FRIENDS

          

So blessed by and grateful for: Friends who visit. Friends who bring me flowers. Friends who always have time for a latte. Friends who share their joy in the purchase of a wedding dress. Friends who want to read what I write. Friends who share their worries. Friends who share their accomplishments. Friends who want to have lunch. Friends who share their lives. Friends whose lives add so much to the tapestry of my own life. Thank you, one and all, for making my life richer with your love, experiences, and most of all, your sharing with me your daily lives. I’m a very wealthy individual thanks to y’all.

MY EARLY VALENTINE

 

         

In six more days, it will be 58 years since John and I first met. We decided we were each other’s Valentine even though we didn’t do cards or candy that first Valentine’s Day. I did my usual grocery shopping today and there were all kinds of stuff that could be purchased as a Valentine gift for your honey. Me, myself and I debated as to which of us should be the Valentine this year and receive the gift and which of us should be the gifter. The final decision was to not purchase any of the items for any of us…sweet stuff just doesn’t appeal.

          I find it rather amazing that we met on February 13^th (58 years ago) married on August 13^th (57 years ago) and John died on August 12^th (3.5 years ago). It all seems sort of preordained somehow. I find myself wondering what the numbers will be when it’s time for me to join John wherever he is now.

Of course, I’m thinking about John all those years ago and how the attraction was immediate. I’d never felt that way about any boy/man in my entire life. Even the boy I went steady with for two years didn’t have that effect on me. Amazingly, that attraction never really left either one of us although there were times and events that certainly muted the feelings. As a matter of fact, those last few years were so hard, the loving feeling disappeared and didn’t return, at least for me, until John had been gone for over a year. Amazing how I can look back now and see what a bitch I was and what a real prick he was during that time. That’s when I wish I’d been kinder and much more patient with both of us.

You know how it is though, you don’t get a do-over. What’s done is done and cannot be changed. Today, looking back what I’m remembering is arriving at my friend’s house dressed in a blue skirt topped by a blue and white sweater. Of course, I was wearing a girdle and nylons…that was the dress code then.  When I stepped inside the door, I had to bend over to keep the dog from snagging my nylons. John was across the room and my view of him began with his shiny loafers, moved up khaki pants with a sharp crease, a thin belt and a short-sleeved, fresh from the cleaners, shirt. His brown hair was neatly combed, his face freshly shaved and his lips curved in a wonderful smile.

When I finally stood, our eyes met and there seemed to be a current that connected us. For me, it was love at first sight. I’m so very thankful we shared so many February 13^ths. Me, myself and I will raise a glass to our early Valentine come next Monday.

IT FINALLY ARRIVED

 

          Xander’s Christmas present finally arrived on February 2^nd, exactly two months from when it was ordered on December 2^nd. I was rather appalled at the flimsy product which weighed barely anything. I was able to turn it on, but didn’t try to make it fly. I also plugged it into the USB port so it would be fully charged and ready for Xander to play.

          Since Xander had had to wait so long for his Christmas present, I decided to make his receipt of the gift a bit more fun than just putting it into a bag with some tissue paper. First, I wrapped the box in which it arrived (surprised it hadn’t broken) in shiny paper. I put that box into another box, gift wrapped that and so on. I think all told I gift wrapped a total of five or six boxes each nestled in the previous one. I put a big ribbon around the last box and pasted all the Christmas bows I had on hand to the top. I’ve included a photo of the final box with Xander sitting beside it. He was surprised his gift was so big.

          At about the third box Xander wanted to know if I was tricking him to which I replied, “You had to wait so long for your present, Nana wanted you getting it to be very special.” When he finally got to the last box, even though he’d wanted to purchase it with Christmas money he’d received, he wasn’t sure what it was. Dad had to read the instructions and for a short time (a few minutes), the flare sphere worked pretty well. All the lights lit up, the little fans whirred and it floated about the room. Success.

          That success was short-lived. First the lights stopped working. Xander thought perhaps it needed to be plugged in again and went to do so. I left after a while and it hadn’t returned to working as it had initially.

          Today I sent Thor a text, “Is Xander’s toy still working?”

          “Yes and no. The light strip came unglued and we tried to glue it back. It came off again and got cut in half by the blades. Now it shocks you when it’s going.”

          “Yikes…a dangerous toy. Wish it was better after waiting for so long. Damn, damn, damn.”

          “It’s more fun now, ha ha.”

          “For you or for Xander?”

          “Me.”

          So, after all that, the Christmas gift was a bust. Oh well, at least Xander had fun opening all those packages, and Nana had fun wrapping and watching. Also included below is a not very well done video of Xander's first try with the flare sphere.

