Friday, June 18, 2010
fireworks
I wonder why fireworks affect me so much? Why are they so profound in my emotions? Tonight Martin, Jaybird and I watched a fabulous fireworks show over Galveston Bay. I realized, while sitting there, that memories were blazing through my mind, bringing me such joy that I never wanted it to end. I remembered when I was a very little girl, sitting on the hood of a 58 chevy with my mother, trembling from the sound, but knowing that I was safe. The booming noise of each explosion rattled my nerves, but I could not look away. The colors were hypnotic. I wanted the noise to end, but not the beauty. I remember too, taking my children to a Fourth of July fireworks exhibition in the parking lot of a mall. It was so hot that night, but we were clustered together, sharing a very rare treat of Chic-fil-et waffle fries and cold soda. Little Otto loved those waffle fries, and each time I see them, I remember the joy on his little face as we shared our food and the fireworks. I am fortunate to live in an area where each Friday in June, the Kemah Boardwalk puts on fireworks for about 20 minutes. I can hear them from my house, and can watch them if I go just a short distance. Tonight was just such a night. Each explosion thrilled me, both the big circles of sparks and the smaller ones. I told Martin that I thought we must live in paradise- but now, reconsidering, I guess paradise does not have mosquitos! Something else occurred to me, and that is that I think most of us take fireworks for granted. I mean, you don't have to pay to see them, we expect them on the Fourth of July and New Years Eve, and we don't consider who is behind this marvelous show. Who pays for the fireworks to be shot off for us? Who has the guts to light the fuse? We don't think of those guys, do we? I do appreciate the effort it takes to entertain us with fireworks, and most especially, I love the thrill of the boom, the sparking color and the rush of joy as I remember fireworks that have given me such joy throughout my life. I love fireworks, but I don't like them up close. I never have. My brother used to shoot bottle rockets at me, and I would run screaming in terror, only to have his maniacal laughter torture me. He would drop little firecrackers in my path, and sneak up behind me to pop those little snappers in my ears. My husband loves to be up close and personal with fireworks, (I think it is a testosterone thing). He feels the more the better and the louder the boom the more the thrill. My boy loves them too. His boy loves them. I just have to bear with it when they all get together to shoot, explode, combine and enjoy the thrill of fireworks in their hands. I swear, there is no hesitation to light a cluster of finger damaging horror, only to run at the last moment before the physical damage can be done. I am scared to death to even attempt some of those stunts. One year, I had gone shopping and finally been able to buy some brand new towels for the house. At last, the towels would match, and I rehearsed the speech I was going to give, threatening anyone who would grab a new towel to use on a car, clean up a dog's mess or take outside to sun in the yard. Yes indeedy, I was going to be the towel police, and when I had company, I could proudly point out that yes, I have plenty of matching towels, washcloths and hand towels for their use. Driving down the street to my house that day, I noticed an ominous spiral of smoke coming from somewhere close to where I lived. It turns out that the smoke was the result of someone, (and I never did find out if it were children or spouse, they would not rat each other out) who had shot some bottle rockets across the street, only to find that the bottle rockets did not make the proper altitude and landed in the neighbors garage, setting something on fire. I jumped out of the car, panicked at the thought of a fire, when Martin came streaking by with a bucket of water, and was followed by two little boys who had the "crap, someone is in big trouble" look on their face. When Martin saw what I was carrying to the house, his face lit right up as he grabbed the bags of my lovely new towels and ran across the street with them. Without hesitation, and oblivious to my screeching objections, he dunked the towels into the water and began to beat out what was in acutality a very small fire. The little boys grabbed towels too, and dunked and beat. The fire was easily put out with no structural damage at all, but my new towels were ruined. Martin pointed out that I could wash them, but in my mind, they would never be the same. They ended up in the garage to be used on a car, clean up a dogs mess, or to sunbathe on. I reiterate, that I love to watch fireworks in the sky, but I hate them up close and personal. In any case, fireworks are a joy to behold, and a prompter of memories throughout my lifetime, whether good or bad!
