lovely little tidbit at the Los Angeles Times Blog:
Seems this blogger has missed both Obama's "hope and change" boat, as well as Michael Jackson's "love" boat. I thought electing the black guy was going to usher in a time of peace and love and playing nice.
I found this new toy the other day and decided to play with it for a while. I have used Evan's graduation pictures (taken and sent to me by Courtney - thank you, Courtney!). The new toy is called Shape Collage. It's quick, easy, and fun. You can use it with just a couple of photos or a hundred or more. Click on the collage for a larger view.
The NBA draft is over. I have no idea about our new players. I don't even intend to find anything out. It seems that the draft isn't the end of it. They can trade these people, willy nilly, throughout the summer. I'll just wait and see who's on the court/bench in the first game. There are already changes to next season about which I'm pretty disgusted. House Party and Jim Kozimore are gone. At least the Kings had the sense to keep Kayte.
Speaking of Kayte, while she was waiting to attend the draft thing in New York City, she did a bit of sightseeing. I am including this video mainly for Tim, one of Kayte's biggest fans. From the looks of the video, she chose as boring of sights as I did when I was there. Unfortunate. But, Kayte's cute.
Time for another Troop-a-thon! Starting tomorrow (June 25) at 4 p.m. Eastern/1 p.m. Pacific, you can catch the 8-hour live web broadcast at UStream.tv . Last year was the first Troop-a-thon, and it was quite successful. There are a number of ways to donate care packages, which start at at $24.99 for a small package of goodies. Packages are also available to purchase for a squad all the way up to a platoon. Click here to donate (donations are tax deductible).
Several months ago (or more, probably), I obtained a Facebook page. I did this mostly to check up on Evan's and Brett's pages. Oh, wait... So, yeah, this started years ago when they were mere teenagers, and not months ago. Anyway, they knew what I was doing, same as when I joined over at MySpace, as I informed them I would be popping in from time to time to make sure all was well, if you know what I mean. (By the way, Brett still hasn't added me as his friend. I don't think he ever will, either.)
Other than checking on the kids every once in a while, I rarely even thought about Facebook (or MySpace, for that matter). I think Evan was my only friend for a long time. Eventually, I had some of my own actual friends join up over there, we became friends, which brought me up to about five or six friends (I've got 23 now...woo hoo! 23 isn't very many, fyi) - but still, I just didn't think too often about Facebook. And when I did, I'd get over there and think, "Which page am I supposed to be dealing with, 'home' or 'profile'! It drove me crazy! It still does. I've asked the kids, any of their friends who stop by, and a few perfect strangers, and they just laugh. So, I don't know. I just drop in on both pages, they have similar info, I don't know. Sometimes, if I didn't have my "Pieces of Flair" to play with, I don't know what I'd do.
What's happened lately, though, is that I've discovered some of my Continentals people. That has been quite wonderful! One of them is Cher, Cam Floria's (the guy who started Continentals) wife at the time. I loved Cher. She was - and is - so pretty! She knew everyone's name at rehearsal camp. There were probably 400 - 500 people there, and she was greeting everyone by name when they walked by. (I didn't even know the names of all 40 people on my own tour by the end of rehearsal camp, two weeks later.)
So, Cher's at Facebook and, today, has a link to a pretty cool video. If you like listening to choirs, this is quite good. The best part is the first few minutes. I think even Evan (orchestra boy) will like it!
When the kids were little, we would spend the summer with my parents - Lincoln, NE, Cherokee, IA, and Larned, KS. I think it started when Evan was almost two (1986) and continued until 1998, which is when we moved to California. I wish it had never ended, but I think it's twice as far from out here. In any case, those were fantastic summers. I was thrilled to get home for these visits not only to spend time with my family, but it was the only way the kids were going to get to know their Grandma and Grandpa and uncles (it was too far to make more than one trip each year).
Every summer now, Evan flies home, usually at the end of May or first of June. This year, however, was different. Since Evan graduated from college, he had to do some job hunting before he could come out. I didn't know when he'd make it out here, so I wasn't talking much about his flying out yet. I guess, because of my silence, he decided to once again try to convince me to let him drive out. His plan, since graduating from high school, has been to drive from Houston, through Kansas (to visit Aunt Ann like we always did back in the day), go on up to Omaha to spend a couple of days with Grandma and Grandpa, see Uncle Jerry Mark and Uncle Tim, the other Aunt Ann, and Jordan and Jessica. After a couple of days, the trip would continue on to California. I have never let him make this trip. Until now. I don't know what came over me.
Evan made it to Aunt Ann's house in Hutchinson, had car trouble (I don't think a relative of Evan's father has ever made the trip from Houston to Nebraska, Kansas, or Iowa without car trouble, one of the reasons I've dreaded the thought of the whole "road trip" idea), had his truck fixed, then drove on to Omaha. He and Grandpa have played several ABPA baseball games (I think Evan has won every game. What happened, Daddy??!!). This afternoon, Evan and the 'rents trotted on over to Jerry Mark and Ann's house for a visit. They took pictures!
Aside: Yesterday, I texted Evan: "Don't forget to take pictures." Evan's reply: "Of what?" Really, Evan?
