When I was a little girl my mother bought and planted an apple tree for me. It was small, but big enough to sit under. My mother would sit with me and sing "Don't sit under the apple tree with anyone else but me." I loved that apple tree.
But living in the suburbs in the early early '70's and coming from a family of 6 children has it's downfalls. My four older siblings are at least 5 years older than I am and the mass of children living in our neighborhood always seemed to congregate at our house, particularly on Summer evenings. It was a great time when kids left home after breakfast, reappearing occasionally to be fed, and didn't return until the lightening bugs and crickets took over the block.
Games like Kick the Can, Run Around the House, and Capture the Flag ruled their summer evenings. I was too little and invariably got in the way of the rambunctious youths. I was relegated to watching from the living room window.
Alas, it was during one of these Night Games (for that was the generic term for the summer evening's play) that my older sister, Guys (that's the name I called her!) ran into my beloved Apple Tree and leveled it to the ground.
I was very sad.
So, my mother in all her love and kindness replaced that apple tree. And on summer afternoons she would sit with me and sing our song. If there are memories that belong in a misty Hallmark Commercial, these are them. I even envision dandelion seeds blowing in the summer wind.
Sadly, the night games took their toll on my second apple tree. This one was not replaced.
So, for the past near 40 years I have been missing and wanting an apple tree.
AHA! Last summer we did a major landscaping project to remove all sorts of invasive trees and build the mighty retaining wall to hold up the hill. PERFECT! I get my apple tree! MY apple tree!
So, the lovely gardener man gets me the apple tree. Plants it about 10 feet from the street. I love my apple tree. Can't wait to see what it does this spring! Flowers! The imagined fruit! Ahhh, happiness!
Alas, the gods are not with me. There is a lot across the street from us that is filled with invasive trees and shrubs and generally looks scrubby. Or at least it did until the owner decided to clear it out. It's much more lovely now and it might even afford us a view of the nearby lake! But, in their efforts, one of the big big trucks backed up onto our land.... There is no curb so nothing to indicate he had overstepped his bounds,... the truck took out my beloved apple tree.
I will try again. However I will plant this tree. ME. Not some gardener dude. And it will not be near any street nor any running path nor anything that might hurt my last try.
I have yet to sing my song to either of my kids and perhaps it is too late. But, even if I have to hold their teenage bodies down (I still outweigh them!) I will sing to them. I will.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Friday, September 26, 2008
Just don't do it.
I have a few pet peeves.
Today's post: WINKING
Just don't do it.
It's not cute. It's not sexy. It's creepy. Just plain creepy.
Why is it that it is always people who are within about 15 years of my age? Do they think they are communicating something secret? If so, what? I missed that day in class.
Do we have a special connection? Your wink makes me want to retreat five steps. Ewww.
I never see the elderly doing it. Maybe they used to but can't anymore, or maybe they are more refined. 20 somethings don't do it. Well, at least not to me. I hope they don't do it to their peers. If they do, I hope they then jump off a pier.
A complete stranger at the health club-an employee- walked past me while I was talking to a trainer and she winked. "Oh, honey, aren't you good for talking with a trainer" or maybe... "Sweetie, you should really work out more" or "Hey there... " or whatever. I have no tolerance for winking.
It gets my blood rolling. It really does.
Today's post: WINKING
Just don't do it.
It's not cute. It's not sexy. It's creepy. Just plain creepy.
Why is it that it is always people who are within about 15 years of my age? Do they think they are communicating something secret? If so, what? I missed that day in class.
Do we have a special connection? Your wink makes me want to retreat five steps. Ewww.
I never see the elderly doing it. Maybe they used to but can't anymore, or maybe they are more refined. 20 somethings don't do it. Well, at least not to me. I hope they don't do it to their peers. If they do, I hope they then jump off a pier.
A complete stranger at the health club-an employee- walked past me while I was talking to a trainer and she winked. "Oh, honey, aren't you good for talking with a trainer" or maybe... "Sweetie, you should really work out more" or "Hey there... " or whatever. I have no tolerance for winking.
It gets my blood rolling. It really does.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Well howdy
I am an awful Blogger. I admit. I just wonder what in the world would be interesting to y'all. Whoever y'all might be.
