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Hmmmmm . . .
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Hmmmmm . . . |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York 
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Somebody please tell a story . . . |
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| © Copyright 2005 Sue Eckam - All Rights Reserved | |||
Nightshade 
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
What's the matter littlewing? Why don't you help us decorate the Lounge?  I don't have an interesting story at the moment...maybe one will come to me. We need our withchyone .... she has the best stories. Hugging you, Chris  |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
once or twice upon some thyme... ok, that's as far as i got! lol |
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Alicat Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094Coastal Texas |
Little Red Hoodlum Head   |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
mannnnnnnnnn . . . what the heck? I will have to tell myself a story then. This may sound sad, but it is truly a story of faith. ~~~ My son was maybe a year old. We had a new home, a child and an 80 something pound Chocolate Lab. Things were tough for us that year, needless to say, and out of the blue I had the urge to just go to church, which I NEVER do. We packed up and went during one of the times when there is no service and just sat in the church and prayed for maybe a half hour. Upon leaving, I turned and saw the St. Vincent De Paul container by the door of the church. I said to my then husband, "We have to put everything we have into this right now." And we did, emptying our pockets of change and cringing at a dollar or two that went in there with the coins. I had no idea why, we just HAD to. It was one of those old rusted looking containers that had a slot for change and actually said: St. Vincent De Paul for the Poor and Needy. Right after Christmas, my sister was married. We ended up having an amazing Christmas threw my sister a huge wedding shower. She never really had anything to call her own. That new year, my sister, my nephew and her new husband, (and his long-time step-dad) had their own home and tons of things to call their own. (finally) Days like the one I am about to recall, are probably similar to the ones when someone asked you what you were doing when Kennedy was shot, or when Princess Di was killed or when 9/11 struck and most recently, the hurricanes. It was like that, those things that never leave you. My mom called me in tears. She had said that my sister's house had burned to the ground. I had to do a double - take. I said: "WHATTTTTTTTTTT????" Holding my baby with the phone crooked between my shoulder and my ear. I said: "What was that? What happened?" And between crying, my mother proceeded to tell me that "something" in the home had caused a fire. It started in my nephews room, him then only 16. My sister was at work, as we spoke. She was not yet aware. My mother works in the Emergency Room and was there when they brought in my nephew and his new Dad for treatment due to the fire. I will never forget seeing my nephew, that struck me the most. A strong, proud Irish boy with a crewcut, going to a Catholic High School, many friends, popular, handsome and sitting in a wheelchair with a blackened face, fingers, burned clothes and a stare in his eyes that I can only compare to that of maybe someone in combat. My brother in law was completely black from head to toe and obviously having extreme anxiety because he was pacing all over the place screaming for ANYBODY to help HIS son NOW! He could care less for himself. They never were treated promptly and by the time they were, my brother in law was so upset, he took his new son and they both left. It was over two hours before a doctor even SPOKE to either of them. I came to my mothers, where my nephew was, curled up in her bed, in blankets, refusing to look at anyone. I asked to please let me see his hands, I knew they were burnt. I had with me medical supplies to try and treat him the best I could. He trusted me. He let me see. And as I treated him, he talked to me about what happened. He had third degree burns on his hands. He had to go to the hospital but I said nothing. I did the best I could for now and as he spoke, he thanked me and I tried not to cry. He was 16, he thought I was a strong person. We took my nephew to another ER and I stayed with him until he was treated, explaining the earlier sitaution and we were promptly taken care of. He was in shock. He had 3rd degree burns. They bandaged his hands, but I was more worried about his mind. You see, he was smoking. And a fire had started and he tried to hide it by putting it out himself. He didn't want to get in trouble for smoking. He did not want to disappoint anyone. He was on the football team, afterall, you know? His entire family consisted of the police force. He is supposed to be perfect. When the fire was out of control, his blanket and mattress caught on fire. He tried to shove it out the window and opening the window fed the fire. By this time, it was too late to do anything but flee. My brother in law, oddly, was home that day. He was awakened by my nephew screaming and the entire house filled in blackness. A proud Irish man, he ran through that house, crying, screaming for my nephew and grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him out of the house into the snow. After my nephew was treated and was ok for the moment, we had to go find my brother in law. Nobody knew where he was. We searched all the corner pubs and trust me, here, that's about every corner. We found him in one, raging and laughing, drinking away the day. Still black from head to toe, blackened face and coat and jeans and smiling. He was also in shock. I think the thing about that which upset me the most was that nobody considered helping him. They just let him drink and pace around like that. I was completely pissed off at these people, they knew him. Well. We walked in, and the only one who could convince him to leave was my then husband. The three of them came to live with us, in our small home until they could get back on their feet. We just tried to do whatever we could. The first thing that came to mind was to call the local priest. He said he would do whatever he could. About a half hour later, there was knocking on my front door. I had no idea who this could be. We opened the door and there were two men, blue collar guys, holding boxes. They said they were contacted and had groceries, clothing, books, money and gift certificates for my sister's family. When I asked where they were from, I looked at my then husband and we were in complete shock. I could not hold back tears, nor could he because those two beautiful men were directly from the St. Vincent De Paul Society. ~ ~ ~ |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
I grew up in the shadow of three very beautiful women. I grew up protected by the arms of giant men. I was born as an extra mouth to feed to a woman who was very, very tired. I was born with death anticipating me--before "failure to thrive" was a diagnosis. I have become a spiritual sort of person, or so I like to think. I have read (and taught) things I am no longer sure I believe. I worry about karma. I worry about clouds. I worry that the dead can actually see me. I think about how that idea can ruin a sex life. Not that I have one....<--but note the extra dot? I used to teach a certain system of thought which decreed that there is a certain systematic "grid" of built-in lessons to every life. I used to think with every trial, "I chose this experience." As if (and I am rummaging through my catalog of visuals here) that I was some happy smilie face soul, literally rummaging through a catalog, thinking, "this is what I need to do--I'll take it--allow six weeks for delivery" but yanno? My intellect rejects that. It's more like (if I must opt for one visual) life is an amusement park. I can picture me, waiting for a body, in the Bad- Ass roller coaster line, urging other souls, "you go ahead" until? the last car waited for me. That way I could deliberately get whipped around the tracks, standing, with both arms in the air, fingers shooting my expletives to the sky, screaming, "Bring it on!" Yep, I could picture me that way. But the truth is, I always say my life is more like...hmmmm. Have you ever caught a city bus from the last stop on a bad weather day? Nod. If I chose this life, on order, then this is how it was: Brakes squealing protest under worn brake pads--the driver yelling "move back please" and I can still hear the groans as I stepped into the stifling sardine can, paying my fare and wishing that I'd waited for a lesser bus. I wasn't wanted here yanno. So I try to be entertaining, and not so much trouble.  grin one would think so, huh? Not bloody likely. So...tell me a story? You go first. Tell me if you believe you chose your life--and even if you don't believe that? Tell me a story that tells why you might have... k? Okay.  You show me yers. I'll show you mine. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and me and the little wing were typing simultaneous. I go read now. grin... |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Just hugs, susie... you answer me before I ask, which is weird, but nice. Proud Irish Men. That's a book right there... |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Ali? Thank you for that story, I needed that - just bought my son the creepy Brothers Grimm too. Karen? You told a story within a story, I love that and I showed mine up there, but I ain't shy, I will show it again just for you. If I chose THIS life then I must have been gagged, bound and on heavy meds when I did. Then I look at my son. And I know I chose this life. Then I think, wait a minute, he chose me. No way did I choose him. Right? Everything I believe tells me he chose me. So if he chose me and I chose this? Then I guess we chose each other, huh?  |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
