I was born the child of a trail blazer. I was the final child of a forty-two year old woman back in the days when it wasn’t cool to be a mother at forty-two years old. That would make me what my siblings all referred to as the ‘baby of the family’, like it was some place of high honor, like I was a Princess… or something. Many times I would have gladly swapped places with either of them. It was a lonely position most times. My oldest brother was already fifteen years old when I was born, my sister was almost 11 and my nearest in age brother was already six, by one day.
Just to keep them in line, I was known to assure my three older siblings that after my parents had each of them they knew they could do far better and after three dismal tries and failures, they finally had me. They knew perfection when they had found it and decided to stop with me.
After I was a grown woman, I remember my mother telling me about the times my daddy’s mother would criticize her for having four children. (This was long after my Grandmother's death and maybe years after I married.) My grandmother seemed to think it was such a ‘sin’ or ‘shame’ at the very least for my Mama and Daddy to have ‘ so many children'. None of his other siblings had that many children. It really irritated my Mama for them to have this conversation and I can’t blame her.
Here was my grandmother’s count when she mentioned the other siblings. (1) One of her daughters had only one child, (2) another daughter had two children she had lost at their birth, (3) the other daughter had two children, but had lost her daughter at a very young age. (4) One of her sons had no children,(5) another one only had one child at the time, but would later have a second child, and (6) another son had only one child but (7) my mom and dad had dared to have four children.
Now math has never been my best skill, but if I’ve counted right, that means that my grandmother and my granddaddy had seven, yes, seven kids. And she dared criticize my mother for having four? So, she had three more than my Mama. I wonder which ones she would have given up if she had had her time to go over?
I don’t think my Mama would have given up a single one of us…well, not most days, anyway. No, I don’t think…I know… she wouldn’t have given one of us up. Good for you Mama, for getting upset with a nosy old mother-in-law, even if she was my Grandmother.
Maybe I sensed how she felt, and that’s the reason I never felt as close to her as I should have. I guess I kinda took her comments personally, since I was the one who was the tail-end of that family that my Grandmother apparently didn't think they should have had.
And, good for you, too, Mama, for recognizing perfection, although there were plenty of times when I really wished I hadn’t been so perfect. Then you may have felt compelled to have another sibling close to my age for me to grow up with. But you were pushing the age limit, weren’t you?
Showing posts with label 10 absolutely unnecessary things for you to know about me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 10 absolutely unnecessary things for you to know about me. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Ten absolutely, totally useless things , #3
Back in mid 70’s I got a bee in my bonnet that we ‘needed’ a microwave oven. The prices of microwaves were exorbitant (I know, that is a big word, but remember, I won the spelling bee in eighth grade.) way back then, but I really needed one. We had a two-year old son, and there would be many ways I was sure I could use it since he was now a part of our lives. I don’t think I had to beg too much because at that point my hubby also wanted one. We had visited his uncle and aunt in North Carolina and they had one for years, and we were both very impressed with those things. And, I’m a gadget-type person.
We did our research and price checked until we finally decided on a gigantic Sharp Carousel at a cost of $500-$550, plus another chunk of change.
Recipes for foods cooked in the microwave were just beginning to be adapted from the oven to the microwave at that time because a lot of people were still using them mostly for reheating their leftover food and other basics.
Several months later our power provider ran a notice in one of their monthly flier that they were looking for recipes of dishes converted to use in the microwave and wanted people to submit theirs for the contest which would be held state wide. Each district would have first, second and third place monetary winners then those winners from each district would meet for final competition on a state-wide level.
This intrigued me and I decided maybe I should compete. I would try this recipe and that, until I finally had one perfected to my satisfaction. I submitted my recipe and after final district competitions I was judged to be first place winner in my district. The rules required that my district sponsor would have to come out to my house and I would cook my dish for her, using my oven, my directions, time cooked, etc. and she could help me with any little suggestions, if there was a need for any. They could be only minor adjustments. She came out, found no need for any corrections, and I was off to the state for finals.
During the waiting period, my little two-year old cheerleading son walked around the house proclaiming, “Mommy’s gonna win! Mommy’s gonna win! Mommy’s gonna win!” He had me believing that indeed, “Mommy’s gonna win!” Those are some sweet words coming from a two-year olds little mouth.
