October 30, 2004
October 28, 2004
eclipse
I saw some of it, but didn't get to see it all, the clouds were too thick. I only got one picture..
Orbs
We went into the city cemetery last night (with permission from the caretaker)
and I got some pretty good shots of orbs. I put a little music box on a crypt, and this time, got more orbs than I usually get. Of course, the moon was full, about to be eclipsed, so maybe that helped. Anyway, that was pretty cool!
October 27, 2004
Total Lunar Eclipse
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/6345294/?GT1=5472
Tonight's the last one until March of 2007. Gotta get out there tonight and do some ghost hunting!
*sighs*
People. I love ghost hunting. I love haunting cemeteries. I cain't hep it. However, I am NOT a vampire. I am NOT a witch. I am NOT a ghost. I am nothing but a normal middle aged woman, who enjoys doing paranormal investigations in my free time after midnight, in haunted cemeteries or haunted houses.
*smiles quietly*
Honest.
I got a promotion!!!!!!!
*laughs*
I'm no longer "mammy".
Mom said that when Mikyla talks to her about me, I'm "Sweet Mammy".
I've been promoted!!!
The Girls
Didn't call me to say g'nite tonight. :*(
That makes me feel so lonely. Bleah!
"The leaves...
...will simply blanket the earth, the way they're supposed to do. And all will be fine."
Isn't that a beautiful sentiment?
Bonnie
My Wild Child. Last to be born. The one Sarah calls the "Golden Child". I stayed so angry when I was carrying her. I didn't want another child. I've never kept that a secret from her, because I always knew that she knew that even from the womb.
The minute she was born, she looked at me with this expression.. it broke my heart, made me feel so guilty, it said, "what did I do, why don't you want me?"
Her finger curled around mine and I could only cry for the longest time, then finally apologise to her for being so horrible while I had carried her. I promised her that I'd be a good mother, and promised too, that I did indeed want her...from the second I saw her...that it wasn't that i didn't want HER, I just hadn't wanted another baby. Not at that time.
From the moment she was born, I adored her. Every second I had to spare, was spent holding her, and later playing with her. Teaching her. Laughing with her. She was the light of my life.
Sarah spent a lot of time with mom, so usually it was just me and Bonnie.
Bonnie could do no wrong, Bonnie made me laugh, Bonnie brought me joy. Bonnie was a hellcat.
Bonnie hated church from the get-go. She would cry if she thought that's where she was going. She wanted no part of dresses and ribbons or shiny new shoes. She insisted that the preacher (no matter who it was) gave her a headache. Indeed she would come home from church and lay on the couch for hours, favoring her head, as if she had the migrain from hell, even from the most tender age of 2.
She loved nothing more than quarrelling. Grumbling. Fussing. Fighting with Sarah. Tattling. Taking risks. She's always walked around wearing an expression as dark as a thundercloud... only brightening when she found someone who could and would quarrel with her on her level. Mamaw would rather quarrel with Bonnie than eat.
Nowadays I think the person Bonnie best fights with, is herself. She struggles so hard to be a 'good' person. You can see the turmoil...the grinch doesn't really want to take cindy lou who's christmas stocking...
She's trying so hard to be a good mother. And succeeding. Joel is a happy, healthy little boy, and he adores her.
In case you didn't know it Bonnie, you've come a long way...and I'm proud of you.
Sarah
My first born. The one Bonnie calls the "golden child". When she was a little girl, she was my golden child. This is going to sound corny, I know, but bear with me anyway.. keep in mind this is just the rambling of a mother.
She was raised in church. At first, I didn't take her, for years, mom did. Sarah knew how to be still and listen to the sermon. She was 'preaching' by the time she was three. Singing most of the songs in the hymnal by heart by 4. I used to watch her, amazed that she was my child. She'd see to it that we prayed before eating. She'd remind me that Jesus loved me when she sensed I was having a bad day.