OMG stop typing! I'm laughing so hard over here . . . |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Okay. (exiting susie's head)  |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
this is freaky, I was typing when Ali was typing, we were typing at the same time . . . NO, I like you in there, its empty without you . . hellooooooooooooo hellooooooooooooooooooooooo See? |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Karen? This completely reminded me of LT Dan on the shrimp boat: That way I could deliberately get whipped around the tracks, standing, with both arms in the air, fingers shooting my expletives to the sky, screaming, "Bring it on!" and thank you for the story. (I meant typing at the same time) Karen has exited the building . . . |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
'Lt. Dan..you got new legs....magic legs!' You guys are awesome. And I am still trying to think of a story to add without sounding.....DUH. |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
I'm going to watch that now . . . OMG that made me laugh so hard . . . You guys ARE awesome. Nothing you tell would ever sound DUH. (silly) |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Ok, where ARE the stories? C'mon peoples . . . Me and the Lady is waitin' and she is tappin' her toes . . . Anything you feel like talking about, anything at all. |
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Ringo
since 2003-02-20
Posts 3684Saluting with misty eyes |
There once was a girl from Nantucket.... Oh, sorry... I guess this is the wrong forum for that story??? lol "...and as we drift along, I never fail to be astounded by the things we'll do for promises..." |
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icebox Member Elite
since 2003-05-03
Posts 4383in the shadows |
I am an old man and I have learned that memory is a funny business. This is a true story that is in my memory as fresh and full of detail as when it happened; yet I can’t remember what I had for breakfast a few hours ago. When I was very young, my father had a gas station. He was a car mechanic and motorcycle mechanic. I was 5 or 6 maybe, less than seven because my brother had not yet been born, and it was summer. Anyway, one day a woman brought in her car. It was a great big black Cadillac and she said it was making a funny noise. She said it made this shrieking noise when she turned the steering wheel to go around a corner. Today, the first thought would be the power steering was being over stressed, but that was not yet being put into cars back then. So, it was a mystery. My father took the car out for a test drive with me in it and we drove around the block. Sure enough, at each corner where he turned the way she had said, there was this loud weird shriek. I remember my father talking to himself and shaking his head and saying, "well, it's not the wheel bearings. God damned wheel bearings don't sound like that." We went back to the gas station and he opened the hood of the car. The old cars had huge in-line engines, not the smaller "V" shaped engines of today. He reached into the deep engine well, his feet almost off the ground, and pulled out a half grown very pissed off cat. It apparently had gone up into the engine well at night to get warm while the car was parked and got stuck between the inside fender and the engine block just above the exhaust manifold. When the woman started the car the panicked cat could not get past the cooling fan in the front nor past the rapidly heated exhaust manifold at the back of the space. It got trapped. When the car was turned to the right, the cat tipped to the left and singed its butt on the hot manifold and then it would shriek. My father was laughing when he held it up in the air by the scruff of its neck and the totally terrified cat was hissing and spitting and trying to bite and claw him. The cat had some of its fur singed off but really had not been badly hurt, just pissed off and terrified. My father called over one of the giant grease stained bikers who hung around the gas station and said, "here Dutch, calm it down and feed it, then ride over to the Vet's and see if it is hurt bad." Then he threw the cat at Dutch who was always a little slow to react unless he was riding his motorcycle. Dutch seemed to me always to be half asleep unless he was riding. He did catch the cat, but it was clear that the cat really had experienced all it wanted of meeting new humans. This guy Dutch was easily 6' 6" tall and probably weighed about 280 pounds or more, all scars and hair and muscles and tattoos. The little cat, barely larger than a kitten, ripped him open in more places than we could count. I remember every one laughing and having a good time (except of course Dutch and the cat) watching the two of them spinning around in circles. Dutch's arms were flailing; sometimes he was holding the cat and sometimes the cat was holding on to him with its claws fully embedded in Dutch's skin and clothes. He was screaming and cursing at my father saying things like "God damn it Duke (that was my father's name) the ******* thing is trying to kill me!" and other such colorful explicatives. The cat was clawing and hissing and spitting and climbing all over the head and shoulders of the huge biker. Now remember I was young. I barely came up to Dutch's waist at the time and thought of him truly as a big sleepy giant. I had never seen him move so fast on the ground. Finally, he got the cat in both his hands at the same time and the fight was then all over. He cupped his two hands against his chest and gave the cat just enough room to breath. I could still hear the cat making noise and it seemed obvious that it was biting him where ever it could put its teeth, but that didn't seem to bother Dutch because he started to laugh along with the rest of us and he started to get the sleepy look on his face again. Then he said to my father, "I'll be back," and he walked next door to the market. When he returned, he had a small piece of cheese wrapped in paper and a small can of tuna fish. At the time, I was not sure how he had gotten those things from the market because Dutch never had any money; my father paid him for cleaning up the place at night by giving him gasoline, food, beer and a place to sleep. Never the less, he had the cheese and tuna and he sat down on the ground leaning up against the coke machine. He was now holding the cat with one greasy hand, still in a hissing ball against his chest. He started breaking up the cheese into tiny pieces and shoving the pieces between his fingers, I guess toward the spot where the cat was biting him. I think the cat soon decided the cheese tasted much better than the grease soaked biker and things began really to calm down. Dutch sat there in the sunshine most of the rest of the day feeding the cat cheese and making peace with it. Later when the cat was curled up on his legs, I watched Dutch open the tuna can one handed with his big Buck knife; this was long before pop tops were invented. Then he and the cat shared the tuna. The cat got to eat first. Eventually, the cat went to sleep; it was almost like Dutch was a cat-drug in human form. He took the cat and gently put him in his old beat up Indian Motorcycle hat and put the hat on the window shelf inside the station office. Then Dutch went looking for my father. He was still a little angry. I followed him into the area where there was a repair pit. My father's gas station did not have a car lift. He had what was called a "suicide pit." It was a concrete pit about 6' deep with a floor drain and a ladder to go down into it. There were two adjustable tracks at the top (the floor level). A car could be driven onto the tracks and my father could go down into the pit and work on the underside of the car. These were fairly common back then in the old stations. They were called "suicide pits" because if there was a fire in the pit or if the car somehow slipped, the mechanic was not going to get out alive. My father was working on a car, but I really think he was down there at that time because he knew that Dutch would not go down into the pit when there was a car on the tracks. He did not even want to go down there when there wasn't a car on the tracks. Something about him not liking to be closed in. Dutch had been in the Second World War in the Pacific and he had gotten pretty messed up about being in small places. I honestly don't think he even liked to sleep indoors. Dutch asked my father to come out from the pit and I asked my father for a nickel for a bottle of coke. The nickel came up from the pit in my father's hand but he said he had work to do and was not done yet. I went to get the coke and after I took a swallow I handed it to Dutch. The bottle just about disappeared in his huge hand. He drank the coke and I think felt better because he stopped yelling. Then my father came up the ladder, slowly and with a very large wrench in his hands. I watch the two men stare at each other. My father also was a large man and hard work had made him very strong. He also had been in the War and I do not think he was afraid of any of the men who hung out at the station, not even Dutch. Anyway, after what seemed a long time, my father smiled and said, "God damn boy, you're a ******* mess! Why don't we clean you up a little before something gets infected." Dutch called my father some very colorful names but my father never stopped smiling. I remember though that he also never put down the wrench he was holding. Then the two of them were laughing and walking over to the gasoline pump. I should tell you that both these men were heavy smokers and had cigarettes dangling from their lips most of the time. This time was no exception. My father got a rag from the bin by the pump and went to put gasoline on it. Then he stopped and the two men did something which to this day still makes me laugh. Each took the other's cigarette