard...I almost peed my pants.
"What is the measurement we need?"
He says..."17...17 1/2.... we're in the ballpark here...or 18..."
I said,"Screw that...we have to get it right... it has to be perfect."
A young sales girl walked up and I asked her..."How do you measure a toilet seat?"
She said, "From the bolt to the front edge of the toilet."
I looked at him and said...."How did YOU measure?"
"I don't remember. But get that thing out of your purse and lets match the color."
"Even if they have the color....We don't know the size."
He looked at me and said..."Lets go to lunch."
"Come on lets go to Home Depot."
"What's my reward if I go with you?"
"Lunch and a toilet seat."
Lunch sounds good and I have been mentioning, on more than one occasion, the need for a new toilet seat.
You need to replace a toilet seat when the paint is chipping off or if the seat is very loose.... both of which....is the case on this particular seat. I can't figure out why the paint is chipping off...and.. I don't want to think or ask him about that.
And what makes a seat loose? Sitting down or standing up too fast?... Or sitting down and sliding back and forth? Hhhmmmmmm. What I do know is.. it is dangerous to sit on this cheap ride in the middle of the night after two glasses of wine.... damn near killed myself....
And I told him before, "You are going to sit your bare ass down one day and that seat is going to slide off and land on the floor with YOU on it. I have visions of you hitting your head and knocking yourself out cold.... Then I have visions of ME calling for help.... Your pants will be wrapped around your ankles when the paramedics walk in.
Good reasons to go to Home Depot.
I took the plastic dome thing that covers the screw at the base of the toilet...washed it...and put it in my purse. There must be many shades of beige and I want it to match. Then I told him to measure the seat....
"Measure the seat???? What for???"
"Why measure????? Because I hate toilets with a seat that is too small?"
"When did you see that?"
Fuck...I am thinking... "I don't remember where I saw that... I just know I did."
Home Depot has their toilet seats HANGING on a wall and a limited selection of beige. By each seat is displayed the length. 17 1/2"...17 3/4"...18 1/2" ....
I lifted some of the lids and one seat had a HOLE so small...I have no idea who would sit on it. I know for a fact...my ass is bigger than that. How do you aim?
I said,"Look at this one..the hole is really small...do you think you could sit on that???"
"Well" he said, "it would be kind of hard cause the seat is hanging on the wall."
We started laughing so hard...I almost peed my pants.
"What is the measurement we need?"
He says..."17...17 1/2.... we're in the ballpark here...or 18..."
I said,"Screw that...we have to get it right... it has to be perfect."
A young sales girl walked up and I asked her..."How do you measure a toilet seat?"
She said, "From the bolt to the front edge of the toilet."
I looked at him and said...."How did YOU measure?"
"I don't remember. But get that thing out of your purse and lets match the color."
"Even if they have the color....We don't know the size."
He looked at me and said..."Lets go to lunch."
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Deven
My first grandson, Deven, is 9 years and truly my buddy.
Deven is a normal kid.... I think. Is it normal to hustle your Nana out of money by playing games? We weren't to the airport baggage area yet and he said,
"Did you bring money?"
"Yes....what did you have in mind?"
"Games. We'll play for money."
"What kind of games?"
"It doesn't matter...I beat you every time and I thought we could start tonight."
Gail, my daughter in law, said," Deven... be nice to your Nana."
"Yeah, you heard your mom...be nice to me."
I sleep in the spare bedroom when I visit them...and when I walked in, laying on the dresser, was a card Deven made for me. It said...Welcome back Nana...do you want to play Pente for money?"
We've been playing at 15 cents a game, I owe him over $2.00...so far... He wanted to play for more money but I put the clamps on that idea. I've been in the losing position before with him.
It will be like this for 2 weeks. He doesn't let me board the plane until I've paid up. On past visits we have played for money before he gets on the school bus. AND I do not let him win....HE KNOWS STRATEGY. He will tell me ...
"Why did you move there? That's a wasted move."
Pente is a game played with stones. The object is to get 5 in a row. It sounds simple until you play with him.
Deven plays other games as well. If he learns a game...he will beat you at it.
It's a high level of concentration. And mine must be wearing thin after years of use.