Sometimes she'd pick up a hairbrush, climb up on my coffeetable, put the brush to her lips, pretending it was a microphone, and she'd start 'preaching'. She'd preach for hours, literally.. repeating what she'd learned in church. She would warm up and then start preaching harder, more passionately, slapping her thigh for emphasis as her sermon became more heated.
I knew she was going to make a difference in the world. I was certain of it. When I started going to church, I'd watch her..and get cold chills. I knew she was special. Not just because she was my child, but because she was truly
golden. Her aura. The child was literally wrapped in the protection and the light of God. Anyone with eyes could see that, and did. I just knew this child was going to make a difference in the world. Somehow.
At that time, I was terrified if I had to spank her. I remember having to spank her to get her to stay out from behind a pony. He was wild, and I was afraid he was going to kick her. I remember cringing as I did so, just positive that God would open the heavens and send a bolt of lightening down, smiting me on the spot.
We drifted away from church, when the girls got older. All of us. Our lives were full and busy, prayers at mealtime were forgotten. Once in a while we still tugged out our bibles and read from them.. once in a while. Sarah's aura changed, the gold dimmed, but never really died.
For a long time, she lived her life, busy, running here, there, working, dating, marrying, eventually having children.. doing her Sarah things. Getting into trouble, laughing, getting out of trouble, but always, always with the most tender heart. She never could stand hurting someone. She never could bring herself to judge anyone. She never could make herself 'tattle' on anyone.
She's done what all of us have done, experienced life, tasted adventures, laughed, cried, had good times and bad times. Sometimes she's been an outright shit. *laughs* But haven't we all? Those times though, eat her up inside. She can't stand it until she's apologised and made things right. Even sometimes when she had every right to be a shit.
I love this child. In her, I still see the golden aura. Sometimes it dims, but it's there. She has the potential to do wonderful things in this world...and I still know she's going to make a big difference...as I know she's already made differences in the lives of so many of those she's touched.
No one is going to pull the wool over this child's eyes. No one earthly is going to move this mountain. No one is going to make her do anything she doesn't want to do. And no one is going to hurt her. Of that, I'm certain. She still has that protection. I think it's there for a reason.
In having 'feelings' or.. 'premonitions' tonight, I'm feeling like hard times are coming her way. I'm feeling like she's going to have a burdon. I hope it's not too heavy. I'm sure if it is she can bear it.
In case you didn't know it, Sarah, I'm proud of you.
October 26, 2004
Very Peculiar Thoughts
Have you ever had a premonition? Can you tell the difference from a premonition and an anxiety attack? Sometimes I can't tell. I don't have anxiety attacks nearly so much as I used to. So .. this must be a premonition. A portent. Something's coming.
I don't know what. I don't know when. This whole week has left me feeling expectant. (Not pregnant) The phone rings and I'm just sure that "here it is..."
Have you ever met a stranger on the street, or in a store.. looked into his or her eyes...seen their faces turn into a skeleton, just morph from a human into something hideous, and know that they're dying? No, not in time, like we all are dying, but dying and soon. You can't warn them, you can't say, hey, your time is limited, very limited, you'd better tie up loose ends. You can't say... wow, you're dead and you don't even know it yet. All you can say is a tentative, 'be careful' as you walk away.. and that, coming from a stranger, is enough to unnerve them to look behind and watch you walk away while they walk out in front of a car. Yes.. it's better to close your eyes for a moment, and open them slowly, then pass as though you saw nothing at all.
Visions can be frightening.
Premonitions are annoying. Visions, though scary, let you see what's going to happen. Premonitions only hint. They're like a puzzle. They may or may not be precise. They could be playing games. One thing may mean something different altogether. I'd rather have a vision. They're far less frequent. And make more sense.
Bullies on A&E
It was a sad show - Sunday I think. Bullies causing kids to kill themselves. Lordy that bothers me. The kids didn't want to fight back, so just killed themselves. One little boy, 14, confronted his tormentor, then pulled a gun, but instead of killing the bully as I thought they were going to say he did, the child put the gun to himself and pulled the trigger.
