As an update, I have had a second date. We made dinner at his place and watched a geeky 80's movie, Tron. If you know what that is, welcome to the club. So, still no kiss (he didn't even try), and no, I am not sad about that. Come one, I just meet the guy. It's not like a friend that I've known forever, just a guy I've seen three times now, and talked on the phone just as much; short hi want to go on a date now that the pleasantries are out of the way conversations. I'm just telling myself not to stress. We don't hang out so I'm on the "is he really interested?" phase of thinking. Sometimes I hate being a girl...and what's with me getting dates in the middle of winter? There is something wrong with me and cold darkness without sunlight and then throw a guy in the mix! Serious, talk about a recipe for disasters.
As for the physics help. Paul, I'll do my best not to scare the boy away. It may be asking for a lot so you may have to keep your fingers crossed and pray for me. ;)
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Sunday, December 20, 2009
So, I had a Date
So I had a date last night. Yes, family, I know you are all shocked for joy. But stop dancing, and sit down, and I'll tell you the story.
Pause, before you start scrolling down to see if there is a doorstep scene, no worries, there is. A second date? Hmm, for that I will make you wait.
Three weeks ago we held a birthday party for my roommate, Alicia. Shea and Lindy did the inviting. So, naturally, neither I nor the birthday girl knew many people. Luckily I was not the focus of attention, and could hide. Which I did, in the kitchen.
Doing dishes may not be a great refuge for many people. What can I say, it worked for me. I did venture out into the rest of the party. Not only to collect dishes either. I actually talked to people, who where mostly boys. It was not, however you may think, one of these forrey's that leads to my story. It me and a boy, in the kitchen.
Retreating to the kitchen after realizing the individuals walking through the door were not familiar, I set to work. I unloaded the dishwasher, and set out more plates, glasses and silverware at the dessert table in the dinning room. Quite a bit like work, I know, but there is safety in familiarity. This was my house, grrr, and it was that or retreat to my room and hide from everyone. As tempting as that sounded, repeatedly, I stayed my ground. With I was at the sink loading dishes when a boy came in. Ok, so may boys came in and out, but this one didn't just politely place their dishes in the sink, ignoring the half open dishwasher. I'd stepped in front of the dishwasher and begun rinsing off the dishes when he came in. He immediately asked what he could do to help. However polite, I turned down the offer with a thanks, but it wasn't necessary. Come now, no one goes to a party to do the dishes, especially not your own. Rather than retreating back into the other room with the other, having at least offered in order to alleviate his conscience, he stayed. He even moved around me and helped load the glasses. Resigned to the help, and rather pleased someone would not take the easy dismissal of their offer, we started to chat.
His name was Nate, though I am sorry to admit I did not retain this through out the remainder of the night. He's a high school physics teacher with astounding blue eyes. A little taller than me, he was easy to talk to and asked me almost as many questions as I asked him. (Hey, I'm good at getting others to talk...most of the time.) Others came in and out of the room, and eventually our conversation slide to the side and disappated.
Later I saw him leaning against the piano. I smiled, recognizing him, and he smiled back. Then came what I can only think in nerve racking for any guy. He non-chalantly asked for my number. Oh, he'd forgotten to get it earlier. Inwardly I laughed. The whole thing was rather smooth. I gave it to him (obviously) and got my own little warm fuzzy for the night.
A boy asked for my number. Even if he never called, it was flattering. For a 45 second flirter that is an impressive feat.
Over two weeks went by, and no word. No surprise for me, I wasn't really expecting anything in reality. It went from a possible date, which was okay, to a shrug of indifference. He probably wasn't that interested. That's fine. No worries, So when last Tuesday night was wrapping up at work, I wasn't expecting the new number calling me to be anyone but another student with a question. This was definately a surprise. We chatted a bit. He sounded somewhat nervous that I wouldn't recall who he was; introducing himself I smiled as he relaxed when I said I remembered who he was. We chatted a bit before he asked if I'd go out with him on Saturday. Dinner, a movie or games, he'd get another couple (if I wanted hung in between the lines). I'm relaxed when it comes to first dates, or the first several dates, so I didn't care and told him so.