The power company made arrangements with the microwave companies to provide the exact model we had prepared our food in when we met for the final competition. Of course, this was crucial to me because I had the Carousel and it cooked the food more evenly without having to turn it. I was chosen to be one of the first to cook my dish.
The power company treated us to a delightful luncheon accompanied by the judges and other dignitaries.
The winners would be announced later in the afternoon after everybody had cooked their dish. The stress was off of me because I had cooked my dish before the luncheon, and I was good for the rest of the afternoon, just waiting.
During the luncheon, strangely several women that I didn’t even know walked up to me and asked me if I was the one who had prepared the chicken dish, to which I replied I was. Not just one woman, but several. It was so very odd, and I began to wonder if maybe I had placed somewhere in the competition after all. However, these luncheon ladies wouldn’t give any further information. Very strange indeed!
So, after all, it did become a very long and nerve-racking afternoon. Finally the winners were announced, and I was lucky enough to place second in my category. I still couldn’t understand all the questioning by those ladies at the luncheon, just because I won second place. It was a good chicken dish, but… Later that afternoon my district sponsor told me that I would have won first place, maybe overall had my dish been cooked thoroughly.
It seems there was a problem. Since I was one of the first to cook, my microwave was hooked up to an area where apparently there was a lot of power being pulled from it, and it resulted in a brown-out of a type, thereby making my dish just a little under cooked.
You would think that since the power company was sponsoring this big shindig they, of all people, would have had a clue you can’t run so many microwaves off of so few cords. Mine just happened to be on the wrong hook up. They quickly corrected the situation, but since I had to provide my own food and I had already used it up there would be no do-overs on it. They had to go with the results they got from the food preparation that day and couldn’t depend on my sponsor’s word that my dish had really only needed that amount of time to cook at my house, under regular power.
All was not lost. I didn’t mourn too long. I had come a lot farther than I ever dreamed I would. How can you possibly be a loser when you have a handsome little cheerleader who believes in his Mommy? Even if I had not won at all, he believed in me and that made it worth it. He had spent an extremely long day waiting for Mommy to win without complaint.
What did I do with my prize money? Like any good citizen suffering during the energy crisis of the l970s, I invested every penny of it in storm windows for our house. It’s still paying off benefits after all these years. Quite an investment, I think. Maybe it eventually paid for that $500 plus microwave we invested in thirty-two years ago.
How much fun would it have been to simply write that I won first place in a state-wide microwave contest? There’s not enough drama in something so simple. I love being able to write about the drama in my life. My life is far from dull. I live it every.single.day. Don’t you wish you were me? Sometimes I wish you were, too. But since that’s no possible, you get to re-live my life here on my blog with me.
Just in case I’ve failed to mention it…my hometown's Only Newspaper In The County ran my picture and a big write-up about me winning. Twice. Once when I won District, then when I won State. Umm huh! THE VERY same one! My mother and daddy were so very proud of their baby daughter. Could you tell?
And it even made the BIG, Big city paper, too, complete with picture and all. That would be the State’s largest newspaper! I’m surprise you haven’t heard of me before now. No… No, really.
We did our research and price checked until we finally decided on a gigantic Sharp Carousel at a cost of $500-$550, plus another chunk of change.
Recipes for foods cooked in the microwave were just beginning to be adapted from the oven to the microwave at that time because a lot of people were still using them mostly for reheating their leftover food and other basics.
Several months later our power provider ran a notice in one of their monthly flier that they were looking for recipes of dishes converted to use in the microwave and wanted people to submit theirs for the contest which would be held state wide. Each district would have first, second and third place monetary winners then those winners from each district would meet for final competition on a state-wide level.
This intrigued me and I decided maybe I should compete. I would try this recipe and that, until I finally had one perfected to my satisfaction. I submitted my recipe and after final district competitions I was judged to be first place winner in my district. The rules required that my district sponsor would have to come out to my house and I would cook my dish for her, using my oven, my directions, time cooked, etc. and she could help me with any little suggestions, if there was a need for any. They could be only minor adjustments. She came out, found no need for any corrections, and I was off to the state for finals.
During the waiting period, my little two-year old cheerleading son walked around the house proclaiming, “Mommy’s gonna win! Mommy’s gonna win! Mommy’s gonna win!” He had me believing that indeed, “Mommy’s gonna win!” Those are some sweet words coming from a two-year olds little mouth.
