Pumpkin Cookie

It's a B.D. story!  (before David)

I have told this story a million times, but I don't believe I have blogged it.  A patient came in today and asked if someone was buried next door, thus the story crept back into my head.  Let me 'splain.

My office building is located between an empty bakery (East End Bakery) and an empty lot, which was the site of Palmer's Barber Shop, where my brother Jerry would always get his hair cut, and shellacked when we were kids.  I don't know what kind of of goop Mr. Palmer used, but it stunk to high heaven.  At the edge of the sidewalk there is a foot stone. Wait, let me show you.  (ah technology)

Apparently Mr. Palmer was known as the "Mayor of East End", and no, he isn't buried there.

So let us return to the good ol' seventies.  I'm going to guess it was '75 because I wasn't in school full time yet, and I know it was fall because of the cookie later in the story.  I would have just turned five.  It was an Indian summer afternoon, and conditions were very dry.  Dry enough for a train to start a wildfire on the other side of the big highway, and that's where the trouble began.

Oh, and I guess it's important to know that I was in no way, shape, or form allowed to be next to, let alone cross highway two.  Period.

I was playing down the block at Vicki's house, and her older sister Paula (Vicki's Mom was at work.)  wanted to take the two of us across the highway to see the fire. I guess in my five year old mind it was alright to go along, because Paula was older and was with us.  Then again, my Mom was home, I should have asked her, but I knew she'd say no, so......la di da.   

On this particular day my brother Jerry was going to Palmer's for a hair cut, then we were picking up Dad from work. Way back in the day we were a one car house, like most folks, so if Mom had things to do we would all have to bring Dad to work and pick him up.  I will assume I was supposed to be home at a particular time, and when I didn't show up my Mom would have had to go looking.  Some neighbor must have seen us cross the highway, because she found me.  (insert scary music)

I have no memory of crossing the street.  I recall the smell of fire, but not the fire itself.  I was more interested in the frogs hopping away from it, and dancing around in the tall grass. It was very windy out, and there I was with my lil freckled face, dancing and twirling, pony tails bouncing, and I VIVIDLY remember whirling around to see the car pull up, and my Mother getting out.  Things are a little sketchy after that.  I'm fairly certain I got a swat.  We went to the haircut, then to the bakery and each got a cookie.  It's the cookie that always stands out for me, and usually triggers my memory of the story.  It was a hard, pumpkin shaped sugar cookie, that had those big sugar granules (orange) on it, with a raised outline of the triangle eyes, nose, and mouth. Then off to get Dad, and I'm sure we discussed it the whole way home, while I ate my cookie, which is probably why seeing those cookies always unnerves me a little. :)

You can imagine how peeved my Mother was.  First I wasn't home on time, then I disobeyed, crossed a dangerous highway, to go to see a fire...... lets just say that Tater comes by some of her ways honestly. 

When my Mother would talk about the incident she would say "Paula got spanked, Joanie got grounded for two weeks, and I got Vicki, because her Mother felt bad."  I didn't get off the hook because I was five and led astray,  I knew the rules, the end.  Ah, life with a Mother who was a former nun. 

Hamstrings and Salmon

TGIF!  This Friday will be starting off with Happy Hour as usual, (at Keyport) but then things are going to go a little more low key.  First of all I pulled my right hamstring, and on occasion it hurts like an s.o.b.  I almost said s.o.b. when I went to sit on the floor with the kids at nap time.  The son part came out, then I clamped my mouth shut.  The spiderman ice pack came in handy!  Lisa wanted to go to the Spartan game again, but I just don't think I can manage sitting on the bleachers.  Ouch!  Beautiful night for it though, and  this is probably our last summer weekend if the long range forecast is to be believed.  That little weather man who irritates me said the "s" word a few days ago.  Someone should arrest him, it isn't even the middle of September!

