Props to my friend/coworker, Dana for buying her first house! Good luck and congrats to you, girlie!
Saturday, June 25, 2005
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Happy Father's Day
When I was in elementary school, my mother worked until 4:30pm so the school bus would drop me off at the dry cleaners my grandparents owned and operated, and there I stayed until my mom got off work. There, I learned all the finer points of how to search pockets for anything and everything, and how to tell the difference between silver and clad coins, and silver certificates and plain paper money. My job was to search the coins and pick out the pieces that were silver. "Just look at the edge of the coin, and if it's all one silver color, it's a keeper!" And search I did. And find I did! And those lucky coins went into a cardboard box held together on the sides with masking tape under the counter.
Those pockets were full of things - baggies rolled longways of green dry grassy looking stuff with little seeds, and plastic rappers unopened with something unidentified but round inside clearly marked "TROJAN" that I would not until years later appreciate. Pictures. Money! Papers. Receipts. Safety pins. Rubber bands. Anything and everything, I tell you. And after teaching me the ins and outs of coin and pocket searching, we'd go to the Wag-a-Bag down the street and he'd buy me a coke and some candy, and sometimes, on the way back to the shop, he might make a stop in the 'hood and offer a little old black lady in a dumpy little shack (from which the delectable smell of true soul food radiated) a little money for an antique piece of heaven socked away on some dusty shelf behind a dull picture of a black Jesus. Most had no idea what they had, nor did they care until he seemed interested.
My grandfather was a hard-working business owner for over 40 years, and enjoyed collecting antiques (or as he called it "junk huntin'"),was an avid painter, and a master at woodworking from the most beautiful and functional pieces he fashioned for my grandmother to showcase her collections of porcelain dolls and carnival glass to whimsical and fun pieces such as the carousel horse that sits in my living room and the best wooden likenesses I've ever seen and people have raved over for years - cartoon characters, like Odie and Garfield, and Snoopy.
I wish I could remember all the pieces he's made over the years - the dark wood vanity table he made for me, complete with mirror and flip-up top - inside which was a brilliant blue felt covering, and a piece stitched in the middle which read "Happy 12th Birthday" in dark zig-zag stitch - a perfect gift for a 12-yr-old girl just beginning to use make-up and needing a place to put it all. My mother has it in her bedroom now. The cabinet he made for my sister whose house, at the time, was decorated in a santa fe motif, and this piece made it all come together - shades of green and terracotta, with zig-zaggy cut-outs and a howling wolf - and it came with a smaller box with cut-outs showing her choice of decor. These pieces were made especially for her need to have a place to put her stereo, albums, cd's, and video tapes. The toy boxes that each of the great-grandsons received, my son's for his 1st birthday, with his name in wood cut-outs and in great peepaw tradition, something different on each one - my son's had pictures of toys decoupage-style strategically placed and big rope handles on each side with a brass handle on the lid. My older nephew's had stirrups on the side and a saddle horn for the handle on the lid. The gun cabinet he and the same nephew built when he came of age and began to love hunting as any self respecting southerner should - masculine, with brass catches and hinges.
These things were built with love.
And it showed.
Many days I remember spending with him in his wood shop, 'helping' to build something. Anything. Little wooden toy cars and trucks, and the wheels rolled - and the dump trucks dumped. All wooden pieces. I played with them, and my son played with them as did my nephews when they were small. Yeah, I knew my grandmother was in the house cooking something that was bound to be delicious as was everything she cooked, but who wanted to cook? I wanted to be in the woodshop.
And how about those little wooden stand-alone cabinet boxes he built for both my grandmother and mother - the ones with little compartments to house everything to make coffee with, the water pitcher that goes with the Bunn coffeemaker, filters, etc. and finished off with a heart-shaped-beveled-on-the-back handle to open the little doors. And that's not even the half of it.
And he had an even softer side - the one only my grandmother saw, and seldom spoke about.
Except with her eyes.
And her smile.
Every time she looked at him.
But we saw it.
My grandfather, a once strong and absolutely wonderful man, was ravaged by Parkinsonism coupled with Lewy Body Disease and recently passed away. I miss him dearly, and will always possess a deep love and respect for him and the kind of man he was. The kind we all are/would be infinitely blessed to have had in our lives.
Happy Father's Day PeePaw. We all miss you.
When I was in elementary school, my mother worked until 4:30pm so the school bus would drop me off at the dry cleaners my grandparents owned and operated, and there I stayed until my mom got off work. There, I learned all the finer points of how to search pockets for anything and everything, and how to tell the difference between silver and clad coins, and silver certificates and plain paper money. My job was to search the coins and pick out the pieces that were silver. "Just look at the edge of the coin, and if it's all one silver color, it's a keeper!" And search I did. And find I did! And those lucky coins went into a cardboard box held together on the sides with masking tape under the counter.