When he turned 4 years old, he taught me a video game. When I was on a return visit six months later..he put the game in the tv. I said, "I don't remember how to play this."
He said,"I taught it to you last time you were here....I'll just teach you again."
That made me feel like an idiot.
I think I should teach him poker.... that's a game he needs to know. Let him win money off someone else...
Deven is a normal kid.... I think. Is it normal to hustle your Nana out of money by playing games? We weren't to the airport baggage area yet and he said,
"Did you bring money?"
"Yes....what did you have in mind?"
"Games. We'll play for money."
"What kind of games?"
"It doesn't matter...I beat you every time and I thought we could start tonight."
Gail, my daughter in law, said," Deven... be nice to your Nana."
"Yeah, you heard your mom...be nice to me."
I sleep in the spare bedroom when I visit them...and when I walked in, laying on the dresser, was a card Deven made for me. It said...Welcome back Nana...do you want to play Pente for money?"
We've been playing at 15 cents a game, I owe him over $2.00...so far... He wanted to play for more money but I put the clamps on that idea. I've been in the losing position before with him.
It will be like this for 2 weeks. He doesn't let me board the plane until I've paid up. On past visits we have played for money before he gets on the school bus. AND I do not let him win....HE KNOWS STRATEGY. He will tell me ...
"Why did you move there? That's a wasted move."
Pente is a game played with stones. The object is to get 5 in a row. It sounds simple until you play with him.
Deven plays other games as well. If he learns a game...he will beat you at it.
It's a high level of concentration. And mine must be wearing thin after years of use.
When he turned 4 years old, he taught me a video game. When I was on a return visit six months later..he put the game in the tv. I said, "I don't remember how to play this."
He said,"I taught it to you last time you were here....I'll just teach you again."
That made me feel like an idiot.
I think I should teach him poker.... that's a game he needs to know. Let him win money off someone else...
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Phoenix flight to Atlanta....
My alarm was set for 4:00am but I didn't need to set it. Last night, Lynn my husband, surprised me with a Venti Soy Latti. It wasn't decaf!!!.... My eyes were open laser beams all night. I slept for 45 minutes and my alarm went off. Lack of sleep gives me shakes. I walked into my closet, felt the wall for the light switch and turned it on. There was a flash and the light bulb burned out. Who in the hell has time to get a ladder and change a bulb when they have a plane to catch? I think rule number one is...no ladders at 4:00am, especially with lack of sleep and the fact that I am half blind without my glasses. But I needed to be in the closet to find my passport as another piece of I.D. There might be questions asked from TSA about my blond to black hair. I'm in a bad mood.... because I'm ready to sleep now and I can't.
The plane out of Phoenix had a 15 minute late start...Not good... I only had 55 minutes between the connection in Atlanta. Now its 40 minutes. The guy next to me said the pilot will make up the time...not to worry. The stewardess was no help..she was eyeing my bag under the seat in front of me. It was exposed by a few inches and it was bothering her.
"Can that bag go farther under the seat?"
"No."
"Then it will have to go on top or checked in."
"My important stuff is in here...wallet...passport..books...I need it right here."
"Well, it is not within regulation."
"Well...its been on many flights before...within regulation." .......................(bitch)....
The guy next to me said,"Lets turn it around......maybe it fits better the other way."
Turning the bag aound made no difference but thankfully the pilot announced we were clear for take off. Which means..I was hoping thebitch flight attendant would take her seat...
The plane was in the air and down the aisle comes the beverage cart....and guess who's pushing it? The question of Coffee...Tea... or Me???? is not asked anymore... Thankfully...
I'm thinking...I better be nice..suck up time... because I am too tired to go another round with her.
"Would you like something to drink?"
"Yes, thank you. Can I have two glasses of water, no ice, to pour into my glass bottle?"
"Sure. In fact, just give me your bottle and I will pour it in for you."
"OH, GOOD IDEA...THANK YOU," and I smiled. She probably didn't want two thousand miles of me either.
