Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘Twinkies’

I love the blog, A Mask to Hide Behind, which is now (June 2009) actually  A LIFE IN THE DAY OF ME.  In fact, I like it so well that it is currently one of only two Blogs I subscribe to. Of course, it may be they are the only ones who make it easy to figure out how to subscribe to and there are days when it comes in my email and later I click down my blog links and go, “Drat! I already read this one.” and I am disappointed that I have alrady had the experience.  So, I am not sure I like this subscribe thing.

 

But, the “girl behind the mask” writes in such a simple, direct manner, and her family gives her so much good material, that it has become my daily morning laugh.  After I am done laughing, I can let out that deep sigh and return to my family, saying, “They’re not all that bad.” 

 

 

Ah, but they are; just in their own way.

 

 

My mother for one: She is of a generation who does not sweat or swear or actually discuss any bodily functions.  Words like piddle and sugar are as bad a swear word as she gets. It is also wrong for a woman to have a temper. 

 

Now, my father had a temper that made up for her lack of one. Once, when they were newly married and living in a tiny house trailer, he got mad and kicked the wood stove. The stove leg broke, causing the stove to crash to the side and dump, the pipe came unhinged, and soot and ash covered everything.

 

 

“Do you feel better now?” Mom asked him.

 

 

“Yes, I do.” He replied.

 

 

“Then, clean it up yourself.”

 

 

(Honest: I am not sure of the conversation, as I was not born yet, but that is what I imagine the conversation to be.  Mind you, that is nowhere near what I would have said, as I grabbed my coat and car keys, but mom did not drive, and the conversation probably ended in her cleaning up the soot.)

 

Many years later, after the children were grown and gone and the “debates” raged in their house as to whether the sky was really blue, or whether it was a bird or a bear on the deck, or had the electric bill come or who actually put the tax forms in the dash of the car (and that was a good one too, as dad actually <when he found the forms in the dash> had to admit that he had done it, but belligerently he added, “Why did you let me do that?”

 

Thus, making it mom’s fault.

 

After all this, came a day when mother had enough of dad’s temper.

 

They were in the kitchen, when the shit hit the fan, so to speak (and she would never ever say that either).  Mother just had enough of dad’s yelling, and she took her hand and swept dishes and a box of Twinkies off the counter. 

 

As I understand it, the Twinkies flew across the room, hit a wall and bounced down the stairs.  Dad stood open mouthed at the hitherto unseen violence of mom’s actions and mom took off for the bedroom crying; not because she was mad at dad but because she had fallen so far that she committed a violent act like throwing the Twinkies.

 

Such an unladylike thing to do! Tisk! Tisk!

 

Later she would remark that temper serves no purpose, as besides having broken dishes, which also cut her leg, she now had a dirty box of Twinkies

 

“But, didn’t you feel better, Mom?” I asked when the story was relayed to me.

 

Head down and eyes up, she sheepishly replied a barely audible, “Yes, but I had to clean it up.”

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Where would you go, if you won a trip to anywhere in the world.

 

My list is almost too long to mention. Alaska to see the Northern Lights, anywhere to watch the whales, Holland/Norway, the Basque Country, to see what really made my ancestors who they were, and Japan to find a long lost friend, Junko Kanazawa.  India to photograph the women in their vibrant sari’s and learn more about Buddhism.  Africa for the music, culture and animals and for fun: New Zealand.  Send me a ticket, and with two seconds to pack my sketch pad and camera, I’m there.

 

I grew up in Indiana, thirty miles outside of Chicago. My father’s reason for never going to Chicago was stated succinctly.  “I never lost anything in Chicago. So, I don’t have to go back to get it.” The Dunes National Park was a short drive east. Couldn’t go there, He heard from someone, who knew someone, who was mugged there once.  He also told me once that anything he wanted to see, he could see on his television.  Dad was not adventurous.

 

Dad worked at Combustion Engineering and the family went to town once every other week, on payday.  They got groceries in Griffith, Indiana, where I would go to the library and carry out a load of books that stretched my arms down like an orangutan. Clothing was delivered by the Sears man.  In the summer, we would eat beer batter Fish and Chips at a drive-in restaurant on payday. I think it was at Broad and Main, in Griffith.

 

I however, wanted to move, since I remember being able to think.  I would look out an office window of a skyscraper and envy every one of those cars zooming by on the expressway, then I would go back to my typing.  I’ve been to 49 of the 50 states, Canada and momentarily in Mexico.  So, the world is ahead of me yet..

 

Mom was there when we got home from school and cooked dinner, until the fateful day in history when TV Dinners blighted the earth.  She was having health problems, so it was quick fix, and, like Twinkies and White Castle, I thought they tasted better then, than they do now.

 

Dad’s big travel was his yearly two week vacation. The first I remember were the trips to cabins in Wisconsin. We spent two glorious weeks swimming, hiking and swatting mosquitoes. I loved it and the woods. Then, they bought a station wagon and camping equipment and my brother and I were in heaven.  I haven’t been camping in years and I really miss it.  I’m never so happy as when I am outdoors, anywhere.

Read Full Post »