That's right, it isn't the middle of the month.  Today is September ninth.  My Mother in Law would have been ninety-one today.  After an hour or so out on the deck at Keyport I'm going to head a block over and have salmon on the grill with Steve.  I didn't feel right leaving him to his own devices today.  I've been down this road.......more times than I wish to dwell on, and I know how hard all of the "firsts" are.  We would usually have Ruth over for a birthday bbq, because for some reason her birthday was always hot as hell. One year it even hit 100.  Today it's in the 80's.  She would request spice cake for dessert, but that's not happening tonight.  She's really the only one who was partial to it.  I can eat a piece, but that's it.  Steve would always complain because it wasn't chocolate.  When it's your birthday, YOU get to pick the dessert.  Thems the rules around my castle.

So we'll get together to celebrate her life, instead of mourning her loss.  Although we do that too.  I still have a very little bit of the lemon sherbet that I bought for Ruth and I to share a few days before she passed away.  I just can't bring myself to toss it out yet.  That's not usually how I operate, although  I'm not psycho like my own mother, she cleared the house of all Dad's things before he was in the ground.  When I moved out you would never have known I spent seventeen years in that house.  Steve's family is the opposite.  We were cleaning out both his Dad's and Mom's things because Ruth couldn't bear to part with them, even ten years later.  I think I fall somewhere in the middle.  It needs to be done, and I handle it in a timely manner.  Although, I must say, when I end a relationship everything goes so that I don't have to look at it.  I have a treasure box where I allow myself to hold on to ONE thing.  It's an odd collection.  There's a sweatshirt string, a quarter, a bolt, some art,  but I know who they belonged to and why they are there.

My home though is filled with things passed down to me by the women in my family who are no longer here.  Mostly prior to their deaths, and I treasure, and use every piece.  Including a decorative pillow of Ruth's that I snagged for my bed, and a basket of flowers she had that I always liked.  It sits proudly on my living room end table.  My brothers found my Grandma's cane and gave it to me as a gag gift for Christmas a couple of years back.  I loved it!  I have it displayed, and Caitlin always plays with it (she's odd) when she's here, which I allow.  Things are meant to be used and loved.  Another thing taught to me by those same women.  When the kids are here nothing is off limits if they are gentle.  So far everything has remained in one piece.  Although I did freak out when Caitlin started monkeying with the cat toys I have placed with Misty and Pepper's ashes........

Wow did this blog ramble off into territory I hadn't planned on.  Well, that's the way of it with me, especially in September.   Enjoy your Friday night!  I plan to.  Drinks with friends, then a great salmon dinner not cooked by me!  Even if I have to sit on an ice pack......

Rude Awakening

Good morning..... I may not have mentioned that I am really not a morning person, although I am enjoying a good cup of coffee, a big breakfast, and the sun that is streaming through my living room windows. Milkie wishes you a good morning too, she's been up since 5 or so, bothering me off and on. She is perched at the bird feeder at the moment, and she's probably been asking me to open the window blinds for the last few hours. I was asleep, or trying to be. Why can't she just lift the blinds with her head like a normal cat?? The other two always just creeped behind them.

At 8 am the phone rang. Now, no one in my life is calling me on a Sat morning at 8am. They all know that rule. So I am awake and out of bed like a shot. "What's wrong with who now?" Grab the phone...... and it's Abdul from India with a credit card offer for my EX HUSBAND. Seriously??? Saturday morning, FAIL. Not only am I wide awake, but now I'm mad at him. Which is not rational, but works for me. Like my mother used to say when I was in trouble at school and told her I didn't do it. "Well, then it's punishment for all of the things she didn't catch you doing." Yes, that's right. My Mommy didn't call the principal, call the teacher, raise the roof, etc. She knew her child.......

So, what to do with this early start? Blog of course. I wish I could channel some of this writing energy into one of the projects I have lying around here. This appears to be the only thing that appeals to me at the moment, but it's writing, so I like it. :) I think 10 am is an appropriate time to wake my neighbors with the vacuum. I would like to do it at 5am, cause payback is a bitch, but there are two other neighbors (who I like) to consider.

Ashlyn is at her first JV soccer game today! It's an away game or else I would attend since I'm up already. Hope that goes well for her. Should be a busy spring. We have JV soccer, Pablo is signed up for baseball, and the little ones are signed up for soccer at the Y. OH, and kudos to Pablo! Ugh, I mean Paul. He won all five races of his pinewood derby! Go TAFKAP!