Nope, I didn't hear from him again until Saturday. He called to say he was on his way, being fifteen minutes late when he called, I didn't bother calling him back. Luckily he was late. I'd been working on a brie and meat filled pastry for a roommates party while she got ready, and needed a few minutes to wash off the butter.
We went to dinner at Stoneground downtown. He even opened my door, and thought I was cool for waiting. Talk about bonus points. He was a gentleman the whole night. Getting doors, hand in the small of my back, introducing me to people, and being generally aware of where I am the whole night. Sometimes it's the basic things that get lost when out doing things. We drove through the cemetery (they had paper bag lights all over, it was amazing), stopped by his friends going away party (she was a part of OSSA--Amelia's Equador thing), and ended at his house making frozen dough cookies. Really, I had fun. Even when we headed down to watch a christmas movie, and he fell asleep almost immediately after the opening credits. I kicked myself out and he took me home.
Doorstep scene: Hug. Yep, that's it. Ok, not totally, but close. I said good night, and gave him a hug. It was a good hug. Sitting on that line of friendship it was longer than necessary, most definately longer, without the awkwardness. Pretty good talent to have. He let me pull away after the second hesitation, and looked down at me. Yes, I got "the look" and a slight smile. In response he got a returning smile, and the bottom corner of my cheek. Sorry Tanner. He left, and I got butterflies the minute I walked into the door. Nice for them to show up.
All in all, it was fun. Will there be a second date? Who knows. Shea's in his ward and said he told her he thought I was cute (she use a bunch of adjectives) and had fun. She asked about the date/what would happen and he said we'd have to wait and see. She responded that the ball was in his court and he was the boy. ha ha. Great to have roomies helping out. I love that she did that without even hearing about my date.
So, I had a date (yea me) and certainly wouldn't mind another. In fact, I kinda hope it's sooner then later.
:) But that's just me.
Pause, before you start scrolling down to see if there is a doorstep scene, no worries, there is. A second date? Hmm, for that I will make you wait.
Three weeks ago we held a birthday party for my roommate, Alicia. Shea and Lindy did the inviting. So, naturally, neither I nor the birthday girl knew many people. Luckily I was not the focus of attention, and could hide. Which I did, in the kitchen.
Doing dishes may not be a great refuge for many people. What can I say, it worked for me. I did venture out into the rest of the party. Not only to collect dishes either. I actually talked to people, who where mostly boys. It was not, however you may think, one of these forrey's that leads to my story. It me and a boy, in the kitchen.
Retreating to the kitchen after realizing the individuals walking through the door were not familiar, I set to work. I unloaded the dishwasher, and set out more plates, glasses and silverware at the dessert table in the dinning room. Quite a bit like work, I know, but there is safety in familiarity. This was my house, grrr, and it was that or retreat to my room and hide from everyone. As tempting as that sounded, repeatedly, I stayed my ground. With I was at the sink loading dishes when a boy came in. Ok, so may boys came in and out, but this one didn't just politely place their dishes in the sink, ignoring the half open dishwasher. I'd stepped in front of the dishwasher and begun rinsing off the dishes when he came in. He immediately asked what he could do to help. However polite, I turned down the offer with a thanks, but it wasn't necessary. Come now, no one goes to a party to do the dishes, especially not your own. Rather than retreating back into the other room with the other, having at least offered in order to alleviate his conscience, he stayed. He even moved around me and helped load the glasses. Resigned to the help, and rather pleased someone would not take the easy dismissal of their offer, we started to chat.