and threw it into the street away from where they were standing, away from the gasoline. Then they laughed louder. My father put the gas on the rag and began to wipe the bloody scratches on Dutch's arms. I think the pain of the gas in the cuts must have brought Dutch to a higher state of wakefulness because he soon grabbed the rag, got more gas himself and took a gasoline bath right there in public. He did of course still have on most of his greasy clothes. Then he walked over to where my father washed cars. He took the hose and just put it on top of his head while he turned on the water. I remember the water having rainbows in it as it ran across the ground out to the gutter. It was late in the afternoon by now and I would soon be taken home by my father. The day's heat was leaving as the sun went down and I remember thinking that my big friendly giant had to be cold. He got on his old Indian Chief motorcycle and kicked it to life. Then he rode around the block about two dozen times until he ran out of gas and had to push it back into the station. He parked the bike and walked toward me and the office. As he walked by me he said, "That's about enough for one day don't you think, Bub?" He was patting his clothes a little to check for how well he had air dried. He went inside the office and sat down on the floor next to the cat and went to sleep. He took the cat to the Vet's the next day but there was really nothing wrong with it. I do remember my father talking about how the Vet had overcharged him just because Dutch had scared some of his customers when he walked into the waiting room with the cat inside his shirt. My father ended up having to pay the market owner also, because Dutch had not paid for the cheese and tuna. He had just walked in and taken it. My father also had to have the grocer's white coat cleaned because when he tried to stop Dutch that day, Dutch had taken one hand away from the struggling cat and lifted the man right off the ground by grabbing his lapels in his one free hand. That discussion with my father was more refined than the one my father had with Dutch the day the cat tried to kill him; at least when he talked with the market owner, he wasn't holding a big wrench. I remember my father kept repeating to the man, "He didn't mean any harm." The market owner kept saying, "That's what your monster said to me at the time." Then there would be more sputtering and discussion. In the end, money was exchanged and there was peace in the downtown neighborhood again, at least for a while. My father told Dutch that he shouldn't have lifted the man up with one hand. I remember Dutch saying, "Oh for Christ’s sake, Duke, would he have been less scared if I'd used two hands?" Dutch stayed around that year until the really cold weather started, then he rode south. The cat stayed through the Winter and moved on when the world became warmer. Late the next Spring, Dutch showed up at my father’s gas station. He was very tan, was still riding the big old Indian and was wearing the same clothes he had on when he left. He was still sleepy old Dutch, but he looked happier and calmer than ever. He threw me into the air when he first saw me and told me I was getting big. Later, when my father wasn’t looking, he put me on his shoulders with my legs around his neck and we rode around the block like that, around and around and around until my father was standing out on the sidewalk. Then Dutch pulled in, parked and put me down on the ground. The two men just looked at each other for a minute and didn’t say anything. With Dutch then was a small hard looking woman with a large chest and dark red hair. Her name was Betty and she was always talking in a slow southern way. Dutch did not sleep at the gas station after he came back from down South with Betty. She dressed a lot like Dutch and mostly smelled the same, heavy duty motorcycle oil, chain grease, road grime and cigarettes. Except, when she was around in the mornings she also smelled a little like Lily of the Valley. He and Betty would go somewhere else at night. I never knew where. She was nice and the other bikers all liked her. That Autumn when it started to get cold, Dutch split a pair of headlights on the Victory Bridge that crossed the Raritan River down by Perth Amboy. Splitting headlights was a game that bikers played back then. Two bikes would ride down the road, one on each side of the white line with their headlights about as far apart as a car’s lights. A third biker would go at them as fast as he could and go straight between the two headlights. Those old bikes could easily hit 100 MPH, some faster. So, when it was done right, splitting the lights would have the bikes passing at 200 MPH or more. I tried it when I was old enough and it was a very addicting trick. This time though it wasn’t two bikes coming at Dutch. It was a drunk in a car wandering across the lanes. The other bikers each said Dutch had to have known it was a car. I didn’t understand them, then. Dutch and Betty died instantly and Dutch’s precious Indian was shattered into hundreds of pieces. My father arranged for the burials. What was left of the bike’s engine went into the coffin with what was left of my big greasy giant friend who loved cats and Betty and hated fools and never backed down from a fight. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
*touching the screen* Charly... Not sure if you remember, but wayyyyyyy back when you first came to Pip--I admit this freely--I found your work to be incredibly intriguing. So I did what I always do, folks, I wrote him. I stalked him. I begged him to tell me stories. You told me this one, and I'm so glad you chose it again to share here. Stories? This guy has 'em folks.  and hey? There was a detail in this that got by me the first time around. A NICKEL for a bottle of coke? *hugs tight* for sharing a bittersweet memory--Dutch lives on because of you.  |
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inot2B Member Elite
since 2000-09-18
Posts 2205Arkansas |
Isn't it strange how the mind can remember details from so long ago. I'm glad you wrote this story. It was very enjoyable from begining to end. |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
What an awesome story icebox! My hubby and I just came in from Christmas shopping and he was laying on the couch while I read this aloud to him. He owns a Harley and is an "old soul", and thoroughly enjoyed hearing this true tale. Thankyou so much. |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
icey? That was beautiful. Thank you. I sat here reading, the rest of my world here blanked out as if I were staring up listening to you speak. (I believe I was, actually) You tell me things I need to know. Thats a good thing. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
He's such a beautiful teddy bear, ain't he? We love ya, yanno. |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Yes, Karen, he sure is . . . |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Wow..you sure can relate great stories icey. Amazing the way you captured me with your first words, drew me in, until I saw it all happen..right there in my mind's eye. Thank you so much...so very much. |
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latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
Wonderful story and wonderfully told. Thank you, martyjo |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Did I miss a story? |
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latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
Littlewing, thanks for the opening thread. Enjoyed your story but I have to admit I was thanking Icebox for his wonderful story wonderfully told. LOL. martyjo |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
ahh gotcha, sorry bout that, I misunderstood. Thought I missed something and yes, it was a most beautiful story, wasn't it? *smile* That is why I started this thread, just for everyone to say what is on their minds. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
I'll be back to read... and more. Thank you, Suzie....  |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
"I found your work to be incredibly intriguing. So I did what I always do, folks, I wrote him. I stalked him. I begged him to tell me stories" That made me smile Karen...when I first came to pip it was you that I found incredibly intriguing...but I am not the out going type so I sat back and waited...I was dying for you to respond to something I posted...and our mutual friend that isn't around anymore? I told him how I was dying to get to know you...lol. I have not been sorry, my instincts were true. and Icy? You too, when you first got here and I read you..I thought, "Oh, I have got to read everything he posts.." I am attracted to intellect. I am attracted to story tellers. I live in fear that people will discover that my intellect is a facade. That I am not as smart as some would believe and when that discovery is made all the smart people I tend to surround myself with will disappear. Dunc is a good story teller...where is Dunc?? Oh and Sue? I love that you followed your gut that day in the church. More people should. "too bad ignorance isn't painful" |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Susan--one of the things on my list of what I love about Susan C. is your honesty. You say what you think, and hold true to your beliefs, even if you think it will cost you a friend. I like that much, because yanno what? A true friend will never ask you to stop being yourself anyhow. Now tell us a story! |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