I also ordered the "Flight Delight." It has nothing to do with the mile high club. It was a box with goodies. Pita crackers, hummus, almonds, apricots and a cookie. I had 40 minutes between planes so this box sounded like a good idea. This box, however; had a plastic skrink wrap that was so tight. I tried to bite the corner and pull. I worked long enough at it to consider throwing it over everyones head aiming at my bitch friend. Just a consideration. Keep in mind, YOU CAN'T BOARD THE PLANE WITH ANYTHING SHARP. Feeling like a genius, I used the end that plugs in my ear phones. Please store that piece of info in your brain when that happens to you because it worked like a charm.
The guy next to me said, "Good idea."
My earphones were on and I started watching Food Network, on a post card size screen, on the seat in front of me. Squeezing hummus on a cracker was enjoyable. One after another...until...plop. I missed the cracker and a glob of hummus fell on the seat. THANKFULLY..my legs were apart. I learned leg position long ago..maybe hence the term "Flight Delight". The guy next to me acted like he did not notice when I had to go after it and clean it up.
The plane landed on time at terminal A and my departing plane was at terminal D. Atlanta airport is a busy airport and I wasted no time running down the halls, down the escalator and to the train. The train doors
were open and there stood wall to wall people. The train will NOT leave without me, I thought.
I squeezed my body in, waiting for people to shift and yelled, "This door isn't closing with my ass in the way."
A few people moved and we were a tight fit.
Oh God...I hope my flight to Michigan is better.
The plane out of Phoenix had a 15 minute late start...Not good... I only had 55 minutes between the connection in Atlanta. Now its 40 minutes. The guy next to me said the pilot will make up the time...not to worry. The stewardess was no help..she was eyeing my bag under the seat in front of me. It was exposed by a few inches and it was bothering her.
"Can that bag go farther under the seat?"
"No."
"Then it will have to go on top or checked in."
"My important stuff is in here...wallet...passport..books...I need it right here."
"Well, it is not within regulation."
"Well...its been on many flights before...within regulation." .......................(bitch)....
The guy next to me said,"Lets turn it around......maybe it fits better the other way."
Turning the bag aound made no difference but thankfully the pilot announced we were clear for take off. Which means..I was hoping the
The plane was in the air and down the aisle comes the beverage cart....and guess who's pushing it? The question of Coffee...Tea... or Me???? is not asked anymore... Thankfully...
I'm thinking...I better be nice..suck up time... because I am too tired to go another round with her.
"Would you like something to drink?"
"Yes, thank you. Can I have two glasses of water, no ice, to pour into my glass bottle?"
"Sure. In fact, just give me your bottle and I will pour it in for you."
"OH, GOOD IDEA...THANK YOU," and I smiled. She probably didn't want two thousand miles of me either.
I also ordered the "Flight Delight." It has nothing to do with the mile high club. It was a box with goodies. Pita crackers, hummus, almonds, apricots and a cookie. I had 40 minutes between planes so this box sounded like a good idea. This box, however; had a plastic skrink wrap that was so tight. I tried to bite the corner and pull. I worked long enough at it to consider throwing it over everyones head aiming at my bitch friend. Just a consideration. Keep in mind, YOU CAN'T BOARD THE PLANE WITH ANYTHING SHARP. Feeling like a genius, I used the end that plugs in my ear phones. Please store that piece of info in your brain when that happens to you because it worked like a charm.
The guy next to me said, "Good idea."
My earphones were on and I started watching Food Network, on a post card size screen, on the seat in front of me. Squeezing hummus on a cracker was enjoyable. One after another...until...plop. I missed the cracker and a glob of hummus fell on the seat. THANKFULLY..my legs were apart. I learned leg position long ago..maybe hence the term "Flight Delight". The guy next to me acted like he did not notice when I had to go after it and clean it up.
The plane landed on time at terminal A and my departing plane was at terminal D. Atlanta airport is a busy airport and I wasted no time running down the halls, down the escalator and to the train. The train doors
were open and there stood wall to wall people. The train will NOT leave without me, I thought.
I squeezed my body in, waiting for people to shift and yelled, "This door isn't closing with my ass in the way."
A few people moved and we were a tight fit.
Oh God...I hope my flight to Michigan is better.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Sunday Real Estate
If there was ever a round the clock, time consuming occupation it was selling REAL ESTATE. I know first hand.... When I drive down a street, turn a corner and see a real estate OPEN HOUSE sign...I get a cold chill up my spine. I creep past the house, bow my head and make the sign of the cross. Because in that house an agent is counting the minutes away when they can turn off all forty lights, pick up their set up sheets, and blank purchase agreements and get the hell out.