They showed a woman who goes from class to class, school to school, teaching the kids how wrong it is to bully. Telling them the consequences, showing them what hurts.. and she did so without mincing words. I think she's great, and that has been a long time in coming. They need 1 class each semester dedicated to teaching how not to bully, and how to handle one.
For me, the best way to handle them is to just walk away, and then ignore them. Completely. No reaction is the best course of action. For me. I used to have a friend who turned out to be the most obnoxious bully I've ever known. Belittling, argumentative, and God forbid I disagreed with her. Like a dog with a bone she'd nag and nag until I answered her, and if my reply didn't suit her she'd start her belittling. She'd cause arguments between friends, carry tales,
get angry, then apologetic, angry again, push away, pull to her, push away, there's no pleasing a bully.
To want to kill myself over one? Never! Living and ignoring them drives them CRAZY! So if you're ever bullied, please, don't kill yourself.. don't sit and take it. Don't try to stay friends and overlook it. Walk away. No reaction. The bully will stomp and storm and scream and rant and rave, have a hell of a time forgetting the 'slight'.. but in the end, you'll surely see more peace in the long run.
Did you know...
That you can kill yourself on an ordinary kitchen chair, if you try to get up too quickly, scooting the chair back as you rise, only the chair doesn't scoot... it flops over backwards instead, knocking you down then throwing you through the wall behind you?
Row, Row, Row Your Boat...
Gently down the stream..
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily...
Life is but a dream.
What the hell does that mean, anyway?
The Kittens are Democrats!!
Their eyes are finally opened!!!!!!
(take no offense folks, these political jokes are just that, jokes, really. no. really! *laughs* REALLY!)
Neopets
I love my neopets. I've had them for quite some time, yet only recently have I taken the notion to gather a million neopoints and then give them all away on the money tree. But.. for the life of me I can't seem to save anything. I end up spending them on my shop. Endless games to win points, to buy stock, and somehow I only have 900 points.
I was playing the potato counting game while ago, when mikyla had to choose that moment to ask my age.. 13, 14, 18, 22.. 43.. ZZZZZZZonk, wrong answer. Why, why did she ask me that question right when I was doing so well?
I checked with the wizard and the Rest in Peace of Chicken that I was after costed 10 thousand neopoints. So.. I tried to win that many points, and finally did.. I went back to the wizard to buy my Rest in Peace of Chicken, but.. THE PRICE WENT UP TO 12 Thousand Neopoints! What the heck?! I was only playing the games for a little while, for cryin' out loud, 2 thousand neopoints increase in price for the Rest in Peace of Chicken in less than an hour?
*sighs resignedly*
Is the president of Neopia a Neorepublican?
October 25, 2004
Joel Shares!
For the first time, Joel started sincerely sharing night before last. We were at Lisa's watching Van Helsing, (pretty good movie, fantastic special effects, by the way) and Nick made some popcorn.
I kept giving joel one and two kernels, watched that he didn't choke, then I'd give him more. He came to me for some more and I didn't have any in my hand, but he had 2 kernels. He looked at my empty hand for a few seconds, then he took one of his kernels and put into my hand. *laughs* he really and truely shared! He's been sharing like that since! How cool is that?
All About Farts
Miss Manners would be proud.
Nickleodean. Just now. A minute long lesson on flatulence. What you eat determines what your fart smells like, they just said. If you eat this you get that smell.. if you eat that.. you get this smell.. "so.. be smart.. know your farts, and let 'em rip."
Unbelievable.
October 22, 2004
October 18, 2004
Bonnie's Baaaack...
Her car is messed up again, so until it's repaired she's staying here so she'll have a ride back and forth to work. Poor kid.. if she didn't have bad luck, she'd have no luck at all!