and ooops...yes, where IS Duncan? I need to talk to Dunc.  That porch puppy I adopted still ain't house trained. You think there's a connection?  |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Dunc is at the moment trying to fit a Christmas tree into a very tiny car... I said I wanted pictures!!  madly Karen, but I ain't much of a story teller.. and thanks..."too bad ignorance isn't painful" |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Yup, need us some stories . . . (who else slipped by?) Don't matter what it is, I can't tell stories either . . . just write whats on yer mind. (Dont make me tell another one LOL) Ears will be bleedin' . . . and all of us here ARE storytellers Sometimes we just do it in form. See? Susan, you acually did tell a story up there. I am so happy you guys are keeping this going. |
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kayjay Member Elite
since 2002-06-24
Posts 2015Oregon |
Icebox, you tell an awesome story, and enhance it by the skill of your storytelling. If we are fortunate as children, we meet these larger than life people and the memories never die. Thank you for this thread, Sue. And Karen? You always have my thanks for something you do. Ken Through rubble and trouble and dark of night The yawn of a dawn will hasten the light |
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kayjay Member Elite
since 2002-06-24
Posts 2015Oregon |
The dry cleaning smell and the sewing machine. When I was a young boy, 10 at the time, my father got a new job as Chief of Police in a small Minnesota town, perhaps an hour or more from where we lived. While he and my mother went househunting, I was to "stay home" until their return. I reasoned that the back porch was surely "home" and went out to enjoy the May sunshine. Within minutes, some friends called me to come down to goof around. Well, even from the "yard", the area behind and between a small shoe repair shop and a tavern, I'd be able to see the family Chevy, wouldn't I? However, within minutes, the constraint forgotten, we were off to the ball field and then to a street about 5 or 6 blocks where a candy store was located. One of the boys had a little money. Not until we returned, and I saw the old black Chevy, did my dad's words return to me. With trepidation, I mounted the steps to the apartment we rented from his mother. We lived above a dry cleaner and the scent of cleaning solvents seemed to permeate everything. There was not much mercy nor understanding of a boy's wanderings, and he grabbed at me with one hand and his police belt with the other while he yelled about teaching me to stay home when told. As I wriggled away, my mother screamed at him to take it easy on me. I scrambled to the small space between a sewing machine's treadle and the box. From my 6 foot 3 now, I can't believe that I could almost fit. Nonetheless, enough of the strap caught me to remind me that I'd also had to go to the bathroom as I came up the steps. However, I no longer had to go. The smell was not cleaning fluid. Ken Through rubble and trouble and dark of night The yawn of a dawn will hasten the light |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
aww Ken . . . my (male figure who is responsible for my birth) used to take his belt and snap it! You know what I mean? So it is folded and it goes: SNAP! SNAP! Thank you for this, I am sorry for that and you know, it makes me become a more understanding parent, less understanding of my own. Much Love to you. |
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kayjay Member Elite
since 2002-06-24
Posts 2015Oregon |
Hi Sue. Thanks for this thread. I suppose I've told parts of that story before; you kind of got it all. I came to realize, as an adult, that he was only a product of his own upbringing. Most kids of my generation had their bottom dusted. On the other hand, I wasn't treated with extreme cruelty, abused, confined or forced to deal with some of the incredible things we humans can to do children. Mostly, as a parent and better as a grandparent, I broke the cycle. I was lenient with my own and positively dote on the grandchildren. So I suppose it all evens out over time. You've done a fine job on pulling these stories together for us to know of the writers here better. Hugs, Ken Through rubble and trouble and dark of night |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
aww I didn't do anything, you guys are doing it all. I am the selfish reader. *grin* (and my Dad did that to scare us, it worked LOL) And YES exactly! I mean, when I was little things were always like that everywhere, I mean it was the norm. So different today, I mean what was a seatbelt? I recall *laughing here* sitting in the back of my Dad's pickup strapped into an old bench seat from another pickup. Me and my three sisters . . . Could you imagine that now? Sheesh, you would be arrested! But breaking the cycle, yes, I spoil my son . . . and I really think that most of us that did grow up in a (normal) to me home, where things actually happened TO you, good and bad, makes us who we are and gives us stronger skin. Also makes us empathic, understanding of others plights. Thanks again, Ken. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Hmmmmmmmmmmm....indeed. Remember that chapter on in the abnormal psychology text, Sue? You know, the one I talked about regarding *ahem* the genesis of the fetish? (oh Raph, she's gonna kill us both now... )"Hmmmmmmmm..." said Freud. and Ken? I'm just gonna shake my head and Hmmmmmmm...indeed. oh man.......grinnnnnnnnnnnnnn |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Okay, here's one, littlewing. I may have told this before, can't remember. I've really enjoyed reading this thread, btw. *** As many of you already know, Misc'e is my little sister. I, being the older one, always felt like I needed to educate her -- lol. One wonderful, sunny Saturday morning, the summer of 1969 when all was right with the world and I was feeling quite on top of it, having just graduated h.s., I decided it was time to take my little sister with me to downtown Cincinnati. We were rurally raised and I thought I was so sophisticated to be studying music with a conservatory grad from CCM. Cathy, that's Misc's name, would accompany me, and I, being the wise older sister, would introduce her to "real life." We hopped in my Bug and 30 miles later we found ourselves hungry for White Castles. Anyone who grew up in Cincinnati knows the miracle of White Castles. You could buy 12 for a couple of bucks back then -- the cheapest feast ever. We pigged out on the onion smothered mini-sandwiches, fries and orange sodas and then hit the highway again. We had plenty of time to get to my lesson. Once back on the freeway, I got into the middle lane. I noticed a pickup following me closely so I moved over to the outer lane to let him pass. It seemed odd. What was he doing? It looked like he was waiving at us. He pulled up beside me instead of passing. This was strange. So I sped up and moved back into the middle lane. Whoa, what's he doing now, I wonder, as he pulls to the outer lane and lines his pickup up with us again. Cathy is noticing now and she's saying, "Jo, that guy is shaking a banana at me." What? A banana? Of course, as the older, more "worldly" and wise one, I told her to ignore him and look straight ahead, right? But curiousity got the best of me. I looked over to see what the heck he was doing and, well, you guessed it. He was making love to a banana right there next to my little sister's window. At that point, I made a quick decision to slow down abruptly, get behind him and take the next exit. It worked! He was gone....pervert! Two weeks later or thereabouts, I decided to take my innocent, sweet sister on another road trip. This time, we went to the State Fair in Columbus. After a wonderful day there, we got back on I-71 and headed home. The Bug got great mileage but it was running on vapors so we pulled over to get some gas. Cathy had some money left and she pulled a bill out of her purse to help with her share of transportation. I asked the attendant to put $10 worth in the empty tank. I didn't really notice the denomination of the bill she'd handed me. Off we went again. Two sisters just having the time of their lives, singing and being silly. About 10 minutes back on the road after the refueling, a man in a white cadillac pulled up to my side and leaned over, rolled down his window and started shouting at me. I could not tell what he was saying, but he was waiving money at us. I noticed that he was making what I perceived as an all-to-familiar gesture (after the Cincinnati banana incident) -- up and down, up and down. Waiving money at us. I speed up. Cathy wanted to know what that man was doing. Once again, wiser, older me told her just to look straight ahead, not to pay any attention to him, etc. And then I explained that he was trying to proposition us. We both led very sheltered lives in our beautiful rural Ohio valley, and Cathy was still not aware of what "proposition" meant. So I explained that to her while I layed on the gas. For the next 10 minutes, a high-speed chase occurred on Interstate I-71. We passed two exits debating each time whether we should exit and try to escape this "creep." At the third exit, the "creep" finally gave up. Whew!!!! We both breathed a heavy sign of relief. Normality resumed. As we neared home, Cathy looked at me and said, "Where's my change?" "What change?" I inquired. "You know from the $20 I gave you." OMG, then it dawned on me. That "creep" OMG. Not a creep -- that poor guy -- he was just trying to return our change. It was hard to distinguish my feelings at that point. Both of us didn't know whether to laugh of cry. I think we did a little of both. And me, well, that was the beginning of my learning how little I really knew about anything. [This message has been edited by iliana (12-21-2005 08:40 PM).] |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Jo, I will be back to this, I apologize, on my way to my son's xmas play . . . and uh . . . what kinda stories are you two making UP over there, huh Karen? Are you refrring to my spanking obsession? THAT has nothing to do with my childhood tyvm. THAT was entirely brought on by adulthood.   little imps . . .  |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