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
company
I wonder why, when you are in the company of someone you love and admire, that no matter what you are doing, it is only the experience of being with that company that you remember?
I went to dinner tonight with my little brother and his precious wife. We had Mexican, and boy have I been starving for Mexican food. I looked forward with anticipation to going all afternoon, mentally tasting the variety of heavenly offerings that I would be enjoying. Funny thing though, I ordered my favorite shrimp quesadillas, but can not really remember eating them. These shrimp quesadillas are filled with large, grilled spicy grilled shrimp. The shrimp are firm to bite into and the flavor explodes in your mouth. They are encased in smooth, melted Mexican white cheese, and served between two crisp, grilled tortillas. I love them, but more than the quesadillas, I loved the company. As a matter of fact, I actually brought half of my order home, because as usual, I was so busy talking, I didn't have time to eat! So, how is it that social interraction with someone you care about takes precedence over your favorite culinary specialty? I wonder how feeding the soul is more important than feeding the body? I don't know, but I can tell you in my case, it just is!
I went to dinner tonight with my little brother and his precious wife. We had Mexican, and boy have I been starving for Mexican food. I looked forward with anticipation to going all afternoon, mentally tasting the variety of heavenly offerings that I would be enjoying. Funny thing though, I ordered my favorite shrimp quesadillas, but can not really remember eating them. These shrimp quesadillas are filled with large, grilled spicy grilled shrimp. The shrimp are firm to bite into and the flavor explodes in your mouth. They are encased in smooth, melted Mexican white cheese, and served between two crisp, grilled tortillas. I love them, but more than the quesadillas, I loved the company. As a matter of fact, I actually brought half of my order home, because as usual, I was so busy talking, I didn't have time to eat! So, how is it that social interraction with someone you care about takes precedence over your favorite culinary specialty? I wonder how feeding the soul is more important than feeding the body? I don't know, but I can tell you in my case, it just is!
Monday, June 14, 2010
I Wonder---- I Wonder-----
Today, as I sat in a McDonalds with Eli and Jacob, something occurred to me. I wonder a lot about a lot of stuff. I wonder about many things, but do not have the time to share them with my friends and loved ones. These thoughts flit in and out, sometimes amusing, sometimes confusing, but always thoughts that I would like to share.
For this reason, I have entitled this blog, "Nana in Wonderland".
The reason I found myself in McDonalds today with Eli and Jacob, is because I was waiting for Papa to come and pick us up. I had the brilliant????? idea that instead of sitting in the waiting room at the doctor's with papa, (who has been feeling ill for sometime), that I would go the JoAnns, a fabric store and entertain the boys. I mean, how long could he be gone? It was after Papa left us in bright spirits, skipping into the store to buy crafts, that I realized that I did not have my phone. Oh wellll- what harm could that be? He was coming back soon anyway. Well, the plan was to get the crafts, walk down the way to the Toys R Us and find some army cars and go to McDonalds. Papa would meet us at McDonalds, and if we were not there, he would look for us in Toys R Us. It takes rather a long time to decide which craft items to buy for little boys and girls. I love to make crafts with my grandsons, daughters, and little nieces, so since there was a big sale on craft items, I decided to stock up. We were well on our way to shopping closure, when Jacob needed to go to the bathroom. This required a long walk to the back of the store, so off we went. I wonder why, when I am shopping, someone only has to say the word "bathroom" and suddenly I have to go? By the time we reached the restrooms, my "suddenly" became urgent, and I had to trust Eli to take Jacob into the men's room for me. I had pressing business. So, I am taking care of my business, and I hear the toilet flushing in the men's room, water running, boys giggling and the door to the men's room open. Now they are in the hall, unchaperoned. I try to hurry, as I can just imagine the fun they are having playing in the water fountain. My body won't hurry. Now, the boys are running up and down the hall, shouting and laughing. I try to hurry again, and am rewarded with a huge blast from behind. From the hallway I hear, "Did you hear that? Nana farted! Nana farted!", this followed by huge gulping laughter. Now, I wonder why they had to announce that? Finally, I am able to get out of the bathroom to corral my little darlings. They were easy to find, they were on the floor, laughing at the top of their lungs. "Nana, a man was walking by and heard you fart! He started laughing, and that made us start laughing!" I said, "Thank you