His name was Nate, though I am sorry to admit I did not retain this through out the remainder of the night. He's a high school physics teacher with astounding blue eyes. A little taller than me, he was easy to talk to and asked me almost as many questions as I asked him. (Hey, I'm good at getting others to talk...most of the time.) Others came in and out of the room, and eventually our conversation slide to the side and disappated.
Later I saw him leaning against the piano. I smiled, recognizing him, and he smiled back. Then came what I can only think in nerve racking for any guy. He non-chalantly asked for my number. Oh, he'd forgotten to get it earlier. Inwardly I laughed. The whole thing was rather smooth. I gave it to him (obviously) and got my own little warm fuzzy for the night.
A boy asked for my number. Even if he never called, it was flattering. For a 45 second flirter that is an impressive feat.
Over two weeks went by, and no word. No surprise for me, I wasn't really expecting anything in reality. It went from a possible date, which was okay, to a shrug of indifference. He probably wasn't that interested. That's fine. No worries, So when last Tuesday night was wrapping up at work, I wasn't expecting the new number calling me to be anyone but another student with a question. This was definately a surprise. We chatted a bit. He sounded somewhat nervous that I wouldn't recall who he was; introducing himself I smiled as he relaxed when I said I remembered who he was. We chatted a bit before he asked if I'd go out with him on Saturday. Dinner, a movie or games, he'd get another couple (if I wanted hung in between the lines). I'm relaxed when it comes to first dates, or the first several dates, so I didn't care and told him so.
Nope, I didn't hear from him again until Saturday. He called to say he was on his way, being fifteen minutes late when he called, I didn't bother calling him back. Luckily he was late. I'd been working on a brie and meat filled pastry for a roommates party while she got ready, and needed a few minutes to wash off the butter.
We went to dinner at Stoneground downtown. He even opened my door, and thought I was cool for waiting. Talk about bonus points. He was a gentleman the whole night. Getting doors, hand in the small of my back, introducing me to people, and being generally aware of where I am the whole night. Sometimes it's the basic things that get lost when out doing things. We drove through the cemetery (they had paper bag lights all over, it was amazing), stopped by his friends going away party (she was a part of OSSA--Amelia's Equador thing), and ended at his house making frozen dough cookies. Really, I had fun. Even when we headed down to watch a christmas movie, and he fell asleep almost immediately after the opening credits. I kicked myself out and he took me home.
Doorstep scene: Hug. Yep, that's it. Ok, not totally, but close. I said good night, and gave him a hug. It was a good hug. Sitting on that line of friendship it was longer than necessary, most definately longer, without the awkwardness. Pretty good talent to have. He let me pull away after the second hesitation, and looked down at me. Yes, I got "the look" and a slight smile. In response he got a returning smile, and the bottom corner of my cheek. Sorry Tanner. He left, and I got butterflies the minute I walked into the door. Nice for them to show up.
All in all, it was fun. Will there be a second date? Who knows. Shea's in his ward and said he told her he thought I was cute (she use a bunch of adjectives) and had fun. She asked about the date/what would happen and he said we'd have to wait and see. She responded that the ball was in his court and he was the boy. ha ha. Great to have roomies helping out. I love that she did that without even hearing about my date.
So, I had a date (yea me) and certainly wouldn't mind another. In fact, I kinda hope it's sooner then later.
:) But that's just me.
Monday, December 14, 2009
I'm just like my mom
Heading into the grocery store to buy dark corn syrup, plastic wrap and sandwich bags proved that parent's habits die hard.
I walked into the store with a short list. I wanted to make some caramel's and noticed the house needed a few other things. On my search for corn syrup, which I ended up finding not on the baking isle but near the pancakes and waffle mixes, I thought that would be the longest part of my quick stop. My roommate sat in the car on a three way call, so I didn't want to spend too much time, and I was feeling a little guilty for taking so long trying to find what I was after.