Politics

Religion and politics are usually too hot a topic for me to blog about. However, in this realm I am the Queen. If you are a republican, be warned, I am not. I would like Mr. Governor Scott Walker (who thinks he's some sort of King) to step into my castle for a discussion on...... oh, I don't know, insanity? SHAME on him. Regardless of your party affiliation this is NOT democracy. It's democrazy! Ha, I just made up that word because of a typo, but it fits.

Yes, we in Wisconsin voted him into office. Ok, I shouldn't say we, because I did not vote. I was totally apathetic. "Oh who cares. I don't know either of them, what will it matter?" Well, I can tell you. I will never NOT vote again. I will cast my vote for the democrat of the day, whoever they may be, after this stunt!

We have a mayoral race here in the great city of Superior. I didn't vote in the primary, because I could not stomach any of the four candidates. I knew who would win anyway, and they did. Now I'm irritated because I have to chose between "Old School Politics" and someone even I think is a little too "out there". I guess my vote will have to be used as a vote against someone, rather than a vote FOR someone, cause old school just doesn't float my boat. I hate voting that way. I like being passionate about a candidate, and the issues. I still haven't gotten over the fact that Hillary isn't in office. I actually had a tear when I walked away from voting for Obama for President, because it wasn't Hillary.

I'm proud to be a democrat, I was raised in a very Catholic ( don't worry, I'm not going to touch that with a ten foot pole) yet VERY democratic household. Yes, I have told the family secret. My Catholic parents voted Democrat. They were not "one issue" voters, and could see the bigger picture. I'll out my sister too. She's a democrat, yes, yes she is. My youngest brother is the definition of apathy, I don't know if he even votes. Somehow my brother Jerry has turned into a "right wing nut", but we still talk to him. :) I love debating with him, it's awesome! If I remember the story correctly, my Grandpa Meys was very involved with bringing the union to the workers of the city of Superior. I'll have to ask my Uncle Bill about that one.

My Mother and President Reagan had birthdays one day apart. My Mother and President Reagan died on the same day. Several times during funeral planning, and even at the dinner after her funeral the Priest mentioned that "Ruth was surely setting up shop in heaven as Reagan's secretary." It gave me a few chuckles during a very hard time. It is totally by the grace of God that I kept my mouth shut. "Only if they are both in hell Fr. Dean. Only if they are both in hell." I would just roll my eyes at my sister and paste on my best "Ruthie" smile.

Democrazy! This bill does not really affect me. I do know a lot of really good teachers that it will affect. I have four nieces in this school district that it could very well affect. (tafkap goes to Cathedral) If you want to make cuts Mr. Walker, why don't you start in your own back yard?? Leave the people who work so hard, for not a whole lot of money really, alone. Watching him on the news makes me ill. He reminds me of the four year olds in my class when they aren't getting their way and are whining about it. So I will tell him what I tell them. "Zip it, lock it, put it in your pocket." "If you get a number 1, you lose your job." ha!

Foster

*BIG SIGH*

There have been many times in my life where I have considered becoming a foster parent. A baby, or even preschooler wouldn't really fit into my single life that well, but I have wondered about a school age child, or even a teen. I really feel like I have a lot to offer a child that's in the system. Why don't I do it? Well first off I have to have at least two bedrooms, which would mean a move, but that's doable. The real reason? In my opinion if you haven't done something too horrific, you (as a parent) can have another chance with your child. One chance, maybe two, but that's it. You don't get an unlimited amount of times to damage your child. I could not return a child to someone I knew either couldn't care for it, or wouldn't. The system unfortunately doesn't share my opinion. I don't suffer fools, especially this kind. I also can no longer escape with said child to Canada since we need passports now. ;)

Even knowing the struggles I could face I thought that maybe I could do it. Then Milkie came into my life. Yes, I know she's a cat, not a kid, however, it really brings the point home. Without telling too much of someone else's story I will tell you Milkie's. Milkie was Leon's Mom's cat. The woman has some issues, but I don't believe she was unkind to Milk. She was more than likely neglectful, and then dumped her on Leon last July, saying she'd be back for her in a few weeks. Weeks turned into months, months turned into coming to live with me in December. So it was six months before "Mom" decided that maybe she missed Milkie and would like her back, although the original story she told Leon was that her current apt. didn't allow pets. Leon told her that he had given Milkie to me, since she didn't show any interest in taking her back, and that I wouldn't give her up. (Yes, he made me the bitch, and I pointed that out to him....men and their mothers.....) Remember, there's a lot more to the story that I'm not sharing. Although I should also point out that she has "put down" inconvenient animals in the past.