Precious, no, I don't need to know which man it was". (I just wanted to get out of the store before someone realized it was me in the bathroom.) We went to the front of the store to check out, and I believe I saw a few people glance in my direction with a smirk on their face. At last, crafts purchased and in a huge bag, we start for the toy store. It is about 95 degrees outside, but it is just a short walk- well, gosh, how could I have misinterpreted the distance? I guess it looks pretty short a distance when you are in the car! In reality, it was about a quarter of a mile. A long, hot quarter of a mile, and I can assure you it was hot, as the boys reminded me every step of the way. Before long, Eli looked at me with admiration and said, "Gosh Nana, you sure sweat a lot! I never saw anyone sweat like that!" Then I began to wonder why there was not a long, greasy trail behind me, as I must have lost ten pounds in that short walk! I stagger into the toy store, the boys galloping ahead of me as if it were a cold winter's day. Did you know there is no place to sit in a toy store? Not if you can't fit into a kid's sized rocking chair. I can't fit into a kid's sized rocking chair, and so I am forced to push a buggy through aisle after aisle looking for army trucks willing my shaking legs to keep going. Surely by now, Papa will come and rescue me! But it was not to be, and I found myself and the boys waiting 8th in line to check out, and of course there are no other registers open. By the blessed angel of good luck, we check out and are on our way to McDonalds. Did they move McDonalds? Good grief, it was wayyyyy across the parking lot! Seriously, it seemed that I could barely see the Golden Arches! Oh, and slightly uphill too. Now, I have two bags to carry, my purse and two little hands to hold while traversing a busy parking lot, slightly uphill. Eli again remarks on the magnificent amount of sweat I am producing. Where is Papa? We finally get to McDonalds, and of course there is a long line, and only one clerk. The boys continue to remind me that although they are starving, they don't want onions, mayonaisse, lettuce or tomato on their cheeseburger. Eli begins to panic, he doesn't want a cheeseburger! He must have chicken nuggets! Me, I just want to collapse into a booth with a cold drink. It is 12:35. Lunch is finally ordered, served and eaten. Where is Papa? To my surprise, it is now 1:10 and no Papa. "Nana, we want to go home!", say the boys. "Where is Papa?" After assurring them that he will be there soon, I suddenly remember that I had told him that I would call when I was ready. But I have no phone. I break down and ask a perfect stranger, (a very nice perfect stranger) if I can use her phone. I call Papa. No answer. I think for a moment, and call the doctor. No, Mr See left about an hour ago. Yes, we sent him for X-rays, he may have pnumonia. "Nana, we want to go home!!!" is the chorus from the boys. I tell them that I have it under control. I wait longer. The boys are playing with their army trucks in another booth. The counter people are wondering why I am loitering in their restaurant. I look at the clock, it is now past 1:50. . Where is Papa?
I wonder how a perfectly intellegent woman like myself could find herself on the verge of heat stroke in a hamburger restaurant with two little boys, no phone and no Papa. Common sense tells me to let the boys have ice cream. So I do. It is now 2:15 and I look up to see a wonderful sight. Papa! Just walking in like nothing in the world is wrong. "Did you have fun?" he asked. The boys begin to tell him just how much fun we have had. "Nana farted real loud and scared a man in the hall" says Jacob. "Nana sweated so much, and her face was as red as a watermelon inside" reports Eli. They both report that I forced them to march in the sweltering heat, stand in line at the toy store, and starve them before I could get their lunch! "But did you have fun?" asked Papa. "We sure did!" they said, and then, "do we have to go home?". Turns out that there was no time for Papa to take us home and make it to work on time, so he dropped us off at Jessica's work, and gave the boys some little poppers that you throw down on the sidewalk to harmlessly explode. Once again, I find myself roasting under a Texas sun, because the boys want to pop their poppers on the sidewalk. As I sit on some stairs, contemplating my situation, sweat running down my back, a popper hits my hand and pops. I jump like a stabbed pig, and the boys are in hysterics. "Did you see her jump? I didn't know she could jump like that!" I actually kept my temper. After all, time flies, and before long it will be only a funny memory that the boys scared the hell out of me under a blazing Texas sun while I sat on cement stairs in misery. Smart little boys they are, because after that, they kept well away from me and my long handled purse. The day finally came to an end. What did I learn? Nothing. I am sure I will find myself in just such another situation sometime soon, because Nana's heart only remembers the need to love those little boys, not the effort it sometimes takes to do so!