must my good name be dragged into your pervosities?(it sounds good its a word now) i have no fetishes, i'm a wholesome boy who's waiting for marriage and will engage in 'the sex' only for means of procreation |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Jo jo? My sisters showed me the world too. and nope, I can't even go there. Not here, anyway. But laughing about the banana thing. There is much fun to be had with fruit. |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
That was an awesome story, Jo, thank you for that and it reminded me of me and my sister, 5 years older than I, we would get into stuff like that OMG I needed that story so much. Made me think of a ton of stories now. Raph? (I like that word, always told you to start your own dictionary) You drug (good, eh?)yourself through the mud buddy, rather, I guess Karen did. *grin* OMG . . . I'm cracking up over here . . . |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
 I want more please! "too bad ignorance isn't painful" |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
Your turn Susan. Everybody has a story. You don't have to write it--just tell it to us. |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
*laughing* yes indeed . . . because my mouth will get a yappin' if somebody doesnt  |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
see? I can't help it, I'm Irish, in me blood to talk . . . you would think I were Italian if you SAW me talking. A recurring dream . . . It must be Fall because there are leaves falling all about me and I am standing on a deck of a shack. It seems like Fall because everything is wet and you can SMELL the Earth and I am watching a river and the leaves just keep falling all around me. It reminds of that scene in Edward Scissorhands where he is sculpting and the flakes are falling like snow? That's how I feel, how she does, when she is dancing . . . I feel free in this dream, weightless, its beautiful. There is a long slick black topped road above the shack . . . a long road and its like you can see the place if you are ON this road, the shack is below this road, it goes to the shack and I am not driving, its a black car, a sedan type car, not mine, I have no idea who is driving, I know them, can't see their face. Don't know whose car it is either. It's raining, the windsheild is wet. I am dressed up in this car, the car is shiny, new but when I am on this deck I am like a fairy (I know that sounds silly but its true) and its ike I am a child, too. I am just in awe and wonder of this place and all I want to do is dance with the leaves . . . I have had this dream a dozen times or so over the past 2 years. I know where this place is and want to visit it soon and I have seen this place in my mind many many times, have described it, I KNOW it. It knows me. Love is here. In this place. My love is there . . . but such a child like freedom to this . . . I love having this dream, makes me feel at peace . . . Once or twice it changed but usually is the exact sequence over and over again . . . I never knock on the door but someone is with me always - kinda like standing right behind me . . . just watching me dance. |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
Sheesh, this is such an amazing thread. I cannot even add one original personal story sentence at this time, but have to tell you each of these stories touched me deeply. Hmmm, maybe I can conjure up something worth reading a bit later. My life is quite dull by comparison to some....or is it just my dull storytelling skills? LOL. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
We are just totally weird, as I was going to share a dream as well. (And hey lady, I've watched you dance and yer lovely. Me? I dance like Ellen DeGeneres. )But you showed me yours, so I'll show you mine. It's a dream I had on the porch in Crowley--so consider the circumstance before you dissect. * * * I slept soundly for once, difficult with the bugs and heat, but I felt that "good tired" and there wasn't the usual battle with my mind to "let go". I was blissful. ( to Susie.)The usual montage of images started, you know how that happens, as the mind backs up the days events. Then suddenly I found myself in the French Quarter. I was walking down the street in search of "Hoolihan's"--one of my favorite places to fuel up before a night of even more excess. I was walking on the sidewalk, which is not my usual habit of walking down Bourban Street. (It's just easier to navigate the crowds in the street.) I looked to the street then, and that's when I noticed--it was water. And not just puddled floods, but deep water, and there were gondolas, like in Venice, ferrying people about. That's when I realized the sidewalk was shifting, like a barge afloat. And that is when I realized it was a barge afloat. I never did find Hoolihan's, but not because it wasn't there. Out of curiousity, I stopped in the next open bar, and walked in and found it just as I remembered--except--next to the staircase going UP to the balcony bar, was a staircase going down. Ever curious, I went down. (Why do I picture Raph grinning here?) Anyhoo, at the bottom of the staircase was a plexiglass tube, as in an aquarium. There, below the bar, was the ruins of the bar, with fish and such swimming, and more adventurous tourists scuba-diving! The entire French Quarter had been rebuilt in replica, and was a floating mini-city of barges! I woke up amazed at first, then startled. Then I just felt sick. No coffee for me that morning. * * * |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
You guys are all so awesome. More please. |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
drinkin bourbon like a fish, eh? lol, and yep I can see Raphie grinning |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
wholesome boy, good clean thoughts here and nothing more..teehee |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
and there he is . . . I was going to say what would make Raph grin would be the going down part up there and winks right back to you Karen, I would do anything for you. So, you just described a microcosm within a microcosm, that one is going to have me thinking for awhile now. (You saw your city, Lady, maybe before the city even did) (I so cannot dance OMG) ~ ~ ~ I have something to share that just happened tonight. Billy and I have been sick all week and the phone rings, I never answer it, am a recluse - unless I recognize who is calling. I don't recognize the number but for some odd reason I pick up the phone. A man is saying: Susan? I said: Yes? He goes: I am from the Knights of Columbus and we have a Xmas basket here for you. I say: from who? (I trust no one) He said: I cannot say, it is anonymous. He said: We are at your front door, can you please come down. I said: OK I come down and nobody is there. (I have not been in the Xmas spirit at all and lost half of my Xmas stuff when I moved this year) So I go back upstairs and redial the number, ready to ream somebody a new you know what.) The man says: Are you still living at so and so address? I said: No, I moved. He is laughing, he said to hold tight - they would be right over. (Mind you, it is cold here, I am in flannel jammies and mocassin slippers with fur, I look like I need a blood transfusion and at this point, generally and most likely am in need of help, or look it just by my appearance alone.) They come to the door and they have three HUGE boxes. I am dying, I start crying. All of these emotions go through me - embarrassment, being proud, being grateful, happiness, sadness, thinking that there are so many more people who need this stuff . . . The men hand me a card. It is a beautiful huge white card with a golden angel on the front. This person knows me. It is signed by nobody. I said again: Who is this from? They said, smiling: We cannot tell, we are only the elves who deliver. (The only person I can think of who belongs to the MSGR Knights is a most true friend of our family, of my mom and my step-dad forever - we call him Robert (pronounce that French-Canadian) after Sabres winger Rene Robert '70-'71 or so, long story - but he is the only one who belongs to this and my mother isnt telling me anything) Ok, I am crying like a fool now and apologize for my appearance - the one guy says: C'mon c'mon . . its ok . . . get going these boxes are heavy and he was laughing . . . trying to make me feel better for the crying and also probably becuase I looked like I belonged in a psych ward. They leave and am still crying and tell me Merry Christmas, I say Thank You, I am speechless, dumbfounded . . . I go upstairs and my son and I look through the boxes. There is all kinds of things for him in there . . . there is a whole turkey in there . . . I felt guilty. I think, My God, I should not be getting this stuff. Some people have nothing. I think of who I can give this stuff to. I look to my son and said: Billy, you know when we give your old books when you were little and clothes that you grew out of to others? He said: You mean to the poor kids? (he doesnt know we ARE the poor kids, TG) I said: YES - well this year, someone had such goodness in their heart they decided that we needed this stuff at Christmas. He just thought about that for awhile, thats what he does, you can see his brain working. Later on when I put him to sleep, I said: Billy? Do you know WHY that stuff was given to us? Without thinking and looking me right in the eye he said: Because we are good. (Can you believe that? Because we are good) I said: yeah . . . (thinking about it myself) . . . we are good. and thats my Xmas story . . . [This message has been edited by Ron (12-23-2005 05:47 AM).] |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Sue ....hugging you! You are good...thank you for this story, and thank Billy too...what a wise child he is. |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