The power company made arrangements with the microwave companies to provide the exact model we had prepared our food in when we met for the final competition. Of course, this was crucial to me because I had the Carousel and it cooked the food more evenly without having to turn it. I was chosen to be one of the first to cook my dish.
The power company treated us to a delightful luncheon accompanied by the judges and other dignitaries.
The winners would be announced later in the afternoon after everybody had cooked their dish. The stress was off of me because I had cooked my dish before the luncheon, and I was good for the rest of the afternoon, just waiting.
During the luncheon, strangely several women that I didn’t even know walked up to me and asked me if I was the one who had prepared the chicken dish, to which I replied I was. Not just one woman, but several. It was so very odd, and I began to wonder if maybe I had placed somewhere in the competition after all. However, these luncheon ladies wouldn’t give any further information. Very strange indeed!
So, after all, it did become a very long and nerve-racking afternoon. Finally the winners were announced, and I was lucky enough to place second in my category. I still couldn’t understand all the questioning by those ladies at the luncheon, just because I won second place. It was a good chicken dish, but… Later that afternoon my district sponsor told me that I would have won first place, maybe overall had my dish been cooked thoroughly.
It seems there was a problem. Since I was one of the first to cook, my microwave was hooked up to an area where apparently there was a lot of power being pulled from it, and it resulted in a brown-out of a type, thereby making my dish just a little under cooked.
You would think that since the power company was sponsoring this big shindig they, of all people, would have had a clue you can’t run so many microwaves off of so few cords. Mine just happened to be on the wrong hook up. They quickly corrected the situation, but since I had to provide my own food and I had already used it up there would be no do-overs on it. They had to go with the results they got from the food preparation that day and couldn’t depend on my sponsor’s word that my dish had really only needed that amount of time to cook at my house, under regular power.
All was not lost. I didn’t mourn too long. I had come a lot farther than I ever dreamed I would. How can you possibly be a loser when you have a handsome little cheerleader who believes in his Mommy? Even if I had not won at all, he believed in me and that made it worth it. He had spent an extremely long day waiting for Mommy to win without complaint.
What did I do with my prize money? Like any good citizen suffering during the energy crisis of the l970s, I invested every penny of it in storm windows for our house. It’s still paying off benefits after all these years. Quite an investment, I think. Maybe it eventually paid for that $500 plus microwave we invested in thirty-two years ago.
How much fun would it have been to simply write that I won first place in a state-wide microwave contest? There’s not enough drama in something so simple. I love being able to write about the drama in my life. My life is far from dull. I live it every.single.day. Don’t you wish you were me? Sometimes I wish you were, too. But since that’s no possible, you get to re-live my life here on my blog with me.
Just in case I’ve failed to mention it…my hometown's Only Newspaper In The County ran my picture and a big write-up about me winning. Twice. Once when I won District, then when I won State. Umm huh! THE VERY same one! My mother and daddy were so very proud of their baby daughter. Could you tell?
And it even made the BIG, Big city paper, too, complete with picture and all. That would be the State’s largest newspaper! I’m surprise you haven’t heard of me before now. No… No, really.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Ten absolutely, totally useless things #2
2. As an 8th grader I was second place winner in the spelling bee contest for my school. I have absolutely no recollection of the word that thrust me into that up-coming nightmare competition.
I'm pretty confident in saying it most likely wasn't the humongous word 'supercalifragilisticexpialidosis'. I didn't become familiar with that word until after I left home for the 'big, big city'.
Obviously, based on the word I missed in real competition, however, it couldn't have been much bigger than the word, "I" or "we". (We also won't go into a whole lot of detail about how many students there were in my eighth grade class. This was a very rural school and...well, you understand, I'm sure.)
I was tripped up by a very difficult word: ‘see-kah'. (Based on the very simpleness of that tad of information, it's pretty apparent there were at least two of us in the class, huh? And one of us could spell better than the other, right? That and the fact that I came in at least second place, as I mentioned above. Those were clues for you too, yes? But at least I placed, I'm proud to say. At least in the first competition.)
This little country girl, bedeviled with lots of jangled nerves from the pressures of standing in front of a large audience comprised of obviously much richer kids, snooty-tooty city teachers and just everybody in general, couldn’t understand a so-called high falluting, foreign speaking ‘speech teacher’ from the big city (to me) as she attempted to 'sue proper-lay pro-nahnze the woord.'