I spent many Sunday's at the dreaded Open House. Food and drink were the first things I packed. The thought of being hungry or thirsty, knowing I had two more hours is added punishment. For entertainment I grabbed a book or two... I never thought it tasteful for a client to walk in and hear a television.
I can imagine a, "Saturday Night Live" skit. The realtor is sitting on the couch, watching television. The clients walk in, stand by the couch, look around in disbelief, then look at the television and SIT DOWN NEXT TO THE REALTOR.
With all eyes staring at the television...this is Sunday and there is a football game on.
"Hi....you guys looking for a 4 bedroom?"
"Ah..yes..and at least 2 bathrooms... Oh damn..he fumbled the ball...idiot."
"Hell..he was just as bad when he played against Tampa Bay. There are 2 1/2 baths and plumbing in the basement for another 1/2 bath. And yes 4 big bedrooms."
"They should have traded him when they had the chance. Is the garage big enough for a tool bench? Damn I'm hungry."
"Its a great over sized garage with a built in tool bench, a rack to hang your smaller stuff and lots of storage..... I will see if I can find some chips and dip."
"Run you son of a bitch...go...go..go.. good..goood...yeah.... OH NO...right at the 10 yard line.... yeah chips and dip..and a beer?"
"I'm bringing it and good news...they've lowered the price."
"What's the price? We are trying to sell our house, we think we have a buyer, but need every dime out in order to purchase ...thanks for the beer, chips and dip."
"Honey"...the wife says..."I walked through the house and I love it...The laundry room is upstairs by the bedrooms."
"Oh, this is a great floor plan....the owners will miss that feature. Dirty clothes and clean clothes near the bedrooms where it should be."
"Great...he made the extra point.... OK ...Its half time..lets hurry home so I can watch it..and DO YOU HAVE A SALES CARD?"
I spent many Sunday's at the dreaded Open House. Food and drink were the first things I packed. The thought of being hungry or thirsty, knowing I had two more hours is added punishment. For entertainment I grabbed a book or two... I never thought it tasteful for a client to walk in and hear a television.
I can imagine a, "Saturday Night Live" skit. The realtor is sitting on the couch, watching television. The clients walk in, stand by the couch, look around in disbelief, then look at the television and SIT DOWN NEXT TO THE REALTOR.
With all eyes staring at the television...this is Sunday and there is a football game on.
"Hi....you guys looking for a 4 bedroom?"
"Ah..yes..and at least 2 bathrooms... Oh damn..he fumbled the ball...idiot."
"Hell..he was just as bad when he played against Tampa Bay. There are 2 1/2 baths and plumbing in the basement for another 1/2 bath. And yes 4 big bedrooms."
"They should have traded him when they had the chance. Is the garage big enough for a tool bench? Damn I'm hungry."
"Its a great over sized garage with a built in tool bench, a rack to hang your smaller stuff and lots of storage..... I will see if I can find some chips and dip."
"Run you son of a bitch...go...go..go.. good..goood...yeah.... OH NO...right at the 10 yard line.... yeah chips and dip..and a beer?"
"I'm bringing it and good news...they've lowered the price."
"What's the price? We are trying to sell our house, we think we have a buyer, but need every dime out in order to purchase ...thanks for the beer, chips and dip."
"Honey"...the wife says..."I walked through the house and I love it...The laundry room is upstairs by the bedrooms."
"Oh, this is a great floor plan....the owners will miss that feature. Dirty clothes and clean clothes near the bedrooms where it should be."
"Great...he made the extra point.... OK ...Its half time..lets hurry home so I can watch it..and DO YOU HAVE A SALES CARD?"
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
America's Got Talent
I am watching America's Got Talent and going down memory lane. My dad played any piano, any time, any song and anywhere. Dad could play by ear.... As in NO sheet music. When I say anywhere, if Costco had a piano on display....dad played it. He was a great talent. His brother Art, a few years older than dad realized his brothers talent. Art saved his earnings from his paper route and odd jobs and bought dad a piano.