hmmm, Sue...so now I'll tell you one of mine? Tuesday afternoon, someone from a local agency called and said: "bring an extra large trash bag, and come pick up your presents" I cried last night, and not just because I had a flaming migraine attack that dropped me like the proverbial ton of bricks. Since the only day we have off together now is Wednesday, my daughter and I opened these wonder gifts last night. And at one point, she said "Wow, Jesus is really cool this year" as one gift was labeled 'to Sara from Jesus' while all the others were from Santa. I laughed and cried simultaneously. Sigh, I've almost always celebrated this holiday even though I haven't been a believer in Jesus. I have always loved the spirit of the season, the acts of giving and kindness that are the hallmarks of Christmas for me. Not much of a story, but one that rang my heart bells this week. |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Thanks Martie but see? Its all of us really - WE are good . . . to you for that*smile* and I WISH I had the thoughts of a child. Kacy? Not so much of a story? Are you kidding me? Your daughter is a mini you - Jesus is cool this year, I love that and you know what? I have had a total grinch attitude this year and that is so not me, I think somebody maybe thought I needed a lesson, eh? See? WE ARE GOOD. From the mouth of a 6 yr old. From the hands of others . . . it is sad we have to see our own selves like that, bare naked and crying . . . my sistah . . . somebody done double tagged us this week!(no fair) |
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Aenimal Member Rara Avis
since 2002-11-18
Posts 7350the ass-end of space |
it's been a bad year, haven't talked about my situation much, and even of those who know few know the full details. this isn't a story, or a vent about my situation. just a thanks. there's a disturbing lack of balance, let alone miracles in my life lately, but it's nice to read about them. it's buoyed me during the worst xmas ever(a fitting cap to one of the worst years ever). anyhow, it's hard to think of people more deserving of miracles than my friends here writing about them. so thanks for the thread, thanks for the forum and the friends i've found through it. there you go, my hallmark side, all serious and not one smartass joke or any sexual innuendo. although, "somebody done double tagged us" from sue's last comment?..snicker.. damnit.. i tried. |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
No story...no expectations this year... My Christmas present is reading each of your stories, making me smile or cry or do both... May you all have a wonderful Christmas filled with warmth and happiness M |
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Susan Caldwell Member Rara Avis
since 2002-12-27
Posts 8348Florida |
Karen, I swear I can't think of a thing...I have no more stories.. Unless we start sharing what might get us in trouble. Maybe if you ask me something specific it will trigger a story? (not that I am any good at telling them). and Sue? you are such a good Mommy and person. I am so glad to know you.funny how we all seem to be connected in a way that we can't explain... "too bad ignorance isn't painful" |
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latearrival Member Ascendant
since 2003-03-21
Posts 5499Florida |
littlewing: that was a good story. So glad someone knew how to cheer you up. And your little one is indeed a smart one. enjoyed. martyjo |
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Gentle Spirit Member Patricius
since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989 |
I have been reading and laughing and crying at all of these stories, and really didnt feel I had a story to tell until last night and now I guess I'm joining the club with Suzie and Kacy. It's been pretty evident in my writing this year that I too, have had a fairly bah hum bug attitude (what, Me?? yes...me) This past year was hard on everyone and around here it hasn't been a complete picnic either. Our recent sudden need to get moved from where we were living due to the oil spill (and our ex-landlords neglect) really put a damper on the holiday season. On top of that, we knew that until we saw what kind of bills were going to role in the first month after we were moved that we were really going to have to watch the cash flow. (By the grace of God, the company I work for loaned me the money to get moved, but it did take a few weeks to find a place.) Things are tight now, because I am paying them back with so much each week taken from my pay check until I can pay it all off at income tax time. Unfortunately our one bill came in, which we did expect to come in, and probably be high as all heating bills are much higher this year. What we did NOT expect was for it to be due in TWO weeks... needless to say, that did not help my bah hum bug attitude. We had decided to postpone Christmas here until I received my income tax return, but there was one thing I wanted to be sure that my daughter had for Christmas day. So..almost immediately after I posted my so called bah hum bug poem yesterday, I was talking to a friend of mine who lost her son at the age of twelve. When he was born the hospital did something that caused him to have something like MS. (I'm not exactly sure what happened, just that it was the hospitals fault for being negligent) Anyhow, she won a large settlement from the hospital and was living on it ever since he was small and did not work. She dedicated her life to him. He attended a special school for children afflicted with this condition. The school had told her that most children do not live past the age of twelve..( he died, one week before his twelfth birthday...sigh...) She recently recieved a very large lump sum. I have no idea how much and will not ask her. I have told her to keep it for her future security. Well, we are very good friends, and are always there for each other. We were planning on meeting today so she could give us gifts and I was telling her of how this bill had come in with only two weeks to pay it. On my budget??? NO way.... So, she told me she didnt want me to stress, she knows what I have dealt with this year and asked could she pay that for me as a birthday gift? Of course, I said no, and she said bull ___ (insert bad word) and that was that. God sends his angels, in many ways and forms. No matter what one might chose to call him/her... there is someone....thing.... that we can thank. And to make this story even happier? There is a second half to all of this, involving my teenage daughter.. (oh man, I can hear the groans and nodds of understanding about teenagers from here.....) Since turning thirteen, she has been a lil brat lately, but this is what I did to her... she had already been given a list of rules some time back.... Well? One day I was so upset I made up my mind the heck with this. I've told her I dont want to have to be one of those kinds of moms, but if she's gonna act this way then I will be one of those moms cuz I am NOT sitting here in tears and having my day ruined because she doesn't want to show respect... so? I typed up a list of just exactly what being grounded would mean, and what being on restrictions would mean, then I added what would get her butt restricted and would get her grounded. That night when I got home I walked in the door told her to get off the _____ (another bad word...) computer and since she wanted to be that way this was for her and thats the end of discussion. She said but mom why did you cry and I said April you already know why, we aren't going to discuss it and she started to say something and I said April that's it, Im done, Read it, learn it, live it and don't talk to me now, I'm to upset and pissed off, if you want to TALK to me later, we will... And all of a sudden? Her attitude has improved at least 75%. What this story all leads up to is, last night I was telling her about how it all depends on what happens the next few days here if I will have her present on Christmas day, or the day after Christmas day. She then asked if one of her friends can stay over night tonight, and I told her it was like this, I have off tomorrow and I dont want anyone giving me all kinds of attitude on my birthday so she could have a friend stay as long as she promised not to give me a hard time. She said ok (which we have yet to see) So, then she asked me what I wanted for my birthday, and I said, I already told you, I'm serious, just let me have an easy day and don't give me a hard time. She said, no mom, really what do you want for your birthday. I said, just your understanding right now about Christmas and the move taking all of our money will be fine. She said ok. Moral of the story? Maybe, just maybe if I'm lucky, I'm doing something right... *s* I apoligize for being so long winded but ok, thats my story for the day. My family is together and safe. THAT is my present this year. I am grateful, and I know that my family and I have been touched by an angel. *s* |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Donna.... |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Raph? I couldn't let the day go by without ...  |
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inot2B Member Elite
since 2000-09-18
Posts 2205Arkansas |