I still to this day remember the total humiliation of missing that word, especially when I finally figured out what she was trying to say. At that point it was way too late to salvage my dignity in that competition.
Of course I knew how to spell it. I just couldn't understand her pro-nahn-z-a-shun. Oh, she really did destroy that poor word. And what she didn't do, I finished off spelling it.
I personally believe Miss Proper was just being vindictive and didn't want anybody from one of those little rural schools to come in and show up the 'big city' school by winning first place. Or, maybe sub-consciously I was attempting to sabotage my spot in history, since I could never have gone any further without a complete nervous break down.
Perhaps it would have been understandable if I hadn’t known what she was talking about because we came from a cigar-free family. I didn’t say tobacco-free, just cigar-free family. That’s a whole ‘nother story for ‘nother day!
Being a part of the competition did reward me with an adorable, hot little store-bought dress with a waist fitted up to the bustline to show off my trim little waistline and whatever else there was to show off. Dare I say, I wore it well. It was a red/burgandy short-sleeved dress with black print. It made me feel all big and grown up like. Umm huh, it did, indeedy. And being store-bought made it worth the humiliation of losing out on a silly word like 'see-kar'. (See what car? What kinda car?) "Could you spell that word for me, please?"
We had our picture made as a group that day...winners and losers alike. The best of the best, or the best of the worst. Thank goodness they never mentioned the words we missed nor the round we were cut from the competition. But each of us was important that one day...important enough to have our picture printed in the local county newspaper. Did I mention it was The Only County Newspaper! Yep, the same one I wrote for all those years that I mentioned in yesterday's blog. Maybe the fact that I won the spelling contest for my class had a little influence on them letting me write for them? Maybe, just maybe? At least they never found out the word I missed. Not as far as I know, anyway.
Thanks, Big Sis, for being the one responsible for footing the bill for the dress. I know without your generosity I would never have gotten that cute little dress and flaunted my cute little waistline and...! It was lots of fun tromping around town with you and Mama, with me trying on and finding the perfect dress. Almost as much fun as looking for The Perfect Wedding Dress. Sorry if I disappointed you by not excelling further in that contest. Every penny that dress cost you was well worth it to me.
Might I add here, since high school in the big city was coming up the next fall, I was very careful to make sure I was never in one of Miss Proper's classes. Nuhhh, not me.
I wouldn't be surprised to learn that she spent the entire summer just dreaming about having me in her class. Yep, I'll just bet she did. She probably marked my name down in her book that day and said, "I con't wait to get thot young lay-dee in my closs." But I sure disappointed her. I was going nowhere near that woman again. Not ever! I had suffered enough humiliation from her to last me a lifetime.
If truth be known, she's probably the very reason I've needed therapy all these years. All because she couldn't pronounce cigar! No wonder I've suffered from migraines most of my life. Maybe I'll run that by my therapist at our next session. Yes, I think I shawl.
I'm pretty confident in saying it most likely wasn't the humongous word 'supercalifragilisticexpialidosis'. I didn't become familiar with that word until after I left home for the 'big, big city'.
Obviously, based on the word I missed in real competition, however, it couldn't have been much bigger than the word, "I" or "we". (We also won't go into a whole lot of detail about how many students there were in my eighth grade class. This was a very rural school and...well, you understand, I'm sure.)
I was tripped up by a very difficult word: ‘see-kah'. (Based on the very simpleness of that tad of information, it's pretty apparent there were at least two of us in the class, huh? And one of us could spell better than the other, right? That and the fact that I came in at least second place, as I mentioned above. Those were clues for you too, yes? But at least I placed, I'm proud to say. At least in the first competition.)
This little country girl, bedeviled with lots of jangled nerves from the pressures of standing in front of a large audience comprised of obviously much richer kids, snooty-tooty city teachers and just everybody in general, couldn’t understand a so-called high falluting, foreign speaking ‘speech teacher’ from the big city (to me) as she attempted to 'sue proper-lay pro-nahnze the woord.'
I still to this day remember the total humiliation of missing that word, especially when I finally figured out what she was trying to say. At that point it was way too late to salvage my dignity in that competition.
