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Posts Tagged ‘JRockGuitarMan’

 

Halloween used to be one night but it seems to last a full week now. This past weekend, JRockGuitarMan helped the fire department with their haunted forest. For $7.00, you get on a wagon and ride through the woods. With JRockGuitarMan driving, it may be a wild ride. I am assuming things jump out at you and monsters stir. There is also a huge tent. I have not paid my fee, so I am not privy to the haunted world and I keep forgetting to ask him exactly what the ride entails. Since cars are parked as far as you can see, I am guessing it is a good ride.

I purchased pumpkins early last week and set them on the porch. In the picture above, they are on the ground, but that was just for a picture. Being the observant children they are, the boys walk in that door all the time and just noticed them yesterday. Granted they are knee-deep in the fallen leaves, the pumpkins—not the boys, but they are still visible. They will probably carve them one evening, if not, they will be turned into pies. Did you know that the first jack-o’-lanterns were carved from turnips or rutabaga?

Thanks to trusty Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Halloween for that tidbit.

The pumpkin carving is for our enjoyment, alone. We live rural enough that we do not get trick or treaters here. That has been the drawback of our last couple of houses. I love living rural but I miss seeing the kids in their costumes.

I also miss my pumpkin soup, but I am the only one who eats it and I hate making it just for myself. But, being on my new “you deserve a treat” kick while trying to eat better, I just may do it. We usually get a couple of extra pumpkins and process and freeze the meat to make our Thanksgiving pumpkin pies. We also make two pies out of canned pumpkins for the white bread weenies in the family.

Our town has a great tradition. Downtown is a church/parking lot, with “Trunk or Treating.” The parishioners park, open and decorate their trunks and sometimes whole car. They play ghostly sounds as they sit in their lawn chairs passing out goodies. Parents can take little ones to get guaranteed safe treats, from the shops in town and from the church and the teens enjoy it too. I think they have a bit of stuff inside for the kids too. Artists’ Drive is another tradition the boys do every year. The residents of this long road try to out-ghost one another in the quality of their treats.

The outside decorations are not bad either.

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This is from That’s What She Blogged . I am adjusting it a bit because I have no answers for a couple of the questions. Feel free to re-post, that is the point of a Meme, isn’t it?

1. What is the worst treat to get when trick-or-treating?

Personally, do not give me gum
JRockGuitarMan has said that the worse thing to get is those “candy bars that are good for you–neutrian bars.” He tells me they are horrible and that they leave them on the giver’s doorstep, when received.

2. What character from any horror film would you most like to play?
I am not a big horror film fan. My Melatonin ** dreams are bad enough.

JRockGuitarMan says that, while it is not from a horror film, he wants to play Darthmaul from Star Wars, and Gaffer, if you are reading, do NOT write and tell me I spelled it wrong. I imagine I did.

3. Would you rather be a zombie, alien, or psycho? (why)
I want to be an alien, so I can travel in outer space.

4. How many Halloween, Friday the 13th, or Nightmare on Elm Street movies combined do you have on dvd?
I have zero but I am betting Gaffer has several of these and many more you have never heard of. This includes the one I call ”Water Soluble Clowns from outer space.” He swears I am combining movies but since I wake up at 1:00 am and he is watching them, it is hard telling. I am not a 1am person.

5. What is the scariest movie you have ever seen?
Psycho kept me showering with the curtain open until I got yelled at for soaking the floor. But, I did not sleep for weeks after seeing the 50s werewolf movie on tv. My brother had it on tv one night, but he was making crème puffs for us and not paying attention. Mom and dad were off square dancing. When I complained about how scary it was, he told me to turn it off. I told him that I was too scared to turn it off. Okay, I did not have great amount of logic as a child.

6. Lamest costume you have worn on Halloween?
Once, I wanted to go out but did not feel like dressing up, so I wore a black dress on Halloween. Strangers were coming up telling me what a good costume I had. When I asked them who I was, they said, “Germaine Greer. You’re a dead ringer.” I do not leave the house on the 31st, without a costume on, now.

7. Favorite Halloween treat?
Dark chocolate truffles. I don’t think too many people give South Bend Dark Chocolate Truffles though.

8. Friendly-faced jack o’lantern or scary one?
Friendly…a Jack O’Lantern just looks like it should be fun.

9. Have you ever had nightmares about a scary movie character chasing you?
Not that I recall. My dreams tend to range more of actors, well—not chasing me. Although, if Viggo would like to chase me, is is most welcome to do so. I promise not to run too fast.

10. Best thing about Halloween?
It’s a time when you can play pretend and dress up and be anybody you want to be. As a kid, you can be outside after dark. Plus, you never know when you are going to run into Zorro. He’s hot! Note to Viggo, wear a Zorro costume and I will follow you anywhere.

