Monday, May 19, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
It is amazing how perusing my yearbooks brings back memories of my teen years. Coupled with scanning photos of my Mom before she got sick, made the memories take a twisted turn. Some things you don't want to remember. . .cause the truth still hurts.
In High School, one of my classmates made a comment about one of her worst photos, "It's a face only a mother could love." I wasn't sure what she meant. I mean the picture was BAD. Would a mother love a face like that???
I didn't understand what a comment like that could mean, because I didn't have such a face.
The fact is, my mother didn't like me. Oh, she loved me because I was her child - but she didn't like me, and made great efforts to demonstrate that fact. When your mom doesn't like you - it can feel like she doesn't love you, either.
Posted by Pinehurst in my Dreams at 3:22 PM
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
Here's a pic of the Hunk from November 1982. He was competing for the first time in a Body Building contest. This one was held in Lewiston, and he came in third place.
A lot of his friends from the University of Idaho, including the Cooper Brothers who were the reigning Mr. Idaho and Jr. Mr. Idaho, thought he got ripped off. His body was more "balanced" than the guy who won. Even Rachel McLish, the former Ms. Universe, and guest poser, told him he should have won.
The next year, he was ready! He competed at Washington State University and won FIRST Place. Whoa, Baby! I was really proud of him. (He could have been a model!) Oh, well, he became an engineer instead!
Someone did a write up about him after this contest in the Kellogg Evening News. So he had a little noteriety in the Silver Valley.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
He's at it again. My husband is obsessed with a younger woman. . .
. . .the younger version of me. He keeps finding old pictures and scanning them to remind him of "what a catch he got." Great! How can the old me compare with the younger version???
Well, first of all, I am still the same person, but the packaging has changed. I am no longer cute and petite. However, the younger me was very self-conscious, depressed, and didn't feel as if I deserved to have anyone love me. Now, I don't feel that way at all. After all, I know who I am, and I like myself, finally. (The depression meds really help.) I am older, wiser, more confident, and I have accomplished a great deal in my life with the help of the Hunk and our Savior, Jesus.
We have been married nearly 28 years, weathered a lot of storms (mostly financial) and now I finally hear him say how much he appreciates me. I am past my bloom, but he realizes that I waited for him, chose him, loved him, raised our girls, finished my education (for him) and have remained devoted to him.
Posted by Pinehurst in my Dreams at 6:08 PM
Monday, March 3, 2008
Posted by Pinehurst in my Dreams at 8:33 AM
Friday, February 29, 2008
I originally posted this piece on my classmates.com site. I thought I'd put it here for a bit of entertainment.
It was a "blind" date in the sense that I had not met this guy prior to our "date." I don't know how he got my number, but he called me when I was attending Bible School and visited with me for an extended period of time. We had love of Algebra and Greek in common, so he asked me to attend church with him the following Sunday.
On Sunday he picked me up for church and we drove across town to the "sister church" to the one I was attending. He wasn't bad looking, but things went downhill from there. First of all, he sang louder than the rest of the congregation put together. I didn't know if this was typical, or if he was trying to impress me -but I was embarrassed for him and to be seen with him.
After church he invited me to his place for lunch, and I thought "Well, that's kind of sweet - he's gonna cook for me." So I said sure. When he started to turn into the Funeral Home, I laughed. (At least he had a sense of humor).
"Why are you laughing?" he asked.
"Because it's a Funeral Home," I chuckled, letting him know I thought the joke was funny.
"I live here." he replied -not laughing or even smiling.
"You're kidding me, right?"
"No, I work here, and live upstairs," he explained as we pulled into the back of the home and parked. I was too dumfounded to say anything.
His apt was small and nice, but I turned down his invitation to tour the Funeral Home. He turned on his TV to some football game, and said I could watch TV while he phoned the Sunday School kids from his class that hadn't made it to Sunday School that morning. (I hated football - but thought - I'll be a good sport.)
After about 20- 30 minutes - Yea - He took a short break from phone calling to see if I wanted to start lunch. (What? I am thinking. He's not going to cook?) He asked me if I would heat up a can of Dinty Moore Stew, while he finished his phone calls.