TO RIDE THE TRAIN

 

Dinae was a 15-year-old virgin. She never knew why they chose her to terrorize. She didn’t wear makeup, kept her long wavy hair pulled back into a clip at the base of her neck and wore baggy clothes that weren’t particularly fashionable. In the classrooms, she didn’t participate except when the teacher called on her, and then she kept her answers brief. She kept to herself and didn’t attempt to make friends…friendliness could be dangerous.

All Dinae wanted was to obtain a diploma from the loathsome high school she was forced to attend without getting caught up in one of the gangs or resort to drugs in order to get by the way her mother had not that many years ago. Dinae wanted a future far away from the disgusting neighborhood and dreadful people. So, she tried very hard to not stand out, tried to simply fade into the background.

Still, the scariest gang leader chose her. He bumped into her one morning on the way to class, and with the help of a couple of his members, pushed her against the lockers. He stank of cigarette and dope smoke, sweat and something sweet Dinea couldn’t identify. She wanted to gag as he rubbed his erection against her, squeezed one of her breasts and whispered in her ear, “Hey bitch, know you’s a virgin. Gonna pop that sweet cherry of yours. Oh, yes’m I shorely am. Bitch you gonna be our train ride.”

          For the rest of the week, every time the leader or one of the gang members saw her, they would grab their crotch with one hand, try to touch her with the other and tell her what they planned to do and how much they’d enjoy it just as soon as they got a chance. After the first couple of days, her breasts and nipples were so bruised and sore, Dinae took to carrying her backpack in her arms in front of her chest so they were protected.

          There was nothing she could really do about what was happening to her. The gangs, especially the one that was terrifying her, pretty much ran the school. Most of the staff weren’t very good and were justly afraid of the students they had to face each day. Dinae was sure they’d all stop working in that school if they had an actual choice.  Her mother wouldn’t be any help either because she’d given up years ago. She’d probably advise Dinae to just lay back and let it happen. Her only respite was to attempt to stay in crowded places as much as possible. Still, she knew that sooner or later, they’d find a way to get to her.

          After more than a week of intimidating, bullying, and terrifying her, the leader managed to cause a ruckus in the school hallway. He did it fairly close to a teacher, and in such a way that it appeared as though it was Dinae’s fault. As the teacher talked to her about her behavior and handed her a detention slip, he and his gang stood behind the teacher, silently laughing, grabbing their crotches, blowing kisses and sticking out their tongues.

          It was almost dusk when Dinae’s detention was completed. She hesitated at the exit doors. She looked around as carefully as was possible before she left the school and began to walk quickly toward home. She hadn’t gotten far before she was surrounded by five gang members. Her arms were grabbed and they hustled her down the street and across the asphalt playground toward an old empty portable. Halfway there, the leader said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Can’t wait to throw you down, rip them panties off and stuff my cock up your cunt.  When I’m done, you’re gonna pull train for the rest. Ya know what that is don’t ya? Getting’ fucked by each a us.” The other four laughed and made nasty comments about who would fuck her when.

          There was nothing she could do except go along and keep a tight hold on her backpack.  At least that protected her breasts from the hands that seemed to be all over the rest of her body. Once inside, and the door was closed, Dinae was released and she moved backwards until she felt the wall. The five boys formed a semi-circle around her.

          “Drop the backpack and git on the floor.” The leader ordered as he began to undo his pants. His erection popped free and he moved toward her with it in his hand. The others laughed, grabbed their own crotches, and encouraged him to hurry and take care of bidness.

          Dinae stood up straight, the hard wall against her back a comfort. “I said git down on the fuckin’ floor bitch. Do it or I’ll throw you down.”

He reached out to grab her backpack but halted mid-stride. There was a look of incredulity on his face. A red stain blossomed on his chest. As he fell to the floor, Dinae allowed her backpack to fall as well. In her hand was the gun it had concealed and with which she’d just shot her chief tormentor.

          The gunshot was followed by silence until Dinae’s quiet voice said, “Okay, who’s next?”

EXCUSES, EXCUSES

 

          There hasn’t been a blog post for a few days mainly because I wasn’t feeling very creative as in why would anyone want to read what I’m writing about anyway. My life is all so normal and ordinary, I just don’t see how it would be of interest to many folks at all.

          I’ve also been reading the first book I ever wrote back in the mid-90s. I was taking a class then and came up with the idea of a woman running for president and winning. It was called, THE CRADLE PARTY.

          At the time, I also attended the Pacific Northwest Writer’s Conference every year. The year I began this book, I made an appointment with both an agent and an editor. I put together a one-page synopsis of my book and was absolutely delighted to find the agent wanted to see the whole book which wasn’t finished. Important lesson learned, i.e., never submit a project until it’s completely finished.