I spoke with him tonight and he mentioned that she asked him about it AGAIN. I responded with "YOUR MOTHER" and slammed my mouth shut. My own mother gave me a piece of advice once that was spot on. (Yes I know, one time I did actually listen to her.) She told me that no matter what do not EVER run down a man's mother. It doesn't matter what she's done to him, or to you. She will always be his "mommy". You can take that one to the bank. *drum roll* My Mom was right. So I continued with "My mother told me if I didn't have something nice to say, not to say anything at all. Your mother is not getting that cat back." ***

So there it is. If I can not return a darn cat to someone I know is going to ditch her as soon as she's inconvenient, how on earth could I hope to be a foster parent???

Also, I would like a little feedback on this one. A small part (a very small part) of me feels like she's Berneta's cat. If she wants her cat back I should just suck it up and send Milkie home. Mostly I feel like it's just too damn bad. She didn't want her, so tough bananas. Milkie is settled, we're good, the end. Am I just being the Queen on her judgement throne, or am I justified in keeping her? Answer me here, or on facebook please. I'm not going to lop off any one's head, I'd just like some perspective.

*** What I really wanted to say was "YOUR MOTHER can kiss my butt, and then go down to the humane society and adopt another cat. When that one becomes an inconvenience she can send it over for Milkie to have a brother or sister to play with." Ah, it feels so much better to get that out. LOL

Cookies for Breakfast

When I went to make the coffee this morning I noticed the package of chocolate chip peanut butter cookies that I had to buy from the bakery section of the grocery store the other day. Good morning! The joy I find in eating a cookie before breakfast, just because I can, is amazing.

I love being a grown-up. I also really do like being on my own, most of the time. My sister asked me once what it was like to have no one to answer to? The answer is, fabulous darling! Most of the time. There are times when another input would help, but I have friends a plenty who will offer advice, or help if needed. There are times when it gets too quiet, but working with four year olds all day has taught me to appreciate the quiet! I can do what I like, when I like, and it suits me just fine.

I have always been fiercely independent. I know my folks wondered where the heck I came from. Neither of them were like that, and my siblings certainly aren't either. My Aunt Mary on my Mom's side comes to mind, and I see it in my youngest niece. My parents let me start kindergarten when I was four, because you could back then, and because all of the other neighborhood girls were five and going. The four mother's walked us there on the first day of school, although we left them a block or so behind. The freedom I can remember feeling was wonderful! My Mom always said that if I had shed one tear she would have brought me right back home. I don't even remember hugging her, just a backwards wave yelling "Bye Mom" as I ran with my friends toward the building! I'm sure the mother's must have come in and seen us settled, I have a picture of the four of us in front of the building, but that isn't what sticks in my memory.

I suffered and drove my mother crazy as a child/pre-teen/teen because I can not stand anyone being in control over me. Although I was not a rebel in the sense of drinking and or drugs, I didn't even smoke. This character trait was and is an advantage sometimes, because peer pressure means nothing to me. I just want to do what I want, when I want, and that's that. If I want to wake up and have a cookie, so be it. I spent my childhood years dreaming of being an adult, someone who could control her own destiny! My parents would always tell me that I would be sorry, life is hard, and someday I would wish to be a child again. They were wrong, dead wrong.

Yes, sometimes the world can be overwhelming, but I never wish for anyone else to take care of it for me, or make the decisions. I do know how and when to ask for help, but there aren't many things I can't do myself. I know how to enjoy life. I have the advantage of working with children, so I can play all I want, with the bonus of being in charge. I eat my cookies for breakfast, or at midnight. Which honestly, I did then too. I just don't have to cram them down my throat as fast as I can, brush my teeth, and blame my siblings. ;)