A challenge to all. A time to reflect on where we came from, how we became who we are, and what attributed to it all. A time for reflection, prose, putting on [paper] the thoughts that are rambling in your brain..(well at least mine). I look forward to hearing where you are "from"
I am from-
A girl working at Dairy Queen and a boy taking a mechanic apprenticeship. Girl takes pity on the skinny, shy boy and loads up his burger. Shy boy asks girl out. Shy boy stands up girl on their first date. She gives him a second chance. He repays her by showing up to their wedding after punching his brother/best man in the face. Black eye barely shows up in the wedding photos.
Family reunions where you introduce yourself as "Donald's oldest".
Curly blonde locks, held back with ponies so I could ride my tricycle that my dad put blocks on the wheels so I could reach. Later on, banana seat bikes and riding to the Red Bluff Store to get penny candies.
Mr. Hansome and the Sunday School bus that picked me up.
Taking the train by myself. Lawn bowling and playing the organ. Being the BINGO caller. Having my grandma Tish as the one woman that I truly wish I could be more like. I miss her every day and know that she would be proud of how all of us turned out.
Gravel roads and snow falling before Halloween. Summers so long and hot that the grass turned brown. Seemingly eternal sunshine for six months. Dark when you go to school and darkness upon you when you are coming home for the other six months.
Parents who wanted the best, and only the best. Even if I wanted the worst. Growing up in a small town where everyone knew my mom.
Silence when there is a fight. No words. Just working it out in your head, and then one moment later....it is all good.
Eating at 4:30pm - every night.
Long trips across the country when I was an only child. Jobs for my dad in Ontario, Northern BC, central BC. Roadrunner car trips and early 70's style of hair.
Eating jello in Toronto General Hospital.
The Caddy book and lined up shoes in an apartment building.
Good solid stock. Woman who worked on the farm. Raised large families. Drove tractors. Cooked, canned, passed down recipes. Nursed during the war. Provided. Lutheran and Anglican. High pitched voices singing "Amazing Grace". Humbugs in pockets. Bright red/pink Avon Lipstick. Dove soap. The smell of love, acceptance and humility all wrapped up in afghan bedspreads.
Kodak video cameras with too hot flashes. Polaroid cameras with faded images. A mom who is dedicated to scrapbooking a legacy for her children. A dad who's family chose to keep the memories silent.
Eternal love. All the good stuff. Great parents. Providers.
All of which I hope to pass on to my two girls....
Hay has been practicing everyday to learn how to go all the way across on the Monkey Bars at her elementary school. This is something of a fetish, one that she cannot let go of. Now that she has mastered it, and boy am I proud, she will move on to the next accomplishment.
Grabbing the rings for a monkey swing across.
Concentration is a must. I was in her bad books when I took this opportunity to tickle those armpits. They were taunting me.
Hanging by one arm. Try doing this at 36 years old. I did, and thought I was going to rip my arm out of it socket, leaving only exposed flesh and a hand left holding the monkey bar. Wow, I also thought I was going to have to make a chiropractor appointment to realign my spine.
Climbing back up to do it all over again.