"Mammy! Your toilet is throwing up!"
It did just what you think it did. One of them put in a bunch of toilet paper and wahlah, the toilet got sick at its stomach!
Tears on My Back
I have the kids again tonight, just finished getting their baths over, and all 3 are tucked into bed, the girls here beside me, watching "All Dogs Go to Heaven 2".
I always bring them a snack for their bedtime movie and tonight it was a Hershey bar. Lord how they love those.
Mal savored hers.. letting it melt slowly in her mouth, her eyes half closed as if she were experiencing paradise, Mikyla wolfed hers down so fast I don't know if she even tasted it. Joel's in his own crib so he didn't get chocolate.. he'd have never gone to sleep tonight.
Anyway.. Mikyla pops her head up and moved over here to give me a hug, her head on my back, "Mammy can I have another one?"
"No honey, you had one and you've not had your Zyrtek in 4 days, I'm afraid to give you more now.. one is enough."
She started crying. Real tears. On my back.
"Please Mammy, just one more."
I said, "Mik... if you get sick, it's going to make me really sad..so stop crying now and watch your movie."
She went back to her spot and is watching it, and Mallory slipped her half of her own candy bar, but.. Mikyla wouldn't take it. She doesn't want to get sick. These girls are something else.
October 16, 2004
Lonely
High on top of a hill, with the wind blowing the leaves from the trees in early October...and the night sky moving quickly above...there's a grave at the far corner, glowing at the head and foot. Lanterns on the sides of the stone, solar lights weakly reflecting a beautiful scene on the stone. The words "I'll meet you on the other side." - and the wind still blows the leaves overhead. On the tombstone is a florescent star...and on the bench is a florescent heart. My first thought is that he must have been afraid of the dark. The next.. how lonely the people are who had to put him there.
October 10, 2004
The Soapman
October is the perfect month for this guy. Papaw used to tell us as children, that if we didn't behave, the Soapman would come get us. I didn't ask him who that was, just the threat told me that he was someone I'd not want to meet up close and personal.
I imagined him in a dark wide brimmed hat, a big dark trench coat and boots. Pants too big and dragging the ground until the hems were frayed. His hands would be withered and arthritic, but still amazingly strong holding onto our collars, dragging us off to soapman-land.
His nose is long and crooked, pointing downwards over thin stingy lips, he's terribly wrinkled - he has to be, because he was probably over a thousand years old. Someone called the soapman who came for bad children most certainly had to be immortal.
I was smart enough to know he wasn't really made of soap. He just looked like it. I figured out in my own head, that his face was melted looking, probably like soap that had been left in a tub of bathwater.. but really he'd probably been in a fire which scarred him badly enough to leave him looking like melted soap. Oh how I dreaded any sort of confrontation with the Soapman.
Nowadays, in exhasperation, when the kids try to get outside in the dark alone, and they do, I resurrect the Soapman. He lives! He's out there just beyond the fence, watching, waiting, just looking for a young child unaccompanied by an adult in the dark, ready to drag them kicking and screaming to soapman-land.
*laughs*
Lordy forgive me youngins, but who knows, maybe not the Soapman, but something icky might be out there waiting to do something mean. Better safe (and a tad scared alone in the dark out there) than sorry.
Ah Damn
I leave the comments boxes on sometimes, and I'll be danged if those flakey folks who work for drug companies, penis enhancements and casinos, and crap like that don't fill up my comments boxes with their danged urls to their danged sites. I delete them but if I've missed some, sorry, just ignore 'em! I've banned their ip numbers too, but they just come back with new ones! Rat Bastards!
October 05, 2004
Meatloaf, Meatloaf, double beetloaf, I HATE meatloaf.
I'm supposed to cook one for everyone tonight, and make ribs for Nick, but I think I'm gonna beg out. I think I'm gonna be lazy again today and just straighten the house and then lay around while they play. I don't feel very good. I think we have another virus going thru the house. Bleah!
