Born May 2, 1958 to William Earl and Claudia Elizabeth Williams. Youngest of three children. Pamela Earl (1952) and Jan Everette (1957). Still as cute as ever!
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"family"
in my hands
in my hands
gentle and small
wonder and delight
an ebbing of laughter and stress
in my hands
the future rests
tasks to be learned
suprises of nature and mind
in my hands
a bundle of memories
my daughter's squirming
my son's gentle dreams
in my hands
vessel of potential
grasping for the next embrace
of that gift
offered daily
to my hands
in my hands
gentle and small
wonder and delight
an ebbing of laughter and stress
in my hands
the future rests
tasks to be learned
suprises of nature and mind
in my hands
a bundle of memories
my daughter's squirming
my son's gentle dreams
in my hands
vessel of potential
grasping for the next embrace
of that gift
offered daily
to my hands
Several years ago (I won't divulge how many because I'm not sure if the 'never talk about a woman's age applies to her, yet) my daughter spent a semester studying abroad in Spain (Yes, I believe she was studying). The Christmas that followed her return she presented us with an inappropriate , weird, ...unusual gift.
The photos below show the small Santa figurine, and yes - he is doing what you think he is doing. She claimed that these figures were all the rage in Spain and to her credit, I did find this link (which dates back to about that time).
Kids.
The photos below show the small Santa figurine, and yes - he is doing what you think he is doing. She claimed that these figures were all the rage in Spain and to her credit, I did find this link (which dates back to about that time).
Kids.
Continuing on the Homemade Ornament theme, I also remember what you can make with two Dixie cups and a string.
Make a small hole in the bottom of two paper Dixie cups. Thread a piece of colored yarn through the cups to connect them (tie a knot on each end of the yarn to keep it from pulling through). Then, cover each cup with tin-foil and you now have “Silver Bells” to place on the tree – or on your ears while you run around the house singing Christmas songs – not that I have personally done anything like that – I’m just saying, you could.
From last year…
My wife heard a crunching sound coming from the living room and after investigating caught her dog, Sunnie, (note when he is bad he is her dog) making a snack out of one of the ornaments. Sunnie was chewing on a low hanging Gingerbread Man Ornament – now a one legged Ginger Bread Man ornament. My wife rescued the ornament and re-hung it higher on the tree – leaving the recent Gingerbread Man amputee for others to see and wonder about.
I guess that Ginger Bread Man didn’t “run, run, run as fast as you can” – fast enough…
She said proudly, "I'm 58 years old and still figuring shit out."
I've said it. You've said it. "You learn something new every day." Today was the day my wife learned the meaning of Frigidaire. For those of you that don't know, Frigidaire is a brand of appliances that started in 1913 with the introduction of one of the first 'modern' electric refrigerators. By the 1960's Frigidaire became synonymous with refrigerator in much the same way Band-Aid is known for adhesive bandages. You would ask someone to bring you a coke from the Frigidaire. Most of us spoke of it as Frig-a-dare. The company grew to offer much more than refrigerators and the brand is known - then and now- as a manufacturer of electrical appliances. There is Kenmore, Maytag and Frigidaire.
Today awareness happened simply. My wife was letting the dogs out to do their evening doggie things and said playfully, "Out you go boys. Enjoy the frigid air." Then it hit her. The company was aptly named, for what else does one want from a refrigerator other than frigid air.
She said proudly, "I'm 58 years old and still figuring shit out."
Yes she is.
About a year ago, my wife innocently invited me to do some 'shopping' with her. Being the supportive and mischievous sort, I agreed. Among a number of places we went was Idlewild House. It is an amazing place and if you are ever in the area, do drop by.
As we were getting ready to leave I spotted a small 'stuffed' bird on a shelf and something about it attracted me - powerfully. It was for sale and priced for only a few dollars, so I picked it up and walked with my wife to check out.
Wife - "What are you doing with that?"
Me- "Buying it?"
Wife - "I figured that, but why?"
Me - "It called my name."
Wife - "Oh. I guess you had better get it then"
Me - "That's what I thought. It's cute. I like it."
Wife - "You taking it to your office."
Me - "Maybe. I was thinking about where to put it."
Wife - "I think the office is a good place."
We drove home and the conversation about the bird continued and it was very clear to me that my wife did not want the bird at our home. I decided that our home was exactly where it needed to be.
So, once I got home I found a convenient place on a shelf in the kitchen for it. A day or so later, I noticed it was gone - but just moved to another place in the house. I moved it to yet another place - without saying a word - and thus began a game for us. For nearly a year now the bird has been moved from place to place, alternately by us. We don't say much about it. Sometimes it takes a day for it to be found - sometimes weeks. That little 'stuffed' bird has become an endearing and playful part of our relationship.
It is a good thing I bought it.
Here is where it resides today.
Look closer - yep, there it is.
Today I called my mom. I sat in my car outside 'the' Wendy's (down south we always refer to places and things as 'the' - the Walmarts, the Facebook, etc.) eating a quick dinner before making an evening event. We spoke about several urgent family matters including her brother's recent cancer reappearance. We shared openly about our feelings and our efforts to remain positive, hopeful - there is good reason for hope, after all.
We then turned our conversation to the customary checklist of each member of my immediate family - their health, jobs, recent sightings, etc. Mom always wants to know the report on the kids and spouse. After hearing my report, she concluded that all was well for this household. It means a great deal to her.
As we brought our conversation to a close, I told her I enjoyed talking with her and that I loved her. She said to me, "I love you, son." I hung up the phone and sat quietly for a moment in the car. One truth was clear to me. A man never gets too old to hear his mother tell him "I love you."
I am pretty sure I qualify for one of Jeff Foxworthy's "You might be a redneck if...."
Hang on, here goes. It is mostly accurate...I can't keep up with all the details.
My mother was married at 16 and had her first child, a daughter at 17.
Her daughter, my sister, had her first child, a daughter, at 16.
Her daughter, my niece, had her first child, a daughter, at 18.
Her daughter, my grand-niece, had her first child, a daughter, at 16.
Her daughter, my great-grand niece, had her first child, a son, at 19.
Frankly, we are a bit relieved. We were beginning to think she would never have children (tongue inserted firmly in cheek).
So, you vote. Does this make me a candidate for redneckness?
Hang on, here goes. It is mostly accurate...I can't keep up with all the details.
My mother was married at 16 and had her first child, a daughter at 17.
Her daughter, my sister, had her first child, a daughter, at 16.
Her daughter, my niece, had her first child, a daughter, at 18.
Her daughter, my grand-niece, had her first child, a daughter, at 16.
Her daughter, my great-grand niece, had her first child, a son, at 19.
Frankly, we are a bit relieved. We were beginning to think she would never have children (tongue inserted firmly in cheek).
So, you vote. Does this make me a candidate for redneckness?
in my hands
his
gentle and small
wonder and delight
an ebbing of laughter and stress
in my hands
hers
the future rests
tasks to be learned
suprises of nature and mind
in my hands
a bundle of memories
my daughter's squirming
my son's gentle dreams of sleep
in my hands
mine
empty now
full of possiblities
grasping for the next embrace
offered
to my hands