TO GAG A MAGGOT

 

The night Rob and I first met we somehow managed to discuss our food likes and dislikes.  I did not know how big a roll food plays in Robs life.  He is all about food.  He has amazing taste buds and can accurately pick out food ingredients just by tasting. 

We discovered that very first night that we had little, if any, food likes in common.  Both he and I knew the moment we met we would marry so what was a little difference in taste buds?  I actually didn’t even know how to cook the things he liked to eat.  I grew up cooking Italian dishes and I am very good at it.  I had a huge ability to make casseroles and fresh out of the garden dishes.  I love various salads, pastas and breads.  Rob loved anything fried or with bacon grease in it.  The only vegetable he would eat was green beans and that had to have enough bacon grease in it to disguise the bean flavor. 

When I married I had never fried a single thing in my life.  I was one that ate baked, boiled, broiled or grilled; I had NO CLUE how to fry!  Here I had married a man who refused to eat anything that wasn’t doused in grease, how in the world was I going to feed him?  We managed to eat out or with my parents the first week of our marriage.  We grocery shopped and prepared for the next week.  After discussing my limited exposure to frying my husband decided that he still wanted fried food and he wanted me to cook it.  He decided to “give me instructions” on how to fry.  He wanted me to get it done before he came home from work so he was not there when I made my first effort. 

When Rob came home I had the table set beautifully with candlesticks, mashed potatoes, gravy (which I had never made before either), green beans and breaded and fried round steak.  We set down to the table with confidence.  I had made a wonderful presentation for our first home cooked meal.   Robin began to fill his plate with everything and complemented how wonderful it looked, well, until he got to the gravy.  We noticed right away that the gravy had sort of congealed.  It had the consistancy of jelly.  It was so vulgar, I nearly gagged.    Rob decided that was ok he would help me make gravy at some point soon.  Then we cut into our meat, the meat, though seemingly perfectly cooked on the outside, the inside was raw; again I nearly gagged.  The potatoes were next naturally they were not good, they were nice and “earthy”  in other words they tasted like dirt.  At this point I was ready to cry, my first meal would gag a maggot!  Rob calmly looked at me and suggested pizza.  So, we cleaned up what was to have been our first meal and went out to eat pizza. 

It is nearly thirty nine years later and I still cannot make gravy and the only thing I can fry is popcorn chicken.  I can cook the popcorn chicken because the pieces are so small that when the outside is done I know the inside will be too.  At this point in life (2017) Rob does the frying, but then we do not fry too often as he finally realized it is not a healthy style of eating.

The Antique Mall

Naturally while living in Yuma, Arizona I had the desire to shop at the local mall, after all I am a girl and I do love to shop.  As a general rule I preferred a mall as you have many shops to choose from at one location.  After seeking out the mall address and directions I was looking forward to my trip to the stores.   I had my mental list (shorts for sure) and a pocket full of money.  I drove according to the directions given me.  When I got to the mall I was pleasantly surprised as it seemed to have more stores than I anticipated although they did appear to be older.  I wasn't concerned, I was certain that even if the building was old the merchandise would be up to date

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I entered my first store and was amazed to find wooden plank floors.  I mean, beautiful, old wooden floors.  The kind that make that loud hollow sound when you walk on them.  They were beautiful!  They were old!  I was so mesmerized by the sound my shoes made on the floors and by the look of these wonderful floors that I actually forgot to shop.  I walked around the entire mall looking at the floors.  They went throughout the entire mall.  The wood was a rich honey color and were well oiled.  I don't even know if they oil wood floors any more but they did back then.  I spent nearly half of a day just walking around gazing at these beautiful floors

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You must remember that I was an architecture major in college so things like this were so interesting to me.  I know those floors were old, I don't know if they were brought from another place and used there or if they were original to that particular mall.  The floors were not on a slab because the sound of wooden floors is completely different on a slab floor than a crawl space floor.  A slab floor will have a dull sound added to the thump of the heal hitting the wood, a crawl space will add a hollow, deep sound added to the thump of the heal hitting the wood, this floor had the hollow, deep sound.  I checked to see if this mall still exists, but did not find it under "malls", it could however still exist as another type of service building. 