11. Strangest Halloween custom you’ve heard of?
Keeping Jack ‘O Lanterns until Christmas to see if they will turn into Vampires. Ask Gaffer!!

12. Person in your family who most likes Halloween (not counting yourself)?
EMT boy and JRockGuitarMan. They have two rubbermaids of false teeth, fake blood, swords, chains, wigs, masks and such. All year is Halloween around here.

13. Are you superstitious? If so, name at least one superstition of yours.
Nope! Nada! Not at all!

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I gave birth to two daughters.  I watched them grow and marry and have children and I am here to tell you.  Raising girls is WAYYYY different then raising boys. 

 

I did not give birth to these boys but they lived with me for nine, six and three years before their mother’s second marriage.  Then, I spent an average of three days a week in their home or they in mine.  The oldest, Gaffer, moved in when he was a freshman in high school and he will be twenty-two, in November.  The middle, EMT boy, is nineteen and JRockGuitarMan is sixteen.  These last two have lived with me for the last three years.

 

The big concern for girls seems to be their hair and their butts; and the respective size of each.  Boys: the big concern is more varied.  Shirt sleeves are a big concern.  It is amazing how much time a boy, in Brown County, can take rolling up and down a t-shirt sleeve.  We do, sad to say, live in a rather red-neck county. 

 

I know this because, periodically I have to remind JRockGuitarMan that he does not have a southern accent and that “ya’all” is, in fact, not a word.  Try calling his cell phone and you will think that Randy Travis is answering; with a hint of twang to it.  The boy was born in northwest Indiana and raised in Wyoming, but three years of Brown County takes over.

 

My brother, David VanVleck, was six years older than me.  He read books, listened to music with headphones on and played the clarinet.  He was quiet; unless he was complaining that I was not rinsing the dishes good enough.  This is not the norm with these boys.  They are anything but quiet.  I have stopped sword fights and wrestling in the front room.  If I pull in the drive, and only the boys are home, I can hear the stereo vibrating the neighbor’s windows. 

 

I think that girls are a bit more consistent too.  EMT boy has had his ear pierced three separate times, Gaffer, at least twice.  They decide to let it seal up and then redo it.  Is this some ritual to prove you can endure pain?  Girls are smart enough to do it and keep it.  Why go through that again?  Then, there is the tattoo.  EMT boy designed a fireman tattoo and has had it touched up once.  JRockGuitarMan, who hates needles with a passion, periodically discusses getting a tattoo.  I’m not sure he totally believes how many needle sticks are involved in the process.

 

Then, there is the military.  Gaffer will never let them get their hands on him.  EMT boy dresses military, goes out to Camp Atterbury and challenges them to the obstacle course and wins.  Wins “cool” military posters at school by doing more push-ups than anyone; but until yesterday, he was never entering the military.  I understand this, however, he has found out how much money they will pay him to get his RN.  He does not like debt. 

 

Now, JRockGuitarMan is talking military.  He, like Gaffer, has an aversion to homework and some idiot in Brown County, told him that he could quit school, get his GED and join the military.  He has visions of being Special Forces.  He was informed, yesterday, that if he drops out (in his continuing effort to avoid homework) that he will have to get sixty credit hours at the local college before they will take him.  Opppss!! That did not work out so well for him, now did it?  And, since all the teachers agree that he is a very bright guy, he will be doing his homework. 

 

The best laid plans of mice and young men—

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I have found the Catch-22 in my state’s health insurance.  Yes, they have given me wonderful insurance and they have given the nineteen year old, high school attending EMT boy health insurance; however, they have taken away the sixteen year olds insurance.  And, it’s all semantics.

 

I am grandmother/step-mother/guardian to JRockGuitarMan.  I have not been able to work for some time due to not having insurance and what the really crappy doctor’s poor people get, did to me.  That’s a way long, sad and boring story there.  But, as step-mother, I do not count as part of the family. 

 

Nineteen year old brother, while still in high school (due to no fault of his own, it’s that pesky little homeschooling thing.) does not count on our income because he is, well, nineteen.  Never mind that he cannot go out and get a 9 to 5 job because, golly, the school system insists he attend school during those hours and he is not one of those people who can do without sleep for days on end.

 

So, we have disabled husband, who counts, and is currently the sole bread winner.  Me, who doesn’t count, EMT boy who doesn’t count and sixteen year old JRockGuitarMan who counts, is sixteen and no longer qualified for insurance because our income is just a tad too high for a family of TWO.  We would qualify for a family of three and be way under for a family of four.

 

But, that’s right folks; we four are considered a family of two. The person writing this does not exist in the scheme of things, and in Indiana’s eyes.  I finally get insurance and now I have to worry that for the next three years, if this kid has to have a surgery, we will be in deep trouble.

 

It’s always something.  And, excuse me if I do not feel real humorous this morning.