Too Early. Sarah you suck!
I was snoring, I know I was. Sleeping soundly. It was 6:30 this morning. I felt Mikyla nudging me, whispering to me with a terrified voice begging me to wake up. I sat up wondering why the world they were awake so early when I heard the rapping noise on my bedroom window. It sounded like someone's christmas lights had come loose and was moving against the window in the breeze. I got up trying to figure out what it was.. Mikyla begging me to stay awake and get on my computer so she's not ascared.. and the noise stopped. I went to the living room, meaning to peek out there to see what that was.. and saw someone walk past the door. I yelled out "Who's Out there?!" Meekly, Sarah replied "It's me.".. she said she couldn't sleep so came over here. She'd been tossing pebbles at the window to wake us to let her in. I told her she'd scared the girls to death, and let her in. Sheesh. Now the girls are up for the day, television blaring. Sheesh. Thanks a ton, Sarah! You SUCK!
A Bad Dream
I dreamed that Stan and I were at the court house. We were on the ground floor, renewing licenses or paying taxes, I'm not sure really what we were doing. We could see outside though, and he was holding Mallory. I don't know where the other kids were, but the clerk was busy and said she'd be with us soon.
The Sheriff was behind us, watching a couple outside. They were bickering. At first they looked very old, but while I watched through the window, I could tell that neither one of them was older than 30. They were thin and gaunt and had hard lines around weathered, weary faces. Time and circumstance caused them to appear older, much older than they actually were. I glanced back at the sheriff and he was watching them intently, as if he knew they were going to do something illegal. The clerk too seemed edgy and reluctant to wait on us until the couple had gone from our view.
In a few minutes, the clerk shouted for the sheriff to get a warrent, that 'he's hurting her'.. I followed her eyes and sure enough the guy had walked across the street with the woman and now had her down on the ground. He was astradle her, choking her and soon she was limp. The guy got up and started to run but the sheriff was on him in an instant, bringing him to his knees, and then finally cuffing his hands behind his back.
As we watched from the window, the sheriff walked to the woman who was lying still on the ground, and he called back to the clerk, that she was dead. My heart sank, I knew Mallory had her little eyes feasted on the whole affair, and even as I was thinking that Mallory was seeing this, my eyes watched as the woman started to move. I wanted to call out to the sheriff that she wasn't dead that she was getting up, for him to look, but I couldn't find my voice.
I watched as the woman pulled a gun out of the front of her pants and aimed at the Sheriff. He turned back to her just in time to take the bullet right between his eyes. Blood gushed and yes, this dream was in color, he crumpled to the ground, dying instantly. As he fell I reached for Mallory to force her to turn away from seeing that. She'd already seen, and was instantly questioning me.. Mammy why did that woman make that man bleed? Ugh. What a horrible dream.
Flashbacks.
Mikyla has severe conductive hearing loss. The doc hopes to treat it with a 2nd round of tubes and removing her adenoids. Pray for her that it works.
My mind movies have gone back in time for the past few days, back to the 'olden' days, when I was a child. Moving so fast, I sit here watching myself at different ages, listening to conversations this ghost child had with people I've not seen in years, hell, with people I've not thought about in years. The words seem verbatum. Their sound is tinny and canned.. as if the girl in my mind movie is in an empty room. A bit of an echo, but mostly canned.
I see her go from Miss. Nusam's Kindergarten class, reserved, huge eyes, long dark curls, neatly dressed, just watching everyone else in the room. Not participating, just watching. Most of the other kids chattered to each other easily. A few were like me, taking it all in, wondering what we were doing there.
Ghostly songs pass, paper clocks with plastic hands, bright orange and brown, fade and the only memory left is the one where the older girl locked me in the bathroom stall, begging me to let her see my "bum" as she called it. I was inside the stall, terrified, but sure the teacher would miss me and come get me soon. She didn't...and 3 or 4 faraway bells later the older gal left and I felt safe enough, finally, to unlatch the wooden slatted stall door and run back to my classroom.