 

The title of this blog is "The Antique Mall".  I chose that because while the mall did not sell a single antique, the mall itself was a complete Antique.   

Fragrant Yuma

 

Living in Yuma, Arizona was a unique experience.  Although Yuma is considered by most as desert country, living there was not at all like living in the desert.  Yuma had many orange groves.  Who knew?  I certainly had never considered Arizona as having orange groves, but it does!  Yuma air, besides being hot as hades, had the sweetest smell of orange blossoms when the trees began to bloom.   Every breathe you took was a sweet experience.  I spent as much time outside as possible when the orange trees were in bloom.  Although Yuma seemed to be at the gates of hell with its heat I left my windows down when driving so that I could enjoy the beautiful, rich smell of orange blossoms.  The richness waifs through my mind as I type and my nose raises just a little in the hopes of smelling that sweet richness.   Mmmmmm, what a wonderful memory for the senses.

Another surprising fact that I had never thought of was Yuma had cabbage fields, MANY cabbage fields.  At the time we lived there I was not a fan of cabbage but loved to see the luscious green rows of cabbage stretching out in very long lines.  As I passed the cabbage fields I would often see migrant workers hacking at the bottoms of the heads and throwing them into the back of field wagons.  That had to be back breaking work as they stayed bent over all day hacking and throwing, what a workout.    

My little cat girl

I like to volunteer when I can.  When one of my grandsons was in kindergarten I volunteered as a reading buddy through our local RSVP program.  I was very excited because I believe with all my heart that if a child can read he or she can do or become anything. 

I began the year with two adorable children who were also in kindergarten.  I had a girl and a boy.  The boy was a chipper, eager little fellow; he began the year not speaking any English but was so quick to learn.  He would get so excited to see me it was all he could do not to run down the hall to greet me (running is not allowed in school).  He was an amazingly fast learner.  That young man will go far!  His favorite books were pretty much any, he just loved to learn new words, he did his best to read and learn.  I would read to him and he would repeat every word while pointing to each word on the page.  He was such an amazing little guy.

The little girl on the other hand did speak English and seemed to read really well.  She, too, would get so excited when she saw me.  She would avoid running down the hall by skipping.  She would come up and hold my hand.  She asked if I had children and grandchildren, I answered that yes I did I told her all about my family.  After she learned that my grands call me “Grammy” she asked if she too could call me Grammy.  I didn’t think my grands would be offended so I agreed.  This sweet little child was beautiful inside and out but she was poorly kept.  Her clothes were barely sufficient and certainly stunk.  At first when we met together I would nearly gag from the stench.  I grew used to it as time went on and never thought about it after the first couple of meetings.  She spoke often of her love for cats.  I would read books about cats to/with her nearly every week.  I brought some from home and others from the city library about cats.  She spoke often about her cats at home.  Apparently she had a number of cats that lived inside and outside her home.  She spoke of them individually as if each were human.  She loved them!

One day when I came for reading time she came happily skipping down the hall as usual but looked like she was sad somehow.  When we got into the school library and sat down I asked if everything was ok, she replied that one of her cats had died.  She named the one that died and I said, “oh no, what happened” thinking that perhaps it had been run over.  It was one of her favorites according to her but I have to say it seemed that they were all her favorites.  She began to explain what happened to her cat; she started by telling me how she had been bad, she had done something that upset her father.  Now, my mind thought, what does this have to do with what I asked but I waited knowing that sometimes children that age can wonder when they explain things.  Unfortunately her explanation was exact.  After she explained what she had done she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “My father drowned my cat because I was bad.”  Lord have mercy on this child’s soul, did she just say what I thought she said?  I asked for clarification to be sure.  Her reply was that her father often drown cats when she was bad so she had to be good so the cats wouldn’t die.  I nearly fainted from pain for this child.  This was horrible mental abuse.  I told her I was sorry to hear that her cat had died and let it go.  I wasn’t really sure what to say after that.  Trust me when I say it was very hard to concentrate after that revelation. 