That didn't, however, bother me once I got started. Heading out I happened acrossed some basket's lined up, in all places, by the cards. Not really expecting a trap, I still slowly approached the odd assortment of kiddie cones and organic black corn chips. I peered in, having not seen any "sale" signs to indicate these where what I though, the discount last minute items. I noticed a bag of flax seeds, picked them up, and noticed the price. Yep, it all went downhill from there.
Several flax seed bags later I'd collected a couple things necessary in my life. At least for the discounted price of 25cents or $1.00. Flax seeds (great for breads, cereals, and smoothies), stone ground whole wheat flour (which I am rather picky about even when buying bread, so I grabbed four), baby pacifiers (essiential, I assure you), oat flour (multigrain here I come), corn meal (course ground of course ha ha, I'm so funny), soy mix (didn't know I could make my own soy milk did ya...now I can), Kotex (hmm), diaper pins (multi colors) and bottle nipples. All in all, I'm excited for my cheap purchases. I think the guy got tired of counting, so gave me some stuff for extra cheap, either that or the 1.50 translated to .50 which is even better. :)
Yep, I called Mom to tell her the news. While telling what I'd bought she interrupted after the pacifiers with "stuff you don't even need!" She wasn't sure whether to congratulate me, or say I'm sorry. Either way, I, like her, felt like I got a great deal.
Now to make sure I actually use the stuff...
Come on baby shower's. I'm ready.
I walked into the store with a short list. I wanted to make some caramel's and noticed the house needed a few other things. On my search for corn syrup, which I ended up finding not on the baking isle but near the pancakes and waffle mixes, I thought that would be the longest part of my quick stop. My roommate sat in the car on a three way call, so I didn't want to spend too much time, and I was feeling a little guilty for taking so long trying to find what I was after.
That didn't, however, bother me once I got started. Heading out I happened acrossed some basket's lined up, in all places, by the cards. Not really expecting a trap, I still slowly approached the odd assortment of kiddie cones and organic black corn chips. I peered in, having not seen any "sale" signs to indicate these where what I though, the discount last minute items. I noticed a bag of flax seeds, picked them up, and noticed the price. Yep, it all went downhill from there.
Several flax seed bags later I'd collected a couple things necessary in my life. At least for the discounted price of 25cents or $1.00. Flax seeds (great for breads, cereals, and smoothies), stone ground whole wheat flour (which I am rather picky about even when buying bread, so I grabbed four), baby pacifiers (essiential, I assure you), oat flour (multigrain here I come), corn meal (course ground of course ha ha, I'm so funny), soy mix (didn't know I could make my own soy milk did ya...now I can), Kotex (hmm), diaper pins (multi colors) and bottle nipples. All in all, I'm excited for my cheap purchases. I think the guy got tired of counting, so gave me some stuff for extra cheap, either that or the 1.50 translated to .50 which is even better. :)
Yep, I called Mom to tell her the news. While telling what I'd bought she interrupted after the pacifiers with "stuff you don't even need!" She wasn't sure whether to congratulate me, or say I'm sorry. Either way, I, like her, felt like I got a great deal.
Now to make sure I actually use the stuff...
Come on baby shower's. I'm ready.
The Christmas tree is up. Red gingham ribbon replaced by a sheer green and gold one. It looks nice. I sit in my chair (by the heater vent) hot cider and book in hand. Can't help but love the sight. Slowly relaxing, my roommate slides into the piano seat and begins a song. Three songs later I close my eyes and feel shoulders lower. My favorite song of her repitore flows off the keys. While not a Christmas song the melody tangles around me in gold. My worn quilt Mother made back in Jr High has batting showing through. I've never gotten around to "fixing" it. I'm sure the same fabric resides in her chest of drawers down the office hall. I can see the hallway looking down at it. Fell the cold floor and chill of Christmas Eve's. Talking of us children determined to stay up all night and sneak upstairs for a peak. Granted, we're all older, that doesn't make a dent in some of our traditions.
