Sunday, July 25, 2010
LIFE'S MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENTS...
This program needs a spell check function. I bet I misspelled "embarrassing" in the title. I'm actually a pretty anal about spelling and grammar and when I go back and read my posts I just ache with remorse over the crappy simple mistakes I made. OOOYYYYY!! Going forth, I'll be more thorough, and I'll even spend more time...I wanna take this more seriously, since I've been getting positive feedback and because I'm thinking of taking this to a "new level", thanks to some encouraging words from a few great friends and even a couple surprise sources. :). Hang on people...together we ride...
Thursday, July 15, 2010
I'LL NEVER GET TO FIRST BASE AGAIN...
Sometimes life pulls you in so many directions at the same time, that you feel like you're just going to tear into shreds. How does one deal with it? 'Tis my struggle...
My Grandparent's house has been in our family for over 100 years. Grandma's father and her brother built the house, first a small square of a home, and little additions as they could after that. Eventually, it turned into a beautiful 2 story white farmhouse, with a brown roof, a covered porch in the front and back, and 4 separate "wings" upstairs and just as many bedrooms. I always loved the "slanted" ceilings when I was a kid...my love for them has only grown over the years. I can't tell you how many Christmas trees I have been entranced with and how many times Grampa has trapped me for tickles and kisses under the mistletoe. Or how many birthdays or Easters or just plain dinners have been spent there. Playing in the front yard all summer, climbing the maple tree, all of us kids eventually carving our names somewhere within the bark. Catching minnows in the creek. Eating watermelon on a hot summer night. Listening to Grampa yell at the tv during Brewer games. Always finding an endless array of the most fabulous baked goods that my Gramma had constructed. Her pies, could never be matched....I could stand side-by-side with her, and do exactly what she did, and STILL....it never turned out like hers. I've tried a zillion times since then, and although I've gotten closer, I still haven't quite figured out what kind of magic that woman puts in her pies...
It's more than just the pies...it's that HOUSE...it holds SO many memories...so many sentimental moments in time...historic moments in time. And now....it might be gone...in a heartbeat.
Speaking of heartbeat....mine beats a little faster these days. It's been awhile since it has fluttered the way it does right now...it's exhilarating....and terrifying all at the same time.
Mom and Dad are "re-landscaping". I use that term loosely...they are pulling the old bushes out and replanting new ones in their places. When we were kids, my little brother and I played kickball almost every summer night (that our parents would allow) with the neighbor kids. She was like my sister, and he was like my brother's brother. One of those bushes was first base. It was big enough that if we were charging toward first hard enough, we could crash into it, it's branches and foliage safely catching us like a soft pillow slipped beneath us. I don't know who was more sad to see that bush go...me or my dad...I swear I saw him shed a tear or two when he started the chainsaw to cut it down. I'll never get to first base again...
I miss my childhood a lot. So many times I wish I could turn the clock back, and pick out the moments I wish I had appreciated a little more at the time. Talk to those I've lost, apologize to those I've hurt, play with those I cherished, pet my kitty one more time....
All I can do now is sift through the photos of times gone by with a fondness that can never be matched. Let the memories wash over me sometimes, and just block out everything else, almost like reliving them....enough to make things feel tangible again.
Make it count. Now.
My Grandparent's house has been in our family for over 100 years. Grandma's father and her brother built the house, first a small square of a home, and little additions as they could after that. Eventually, it turned into a beautiful 2 story white farmhouse, with a brown roof, a covered porch in the front and back, and 4 separate "wings" upstairs and just as many bedrooms. I always loved the "slanted" ceilings when I was a kid...my love for them has only grown over the years. I can't tell you how many Christmas trees I have been entranced with and how many times Grampa has trapped me for tickles and kisses under the mistletoe. Or how many birthdays or Easters or just plain dinners have been spent there. Playing in the front yard all summer, climbing the maple tree, all of us kids eventually carving our names somewhere within the bark. Catching minnows in the creek. Eating watermelon on a hot summer night. Listening to Grampa yell at the tv during Brewer games. Always finding an endless array of the most fabulous baked goods that my Gramma had constructed. Her pies, could never be matched....I could stand side-by-side with her, and do exactly what she did, and STILL....it never turned out like hers. I've tried a zillion times since then, and although I've gotten closer, I still haven't quite figured out what kind of magic that woman puts in her pies...
It's more than just the pies...it's that HOUSE...it holds SO many memories...so many sentimental moments in time...historic moments in time. And now....it might be gone...in a heartbeat.
Speaking of heartbeat....mine beats a little faster these days. It's been awhile since it has fluttered the way it does right now...it's exhilarating....and terrifying all at the same time.
Mom and Dad are "re-landscaping". I use that term loosely...they are pulling the old bushes out and replanting new ones in their places. When we were kids, my little brother and I played kickball almost every summer night (that our parents would allow) with the neighbor kids. She was like my sister, and he was like my brother's brother. One of those bushes was first base. It was big enough that if we were charging toward first hard enough, we could crash into it, it's branches and foliage safely catching us like a soft pillow slipped beneath us. I don't know who was more sad to see that bush go...me or my dad...I swear I saw him shed a tear or two when he started the chainsaw to cut it down. I'll never get to first base again...
I miss my childhood a lot. So many times I wish I could turn the clock back, and pick out the moments I wish I had appreciated a little more at the time. Talk to those I've lost, apologize to those I've hurt, play with those I cherished, pet my kitty one more time....
All I can do now is sift through the photos of times gone by with a fondness that can never be matched. Let the memories wash over me sometimes, and just block out everything else, almost like reliving them....enough to make things feel tangible again.
Make it count. Now.
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