There, Miss Nusam was waiting to crack my nuckles with brightly colored rhythm sticks that were handy there on her desk. She demanded to know where I'd been, why hadn't I returned from the break with the rest of the class? Confused, still frightened, a new feeling of embarrassment of possibly having to tell her that some girl had wanted to see my behind in the bathroom, I stammered a lie. "I just took too long getting an extra drink of water." That got my knuckles 3 sound cracks with her sticks. It hurt like hell, but I think what was worse was how the other children looked, horrified that the quiet girl just got in trouble. The class was pretty subdued for days after that.
Later, towards Christmas, she was trying to teach our class some Christmas songs. She wanted someone to be in the Christmas play. I didn't know anything she was singing, but finally she came to "Away In A Manger". I knew that one all the way through, and I think I was the only one who did. I sang it with her, strong and clear. She had me do the song on stage wearing an angel costume that Mom and Mamaw had made for me. That was pretty cool. I wasn't scared. Looking back now, I can't believe that I wasn't scared. I must have been a ham.
I don't know if I'll have the teachers name's right, or the grades correct, but I'll try to get it right. I'm not sure when in grade school that classes change, and homerooms come into play.. but I do remember being in diffrent classes.
In first grade, I think it was, I met Mr. Jacob. A darling old grandfatherly teacher. He'd ramble for hours on nothing in particular. One of his favorite things to talk about was his watch. A gift from his son. Every time he spoke of it, he would touch a button on the watch and show us one of its features. He's the teacher who taught me to tap dance. I loved doing that, but.. alas.. I dance like a...board. Still it was fun practicing to the A-Train.
I loved Mrs. Mack. She was a black teacher, I want to say 2nd grade.. She was friends with the Librarian, I want to say her name was Miss. Martin, but I can't really be sure. I do remember being in the library one day, settling down with a book. Miss. Martin asked me to deliver a note for her upstairs to Mrs. Mack. I went happily, and waited, smiling while Mrs. Mack write her reply and asked me to give it back to Miss. Martin for her.
I did this, then started to return to my seat and my book, but Miss. Martin wasn't yet finished with her note writing. Again she asked me to wait and then deliver the note upstairs. This went on 5 or 6 times, and by then I knew my library time was almost over, and I was highly vexed that I hadn't gotten to look at my book. I was standing by Miss. Martin's desk, waiting for what seemed to me hours, for her to finish her note, and I must have sighed.. which must have sounded like a vexed huff to the teacher.. she looked up at me with these.. wow, even more irritated than I was ..eyes.. this look scared me all the way down to my socks.. and she asked me if I'd rather be elsewhere. I answered honestly, yes, I'd like to be reading my book.. oops.. boy that made her mad. *laughs* She told me off...she told me I was too impatient, and I was going to stand there, stop shuffling, stop huffing and quietly wait until she finished her note. I swear I think she added 3 more pages to it just to be sure to show me who was boss. I never shuffled impatiently around her again.
The movie moves to Mr. Nadler. The music teacher. He was awesome. He could yell as loudly as any other teacher, but he did it with kind eyes and a soft 'oh lordy i didn't mean that' voice when the air was clear. I never learned a note in the 3 or 4 years I was in his music class.. the violin. I was there to learn to play the violin. I remember 2 boys who used to play in the back of the room.. Jean Dutke, and Robert Burgess. They played the violin (to my ears) like a dream.
I'd often stand or sit there, bow in my hand, violin up beneath my chin, just listening to them, wondering where on earth they learned to play like that. I'd been in every lesson they'd been in, but somehow I must have missed hearing something that they'd heard. Some.. quietly given instruction, that only the two of them had paid attention to. I was given to daydreams, and most likely was out in a field of wildflowers in my mind when those instructions were given, and over time, Mr. Nadler just accepted that I wasn't going to learn, so he let me get away with either faking it, or playing by ear when I was familiar with the tune. During hallway recitals, or auditorium concerts, I was right there with them, moving my bow furiously, never touching a string. Or standing there, bow to the floor, violin under my chin, ready - just in case we were going to play "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star."