When I was five Dad thought it was time for me to start piano lessons. Play by ear?....I don't think so.... I had to have a paper stand up cheat sheet that told you what every key was named. It took weeks to memorize.. .Every...Good...Boy...Does...Fine and F..A..C..E.. Hell... that was only the right hand. Then more pain to memorize the left hand ...Good...Boys...Do...Fine...Always..and All..Cows...Eat...Grass.
Dad did not want to teach me so they hired a piano teacher that came to the house once a week... I hated it and I hated her.. Mom always made me put on a dress for the teacher. I remember getting up on that damn wooden piano bench and my panties and legs would sweat. Then if I moved my legs I would get an Indian burn from the friction... It was impossible to concentrate on my lesson while in pain.. And where was mom and dad??? They were in the kitchen so I could have my lesson in private...
I was about three months into my lessons...still hating it and hating her...and I didn't practice much that week. Mom and dad were in the kitchen and the teacher started to yell at me....
She said, "You were to practice 30 minutes each day and I know you DID NOT."
"Well, I don't like it and I DON'T LIKE YOU," I said.
She took her hand and slapped me across the face and I fell backward off the bench.
Dad heard me cry and came running into the room.. It was the first time I heard him yell at someone. He told her to get the HELL out of his house.
When she left...he said...
"Don't you like playing the piano?"
"No....the songs are ugly."
He said,"I thought you were good...if I get a nice teacher..will you try again?"
"Ok," I said.....
At eleven years old.. I memorized and played Clair de Lune at a recital wearing a new dress.
While I was in high school I taught piano to kids on Saturday mornings...
I miss dad when I think of those times....
When I was five Dad thought it was time for me to start piano lessons. Play by ear?....I don't think so.... I had to have a paper stand up cheat sheet that told you what every key was named. It took weeks to memorize.. .Every...Good...Boy...Does...Fine and F..A..C..E.. Hell... that was only the right hand. Then more pain to memorize the left hand ...Good...Boys...Do...Fine...Always..and All..Cows...Eat...Grass.
Dad did not want to teach me so they hired a piano teacher that came to the house once a week... I hated it and I hated her.. Mom always made me put on a dress for the teacher. I remember getting up on that damn wooden piano bench and my panties and legs would sweat. Then if I moved my legs I would get an Indian burn from the friction... It was impossible to concentrate on my lesson while in pain.. And where was mom and dad??? They were in the kitchen so I could have my lesson in private...
I was about three months into my lessons...still hating it and hating her...and I didn't practice much that week. Mom and dad were in the kitchen and the teacher started to yell at me....
She said, "You were to practice 30 minutes each day and I know you DID NOT."
"Well, I don't like it and I DON'T LIKE YOU," I said.
She took her hand and slapped me across the face and I fell backward off the bench.
Dad heard me cry and came running into the room.. It was the first time I heard him yell at someone. He told her to get the HELL out of his house.
When she left...he said...
"Don't you like playing the piano?"
"No....the songs are ugly."
He said,"I thought you were good...if I get a nice teacher..will you try again?"
"Ok," I said.....
At eleven years old.. I memorized and played Clair de Lune at a recital wearing a new dress.
While I was in high school I taught piano to kids on Saturday mornings...
I miss dad when I think of those times....
Monday, August 23, 2010
The Sound of Music
I know without a doubt that my daughter, Kristen, is a great mother. My eight week old granddaughter will have a beautiful, close relationship with her. Certainly brings me peace because that is how it should be. Don't have children unless you really want them. My mother shouldn't have had the four of us. She was modeling in Detroit and then bang....she was pregnant with me. I am number ONE. I cooked and cleaned and was reminded almost daily that I ruined her modeling career. If I was more knowledgeable at the time I would have told her that 5'2" models are not in demand. I don't care how beautiful you are.. You have to be taller and don't blame your...it never would have happened anyway career...on me. All four of us kids..walked on egg shells.