"I don't know how to make Dinty Moore Stew." I said (I'd never even heard of it.) Don't get me wrong, I could cook - but mostly from scratch and this stuff was in a can.
He was exasperated, "You just dump it in a pan and heat it up." (Now I was angry. . .he brought me to his place to entertain myself with a football game he wanted to watch, but wasn't. . .and to cook him lunch while he made a bazillion phone calls. . .)
I didn't want to go through his cupboards looking for a pan and "the stew" and play "the little woman" while he tried to impress me with how great a Sunday School teacher he was. So I said, "I've never made stew from a can, and I don't know where anything is."
He stormed into the kitchen, opened the can, and dumped it into the pan. He turned on the stove and said, "Do you think you can watch it, so it doesn't burn, while I finish my phone calls."
I wish I had had the nerve to ask him to just take me home, but my blood sugar was low and I was getting shaky. So I mumbled, "Yes."
The lunch time was strained, the stew was awful, and we didn't talk much through lunch or when he drove me home. Thankfully, he never called again. I guess I wasn't what he was looking for - and he certainly wasn't my idea of anyone I'd want to see again.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Yesterday was the Big Day. . .well - no "hats and horns" no cake, balloons, or fanfare :( But I did officially become the Assistant Manager of our store! Woo Hoo!
The invitation was first presented to me last May or June. I was apprehensive (since I only started working there in March). So in August, when I returned from vacation, I became one of three supervisors with the view toward the Assistant Manager position. My biggest asset is that I am good with people - both employees and customers.
I was told I would become AM around the Holidays, but I made a BIG mistake in Oct-Nov -when I failed to open the store one Saturday. (I thought I was working the night shift, but Oops - I was scheduled to open.) So, it was back to "probation" - while still remaining a supervisor.
Then it was to be after the Holidays, then during Inventory in early February. . .then on Tues this week - or Wednesday - finally Thursday. I signed the paperwork, which included a raise to my surprise and great pleasure. . .(now I am making more than the starting workers at Fiesta Ole').
The cool thing is that the Hunk took me out to dinner to celebrate! He's proud of my accomplishment and says it is a great resume builder. (He forgets that I am likely too old to be hired by a company that pays more. . .despite my education, experience, and accomplishments.)
No matter - my fall back is my writing (as is his). Now if one of us could just get published!
- See: Ponderosa Pinings: New Year for info on my writing.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
- Link to the person that tagged you.
- Post the rules on your blog.
- Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
- Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
- Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.
I was tagged by Inland Empire Girl at Gathering Around the Table to do this meme.
Number One Quirk: I like to wear my pajamas around the house on my days off. (So don't stop by unannounced. I won't answer the door.)
Number Two Quirk: On my days off, I start the day by feeding the dog, drinking tea and playing on the computer. On the days I work mornings, I still feed the dog and drink tea, but I daresn't turn on the computer!
Number Three Quirk: I read myself to sleep every night. I usually have to wait for the hunk to fall asleep first, because he can't fall asleep with a light on. I can't read anything exciting, because it revs me up instead of winding me down. Right now I am reading "Great Expectations" by Dickens. It's quite good, but not a real "page turner."
Number Four Quirk: All my shoes are black leather. I only have a three or four pair including one dressy pair. They are all comfortable and go with all my outfits.
Number Five Quirk: I take my own pillow while traveling, and use it every place I sleep. This way, I sleep better and don't get sick from latent cigarette smoke lurking in someone else's pillow feathers.
Number Six Quirk: I don't tolerate guilt. I was raised on it, didn't like the taste of it, and I don't dish it out.
Bonus Quirk: I often use some of my Dad's lingo when I talk. It enlivens the conversation and gets a few laughs - except when I have to explain it.
Feel free to do this meme. I decided not to tag anyone in particular, since I haven't been writing much lately, and who knows if anyone is reading my doggerel.
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Been crazy lately. I gave one of my daughter's (V) my computer to take to school with her when she moved to Pocatello last week. So I've been "sharing" my husband's computer. . . He gets it in the evening, and I get it any other time, as long as I am not working.