Those pockets were full of things - baggies rolled longways of green dry grassy looking stuff with little seeds, and plastic rappers unopened with something unidentified but round inside clearly marked "TROJAN" that I would not until years later appreciate. Pictures. Money! Papers. Receipts. Safety pins. Rubber bands. Anything and everything, I tell you. And after teaching me the ins and outs of coin and pocket searching, we'd go to the Wag-a-Bag down the street and he'd buy me a coke and some candy, and sometimes, on the way back to the shop, he might make a stop in the 'hood and offer a little old black lady in a dumpy little shack (from which the delectable smell of true soul food radiated) a little money for an antique piece of heaven socked away on some dusty shelf behind a dull picture of a black Jesus. Most had no idea what they had, nor did they care until he seemed interested.
My grandfather was a hard-working business owner for over 40 years, and enjoyed collecting antiques (or as he called it "junk huntin'"),was an avid painter, and a master at woodworking from the most beautiful and functional pieces he fashioned for my grandmother to showcase her collections of porcelain dolls and carnival glass to whimsical and fun pieces such as the carousel horse that sits in my living room and the best wooden likenesses I've ever seen and people have raved over for years - cartoon characters, like Odie and Garfield, and Snoopy.
I wish I could remember all the pieces he's made over the years - the dark wood vanity table he made for me, complete with mirror and flip-up top - inside which was a brilliant blue felt covering, and a piece stitched in the middle which read "Happy 12th Birthday" in dark zig-zag stitch - a perfect gift for a 12-yr-old girl just beginning to use make-up and needing a place to put it all. My mother has it in her bedroom now. The cabinet he made for my sister whose house, at the time, was decorated in a santa fe motif, and this piece made it all come together - shades of green and terracotta, with zig-zaggy cut-outs and a howling wolf - and it came with a smaller box with cut-outs showing her choice of decor. These pieces were made especially for her need to have a place to put her stereo, albums, cd's, and video tapes. The toy boxes that each of the great-grandsons received, my son's for his 1st birthday, with his name in wood cut-outs and in great peepaw tradition, something different on each one - my son's had pictures of toys decoupage-style strategically placed and big rope handles on each side with a brass handle on the lid. My older nephew's had stirrups on the side and a saddle horn for the handle on the lid. The gun cabinet he and the same nephew built when he came of age and began to love hunting as any self respecting southerner should - masculine, with brass catches and hinges.
These things were built with love.
And it showed.
Many days I remember spending with him in his wood shop, 'helping' to build something. Anything. Little wooden toy cars and trucks, and the wheels rolled - and the dump trucks dumped. All wooden pieces. I played with them, and my son played with them as did my nephews when they were small. Yeah, I knew my grandmother was in the house cooking something that was bound to be delicious as was everything she cooked, but who wanted to cook? I wanted to be in the woodshop.
And how about those little wooden stand-alone cabinet boxes he built for both my grandmother and mother - the ones with little compartments to house everything to make coffee with, the water pitcher that goes with the Bunn coffeemaker, filters, etc. and finished off with a heart-shaped-beveled-on-the-back handle to open the little doors. And that's not even the half of it.
And he had an even softer side - the one only my grandmother saw, and seldom spoke about.
Except with her eyes.
And her smile.
Every time she looked at him.
But we saw it.
My grandfather, a once strong and absolutely wonderful man, was ravaged by Parkinsonism coupled with Lewy Body Disease and recently passed away. I miss him dearly, and will always possess a deep love and respect for him and the kind of man he was. The kind we all are/would be infinitely blessed to have had in our lives.
Happy Father's Day PeePaw. We all miss you.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Items of note this week:
-I didn't get the ring. Someone had already bought it. Dammit.
-Took my grandmother to the doctor & filled her car up with gas. Yes folks, she is one of those fragilities that still doesn't fill up her own tank.
-Friday night - Cosmopolitians, Crown & Coke. Hubby did drunken karaoke. Hell's Bells. At a very country-redneck-sort-of club. The joint was brimming with all of about 9 people.
-Talked to Lori yesterday.
As I scan the blogosphere, I find some funny stuff. The Bleat and Dooce are two of my daily favs:
-I didn't get the ring. Someone had already bought it. Dammit.
-Took my grandmother to the doctor & filled her car up with gas. Yes folks, she is one of those fragilities that still doesn't fill up her own tank.