So when she would leave for the afternoon I was free...yes free and I would...get on my bike...ride as fast as I could to the drug store and buy a shit load of candy for the four of us. We would pig out until we were sick. My sister Patrice, 7 years younger than me, once complained to me of a stomach ache and I told her to keep her damn mouth shut. I remember grabbing her hand and in a fast walk took her in the bath room. I picked her up and head down held her over the toilet.... "WANT ME TO FLUSH YOU DOWN??? I WILL IF YOU TELL MOM I WENT AND BOUGHT CANDY. "
My sister Joan, 5 years younger than me, and brother Rick, 9 years younger, stood in the door way. "Just do it, Susan, cause she's got a big mouth."
Poor Patrice...crying..."No...No...I promise."
When we were left alone...the sky was the limit... As soon as that car rolled down the driveway...I would turn on the HI FI.... Now there's a term from the past.
I would get out one of mom's favorite record albums....THE SOUND OF MUSIC, put it on the turn table and play it full blast. Singing out loud with Julie Andrews. And this day was no different..
THE HILLS ARE ALIVE...LA DE..DA...WITH THE SOUND...THE SOUND...THE SOUND...
Crap...the album was skipping..there was a chip...she will find out...I'm as good as dead.. .. My life as boring as it is....is over once mom finds out... Why??..because she told me a million times to NEVER touch her record albums.. The Sound of Music....Dean Martin... Frank Sinatra... her entire collection was off limits to me...
At the dinner table that night the four of us sat in panic. I was afraid of mom...Joan and Rick were afraid FOR ME... and Patrice was afraid of the toilet. I had no idea what to do.
The next day when I got home from school..mom was out running errands before dad got home...but damn on the kitchen table was a note addressed to me.
SUSAN... You are in big trouble...you ruined my Sound of Music album and you will be punished when I get home.
Now..here stands a kid scared shitless...Until I had an idea. I told Joan,"You are in charge...I will be right back."
I grabbed the album and rode my bike as fast as I could and rode to K-Mart. I walked in the music department and told them I bought the record here and it skips...so I just want another one. I had no idea where mom bought it. But K-Mart was close. THEY GAVE ME A NEW ONE. Back home I rode, took the paper off the album and put the new one right in place like it was there all the time.
Mom was livid when she walked in and marched to the record player. She pulled the record out like it was a gift from God, placed it on the turn table and turned it on. THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC...and on it went.....
I love you Julie Andrews like never before, I thought.
My mother was in shock."It was skipping before."
"Are you sure mom?"
"Yes I'm sure."
"It must have been a piece of dust," I added.
"Well......maybe."
The next time the four of us were together I reminded Patrice.....the toilet will always be there if you tell...
.
So when she would leave for the afternoon I was free...yes free and I would...get on my bike...ride as fast as I could to the drug store and buy a shit load of candy for the four of us. We would pig out until we were sick. My sister Patrice, 7 years younger than me, once complained to me of a stomach ache and I told her to keep her damn mouth shut. I remember grabbing her hand and in a fast walk took her in the bath room. I picked her up and head down held her over the toilet.... "WANT ME TO FLUSH YOU DOWN??? I WILL IF YOU TELL MOM I WENT AND BOUGHT CANDY. "
My sister Joan, 5 years younger than me, and brother Rick, 9 years younger, stood in the door way. "Just do it, Susan, cause she's got a big mouth."
Poor Patrice...crying..."No...No...I promise."
When we were left alone...the sky was the limit... As soon as that car rolled down the driveway...I would turn on the HI FI.... Now there's a term from the past.
I would get out one of mom's favorite record albums....THE SOUND OF MUSIC, put it on the turn table and play it full blast. Singing out loud with Julie Andrews. And this day was no different..
THE HILLS ARE ALIVE...LA DE..DA...WITH THE SOUND...THE SOUND...THE SOUND...
Crap...the album was skipping..there was a chip...she will find out...I'm as good as dead.. .. My life as boring as it is....is over once mom finds out... Why??..because she told me a million times to NEVER touch her record albums.. The Sound of Music....Dean Martin... Frank Sinatra... her entire collection was off limits to me...
At the dinner table that night the four of us sat in panic. I was afraid of mom...Joan and Rick were afraid FOR ME... and Patrice was afraid of the toilet. I had no idea what to do.
The next day when I got home from school..mom was out running errands before dad got home...but damn on the kitchen table was a note addressed to me.