I still have to deal with Evan's driving through the mountains to get here. You know, just last week it was snowing in the California mountains. And then, in several weeks, I have to deal with his driving back to Houston. Through the desert. You know what happens to lone travelers in the desert, right? No? You must not see many movies. I am so wishing he would have just flown home!
The whole week has felt weird to me, knowing he's with my family. I keep thinking, "How did it happen that Evan's old enough to drive himself around the country?" The kids should all still be little, I should be sitting in my parent's living room cross stitching or working one of my mom's jigsaw puzzles, my dad should be taking Evan and Brett for a walk around the lake or to buy baseball cards, and Bethany should be chewing on the coffee table (at which time, I would pick her up, set her down, and hand her a baby toy). After dinner, Daddy and I would be going for a ride to look at clouds, old barns, cemeteries, or picking Queen Anne's Lace. Yes, those were the days.
...and the livin' ain't so easy.
In my blog reading this morning, I came upon this blog post at American Elephants. I was intrigued with what Mookie had to say, so I checked that out. How I long for those days! Well, my mom didn't smoke or drink. And, of course, we weren't allowed to climb trees (or anything else over two-feet high - thanks, Daddy!) - therefore, we didn't have any broken bones.
I have to stop for a second. One of us actually did end up with a broken bone once, ME, but it wasn't from participating in some dangerous outdoor activity. It happened during one of those contentious games of "Old Maid." With Jerry Mark. Yeah, we were in my bedroom, sitting on the floor. It was a hardwood floor. (For those of you interested, it was the house on 67th Street in Shawnee, KS.) Anyway, back to the game. Jerry Mark and I were sitting back to back, getting our matches organized. I felt movement, turned around, and Jerry Mark was looking over my shoulder at my cards!!!! I turned to slap him, he moved, I hit the floor, and lo, and behold, broken finger. I believe it was the summer of '67.
This was merely a portent of game playing episodes to come. No more broken bones suffered during board games. Just huge temper tantrums - usually not coming from me. Jerry Mark was always the most temperamental game player. Timmy was the most calm. I do confess to tossing over a few game boards (Risk, Monopoly, Chess). Well? Sometimes, it just has to happen!
Wow. This started to be a post about nice, peaceful summer days of yore. Back to the topic at hand. Let's see, broken bones....oh, yes! I made mud pies but never ate them or worms. Gross. I did play with worms in the little ditch at our house over on Flint (again, in Shawnee). I can't imagine doing that now. Worms disgust me. And at the 67th Street house, we would occasionally have tons of baby frogs that we loved. Frogs or toads, I don't know which. The main thing was, they were cute.
And about the "putting your eye out" part? Unfortunately for us, my dad's brother did get his eye put out while engaging in foolish, shenanigans. A rubber band, maybe? (Obviously, it was quite a bit more unfortunate for Uncle Buster) So, no bb guns, no rubber bands. Although, Little League was encouraged. Again, unfortunately, little Timmy got hit in the head with the ball, and he kinda dropped out of baseball. BUT, he did take up tennis. So!
What Mookie's blog post first brought to mind, however, were summers in Haysville, KS. There was a school just outside of town, Freeman Elementary. It was for the ultra-smart students. You know, the gifted. Nope, I wasn't one of them. But, of course, Jerry Mark was. And so were several of my friends.
I was, however, allowed to step on those hallowed grounds. Sometimes I would walk or bike over to the school and swing on the swings. There were a few times that I kept on going on out into the countryside. (I don't know if things have built up around Freeman, or if it's still on the outskirts of town, where the countryside began). I was usually by myself. When I would leave home, I wouldn't know where I'd end up, so I wasn't able to tell my parents where I was going. Nothing ever happened. I don't even remember thinking I had to be on the lookout for trouble.
Today, I don't let Bethany ride her bike or walk down the street by herself. In fact, the other day, I told her to take Molly outside. I was working on the computer. Finally, it occurred to me that Bethany had been outside for quite some time (about 10 or 15 minutes). I stepped out onto the front porch to see what she was doing. She wasn't there! No Bethany! No Molly! I yelled their names! Nothing.
I ran to Brett's room and screamed at him to get outside and find Bethany! He, of course, looked at me like I was a nutjob.
I ran back outside and called for Bethany. I looked up and down the street. She wasn't anywhere!
I ran back into the house. Brett was standing there. Doing nothing. I screamed, "Get out there! Something's happened to Bethany!"
He said, "I've got her on the phone. She's in the driveway."
I ran back outside. "Where were you??!!" I demanded to know.
Bethany said, "You told me to walk the dog, so I walked the dog to the end of the street." Now it was her turn to give me the "what a nutjob" look.
"No!" I exclaimed. "I told you to take Molly outside. To go to the bathroom. In the yard! You nearly gave me a heart attack!!!"
This is how things have regressed. But, hey! I forgot, again. A happy post about happy reminiscences of happy summers gone by. Well, it may not sound like it, but for me, this is happy! :) I've said many times, and I'll say it again: I had a fantastic childhood, and if I could, I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat!
I hope this makes Bethany happy. She was so upset that I didn't mention her in Brett's birthday post. I reminded Bethany that she was not yet gracing the planet when Brett was born. Didn't matter. It's all about her.
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