I recalled that when I started, at orientation the volunteers were told that every year there were at least two children who would be found to be abused.  I never thought one of them would be my buddy.  I let the school councilor know after meeting with both of my kids.  She took note and asked that I tell no one.   It seemed that our reading sessions continued along with no other issue.

Christmas break was coming and I asked the school and RSVP if I were allowed to get gifts for my reading buddies; thankfully that was just fine.  For my little guy that was doing so well I bought the typical boy toys and books, for my girl I bought hello kitty socks, undies, shampoo, toothpaste, tooth brush, books and a plush kitty.  Naturally being me I got my dates mixed up and thought it was the last time I would see the kids before Christmas break so I took the gifts to the kids a week early.  They loved their gifts and the girl couldn’t wait to share with her siblings.  I was happy to do this small thing for this child.  As the week progressed I realized I had one more buddy meeting before Christmas so I went to school at the assigned time.  The boy came quickly to me as normal but the girl had such a broken hearted look on her face and I thought, “oh no, he’s drown another kitten”, but that was not the case.

Both children had taken their gift bags home, both with the intention of sharing.  When my sweet little girlie got to her house and showed her father her gifts I had given her, he immediately threw them all in the trash.  She was not allowed to have any of them because the other children did not have gift bags.  She was broken hearted and her father railed at her although he did not drown a kitten.  The end result was he decided they would be moving away from our city over the Christmas holidays.  The precious child thanked me for the gifts and apologized that her father had thrown them away, she told me how much she would miss me and I must admit it broke my heart. 

When our scheduled time was up I again went to the school councilor and told her what had happened.  She told me she knew the family had serious problems, other reports had come in and this was not good news.  I felt terrible because I felt like the gifts sent the father over the edge,  the councilor assured me that this would have happened no matter what and that they would do their best to get someone out to the home to investigate before they moved.   I don’t know what the end result was as my Crohns made me unable to volunteer the second semester but I think of the child often hoping and praying she is alright, that she lives up to her  potential even though her father wishes otherwise.   

This encounter changed me, I think for the better.  We never know who needs us or even how they need us but we really need to keep our hearts and lives open. 

First Flight

I flew for the first time when I was about 25.  I had moved to Montgomery with my husband from Norfolk, Virginia.  Rob had gotten out of the military and made the decision to move back to his home town.  The problem for me was my father had passed away only a year earlier and my mother was not doing emotionally well.  I worried about leaving her in Virginia with my two younger sisters.  My sisters were teenagers and very involved in their own activities as teenagers tend to be.  She was not taking care of herself and had been hospitalized a couple of times because of it.  Although we could not really afford it my dear husband came up with the money for Brent and me to fly to Norfolk for a week over the Thanksgiving holidays so that my mother would have me with her at the beginning of the holiday season. 
I flew out of Montgomery, through Atlanta and then into Norfolk airport.  Poor Rob tried to comfort me as I waited for my plane.  I am very afraid of small spaces so this was not going to be fun.  I was very stressed at the size of the cabin and experienced my phobia to the maximum.  Little did I know that poor babies do not do well flying because the air pressure in their ears.  Children and adults know to yawn, chew gum, swallow or something to release the pressure in their ears, infants have no clue and so just cry because they are in pain. 
The flight was a bumpy one as there were thunderstorms from Atlanta to Norfolk so we bounced all over the place which, I assure you was not fun.  Brent had ear issues which made him cry in pain.  I was nursing Brent and am not a person that EVER nursed in public so I couldn't feed him.  I had brought a bottle of water so I tried to have him drink that but he refused it so he found no relief for the entire trip.  Once we were coming in to the Norfolk airport the plane had to make a strong left bank over the ocean in order to line up with the landing strip.  I nearly threw up it was so sharp.  Because we were descending Brent was howling again. 
Finally we touched down and I was able to feed Brent and he was able to release the pressure in his ears.  My mother picked me up at the airport and took me to her house.  I had been so stressed with the small space compounded with a crying baby that I was sure I could never fly home.  When we got to the house I called my husband and told him exactly that.  He was going to get off work to come get me but after spending my vacation time I decided that I could in fact fly back to Alabama. 
Let me state here that I have never had a good flight, not even once, in all the flying I have done therefore I do not like to fly.  I since choose to drive most places I go!  It only takes 3 days or less to drive from my house to anywhere in the United States.      