The snow here is quite deep - just like I remember as a child. I shoveled the path to the dog's corner (latrine), and to the Hunk's boat out back today. I wasn't planning to shovel in front, until my oldest daughter M called to say she was stuck in the driveway. I moved my truck out - LOVE the 4 Wheel Drive! And she shoveled enough to drive into the spot where the truck had been. The rest of the driveway was abt 6" deep. I parked the truck out front, and shoveled a path to the front door. Our street hadn't been plowed since the first snowfall. . . The ruts in our street were about 8" deep, and changing - as the snow was deep, but not frozen solid.
M came in to print some information for her Astronomy class. Then she left to take a test.
About a half-hour after she left, our street was plowed. The city sent 3 snowplows to do the job. It's crazy down here. They sent an entire crew to plow, and then complain about the cost. I guess the good part is that they don't leave a berm in front of our driveways.
I had a headache it was heading for a migrane, so I stayed home from work tonight. Now, I think it was caused by all the glare from the sunshine bouncing off the snow, as it seemed to get better as darkness approached.
On a different note, has anyone out there read The Dimwit's Dictionary: 5,000 Overused Words and Phrases and Alternatives to Them by Robert Hartwell Fiske? I just ran across it the other day while doing research on some of Dad's verbage. Sounds like a real interesting book for writers. Guess I'll have to snag a copy and peruse it. Might be something for my library of source material.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
After writing about one of the books I have been working on. . .I couldn't go to sleep last night. I began writing more funny expressions my Dad says, and I wrote several pages before my husband woke up and asked me if I was reading.
"No, writing." I responded. "I keep thinking of things Dad says. Do you want me to turn out the light so you can sleep?"
"That would be nice."
So I turned out the light, and lay in bed thinking of more stuff that I could have written down. If it hadn't been for my hair appt - to "get my hair wrinkled" as Dad would say - I would have gotten up and written a bit longer. I only hoped I'd be able to remember what I hadn't written down this morning. . .
No problem. I woke up, wrote down a few more Dadisms and went to my hair appt with notebook in hand. There, I wrote a few pages while waiting for my hair to "wrinkle."
I have carried that notebook around most of the day - remembering - writing - remembering and writing. I even remembered some of Dad's antics. For example, when Barney's Sooper Market was built in Pinehurst in '67 or '68, they had the first automatic doors I had ever seen. You would step on a rubber mat leading to the door, and voila' the door opened for you. Dad would walk up to the door, grab the handle, and let the door fling him inside stumbling with atonishment on his face. My sister and I would laugh our heads off (not literally) each and every time Dad pretended not to know that the doors were automatic. He did this for years, as long as he had an "audience" - namely us. I don't think he ever did it when he went to the store alone, with Mom, or with anyone else. It was primarily for our entertainment.
Today, I wondered if any of the checkers ever saw him fly into the store (more than once) and wondered about his sanity. If they ever did, they didn't tell anyone. The town was too small for something like that to go unheard.
Dad doesn't "goof off" now when he enters a store. After a hip-replacement, with a walking cane - to help stablize him when he "teeters." He lets his quips and wits be the source of entertainment.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
So busy. So much to do.
Okay, so I have spent my free time playing computer games and sewing a quilt.
I have not only avoided my blog, but I have stopped writing on two books I have been working on. The first book is a primer on spiritual warfare ministry. The second is a biography of sorts about my Dad and his proclivity to embelish the English language with humorous finesse.
The books are polar opposites. . .ranging from the very serious to the nearly ridiculous.
I have a couple other books in the works. . .but they are barely outlined.
- "Landlords from Helena" (about renting)
- "When Worlds Collide" - (about early marriage)
I am looking for illustrations for "spiritual warfare" and "landlords" - later I may need some for "collide." As for "dad's bio" - I can always use more material, but you have to know my dad to supply his words for this work.
Wow! I wasn't sure what I would write when I began, but now you know. My brain is somewhat tied up. . .hence the need for computer games to decompress.