I ventured outside in the dark and cold yesterday to listen to Sheri Dew. There is something about how she presents, talks, that reaches me in whys other's don't. I comment to a friend that I think the way she talks. The stories have enough truth that I feel how I felt when that occured to me in a similar situation. My yearnings for hearth and home echo back in the affirmations from accross the pulpit. Each time I listen I want to press pause and savor the Spirit of the place. Of my place there. Where God reaches down and touches my calmed center. To many times the chair is to cold, or my attention wavered. Here, though, it is all gone. Focus is there. This is what it must be like to be so in tune nothing else matters. My odd form of meditation in the midst of a fireside. How odd.
Yet it is this place that I look out from and see. My sister and her new husband. My brother walking the same way I did at his age. My neices and nephews surrounded by the best people I know and love. My parents. These wonderfully flawed people that I love. The ones who taught me to love, teach me to sigh, and cause me to cry in joy and pain. These are the ones I want the best for. Who I know want the best for me. Even when they idiotically think for a moment that if I change this way or that for whatever reason, I'll be happier, complete. We love each other, and what else is love for? For, as an unknown person once said,
"Love sees more, not less
But because it sees more
It is willing to see less."
It is so hard to see more, and be willing to understand how to let the less grow into more when it comes to our siblings. Amunition from years pass ask to be through. Perhaps as we see the next generation grow the patience we didn't have for each other grows. We begin to realize these creatures we've known all our lives are actually people. Adults with feelings, valid by the tendure innocents left into our care by a Father who has always seen us for who we are. Even, as Dad always reminds me, better that I know myself.
Thanks, Dad.
Both of you, for that lesson in love and small glimpses into what I am, and what, therefore, others are.d
I ventured outside in the dark and cold yesterday to listen to Sheri Dew. There is something about how she presents, talks, that reaches me in whys other's don't. I comment to a friend that I think the way she talks. The stories have enough truth that I feel how I felt when that occured to me in a similar situation. My yearnings for hearth and home echo back in the affirmations from accross the pulpit. Each time I listen I want to press pause and savor the Spirit of the place. Of my place there. Where God reaches down and touches my calmed center. To many times the chair is to cold, or my attention wavered. Here, though, it is all gone. Focus is there. This is what it must be like to be so in tune nothing else matters. My odd form of meditation in the midst of a fireside. How odd.
Yet it is this place that I look out from and see. My sister and her new husband. My brother walking the same way I did at his age. My neices and nephews surrounded by the best people I know and love. My parents. These wonderfully flawed people that I love. The ones who taught me to love, teach me to sigh, and cause me to cry in joy and pain. These are the ones I want the best for. Who I know want the best for me. Even when they idiotically think for a moment that if I change this way or that for whatever reason, I'll be happier, complete. We love each other, and what else is love for? For, as an unknown person once said,
"Love sees more, not less
But because it sees more
It is willing to see less."
It is so hard to see more, and be willing to understand how to let the less grow into more when it comes to our siblings. Amunition from years pass ask to be through. Perhaps as we see the next generation grow the patience we didn't have for each other grows. We begin to realize these creatures we've known all our lives are actually people. Adults with feelings, valid by the tendure innocents left into our care by a Father who has always seen us for who we are. Even, as Dad always reminds me, better that I know myself.
Thanks, Dad.
Both of you, for that lesson in love and small glimpses into what I am, and what, therefore, others are.d
Thursday, November 19, 2009
$$ ... give or take
So, everyone who's lived with me for any amount of time, can testify of my love for going to the bank. Ok, so that list would have to include going to the grocery store, to the car repair store, or just about any store. No, the library does not fall under that category, as event my students can attest to. (I'm addicted, at least during those cold dark months from October to March!)
This last week, in a fit of functionality, I stopped by the bank. It's two floors and 300 yards from my office, so after a long and ardjious journey I decided to do something drastic. I deposited some foreign monies!
Shocking, I know.