P.S. Papa did not have pnumonia, but a respiratory infection that is just really hard to get rid of. He will be fine. Oh, and he got a shot! Now who had a bad day?
For this reason, I have entitled this blog, "Nana in Wonderland".
The reason I found myself in McDonalds today with Eli and Jacob, is because I was waiting for Papa to come and pick us up. I had the brilliant????? idea that instead of sitting in the waiting room at the doctor's with papa, (who has been feeling ill for sometime), that I would go the JoAnns, a fabric store and entertain the boys. I mean, how long could he be gone? It was after Papa left us in bright spirits, skipping into the store to buy crafts, that I realized that I did not have my phone. Oh wellll- what harm could that be? He was coming back soon anyway. Well, the plan was to get the crafts, walk down the way to the Toys R Us and find some army cars and go to McDonalds. Papa would meet us at McDonalds, and if we were not there, he would look for us in Toys R Us. It takes rather a long time to decide which craft items to buy for little boys and girls. I love to make crafts with my grandsons, daughters, and little nieces, so since there was a big sale on craft items, I decided to stock up. We were well on our way to shopping closure, when Jacob needed to go to the bathroom. This required a long walk to the back of the store, so off we went. I wonder why, when I am shopping, someone only has to say the word "bathroom" and suddenly I have to go? By the time we reached the restrooms, my "suddenly" became urgent, and I had to trust Eli to take Jacob into the men's room for me. I had pressing business. So, I am taking care of my business, and I hear the toilet flushing in the men's room, water running, boys giggling and the door to the men's room open. Now they are in the hall, unchaperoned. I try to hurry, as I can just imagine the fun they are having playing in the water fountain. My body won't hurry. Now, the boys are running up and down the hall, shouting and laughing. I try to hurry again, and am rewarded with a huge blast from behind. From the hallway I hear, "Did you hear that? Nana farted! Nana farted!", this followed by huge gulping laughter. Now, I wonder why they had to announce that? Finally, I am able to get out of the bathroom to corral my little darlings. They were easy to find, they were on the floor, laughing at the top of their lungs. "Nana, a man was walking by and heard you fart! He started laughing, and that made us start laughing!" I said, "Thank you Precious, no, I don't need to know which man it was". (I just wanted to get out of the store before someone realized it was me in the bathroom.) We went to the front of the store to check out, and I believe I saw a few people glance in my direction with a smirk on their face. At last, crafts purchased and in a huge bag, we start for the toy store. It is about 95 degrees outside, but it is just a short walk- well, gosh, how could I have misinterpreted the distance? I guess it looks pretty short a distance when you are in the car! In reality, it was about a quarter of a mile. A long, hot quarter of a mile, and I can assure you it was hot, as the boys reminded me every step of the way. Before long, Eli looked at me with admiration and said, "Gosh Nana, you sure sweat a lot! I never saw anyone sweat like that!" Then I began to wonder why there was not a long, greasy trail behind me, as I must have lost ten pounds in that short walk! I stagger into the toy store, the boys galloping ahead of me as if it were a cold winter's day. Did you know there is no place to sit in a toy store? Not if you can't fit into a kid's sized rocking chair. I can't fit into a kid's sized rocking chair, and so I am forced to push a buggy through aisle after aisle looking for army trucks willing my shaking legs to keep going. Surely by now, Papa will come and rescue me! But it was not to be, and I found myself and the boys waiting 8th in line to check out, and of course there are no other registers open. By the blessed angel of good luck, we check out and are on our way to McDonalds. Did they move McDonalds? Good grief, it was wayyyyy across the parking lot! Seriously, it seemed that I could barely see the Golden Arches! Oh, and