          I labored for nine long months to bring this novel to fruition. Along the way I discovered some of my creations had minds, ideas and goals of their own which necessitated my changing mine. Unfortunately, when THE CRADLE PARTY was finished, the agent was no longer interested.

          The novel went to sleep in my bookcase. About ten years later, a group of women with whom I worked and book-clubbed wanted to read my novel. It was passed around and the general consensus was that I should update the novel and shop it around. My friends even went so far as to type my updated chapters for me because my carpel tunnel was so bad.

          Finished once again, I tried shopping it around and found no takers. Once again it went to languish in my bookcase. I've made jokes about how once I'm gone and the kids are cleaning up after me the AJ or Thor will say to the other, "Hey, here's mom's book. Did you ever read it?" This would be followed by the other one saying, "Nope, never did." which in turn would be followed by a "THUNK!!!" as it hit the dumpster.

         A friend who lives east of the mountains asked to read it a while ago. It took me some time, but I finally pulled it out and decided I would re-read it before I sent it off because I wasn’t going to have her send it back. It’s my only copy and what was computerized was on floppy discs which my computer will no longer read, not to mention the fact I think the program is WordPerfect which no longer exists either.

          I’m half-way through those five hundred plus pages and find myself thinking I did a fairly good job when it came to writing that novel. Unfortunately, so many of the “new” things in the book are no longer new but common every-day things like email and cell phones. I’m not sure I could update the entire novel and have it make total sense, besides which, we now have more women in office than ever before plus we’ve even had a woman run for president.

          There is supposedly a way to publish yourself through Amazon. Once my friend returns this book, maybe I’ll give an update a try. I have now written four books and it would be very pleasant to find a way to publish at least one of them. Perhaps I should stop spending hours reading other authors’ work and look to working on my own.

          Meanwhile, tomorrow’s post will be a short story I wrote for a contest. The main requirement was to submit something no longer than than fifteen hundred words. Mine was less than a thousand and I didn’t win. Still, I thought what I wrote, while rather depraved, was still well-written. What will you think tomorrow, I wonder.

DOWN MEMORY LANE

 

          Today, Sunday, was a very good day even though I didn’t get in line and get a Northlake Pizza. When I got there about 11:15, there were already more than fifty people waiting. So, memories will have to suffice.

          Kuma and I left there and drove around Lake Union to Stoneway. I couldn’t believe the traffic or the number of apartment/condo buildings. I thought about stopping at Ivar’s Salmon House and getting fish and chips at the outdoor fish bar, but decided I wasn’t that hungry.

          I went to Lincoln High School and nothing on Stoneway looked anything like it did back when I walked to school…yes, uphill both ways in pouring down rain. Now there are so many new apartment/condo buildings that hardly a single family home remains. We turned left on 45^th and headed east, stopping at Dick’s Drive-In.

          Back when I was in school, the cool kids parked their cars on the rise to the west…you can look down on all the activity below. Today, I was a cool kid because I pulled in and backed myself into the only space available. I didn’t even have to try or correct myself or anything. Nailed it on the first try. Whoa, was that a proud moment. Too bad some of those folks from sixty years ago weren’t on hand to applaud.

          Kuma and I shared two cheeseburgers and fries and when I slurped the last of my diet coke, Kuma knew what was coming and we’d only done it once before. He could hardly wait for me to take off the lid and offer up the ice. Once he’d gotten most of the ice, I added water from my water bottle and had to fill it up a second time.

          I thought it might be difficult to turn left out of Dick’s, but both directions were clear. I followed 45^th all the way through Wallingford and up under Highway 99 and then down the hill into Ballard. Again, nothing looked as it had when I was a kid or even a bit over a decade when I worked at the zoo. So many single family homes replaced by huge apartment/condo buildings with businesses on the bottom level. Where are all these people coming from?

          Kuma and I ended up at Golden Gardens, and again, I hadn’t been there in forever. It’s become this huge park with enough parking for I don’t know how many cars. As a kid, me and the boy next door would ride our bikes to Golden Gardens which wasn't the least bit developed. Yes, the breakwater was there for the marina, but really not much else. I almost always brought home a little crab I found in the sand. Of course, they always died and I'm very sorry now that I know just how good crab tastes. These days, you can access the sandy beach or park in an area that has a walkway on top of the breakwater. I drove through the whole thing and decided Kuma and I would practice his walking on a leash on the pathway…WRONG!!!