I have a story.... 2005, my husband is out of work, had to quit due to pain and stress from job. He has had all kinds of medical tests done and they say nothing can be done to fix him, arthritis in lower back. I talk him into going to the Chiropractor and try that. Well it helped a whole lot as he had a pinched nerve and the blood supply to his legs was also pinched. Now his problem was getting another job. He applied all around the area, but being 55 seemed to put him in the list of too old to hire. He was depressed and I went out and got a job. For four months I worked in central records at the local police station. Four months was like an eternity to me. I'm an anti-social person and have a hard time being around people. One day I called my hubby and said I quit my job and am coming home. The next day we went out to run errands and when we returned there was a message on the phone. A company he worked for over 6 years and hasn't been in contact with in over 5 years called and ask would he still like to move up the coast and go back to work for them. When he first worked for them he filled out an application to move up the coast. He was told they needed him where he was at. So for the time being he stayed till they sent us out of the states. Then he quit and we came back to the good ole USA. Now they were calling because they had a position open and the manager found his old application from way back when. We had moved and changed phone numbers several times since he had quit, yet the manager searched till he found his name in a phonebook and called leaving a message if this was the same guy who had worked for them in the past please call. My husband will tell anyone who asks, God is taking care of us……… He will most likely not be home for Christmas, as he is out in the Gulf of Mexico helping with a barge that turned over, no one hurt just lots of spilled oil. So my husband's company was called and he is on another barge loading whatever can be vacuumed from the bottom of the Gulf. This means that I will be alone for Christmas, as the children don't live near us. Yet this is going to be one of the best Christmas ever. My husband is so happy being back with his company and it will be the first time in 15 years we know where all 3 of our sons are, and they are safe and happy. God has blessed us many times. Hope this wasn't too long and boring for some, but I want everyone to know how much the blue pages mean to me. You all keep me in touch with the world. Thank you and Merry Christmas!!!!!! |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
inot2B - That was not a boring story at all. True life stories are never boring. I am so happy for you and your family. Have a wonderful Christmas. hugs, Chris |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
I have nothing to say . . . (oxymoron?) All of these stories have touched me, all of you touch me (shussssssssssssh) MY HEART. (Susan, you have stories - so do you Raph -plbbt!and thank you btw for that up there, Susan, go smack Raph for me . . . ) Donna? Inot? Martyjo? Chris? That made me smile, I need smiles. and each of you whether you realize it or not help me to get things straight in my head, help me to write, learn, grow, be a better person, get my frustrations out, be ME. That is a most amazing gift. Sometimes even those we know close to us at home do not understand us as well as ones we have never met. I think because here you can be yourself and I love that . . . A wise man once told me that people who know you see you as they want you to be, not for who you really are. Well, the very cool thing about here is that you get what you see . . . simple as that . . . scars and all and I wouldnt want myself to be seen any other way nor would I want to see any of you in any other way other than who you are. I am glad that so many of us are being blessed in so many different ways and I guess Raph summed it up best . . . it's hard to think of people more deserving of miracles than my friends here writing about them. for Raph just because Peace . . . and thank you . . . I asked for stories and I received . . . THAT is a gift . . . so keep 'em coming . . . (You dont want me to start blabbing again) (btw this is ALL Karen's fault, she started it a long time ago when she told me to STOP writing and START telling . . . then she started telling stories in Open and she IS a magnent . . . so yeah, my big fat mouth is all her fault . . . *grin* Susan? funny how we all seem to be connected in a way that we can't explain... TG . . . |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
What a wonderful thread this has turned into, littlewing! I am enjoying each and every story here. I just love all you people, and I'm wishing you just the sweetest holiday season ever. *hugs* to all. jo |
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Gentle Spirit Member Patricius
since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989 |
Huggin everybody tight for sharing in this thread. And the good news, she was such a sweetheart today, and? I just found out she got an A on a speech she had to do at school and she never even told me until now.. Yah, today HAS been good. Everyone have a wondermous holiday.. Man, we need a GROUP hug!! |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
 Seems fitting that everything, and I mean everything, kept me from reading this, until today. I would come in to start reading, and interruptions would spring from no where. But the wind woke me about 30 minutes ago, the computer was on my bed [don't ask!] and I thought... except for the wind, all is quiet, and peaceful, here. Now...now would be a good time... I have to agree with all of the comments above, all of the thank god's, all of the scars revealed...all of the in-spite-of's we've read... It occurs to me that in the last week or so [probably longer] I've come across information from people all around us that this has been a year that no one would want to relive. Yet... here we are, finding reasons, real reasons, to believe in tomorrow, and next year. I also have been telling people, and I don't know why, that in a few days, things are going to start turning around for the better. I don't like to blow smoke up anyone's skirt, but those words keep tumbling out of my mouth at the most unexpected times. Especially to myself. Yesterday I once again found myself in that high-anxiety place that my current position puts me in, to worry about whether or not I would be employed in this "employment-at-will" state. Here we are, spending money on Christmas, and will I be able to pay the bills in January [yes, but that's not the point...] I finally let my husband realize where my mind was, and he basically said, "good! Don't worry about it...you won't be unemployed long." Which surprised me, because it wasn't the answer I expected him to give me. And then as I was feeling better about the situation, I reflected back on the fact that another friend shares my concerns, and she had said, earlier in the day, "don't worry, because whatever happens will probably be for the better!" Man, I believe that, too... so tonight, er, this morning, I come in here to see what the rest of the world had been talking about, and find friends sitting comfortably, sharing things that I'll bet even some of their kids don't know about [hug Billy for me, Suzie] and am quietly reflecting on some of the past Christmases I have shared with family and friends. God gave me a wonderful Christmas gift this year. The reminder that our faith in Him, and His Son, is sometimes all it takes to set our world straight. The reminder that we should not, nor anyone else, take Christ out of Christmas [I've loved seeing THAT email go around the world!] And finally, the reminder that but for one man who had some foresight...without that, I wouldn't know and care for all of you. So I'm going to tuck a thank you Ron in here, [I've been told he's like Santa and doesn't miss a thing!] just because I can, and just because Suzie started this gentle reminder of what is good about our lives - and the fact that we can share the good, AND the bad...and learn from it all. So, this isn't a story, Suzie, but just a warm hug...and a kudos at the fact that you may be Irish, but I love your Italian gestures.  [This message has been edited by Sunshine (12-24-2005 09:05 AM).] |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
hahahahah Kari, gosh that made me smile . . . Merry Christmas to all of you, good or bad . . . look for one thing to make you smile and there you go. Hugs to Billy, Kari and thank you But this thread is a reflection of souls . . . I thank you guys for this . . . because in the positive (always the negative, why oh why) and as I typed my message up there, my nephew had his car stolen right out of the driveway on a main street in the daylight. Doors locked, no keys and its an older car so he has to eat that, you know? And I am not being negative here, it is just why I question this world so much, human nature, why good things happen to good people and bad things happen to good people and at the most crucial times it seems. He was the child in my first story. Now 20, ready to start his life, again, and has had a most difficult 20 years so far. His Dad died about 2 weeks after that fire in the beginning up there and he has been away to NYC and gosh, just been through some major stuff for being so young. So he has this car, and it runs great and its old. but he is 20. Its perfect and he is moving out on the 1st . . . with his girlfriend and this just made me go: What in the name of God is wrong with people? See? *sigh* Wish I could give him a new car . . . that kid deserves so much more from this world. And I know it had to be some crackhead. Who else would walk down thhe street and decide to steal an old car? Or someone looking for Xmas presents. Gosh . . . makes my chest hurt . . . that kid is like MY kid, I helped raise him so I am partial to his experience. Some day I will give him the world, I promise myself this. Merry Christmas everyone. Even in the midst of things like this, he has his family . . . as we have our own and have ours here. Much Love to you all. |
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Gentle Spirit Member Patricius
since 2000-10-09
Posts 13989 |
Happy Holidays Everyone!!! and Suzie? I have a bit of the Irish in me too. Big hugs for your nephew.....Raph? Big , and I most definately had that drink for you buddie. [This message has been edited by Gentle Spirit (12-24-2005 12:56 PM).] |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
Merry Christmas Everyone! Peace & Joy for the coming New Year. I am on my way to the best Christmas present ever.....my sister Enchantress! love you all! Chris |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
Hugging you all. Merry Christmas to each and every one of you beautiful souls! jo |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