 

Frankly, despite what CNN says, I AM offended and bothered by the price of Sarah Palin’s, who is a woman just like me (RIGHT!) campaigning wardrobe that they spent like a bazillion dollars on.  I shop at Good Will.  Why wouldn’t I be offended?  After all, they are going to donate that wardrobe so one woman, somewhere will get nice clothing.

 

 

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Mine grows with watermelons, tomatoes and marigolds all in a row; in October.

I took my morning walk and photography expedition.  Somehow, I just do not think this poor little watermelon will have a chance to grow up.

It’s also raining leaves today. It is very hard to get a picture of the leaves raining against a background of fall colored trees.  Below is a picture of just one part of our pond and the fall colors.  If you look really close in the front right is the board the boys jump off of and into the pond. It’s thirty feet deep in the center.  If you look really, really close on the far left, you will see a white speck. Apparently, someone got tired of standing up, while waiting for the bus. Or, while finding a place with cell, for their phone and drug a chair out by the road.

I’m off now to scan more of the old photo albums.  Although, the house is very quiet so I just might return to my line editing today.  Gaffer is in Santa Fe with girlfriend, EMT boy is off working at a leather store in Nashville, IN (He came home proud of the commissions he made yesterday on his first full day at work there.), and JRockGuitarMan is taking a break from guitar and piano to walk around the auto race track today in his fire gear.  No, it is not an exercise. Apparently they need fully geared firemen in case there is an accident.

Enjoy this beautiful fall weather.

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I have just undertaken a major endeavor. It’s not like I have no other “projects” in the works.  I made a list of these projects, for this post, but when I reached project number 14, I was getting depressed and it was definitely not a funny list, so we’ll pass on that.

 

The new project I have is to scan in all photo albums and pictures, of family—in my possession.  Master’s Daughter has all my home movies and is putting them on DVD’s.  So, this is the least I can do.  We could have a race to see who will finish first, but I’m afraid the projects may outlast us.

 

So, not finding a lot of humor lately—I mean, I got home from a seven day trip and the house was clean (as clean as it gets), the rabbit and dog were fed (although the dog did spend one day sleeping so sound, I am told, that when she was not snoring they checked her to make sure she was alive.)  EMT boy has found a job and JRockGuitarMan is living up to his nom de plume (is that how you spell that?) and expanding his guitar playing with lessons from a more advanced student.

 

So, I am combining my new endeavor, the photos, with blogging.  My family is such a font of humor, who could resist.

 
This is a picture taken not too long after my mom and dad were married.  I believe she may have a picture of the day they married and I will replace this with that when I get hold of it.  Visions of a young girl and marriage in a white gown turned into a woman who wore a suit and married my father in front of a Justice of the Peace. 

 

The J.P. was also a gas station owner and they married in front of the pumps and, when mom looked down, he had a hole in the toe of his sneakers.

 

My mother is eighty-six now, and this hole in the toe of his shoe is still an insult to her. But, her main gripe is probably my father’s actions after the ceremony.  Dad believed he was boss.

 

On the way to his parents home, where they were going to stay, dad stopped the car and told mom to open her purse.  He then reached in and took out her mascara and threw it out the window.  Dad never quit trying to be boss after that and, about fifteen years later, mom finally decided he was not going to be boss.

 

Mother relates that her first thoughts, after his actions were, “What have I done? This is for life? I can’t get out of this?”

 

Twenty-five years later, they celebrated their anniversary with four of their eventual ten grandchildren.  The little sweetie at the bottom left, hosted their fiftieth anniversary in her backyard, complete with a faux wedding ceremony, without a gas station pump and a man with his toe sticking out of his sneaker.

Joyce, Jamie, Toni (in arms) & Johnny

Mom and Dad, 25th anniversary, with grandchildren: Joyce, Jamie, Toni (in arms) & Johnny

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Today, we were having a “Dennis Conversation.”

 

JRockGuitarMan and granddad were having a discussion. 

 

JRockGuitarMan is trying to describe a movie wherein Nicholas Cage is a hit man and then became the prey.

 

Granddad said something about it being on Starz tonight.

 

Whereupon, like an idiot, I quit minding my own business (For some reason I am always the one in charge of the remotes) and asked what channel that was, and went to it, only to see that No Country for Old Men is on tonight.

 

 “I didn’t know Nicholas Cage was in No Country for Old Men.” I say.

 

Granddad says, “He’s not.” then he continued to talk and I held up my hand to stop him because that can go on forever, and there really wasn’t any point. I realized what was happening right away.

 

It seems that none of the three of us was talking about the same thing and THAT is what a “Dennis conversation” is.

 

I have had many of these discussions with our friend, Dennis. How it is that he and I can talk for a half hour before discovering that neither of us are talking about the same thing, is beyond me.

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