After returning from Europe, and not recently, I had some Euro's and Czech Koruna's left in my wallet. Yes, I've had them with me the whole time. Well, I expected about 50 bucks, maybe, if I was lucky. More likely it's worth about 25-30. I'm realistic here. Rarely do I keep any cash in my wallet, let alone that much; hence my keeping track of it. Walking up to the clerk I pulled out the currency, and asked if there was any way I could deposit it. He didn't think it was such a random question. But really, in the middle of Utah County, who's going to need any koruna's? Well, to my pleasant suprise, he said he could take all of it (event the koruna's). Next thing I know I've discovered my random 25 bucks is really two hundred fifty six bucks, and some change.
(deep breath) I was carrying How Much?
Yep, twoo hundred plus dollars have been sitting in my wallet for a little over two years.
Guess I should go to the bank more often. :)
:)
PS two posts in one month...I'm improving.
And Paul & Amelia, the rest of the family has learned about the blog, guess you wont be the only ones reading it now. So sad.
This last week, in a fit of functionality, I stopped by the bank. It's two floors and 300 yards from my office, so after a long and ardjious journey I decided to do something drastic. I deposited some foreign monies!
Shocking, I know.
After returning from Europe, and not recently, I had some Euro's and Czech Koruna's left in my wallet. Yes, I've had them with me the whole time. Well, I expected about 50 bucks, maybe, if I was lucky. More likely it's worth about 25-30. I'm realistic here. Rarely do I keep any cash in my wallet, let alone that much; hence my keeping track of it. Walking up to the clerk I pulled out the currency, and asked if there was any way I could deposit it. He didn't think it was such a random question. But really, in the middle of Utah County, who's going to need any koruna's? Well, to my pleasant suprise, he said he could take all of it (event the koruna's). Next thing I know I've discovered my random 25 bucks is really two hundred fifty six bucks, and some change.
(deep breath) I was carrying How Much?
Yep, twoo hundred plus dollars have been sitting in my wallet for a little over two years.
Guess I should go to the bank more often. :)
:)
PS two posts in one month...I'm improving.
And Paul & Amelia, the rest of the family has learned about the blog, guess you wont be the only ones reading it now. So sad.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
I love my brother
It's so simple to say some things. Harder to capture the soul on a page of words. Yet I opened my e-mail at work, and there is a piece of my brother showing up on the screen. Granted, it wasn't (originally) written for me, but it gets a smile and a pause of fresh air. It's at the end of the e-mail; right after rain clears from behind my eyes, and the wet drops dry, leaving me shivering inside when that cold after-the-storm wind caresses me, that I see why I received this small part of who he is inside.
A thank you.
Funnily put in a mocking overtone of idiocy for the past ideals, true. Even so, I get a moment of joy for having such a wonderful soul in my life.
Don't you just love family!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Someone found me. :) Yep, and the first comment? You should talk more about yourself. Ha ha. Like that is what this is about! :D
Truth be told, I don't always find myself intersting. Sure, on the drive to and from work things flow into perfectly literate blog enteries. But, sure enough, I wait until I get home, or longer, and Smake! Brick wall of cyberspace. Sorry Amelia, you'll have to listen to more about other people for a while.
Sort of.
I have these black frames I've been collecting over the last year. They stand empty of anything not put in on an assembly line. Oh, I've pictures for them. On a thumb drive that goes everywhere with me; never managing to make it to any print shop or photo printer. Tragic. This weekend I found a couple more to add to my list.
Aiden & Maxwell, my nephews. Attended thier Aunt Shara's wedding. I was lucky to get a cute shot or two of them. Now all I have to do is find a printer...
Truth be told, I don't always find myself intersting. Sure, on the drive to and from work things flow into perfectly literate blog enteries. But, sure enough, I wait until I get home, or longer, and Smake! Brick wall of cyberspace. Sorry Amelia, you'll have to listen to more about other people for a while.
Sort of.