SUSAN... You are in big trouble...you ruined my Sound of Music album and you will be punished when I get home.
Now..here stands a kid scared shitless...Until I had an idea. I told Joan,"You are in charge...I will be right back."
I grabbed the album and rode my bike as fast as I could and rode to K-Mart. I walked in the music department and told them I bought the record here and it skips...so I just want another one. I had no idea where mom bought it. But K-Mart was close. THEY GAVE ME A NEW ONE. Back home I rode, took the paper off the album and put the new one right in place like it was there all the time.
Mom was livid when she walked in and marched to the record player. She pulled the record out like it was a gift from God, placed it on the turn table and turned it on. THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC...and on it went.....
I love you Julie Andrews like never before, I thought.
My mother was in shock."It was skipping before."
"Are you sure mom?"
"Yes I'm sure."
"It must have been a piece of dust," I added.
"Well......maybe."
The next time the four of us were together I reminded Patrice.....the toilet will always be there if you tell...
.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Golf???? Who Me???
My husband, Lynn, wishes I would start golf again. I still have my clubs and shoes but its been ten years since my last game. My theory is...if you are not improving..give it up...it is not your forte'. BUT...he is an excellent golfer and a low handicap to prove it. Over the years we have discussed my riding in the golf cart with him while he plays.
The conversation is something like this....
"How did you play?"
"Not bad. Few good shots...... and then a bad one."
"Well..I need to ride with you, watch that beautiful swing of yours. You make golf look so effortless" (I like to blow a little smoke up his ass.)
This morning he was up at 4:30am for a 6:05am tee time with his friend and his friends wife. Just the three of them. At about 4:45am as he was pouring his coffee.... Stupid me said," I should have gone with you..if I had thought earlier and just ride along."
He got so excited..."WOW...THAT'S A GREAT IDEA...GET DRESSED ..I THOUGHT OF THAT LAST NIGHT BUT WAS AFRAID TO MENTION IT TO YOU. HURRY..GET UP..HOW FUN"
"No...no...its too early", I said, " and too late for me to get dressed...but next time look out..I am riding 18 holes with you guys."
I laid in bed thinking...I have to watch what I say to him because he walked out with the sad puppy eyes..
Then at 6:30am...RING.....RING...RING.. who in the Fuck is calling this early?..
"I have a great idea," he said....
"It better be at 6:30am."
"Meet us at the turn at 8:00am and you can ride with us for the last 9 holes.....OK?...Good idea..Right???"
"I will try....I will drag my ass out of bed...and if it looks like a.... go... then I will call you..."
I am glad I went... I held the flag while they putted...And I was there to remind Lynn when he missed his putt..
"THE HOLE IS OVER HERE."
But he loved that I was there and said..."How about next time you bring your wedge and putter and just play here and there?"....
"Its a go," I said... And I am actually looking forward to it....
The conversation is something like this....
"How did you play?"
"Not bad. Few good shots...... and then a bad one."
"Well..I need to ride with you, watch that beautiful swing of yours. You make golf look so effortless" (I like to blow a little smoke up his ass.)
This morning he was up at 4:30am for a 6:05am tee time with his friend and his friends wife. Just the three of them. At about 4:45am as he was pouring his coffee.... Stupid me said," I should have gone with you..if I had thought earlier and just ride along."
He got so excited..."WOW...THAT'S A GREAT IDEA...GET DRESSED ..I THOUGHT OF THAT LAST NIGHT BUT WAS AFRAID TO MENTION IT TO YOU. HURRY..GET UP..HOW FUN"
"No...no...its too early", I said, " and too late for me to get dressed...but next time look out..I am riding 18 holes with you guys."
I laid in bed thinking...I have to watch what I say to him because he walked out with the sad puppy eyes..
Then at 6:30am...RING.....RING...RING.. who in the Fuck is calling this early?..
"I have a great idea," he said....
"It better be at 6:30am."
"Meet us at the turn at 8:00am and you can ride with us for the last 9 holes.....OK?...Good idea..Right???"
"I will try....I will drag my ass out of bed...and if it looks like a.... go... then I will call you..."
I am glad I went... I held the flag while they putted...And I was there to remind Lynn when he missed his putt..
"THE HOLE IS OVER HERE."