Of course I knew how to spell it. I just couldn't understand her pro-nahn-z-a-shun. Oh, she really did destroy that poor word. And what she didn't do, I finished off spelling it.
I personally believe Miss Proper was just being vindictive and didn't want anybody from one of those little rural schools to come in and show up the 'big city' school by winning first place. Or, maybe sub-consciously I was attempting to sabotage my spot in history, since I could never have gone any further without a complete nervous break down.
Perhaps it would have been understandable if I hadn’t known what she was talking about because we came from a cigar-free family. I didn’t say tobacco-free, just cigar-free family. That’s a whole ‘nother story for ‘nother day!
Being a part of the competition did reward me with an adorable, hot little store-bought dress with a waist fitted up to the bustline to show off my trim little waistline and whatever else there was to show off. Dare I say, I wore it well. It was a red/burgandy short-sleeved dress with black print. It made me feel all big and grown up like. Umm huh, it did, indeedy. And being store-bought made it worth the humiliation of losing out on a silly word like 'see-kar'. (See what car? What kinda car?) "Could you spell that word for me, please?"
We had our picture made as a group that day...winners and losers alike. The best of the best, or the best of the worst. Thank goodness they never mentioned the words we missed nor the round we were cut from the competition. But each of us was important that one day...important enough to have our picture printed in the local county newspaper. Did I mention it was The Only County Newspaper! Yep, the same one I wrote for all those years that I mentioned in yesterday's blog. Maybe the fact that I won the spelling contest for my class had a little influence on them letting me write for them? Maybe, just maybe? At least they never found out the word I missed. Not as far as I know, anyway.
Thanks, Big Sis, for being the one responsible for footing the bill for the dress. I know without your generosity I would never have gotten that cute little dress and flaunted my cute little waistline and...! It was lots of fun tromping around town with you and Mama, with me trying on and finding the perfect dress. Almost as much fun as looking for The Perfect Wedding Dress. Sorry if I disappointed you by not excelling further in that contest. Every penny that dress cost you was well worth it to me.
Might I add here, since high school in the big city was coming up the next fall, I was very careful to make sure I was never in one of Miss Proper's classes. Nuhhh, not me.
I wouldn't be surprised to learn that she spent the entire summer just dreaming about having me in her class. Yep, I'll just bet she did. She probably marked my name down in her book that day and said, "I con't wait to get thot young lay-dee in my closs." But I sure disappointed her. I was going nowhere near that woman again. Not ever! I had suffered enough humiliation from her to last me a lifetime.
If truth be known, she's probably the very reason I've needed therapy all these years. All because she couldn't pronounce cigar! No wonder I've suffered from migraines most of my life. Maybe I'll run that by my therapist at our next session. Yes, I think I shawl.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Ten absolutely, totally useless things #1
you probably do not know about me, nor would you particularly care to know, but since it’s my blog and my Granddaughter I’m keeping this blog for, in no particular order, here we go:
Notice: since this will obviously take up more of my valuable real estate than I had anticipated, I will break this down into one a day. So stay tuned for each days listing.
1. As a young girl throughout high school I wrote for the local newspaper in my home town. (Hey, it was and still is the only newspaper in the county, and that was a pretty big thing, so don’t laugh!) I was the best little gossip columnist you ever saw. My aunt, who also loved to talk even more than me, if that’s possible, also wrote for the newspaper for many years and she was my great encouragement for submitting news. Perhaps she thought the competition between the two of us talking would be thwarted if I could put my words on paper and not in real conversation. I would have time for listening. It didn’t help a lot; I still loved to talk. But it was a valiant effort on her part.
Notice: since this will obviously take up more of my valuable real estate than I had anticipated, I will break this down into one a day. So stay tuned for each days listing.
1. As a young girl throughout high school I wrote for the local newspaper in my home town. (Hey, it was and still is the only newspaper in the county, and that was a pretty big thing, so don’t laugh!) I was the best little gossip columnist you ever saw. My aunt, who also loved to talk even more than me, if that’s possible, also wrote for the newspaper for many years and she was my great encouragement for submitting news. Perhaps she thought the competition between the two of us talking would be thwarted if I could put my words on paper and not in real conversation. I would have time for listening. It didn’t help a lot; I still loved to talk. But it was a valiant effort on her part.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)