The First Married Christmas They say time allows us to look back and laugh at ourselves. My first year of marriage to the first husband has always lent me a chuckle…in the aftermath. In fact, I look fondly upon that time as one of the reasons I have grown so far…I couldn’t be that remiss in my actions, forever. But God smiled…and left me moments that I will never forget. God does have a sense of humor. I won’t go into grand detail of the first three months prior to Christmas – let it be said I was married in September, in California, and moved outside of the state for the first time ever that same September, and by December, I had gone from a warm home life…to a wonderment of stages. I had also been blessed with mononucleosis, so I went from the married 115 pounds at 5’7” [and believe me, folks, my appetite was always that of a horse…so it was genetic!] down to 90 pounds. By Christmas I think I was topping about 100 – maybe 102 pounds. I had already been in Illinois all of three months, and had lost one job due to my catch of the virus, and had been employed at a small time insurance agency in early November. The boss seemed to appreciate my attempts at taking on the dull and mundane workload, and when Christmas Eve rolled around, I was surprised when he asked me, and my husband, to join him for a Christmas drink. We were to go to my in-laws house some 30 miles away to attend [my first ever] Midnight Mass [although not Catholic, I was looking forward to this sober celebration of joy] and apparently my husband felt, at 5:00 p.m., that a drink [or two] wouldn’t hurt before we were to leave for the family’s gathering around 10:00 p.m. That would give us time to gather, then leave for Mass, etc. Talk about plans of mice, and men. My husband was a man who enjoyed his drinking. He was four years older than myself, but the drinks I had experienced in my lifetime up until that point where innocent in kind. Oh, I had a couple of orange and rums before dinner of my senior dance [illegally, I might add, but it was 1969, and I ALWAYS looked much too old for my age…so have, as yet, never been carded, and hardly expect that to happen NOW… ] and then at graduation [still was 17, but Mom tasted my drink beforehand, and proceeded to allow me to drink in their home] and of course, when we were engaged later that year, I had one celebratory drink; and at the wedding in September 1970, tasted my first champagne, courtesy of my grandmother’s grand friend, Tracey. So suffice to say? I was not a “drinker” of any stage. But I knew my grandmother enjoyed her Scotch; my husband downed his beers liberally when we had money, which had been quite spare from September 1970 through that Christmas Eve….and I think you can see where this is going…. My then-husband hit it off with the boss who was pouring something rather sweetish and liberally over ice. I have NO clue as of this day what it was that I was downing…but it tasted good…too good. Our bad. I am not sure exactly what time it was that my husband went the few blocks to our apartment over the bar which was across the street slightly north of the Hospital, and directly east was the blasted pink Dunkin’ Donuts’ space….oh! You can imagine that neighborhood. Sorry about that. No wonder it took until just recently for me to appreciate pink again. Hmmm…hadn’t thought about that until just now. ANYWHO…. I had not eaten all day, hoping to get off early on Christmas Eve, which of course, didn’t happen. So the drinks had literally “done me in” and my husband wasn’t doing too well, either, so I suspect [although hadn’t thought to ask then] that he had probably downed a few something-elses prior to coming to pick me up. I remember telling him it was about 8:00 p.m. or so, and I needed to lay down in my natural altogether and would dress AFTER I got done being sick and tired, and he would wake me, yes? Well, he got down to his au natural state as well, unbeknownst to me, and ended up hugging the porcelain queen. What’s that lyric…I could have danced all night? Well, THAT night I could have SLEPT all night…after having done some few thousand turns of the stomach…. But what I remember most was being abruptly awakened by my very irate father-in-law who had a key to our apartment [which we had failed to take away from the in-laws after my illness, when they were checking in…and bringing chicken noodle soup and such] and I am not sure what he was more upset over…seeing me in the altogether in my bed, or seeing his son, who was still hugging the porcelain queen. OH, he was SO insistent that we quickly dress and get our mutual behinds down to the proper daughter-in-law who was attending Midnight Mass, and had called to find out why we were so late! [Yes, we were still SO poor we didn’t even have a phone….] Fully chastised, extremely embarrassed beyond anything I had EVER experienced, I obediently scurried to dress and wasn’t at all too sure that I shouldn’t take the steering wheel, as my hubby as FAR from sober to be driving some 30 miles in the dark. But Dad was a short, balding, stout German who one obeyed, when he demanded. And he didn’t demand a whole lot. I still wonder just what all he saw, and how long he stood, looking. I’ll never know. But I think he might have felt he had been gifted that night, and then the genetic strain of his upbringing took over…and he was just mad he couldn’t have looked a bit longer… As I look back on this, my cheeks still burn a soft pink…but not quite for the same reasons as before. Now, it is because I let a good man down…and I had never intended that, at all. Merry Christmas, everyone. |
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iliana Member Patricius
since 2003-12-05
Posts 13434USA |
SIL, blushing for you. I would have died right then and there. Oh, the things we remember and how we see them now! ....jo |
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Poet deVine
Administrator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-05-26
Posts 22612Hurricane Alley |
Reflections At this time of year I begin to reflect on the events that shaped the last 12 months. To take a phrase from ‘A Tale of Two Cities’, ‘it was the best of times, it was the worst of times’. On a personal level, there were so many ups and downs I thought my life was on a roller coaster. There was the sudden and unexplained death of my former boss who committed suicide. Then the loss of my dear friend Becky to cancer. My job here has turned into a routine, boring data entry job – and this year I made ten thousand dollars less than when I lived in Arizona. But on the up side, my family is healthy. I have a beautiful grandson and granddaughter in Illinois and in July became grandma to twins, Joshua and Samuel. All four of them will be with me in May for a family vacation. My relationship with my daughter and son couldn’t be better – they are magnificent adults – I am proud of them and the choices they’ve made in their lives. I survived two hurricanes with minimal damage. Others were not so fortunate. Katrina lingers in my memory as a natural disaster that touched so many lives and caused so much destruction to a unique city and culture. There were fires, tornadoes, earthquakes, torrential floods and enough natural chaos to assume that Mother Nature is going through menopause. It happened to everyone. Rich and poor. Beautiful and ugly. Well-known and unknown. Black and white. Yellow and brown. Old and young. Fat and thin. The religious and the agnostic. The literate and the uneducated. The wise and the foolish. The good and the evil. Perhaps it’s time we all stopped and took a breath. For a moment, together, find a quiet space to let go of the hurt, the pain and the frustration. Let go of old hurts. Heal old wounds. Make peace with opponents. Perhaps it’s time we looked forward with a clear vision. Devoid of prejudice and bigotry. Seeing not the exterior of a person, but the inside – the soul. We are all alike there. In the darkest night when the winds are howling outside, we are all a little afraid. We share so much! We need to get past our differences and find our similarities. I am not making a list of New Year’s resolutions this year because we have no way of knowing what we’ll be dealing with as the months unfold. So I will keep only this, which I’ve tried to live by: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Perhaps in that way 2006 will be a golden year. |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
love what you wrote, Sharon and may you have a very kind and gentle, happy 2006! |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Kari? I still wonder just what all he saw, and how long he stood, looking. amazing story, I loved that - made me smile and am still smiling . . . see? You are a Good Samaritan! I always told ya . . . |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
Sharon? THAT is the most beautiful wish anyone could hope for. May it be so . . . |
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Enchantress Member Empyrean
since 2001-08-14
Posts 35113Canada eh. |
Beautifully said Sharon.. |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Perhaps it’s time we all stopped and took a breath. For a moment, together, find a quiet space to let go of the hurt, the pain and the frustration. Let go of old hurts. Heal old wounds. Make peace with opponents. ~*~ Exactly. Because I too, feel that 2006 is going to be a golden year for so many of our family, and friends. I've been calling it the turn-about year. As for the Mother Nature comment? Had I been sipping coffee, it would have ended up all over my monitor.  Thank you, Sharon. |
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littlewing Member Rara Avis
since 2003-03-02
Posts 9655New York |
agreed . . . |
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Nightshade
since 2001-08-31
Posts 13962just out of reach |
amen ... |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Closed at author's request. |
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