Mr. Sneed, the science teacher was difficult to get to know. He seemed uncomfortable in his own skin, one minute smiling and nice, the next, this scowl on his face that told us he hated the world and everyone in it. Still, when he got into the science teaching business, it took me to another place. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the experiments. The science fairs. Two projects come to mind. One report I did on game fish. Mr. Sneed commented, "Excellent work, but tell me. Did you do it on Game Fish because you like Game Fish, or because your dad had the book?" The second was the 2 jars, one full of water, one empty with a rope going from one to the other. The full jar would drain into the empty one, via the rope, back and forth, back and forth, that was pretty neat.
Mr. Wloch was my favorite teacher there. Another grandfatherly type, he was so smart, he grabbed our minds and just taught his heart out. He did it with a mix of concern for us, as well as the love he had for teaching. He used props, stories, the chalkboard, books, photos - you're heard of "using your resources"? He certainly did that. I think the most of anything I ever learned while there, was learned in his class. It made me sad when I learned that he'd passed away.
One memory that comes to mind when I think of him, is how he had me seated all the way across the room from the chalk board. I couldn't see. I went for weeks asking the girl behind me what on earth was writting on the board. Finally I decided to write to Mr. Wloch. I wrote on a torn sliver of paper.. "I can't see the board. Can you move me closer?" When the bell rang, I threw it at him and quickly left the room, embarrassed that I couldn't see. The next day he moved me closer to the board, and after class he stopped me at the door. He asked me why I'd written the note and didn't just tell him that I couldn't see. "Are you afraid of me?" He wanted to know. I wasn't. I was just embarrassed. Bless his heart, he went above and beyond the call of duty after that to be sure that I wasn't afraid of him. Asking if I could see, if I was too cool, too warm, was there enough light. He truly was a doll.
Mrs. Pudas. Egads Mrs. Pudas was something else. The woman struck terror in all of our hearts, and when she passed out the Weekly Reader, her bracelets clanged gently against her watch, her perfume moved up the aisle, and we sat quietly listening to her tell us what to read, when to read it and making mental notes on what to say about what we'd read. We'd be quizzed. We always were. All of us. No one was left behind in there.
"If there's a will.. there's ALWAYS a way." Was her creed.
She'd say that 2000 times a day. No one "didn't do their homework".. no one cut up or passed notes, she was all business and if you didn't agree, you wore the dunce hat (honest to God) and you sat in the corner in the baby chair, humiliated in front of your classmates. My cousin Lee sat in the Baby chair, wearing the Dunce hat more consecutive days in that class than anyone else ever had.
After I moved down here, Mrs. Pudas began sending me Christmas newsletters. Like clockwork, she'd send them to me, telling me what all she'd accomplished during her year. What new family member had been born, which had passed away, which had graduated with honors, where she'd gone on vacation. They were pretty neat to get. One year I didn't get it. I guess that was the year she passed away. I haven't recieved one since. She adored me. I wonder if she knew I was scared to death of her? And a little pissed too. *laughs* She's the one who finally ratted on me to mom.. that I couldn't see and needed glasses. She's the reason I got stuck wearing what mom called "the cutest little pink cat eye with stars all over them, glasses." Egads.
P. E. Good God I hated that class. Mr. Smith I think was his name.. expected me to climb that rope. A good 30 feet in the air. We were supposed to do it or we'd not pass. Lord how I tried. I had to pass.. I had to get out of that class. I never did make it over 2/3's the way, and I passed anyway. That's the wreched class where they insisted on us playing dodge ball at least 3 times a week. That damned game was a nightmare. Big red rubber balls, stung like hell when they slammed into my face sending my cat eye glasses flying across the gym floor. Paul Rajnish. The kid was murder with a dodge ball. I HATED that frickin' game.
