Posted in Family

>Dad would have been 82

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 Yesterday was Dad’s birthday, if he was alive he would have been 82.

   Yesterday Leslie Neilson died.  Dad loved his later movies the Airplanes 2 1/2 guns etc.  Dad’s sense of humor ‘went that way’.  About a week before Dad died one of the Airplanes was playing, he and I sat and watched it, he in his wheelchair and I beside him. He smiled and enjoyed it all the way through.

Sometimes I wondered on what Dad was comprehending those last days, this time allowed me to see he was ‘getting’ it all!

When I heard Leslie Neilson died on Dad’s birthday I thought it a bit ironic.  I went to look up his info on the internet, thinking it would be REALLY ironic if his birthday was close to Dad’s death date.  Well it wasn’t BUT, it was exactly the day Mom died.  Feb 11.   What are the chances? (Some math geek needs to do the math) Of the 365 days of the year, this guy died on Dad’s birthdate and was born on Moms death date.   Mom and Dad both would watch those movies, rent them, eventually added them to their VCR library. They even laughed at them! I still grown and most of the silliness, they loved it!

There are so very many things that remind me of Dad, I love those memories.
 Leslie Neilson, and his movies.  Other movies similar in style, one being Blazing Saddles, if ever that was on cable, Dad would be watching it.
Blazing Saddles was also a favorite of Kirks, so that has a double star on memory for me.

Thanksgiving is a reminder of Dad, not just because this slim trim for life guy LOVED to eat a good meal, but it always landed near his birthday.

Zippo lighters, Dad smoked all my life that I lived at home.  I remember he always had a zippo, until disposable Bics entered the picture.  I have a couple of his old Zippos, they don’t work anymore, but they still have the smell of fluid and ‘strike’ when struck.  That smell gives me a warm fuzzy feeling all over.  Forever I smelled that  as Dad lit a cigarette.  If I smelled it, Dad was near me, or I him, probably sitting next to him, in the middle, as he drove.

Another memory smell, I get to smell every so often, a newly lit cigarette, mmmm Daddy.  Sorry all you anti smokers, to me, that is the sweetest smell.  I remember laying in the back of the station wagon as we made our late night drives either to or from Mamaw and Papaws house, covered up with a blanket or Dad’s coat. Dad would roll down the window just a bit, the sound of the wind, the feel of the cold air, just on the top of my head, the flick of the lighter, smell of flint strike, then the sweetness of that first light of the cigarette.  I felt so secure, so close, Dad and Mom in the front, the darkness of the car,except the glow from the dashboard, the stars moving past, the occasional red ash bouncing off the window above me, to lull me to sleep.

Football on TV. Stadium lights in the distance. Coach Sanders, was my Daddy.

Orange crush.  Dad and I would share these when I was a little girl.

Broken beer bottles. We did not share these.  I was about 4 and Dad and I were at the local drive in burger joint, waiting on an order.  I was crawling around on the outdoor table. Someone had broken a beer bottle and shoved it up through the wood slats, I crawled over it and sliced my knee open(I still have the big scar).  Dad grabbed me up and put his handkerchief on it to stop the bleeding, and he was mad mad mad.  I thought at first at me, for getting hurt, messing up his handkerchief, and I apologized.  Dad explained he was not mad at me, but at the so and so that stuck that bottle in the table.

When we get the Christmas decorations down I will remember him. That was HIS job. He would get the boxes down from the attic, get frustrated with mom because she would always be telling him he had ‘missed one’.

 Dad was everything to me, my parent, friend, protector, he loved me so unconditionally. I never questioned his love or approval of me, even at my worst, he never disapproved of me, just my actions.  I really can not think of anytime Dad did for himself first, he was always wanting for others.

So many memories.  Thank you God! 82 years ago a great man was born, just to be my Dad.

  

Posted in Christy's Concepts

>Sick of bein Sick

>Evan came home from work, almost a week ago, and said his back hurt, he had hurt it he thought ‘lifting lots of dirt’.

The next day he came home early with a really bad stomach ache, and his back hurt too.  I told him I had hurt my back once and it made my stomach hurt too, so maybe that was it.  I put him to bed with a heating pad.  He slept most of the day.  He got up about 6 not feeling well enough to eat.  He started throwing up soon after.  I was wrong this was something else.

The next day I felt a twinge in my back, that I thought might be that same muscle strain I had about a week before. Then I started getting that kind of woozy feeling you get when you drink too much coffee, and I hadn’t. Was I getting ‘it?  My back proceeded to AAAAAACCCCCCHHHHEEEE more and more, and my stomach followed. I had ‘it’.

Evan seemed to be coming back from  his misery, not throwing up any more, back aching but stomach not. So I thought ok, this will end quick, what ever it is.  Then the stomach cramps started. I honestly think they were worse that labor, at least with labor they had a cycle and a time nothing was happening.  These cramps defined gut wrenching. I had the TV on and in between times I could pass out and go into a writhing sleep and the times I was trying to MAKE it stop, I saw some parts of movies.  One was of a Keifer Sutherland being buried alive, my first thought “I will take buried alive anyday over this crap!” Later Uma Thurman was buried alive.  They both got out, my back still hurts.

Evan seemed to be better-ish by day 3 so I knew I too would be, I was by my day 3, but Evan went back to back pain and sick feeling, so then I did too.We have had moments we kind of crossed in being well together and then sick together.  Spent most of Sunday laying in my bed together watching movies, with Brian and Ashton’s 2 chihuahuas and Liz the kitten too, that should be something for the memory bank.

This illness progression is now an issue I have, this virus or germbug, what ever it is and it’s agenda.
How the heck does this thing know where to go, and how to do it?  I picture all these little germs, arriving at the body on this germ ship, they jump out and the head Germy starts shouting orders “Back pain for about 10 hours then stomach pain for approximately 5 hours then we will makes em hurl, after that we will back off and let them think we are gone, but actually we will rendezvous back in the back organ and continue our assault there.” They, the germs seem to have this little plan, this schedule, who the heck made it?   Can these germs really think and logic out what they are going to do to us? They must be able too, we all know their plan; The 24 hour flu, the cold that last’s a week, the 3 day stomach bug.The fact that they have a plan and can follow through with it, actually makes them more efficient than I!

Day 5, still trying to outsmart something I can’t see.

Posted in Paint Projects

Painting Project, not my house

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Recently I was hired, given the opportunity, to paint the rooms of a friends daughters rooms.  I had painted their rooms in their previous house.  And with their next move, I was asked to do again.  What an honor!

This is Sammies room.  We still are hoping for a real honest to goodness swing to hand from the tree.

Sammie at first was a bit disappointed because I did not put a pig in the room.  She told me just a few days ago though that she loves the room.  Maybe I am forgiven.

They have some posters they will be framing and putting up.  You can not tell from the pictures but the base paint is AWESOME!  When talking about it I suggested a greyish back ground, instead they found SILVER shiny SILVER, it is soooo cool!

Loved loved loved doing this.  I would go in in AM and work till the late evening. The family had not moved in yet, the best way to take over someone’s home.

Keith was not the most patient husband for the 40 hrs it took me to do this.  It was not 40 straight, I had a couple of days and weekends that I did not paint, so he ‘got ‘ me then.

It was 40 hours, but the time seemed to fly.  I wish it was faster, for them and me though.  Words take time and the tree leaves, and the rope and the music…. Well I guess it all does.

I have a few projects to do here at the house… I just can not get to them!  I am here everyday, yet instead I do ???? and don’t get to them.  Maybe if I left the house all to me like they did I could get it done. 😉