I have these black frames I've been collecting over the last year. They stand empty of anything not put in on an assembly line. Oh, I've pictures for them. On a thumb drive that goes everywhere with me; never managing to make it to any print shop or photo printer. Tragic. This weekend I found a couple more to add to my list.
Aiden & Maxwell, my nephews. Attended thier Aunt Shara's wedding. I was lucky to get a cute shot or two of them. Now all I have to do is find a printer...
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Shara's Reality
I have this wonderfully beautiful sister. Okay, so I have several. But this one randomly sends out messages to the family that ... well, I'll let you read it for yourself.
After the dishes are washed and the sink has been rinsed out, there remains in the strainer at the bottom of the sink what I like to call, for now, "stuff". Any rational intelligent person would say it is simply a mixture of food particles to big to go down the drain. Composed of carbohydrates ,fat, fiber, bits of protein. Dinner Dandruff.Also a person might simply state the all this "stuff" has been sanitized again and again. First by being cooked, then once again by the hot water and detergent in the sink. No problem right?But any teenager who has been dragooned into washing dishes knows this explanation is a lie! That stuff at the bottom of the sink is toxic waste- a danger to ones health. In other words its about as icky as icky can get.It is only one of the many reasons you have such a high respect for your mom, because she would reach into the sink with her bare hands-BARE HANDS!-and pick up that lethal gunk and drop it into the garbage. To top that, I saw her reach into the wet stinky garbage bag to fish around looking for a lost spoon-BAREHANDED-some kind of mad courage. She eventually found it, mixed in with some scrambled eggs from the day before and a little veggie soup from dinner. I almost passed out when she handed it to me to rinse off. No teenager who wanted to live would have touched that without being armed with gloves, face mask, and stainless steel tongs.Never mind what mom or dad or any adult would say to me. I knew that stuff in the sink strainer was lethal and toxic. It would give you leprosy, or something worse. If you should ever accidnetly touch it, you must never touch any other part of your body until you had scalded, soaped and rinsed your hands three times. Even worse, I knew that stuff could congeal and mush up and mutate into some living thing that would crawl out of the sink during the night and get loose, maybe even come after you.Why not just use rubber gloves you ask? Rubber gloves are for sissies. Besides mom used her bare hands, remember?
Once after dinner I complained to dad that I bet Jesus never had to wash dishes. He agreed, but wisely said that if his mother had asked he would have done it gladly. I scowled and turned back to my sink of ickiness.Dad, however, would take a plunger to the toilet when it stopped up with even worse "stuff". I wouldn't even go into the room when he did it. I didn't want to know.
I imagine giving a speech to a high school graduating class. You could ask how many of them want to be an adult? Independent, on your own? I'm sure all would raise their hands. And then you could give them a list of things grown-ups do:
-clean the sink strainer
-plunge the toilet-wash your stinky uniforms
-watch your kids do donuts in the new car while driving down the hill
-put the live worm on the hook for you
-change diapers, clean pee and poo off the carpet
-Clean ovens, grease traps, and dutch oven pans
-clean up the thrown up spinach on the floor-carry out the garbage
-bury the dead pets when they get run over, or killed by shara
-scrape the doggy doo from the grass
-change a flat tire
-ride in the back of a truck 20 miles with strangers to get some gas for the suburban
You can tell those graduates when they can do all these things they will be adults. Some may not want to face the truth.For some it maybe even worse. When your a kid you think that if they really loved you they wouldn't ask you to take the garbage out. When you join the ranks of grown-ups you take out the trash because you love them. That old cliche hold true, being an adult is dirty work, but someone has to do it.Thanks mom and dad :)
You gotta love it. She reminds me of our Grandma, Beverly J. Robertson, who wrote up in Cody, WY for years. Her column sounds so much like this. I certianly would subscribe to it.