          We no more than got out of the car than Kuma began to bark and not in a nice way. He lunged on the leash while barking at the crows, other dogs and people as if he’d give them a new asshole if only I’d let go. I was embarrassed as well as annoyed with him. I don’t understand why he acted that way. When we go to the dog park and he’s off leash, he doesn’t dash about barking and threatening anyone. I’m going to talk to his trainer when we go to class on Wednesday and see if I can get some pointers.

          It was a beautiful Seattle day although a bit cold. I’ve included a couple photos I took at Golden Gardens. I just wish we could have walked for a bit since it was so gorgeous.

          From the park, I headed to my friend’s house. She said Kuma could come inside and like a good boy, he peed on command before we crossed the street and went inside. He was very well behaved although he really wanted to jump on my friend’s husband a lot. He was also very good with my friend’s dog, respectful and kind to the old guy.

          When I talked about Kuma’s behavior at the park, the suggestion was made to get a shock collar. Their daughter got one for her dog and it worked very well. I’m not sure I want to do that. I’m not sure it is humane. I’m sure there’s a way to educate Kuma to be a better doggie than he was today.

          Back home, I walked Kuma around the neighborhood on his leash and he did well…no distractions. Then we played ball until his tongue was hanging out. Now he’s sound asleep, curled up in his chair as I type this.

Since I didn’t get a pizza, I figured I’d order something delivered for my dinner. Instead, I took some barbequed ribs out of the freezer and put them in my convection oven for an hour. Then I added some small potatoes, removed the aluminum foil from the ribs and put it back in the oven for another thirty minutes. What I’m now smelling smells extremely good…hope it tastes that good as well.  The oven just beeped, so I think I'm about to find out.

MAKING NEW PLANS???

 

          Undoubtedly, you’re all waiting to hear how wonderful my Northlake Tavern small combination pizza was…well, wait no longer. As I posted my plan yesterday, I began calling just a bit before 11:00 am, opening time, and all I ever got whenever I gave it try was a, “…sorry, we’re busy….” message. I finally gave up.

          I also sent my friend that had waited three hours to get two medium (the only size being made) pizzas, but haven’t heard back from her either. I’d hoped to get some pointers about the best way to get my pizza. Their website says they open at noon on Sunday, so I’m playing with the idea of driving down there and arriving a bit before noon. If there’s a huge line of folks waiting, I’ll just go visit a friend instead. If there’s no line, I’ll get my pizza. I’m afraid, however, that my memories of the Northlake combination pizza will have to suffice.

          Not exactly sure what’s going on with me or if I’ve just realized how close to ninety seventy-seven is…only 13 years, but I’m using the phrase, “I like that, so why shouldn’t I have and/or do that?” What that means is that I’m looking at spending a bit more money on stuff or experiences for myself. That might not sound like too big a deal unless you know me well.

          As an example, I’ve had the same nighties for I don’t know how long. I’m sure I haven’t bought a new one in all the time I’ve been retired...well, maybe one. So, this past week, I ordered four brand new all cotton nighties in styles and colors that I like. True, there’s nothing really wrong with my old ones except I’ve had them forever and they are looking a bit well-used. They don’t have any rips or tears and none of them have gotten so thin you can see through them…like me, they’re just tired. There is a part of me that will celebrate when I put the clean old nighties in the Goodwill box and another part of me that will be chagrined at my wasteful ways. So far that’s my biggest splurge.

          The other thing I’ve been contemplating is getting out and about. There is so many places in the Northwest I have never been. A friend uses Expedition Tours which is located in Rochester WA for her trips, but most of those are lengthier trips. Right now they don’t have any lengthy trips listed, but they do have one-day trips. Since they’re located in Rochester, I’ve emailed to ask if I could meet them at the day’s location if it would be easier for me to get there from here rather than driving to the pick-up location. We’ll see what they say.

          I’ve also looked into another company that does tours that are more local. They appear to be small tours and go to a wide variety of places. The longest tours are ten to twelve hours and include Mt. Rainier, Mt. St. Helens and Victoria Canada. I’d definitely like to do the one to Mt. Rainier since I’ve never been to Paradise. I have been to Mt. St. Helens twice, but it would be fun to let someone else drive and most likely share information I don’t know. And John and I took the clipper to Victoria years ago, but it was winter, so not too fun. 

          For beginners, I think I’ll go to the Flower and Garden Show at the Convention Center which is mid-February. It’s too cold and potentially wet to do some of the other tours that would be available.

          The goal is, I think, to do something at least once each month that gives me a new experience. Sounds like a fairly simple goal doesn’t it, but we’ll see how I do.  It’s too bad I can’t have the January experience be the Northlake just one more time.