Christmas crunchies

Lets see, Brent would have been 20 months old at this time.  As you can tell from the photographs it was Christmas time.   I decided to include this first photograph so you can see how the Christmas tree ended up being decorated.  You will notice the distinct lack of ornaments on the lower half of the tree.  The tree is decorated in this manner because I came down the hall from the back of the house to find him sitting in front of the tree EATING the ornaments.  He was eating the GLASS ornaments!  I was frightened to death.  I was sure this was going to kill him.  I scooped him up and took him to the doctor.  This was the one time in our early life that I actually had a car at home to use.  Rob had a motorcycle that he drove to work so I had the car to use in this emergency.  Thankfully the doctor did not think this was going to hurt him as it appeared he had done an excellent job of chewing up the glass.  Although his mouth had cuts in it they were not serious enough to worry about, I just had to watch to be sure there was no blood in his diapers and move all the glass ornaments out of his reach.  You will notice there are ornaments, but the ones you see are actually made of yarn.  I have always said Brent would eat anything if it didn't eat him first and this may have been where it all started. 

This was only his second Christmas and he was very excited.  In the picture at the top of the post you will notice he got a car hauler, a "motorcycle", a horse to ride on and yes that is a doll but it is one of those that teaches you how to zip, button, tie shoe laces, snap, and etc.  The photograph just above is Brent opening a gift, he's pretty cute for 20 months in his little footy pajamas. 

Lesson Learned!

When my oldest son was less than two and I was pregnant with my daughter we were living in Montgomery, Alabama.  We lived in a nice large three bedroom home where the den and kitchen were at the back of the house.  The side door to the house that led out onto the driveway entered through the side of the kitchen.  The door was one of those that has a window in the top, there were curtains hanging to block anyone from seeing in; directly next to this door stood the refrigerator. 
One evening after I had gotten my son to bed and had my husband all settled I thought, "I better get the dishwasher unloaded before morning, it will be easier."  I let Rob know I would be unloading the dishwasher and took off towards the kitchen to take care of it.
The living room in the house was at the front of the house and in front of the den and kitchen.  There was a doorway at the end of the hall not visible from the kitchen and the second doorway was at the other end of the room that went into the kitchen.  Little known to me Rob had snuck down the hall, through the living room and into the kitchen and was hiding next to the refrigerator just out of sight.  I never noticed him enter because I was concentrating on the job I was doing so I was ignorant of his position or intent.
Rob had this morbid need to scare the life out of me.  Nothing seemed to give him more pleasure than to scare me so bad that I screamed and jumped out of my skin.  He had planned this moment carefully, or so he thought.
As I was unloading the dishwasher I began to unload the utensil basket placing the knives, forks and spoons in the drawer directly next to the dishwasher.  Then I came to the huge, extremely sharp knife I had used in preparation of the evening meal.  I pulled it out of the basket, crossed the kitchen to put it in the cabinet next to the refrigerator and just as I reached up to place it in the cabinet (out of reach of my son) Rob decided to jump out from behind the refrigerator.  He got his desired scream all right but what he wasn't counting on was the knife.  In my fright I brought the knife down with a swift swing and came within an hairs breathe of stabbing my own husband by accident.  Guess who screamed then?  There we stood, both of us gasping for air from our fright.  I started to cry and he felt guilty and relieved since he was still alive.  Lets just say he never stopped frightening me half to death, still does it to this day, but he NEVER frightens me when I am unloading the dishwasher!  Lesson learned!