-Friday night - Cosmopolitians, Crown & Coke. Hubby did drunken karaoke. Hell's Bells. At a very country-redneck-sort-of club. The joint was brimming with all of about 9 people.
-Talked to Lori yesterday.
As I scan the blogosphere, I find some funny stuff. The Bleat and Dooce are two of my daily favs:
"...if most vampires were pale gangly nerds who spoke in falsettos, “Interview With a Vampire” would be one page long, and consist of two questions: have you ever operated a deep fryer before, and can you start Monday?"
"This coming from a woman who would wash a TIRE IN A WASHING MACHINE and who only moments ago reached her hand into her bra to dig out half-chewed basmati rice. You’re making perfect sense."
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
The perfect ring.
I found the perfect ring today. A jewelery store in our fair town is going under and has a "last 4 days" sale going on during which most of the stock is 90% off. 90%. That like NEVER happens. All during our engagement I looked and looked for a ring that I was happy with. I suppose it's a simple ring, solitaire, preferably princess cut. My only stipulation was it can have no huge jump-out-at-you-flaws in it. It quickly came to me that this ring doesn't exist in my budget. I got a plain band instead, and decided I'd magically happen upon what I wanted later (knowing full well that what I wanted would NEVER be in my price range.)
UNTIL NOW. I found it. Perfect - clear stone, 1/2 carat, princess cut, beautiful setting. Regular $1500, now $153 + tax. Do you hear me? I mean COME ON! HOW OFTEN DOES THIS HAPPEN? Not often enough, I can tell you that. The timing sucks ass. However, I can tell you this - I will have that ring, come hell or high water, if they still have it tomorrow afternoon when I get off work.
I found the perfect ring today. A jewelery store in our fair town is going under and has a "last 4 days" sale going on during which most of the stock is 90% off. 90%. That like NEVER happens. All during our engagement I looked and looked for a ring that I was happy with. I suppose it's a simple ring, solitaire, preferably princess cut. My only stipulation was it can have no huge jump-out-at-you-flaws in it. It quickly came to me that this ring doesn't exist in my budget. I got a plain band instead, and decided I'd magically happen upon what I wanted later (knowing full well that what I wanted would NEVER be in my price range.)
UNTIL NOW. I found it. Perfect - clear stone, 1/2 carat, princess cut, beautiful setting. Regular $1500, now $153 + tax. Do you hear me? I mean COME ON! HOW OFTEN DOES THIS HAPPEN? Not often enough, I can tell you that. The timing sucks ass. However, I can tell you this - I will have that ring, come hell or high water, if they still have it tomorrow afternoon when I get off work.
Friday, June 03, 2005
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
Congratulations!
Your IQ score is 129.
This number is based on a scientific formula that compares how many questions you answered correctly on the Classic IQ Test relative to others.
Your Intellectual Type is Facts Curator. This means you are highly intelligent and have picked up an impressive and unique collection of facts and figures over the years. You've got a remarkable vocabulary and exceptional math skills.
So, am I reasonably intelligent or completely stupid, or what? 129 in relation to what, or who? Dammit.
Hubby starts school this Monday, hopefully a sign of future paychecks to come. [Incidentally - his IQ? 124.*]
In the things I've learned about men catagory: A man without a job will, after a couple of months, decide his wife is satan and blame her for all that isn't right in his life, and make issue with every single thing.
Yes.
Everything.
Including unfilled ice trays.
Ice trays* - you know, those things in the freezer that we fill with water because we have no icemaker.
*I have no doubt intelligence is hubby's strong suit - he's a freaking brain with arms and legs - but, I simply must milk the IQ thing for all it's worth.
Congratulations!
Your IQ score is 129.
This number is based on a scientific formula that compares how many questions you answered correctly on the Classic IQ Test relative to others.
Your Intellectual Type is Facts Curator. This means you are highly intelligent and have picked up an impressive and unique collection of facts and figures over the years. You've got a remarkable vocabulary and exceptional math skills.
So, am I reasonably intelligent or completely stupid, or what? 129 in relation to what, or who? Dammit.
Hubby starts school this Monday, hopefully a sign of future paychecks to come. [Incidentally - his IQ? 124.*]
In the things I've learned about men catagory: A man without a job will, after a couple of months, decide his wife is satan and blame her for all that isn't right in his life, and make issue with every single thing.
Yes.
Everything.
Including unfilled ice trays.
Ice trays* - you know, those things in the freezer that we fill with water because we have no icemaker.
*I have no doubt intelligence is hubby's strong suit - he's a freaking brain with arms and legs - but, I simply must milk the IQ thing for all it's worth.
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