slightly uphill too. Now, I have two bags to carry, my purse and two little hands to hold while traversing a busy parking lot, slightly uphill. Eli again remarks on the magnificent amount of sweat I am producing. Where is Papa? We finally get to McDonalds, and of course there is a long line, and only one clerk. The boys continue to remind me that although they are starving, they don't want onions, mayonaisse, lettuce or tomato on their cheeseburger. Eli begins to panic, he doesn't want a cheeseburger! He must have chicken nuggets! Me, I just want to collapse into a booth with a cold drink. It is 12:35. Lunch is finally ordered, served and eaten. Where is Papa? To my surprise, it is now 1:10 and no Papa. "Nana, we want to go home!", say the boys. "Where is Papa?" After assurring them that he will be there soon, I suddenly remember that I had told him that I would call when I was ready. But I have no phone. I break down and ask a perfect stranger, (a very nice perfect stranger) if I can use her phone. I call Papa. No answer. I think for a moment, and call the doctor. No, Mr See left about an hour ago. Yes, we sent him for X-rays, he may have pnumonia. "Nana, we want to go home!!!" is the chorus from the boys. I tell them that I have it under control. I wait longer. The boys are playing with their army trucks in another booth. The counter people are wondering why I am loitering in their restaurant. I look at the clock, it is now past 1:50. . Where is Papa?
I wonder how a perfectly intellegent woman like myself could find herself on the verge of heat stroke in a hamburger restaurant with two little boys, no phone and no Papa. Common sense tells me to let the boys have ice cream. So I do. It is now 2:15 and I look up to see a wonderful sight. Papa! Just walking in like nothing in the world is wrong. "Did you have fun?" he asked. The boys begin to tell him just how much fun we have had. "Nana farted real loud and scared a man in the hall" says Jacob. "Nana sweated so much, and her face was as red as a watermelon inside" reports Eli. They both report that I forced them to march in the sweltering heat, stand in line at the toy store, and starve them before I could get their lunch! "But did you have fun?" asked Papa. "We sure did!" they said, and then, "do we have to go home?". Turns out that there was no time for Papa to take us home and make it to work on time, so he dropped us off at Jessica's work, and gave the boys some little poppers that you throw down on the sidewalk to harmlessly explode. Once again, I find myself roasting under a Texas sun, because the boys want to pop their poppers on the sidewalk. As I sit on some stairs, contemplating my situation, sweat running down my back, a popper hits my hand and pops. I jump like a stabbed pig, and the boys are in hysterics. "Did you see her jump? I didn't know she could jump like that!" I actually kept my temper. After all, time flies, and before long it will be only a funny memory that the boys scared the hell out of me under a blazing Texas sun while I sat on cement stairs in misery. Smart little boys they are, because after that, they kept well away from me and my long handled purse. The day finally came to an end. What did I learn? Nothing. I am sure I will find myself in just such another situation sometime soon, because Nana's heart only remembers the need to love those little boys, not the effort it sometimes takes to do so!
P.S. Papa did not have pnumonia, but a respiratory infection that is just really hard to get rid of. He will be fine. Oh, and he got a shot! Now who had a bad day?
Nana in Wonderland
Hello all, I hope that this reaches those of you who wish to continue to hear from me. Bobbie Jo's Miracle needs to be tweaked and readied to be published, I have had many requests for that! So, I will go back and forth between the blogs for a short time, and then, Nana in Wonderland will be my primary blogging spot. Why did I choose this name? Well, I wonder about most everthing, so I will be sharing my "I wonder why" moments with you! So----This is my new posting spot, and I am so very happy to have all of you to share it with. Let me know what you think, I love hearing from you!
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