Anyway. More of this later. I'm going to get some sleep. I'm tired. It's late.
I'll have to scoosh Mikyla and Mallory over though, they've stolen my whole bed. Rascals.
G'nite World.
October 03, 2004
Truly Jumbled Thoughts
Mikyla's sleeping behind me, snoring so loudly it's impossible to believe a little girl can sound like that, I have to turn around to be sure it's her and not a lumberjack!
We had such a good day - Warren's Camp was a bust, we got there but didn't find a cemetery or an old slave place. We did find a nice cemetery closeby, and I got some good shots of it, but it was a pretty now-a-days cemetery, nothing close to the slave graveyard Sarah was trying to show me.
I gave Mikyla a Polaroid camera full of film...I figured she'd have a better shot of catching ghost writing than the rest of us would (the caul, you realize) but while she did get a gigantic orb (the biggest I've seen so far) she didn't get any ghost writing. We'll have to try again another time. I'll post that orb pic when I get it, Sarah had it tonight showing it to her mom-in-law.
We went to the old bridge in Artemus and I got a shot of a nice mist towards the top of the bridge. It was in 2 shots, one lower than the other. It had moved a few feet in the space of 10 to 15 seconds.
Then we went through another cemetery I've been dying (not literally) to get into, but was blocked with a cable.. it was opened this time.. so I took shot after shot, knowing it'll be a long time before I'm lucky enough to get in there again. Boy that place has some old stones. I love cemeteries like that one.
All total, I got 15 disks of photos today. It'll take a year for me to get them all posted!
Dad's fine, the hurricane hit hard there, but he's fine. Thank God.
Mikyla is hard of hearing. Truely. Her doctor said that the tube has fallen out of one ear, and the other is lodged deep inside the other in wax..they're sending her to a specialist on Monday to find out what to do about it. She's not deaf, but she can't hear unless we practically shout, and the television has to be full blast to sound like it's on 'low' to her. I hope they get that taken care of quickly. She's beginning to slur her words when she speaks and it's obvious she's having a hard time. Bless her heart, I can't stand it, she has to get this fixed and fast! There's too much she needs to hear that she's missing out on.
Mallory is plain ol' southern born and bred. She told us that her ice cream "ma-ol-ted", her slow, country drawl cracked me up. I think she's got the thickest hillbilly accent I've ever ever heard and it's hilarious to hear and pretty tough to translate!
I didn't see Joel today. He spent the night night before last and went home yesterday about 1:30, and Bonnie's off again today, but he'll be back tomorrow around 2.
My dog is doing ok, she went out with us today on our cemetery haunts, and she took off into the woods at every place we went but when we got ready to leave she came bounding back. Her going was an accident, we put her in the yard and by the time we got to the highway there she was panting at the side of the car. That's one determined dog. It was either leave her there and risk her getting hit or taking her with us, so .. with us she went. I never did care much for a dog in the car, and I still didn't today. The dog kept farting and my GOD did she stink. I blamed it on Mikyla and she got afronted.. No! Mammy! I didn't do that! That was comical. We're gonna have to do something about Smiley's diet. Or invest in some Beano. Now I know why they call her smiley.
Nick hung out with us tonight, we went through another cemtery - got some more shots, and I hope to get them posted one of these days.
I'm going to make a head shaped meatloaf tomorrow, like the one I saw on Roseanne last night. I thought that was pretty cool. I bet no one will eat it.
*laughs* but I could use a pic of it on my card shop!
We went to Mom's and Lisa's too - Mikyla made full rounds with her camera, and she took some neat shots, I'll post them in another entry here, maybe in a while. Maybe tonight. But.. I should be sleeping, we're getting up to go to Whitaker tomorrow. Lisa and Nick have to see it! The thing is.. I'm not sleepy!