But he loved that I was there and said..."How about next time you bring your wedge and putter and just play here and there?"....
"Its a go," I said... And I am actually looking forward to it....
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Lynn, is my husbands name.......
My husbands name is LYNN... What kind of mother names her son Lynn? I don't know because she passed on before I met him. But I have an idea how the delivery room on May 24, 1943 went.
"Mrs. Larson you have a boy"....
"Are you sure its not a girl???... because I felt certain it was a girl I was carrying, considering I was wide at the hips and I wanted to name her Lynn. So just type LYNN on the birth certificate and I will deal with it later."
Last night LYNN suggested we get an early start and drive to Prescott, two hours from Phoenix, and have lunch.
Really???? I am thinking.... we've never done that...almost romantic... that he would suggest that when he loves to play golf or at the very least watch it ALL DAY on TV. But ok....lets get an early start I think....
Then the other shoe dropped..."Yes....I will play 9 holes or hit some buckets... hurry home..shower and we will be off."
We ended up driving 30 minutes away and going to the outlets to a sale at Polo..30% off anything in the store. For $36.48 we walked out with slacks for him and 2 tops for me. Not exactly romantic but I do appreciate a good deal. We continued on to Cave Creek, a cowboy town with stores that sell GIDDY UP stuff as I call it.
After a great Mexican lunch at a place that I suggested I took him to a place called the TOWN DUMP. Its hard to explain all the crap they sell. Do you remember the TIN MAN in the WIZARD OF OZ? They had him for sale there. Lynn said,"Wow, what do you think of this?" I said,"We don't need him. The Tin Man is not getting into our car." Then he asked me how I knew about all these places? The Mexican restaurant and the Town Dump. Damn I had to admit that when my girlfriend is in town for 6 months we take off all the time on wild trips.... It is so much fun to just jump in the car and just drive... Sometimes we just pick a town we never visited before and go...go.. In Arizona it can be a real adventure.
Lynn seemed a little quiet but maybe that was a little lesson..because he said he had a great time today....and wants to go for another drive real soon.... Maybe Prescott next time????
"Mrs. Larson you have a boy"....
"Are you sure its not a girl???... because I felt certain it was a girl I was carrying, considering I was wide at the hips and I wanted to name her Lynn. So just type LYNN on the birth certificate and I will deal with it later."
Last night LYNN suggested we get an early start and drive to Prescott, two hours from Phoenix, and have lunch.
Really???? I am thinking.... we've never done that...almost romantic... that he would suggest that when he loves to play golf or at the very least watch it ALL DAY on TV. But ok....lets get an early start I think....
Then the other shoe dropped..."Yes....I will play 9 holes or hit some buckets... hurry home..shower and we will be off."
We ended up driving 30 minutes away and going to the outlets to a sale at Polo..30% off anything in the store. For $36.48 we walked out with slacks for him and 2 tops for me. Not exactly romantic but I do appreciate a good deal. We continued on to Cave Creek, a cowboy town with stores that sell GIDDY UP stuff as I call it.
After a great Mexican lunch at a place that I suggested I took him to a place called the TOWN DUMP. Its hard to explain all the crap they sell. Do you remember the TIN MAN in the WIZARD OF OZ? They had him for sale there. Lynn said,"Wow, what do you think of this?" I said,"We don't need him. The Tin Man is not getting into our car." Then he asked me how I knew about all these places? The Mexican restaurant and the Town Dump. Damn I had to admit that when my girlfriend is in town for 6 months we take off all the time on wild trips.... It is so much fun to just jump in the car and just drive... Sometimes we just pick a town we never visited before and go...go.. In Arizona it can be a real adventure.
Lynn seemed a little quiet but maybe that was a little lesson..because he said he had a great time today....and wants to go for another drive real soon.... Maybe Prescott next time????
Friday, August 20, 2010
What is on my ceiling???
I just type away...having a good time.. and for what reason...I do not know but I LOOK UP AT THE CEILING. I have two big Spanish type beams and where the two meet it looks like a bee is stuck. I think I see a wing. I think he is dead. It is too high for me to reach. I need to stop looking at it.... I'll do a Scarlet O'Hara... "I'll think about it tomorrow."
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