Thanks, Shara
Life
by Shara Robertson
After the dishes are washed and the sink has been rinsed out, there remains in the strainer at the bottom of the sink what I like to call, for now, "stuff". Any rational intelligent person would say it is simply a mixture of food particles to big to go down the drain. Composed of carbohydrates ,fat, fiber, bits of protein. Dinner Dandruff.Also a person might simply state the all this "stuff" has been sanitized again and again. First by being cooked, then once again by the hot water and detergent in the sink. No problem right?But any teenager who has been dragooned into washing dishes knows this explanation is a lie! That stuff at the bottom of the sink is toxic waste- a danger to ones health. In other words its about as icky as icky can get.It is only one of the many reasons you have such a high respect for your mom, because she would reach into the sink with her bare hands-BARE HANDS!-and pick up that lethal gunk and drop it into the garbage. To top that, I saw her reach into the wet stinky garbage bag to fish around looking for a lost spoon-BAREHANDED-some kind of mad courage. She eventually found it, mixed in with some scrambled eggs from the day before and a little veggie soup from dinner. I almost passed out when she handed it to me to rinse off. No teenager who wanted to live would have touched that without being armed with gloves, face mask, and stainless steel tongs.Never mind what mom or dad or any adult would say to me. I knew that stuff in the sink strainer was lethal and toxic. It would give you leprosy, or something worse. If you should ever accidnetly touch it, you must never touch any other part of your body until you had scalded, soaped and rinsed your hands three times. Even worse, I knew that stuff could congeal and mush up and mutate into some living thing that would crawl out of the sink during the night and get loose, maybe even come after you.Why not just use rubber gloves you ask? Rubber gloves are for sissies. Besides mom used her bare hands, remember?
Once after dinner I complained to dad that I bet Jesus never had to wash dishes. He agreed, but wisely said that if his mother had asked he would have done it gladly. I scowled and turned back to my sink of ickiness.Dad, however, would take a plunger to the toilet when it stopped up with even worse "stuff". I wouldn't even go into the room when he did it. I didn't want to know.
I imagine giving a speech to a high school graduating class. You could ask how many of them want to be an adult? Independent, on your own? I'm sure all would raise their hands. And then you could give them a list of things grown-ups do:
-clean the sink strainer
-plunge the toilet-wash your stinky uniforms
-watch your kids do donuts in the new car while driving down the hill
-put the live worm on the hook for you
-change diapers, clean pee and poo off the carpet
-Clean ovens, grease traps, and dutch oven pans
-clean up the thrown up spinach on the floor-carry out the garbage
-bury the dead pets when they get run over, or killed by shara
-scrape the doggy doo from the grass
-change a flat tire
-ride in the back of a truck 20 miles with strangers to get some gas for the suburban
You can tell those graduates when they can do all these things they will be adults. Some may not want to face the truth.For some it maybe even worse. When your a kid you think that if they really loved you they wouldn't ask you to take the garbage out. When you join the ranks of grown-ups you take out the trash because you love them. That old cliche hold true, being an adult is dirty work, but someone has to do it.Thanks mom and dad :)
You gotta love it. She reminds me of our Grandma, Beverly J. Robertson, who wrote up in Cody, WY for years. Her column sounds so much like this. I certianly would subscribe to it.
Thanks, Shara
Monday, April 20, 2009
We've all been there. That random moment when I open my mouth and say something...
profound, awe inspiring... ok, so it was just a random tidbit of odd knowledge or opinion that leaked, highly unsoliciated, from some small section of my brain. Sane, loopy, tired, wired. It doesn't seem to matter. Those of you who have visited often, are always welcome to come back. In other words...
"Thanks for visiting Shanlee's Corner, come back again soon."
profound, awe inspiring... ok, so it was just a random tidbit of odd knowledge or opinion that leaked, highly unsoliciated, from some small section of my brain. Sane, loopy, tired, wired. It doesn't seem to matter. Those of you who have visited often, are always welcome to come back. In other words...
"Thanks for visiting Shanlee's Corner, come back again soon."
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