Anyhew, the previous post referred to three words DH used to describe me. I wasn't happy nor was I in a good place after that.
MOVING ON>
It's finally summer here in the Twin Cities. 80 degrees. Yummy.
We have a house being built next to us and we are quickly closing in on the end of the second year of construction. I'll be so lonely when all the worker men leave.... NOT!
I haven't been able to get into my driveway all day (it's shared with the house they are building) It's either the cement truck or some other kind of vehicle blocking. Sigh... So done with that.
So since the weather is fabulous I've decided to paint Blue's room! HUH? Yeah, I'm ill. But Blue is at camp for two weeks and It's a good time to get it done without displacing her too much.
So, tonight I'm keeping away from the sauce (wine is the choice) and just painting. Gecko is sick with a fever so I'll plop him in front of the TV for a while.
And if I get a goodly portion done tonight I'll enjoy tomorrow's weather and garden. Did I mention DH volunteered our house to host a cocktail party for this fancy schmancy golf course tournament? I think I'll have to hire gardening help to make this joint acceptable to the high and mighty. <> If the damn weeds would stay down.
Until later
Anyhew, the previous post referred to three words DH used to describe me. I wasn't happy nor was I in a good place after that.
MOVING ON>
It's finally summer here in the Twin Cities. 80 degrees. Yummy.
We have a house being built next to us and we are quickly closing in on the end of the second year of construction. I'll be so lonely when all the worker men leave.... NOT!
I haven't been able to get into my driveway all day (it's shared with the house they are building) It's either the cement truck or some other kind of vehicle blocking. Sigh... So done with that.
So since the weather is fabulous I've decided to paint Blue's room! HUH? Yeah, I'm ill. But Blue is at camp for two weeks and It's a good time to get it done without displacing her too much.
So, tonight I'm keeping away from the sauce (wine is the choice) and just painting. Gecko is sick with a fever so I'll plop him in front of the TV for a while.
And if I get a goodly portion done tonight I'll enjoy tomorrow's weather and garden. Did I mention DH volunteered our house to host a cocktail party for this fancy schmancy golf course tournament? I think I'll have to hire gardening help to make this joint acceptable to the high and mighty. <
Until later
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Saturday, November 17, 2007
College Dreamin'
I had a lovely day. I got to see a college friend I haven't seen in almost 10 years. She just happened to come to town with her hub on biznez. I drove out to Hudson and liberated her from the clutches of the football and golf playin' hub and his friend (Yes, they played golf in 40 degree weather on a closed course.... Whatever!)
She came with me to Blue's hockey game (they won) and then came back to my place to reminisce.
We talked about the boys we had crushes on and the people we used to know and who had kids and all that. About how the campus had changed (They now have a huge fence around a particular housing area to keep the nasty ickies out.) I said that I don't remember ever feeling unsafe there... and this is in Big City East Coast college place. The world has changed.
So we go to dinner at a RoadHouse. It was NOT easy to find. You can't see it from the highway even though it is on the highway. It's below grade. Creepy road to get there. You drive down a dilapidated road to a dead end and there is a log cabin looking roadhouse with a TON of cars. Oh, great, I'm thinking. Last exit to Hell.
But when we walk in, the place is PACKED. Like college bar packed. But it ain't bikers and thugs, but rather well-turned-out 40+ year olds. Drinking cosmos and Vodka and fancy beer. Whoda thunk?
But despite having a 7 o'clock reservation (They TAKE reservations??) we had to wait. It's so packed you spend the entire time moving out of the way of this or that waiter and this or that patron. Finally I decide to get a beer. I had noticed the rather tall man in the red leather jacket enter... I don't know if I thought he was cute or not, but I did notice him. I'm trying to get a beer when red leather coat guy looks me up and down. Hey, I still got it, I think. He then tries to talk to me. Drunk as a skunk. What I first thought was an admiring glance has become a creepy leer. I try a different part of the bar and get my beer. My friends tell me he has been eyeing me up and down. But then he sees my wedding ring and, well, he swore up and down.
Interesting how fast an admiring glance can become a creepy leer.
Well, I sent college friend off with her hub and friends to go dancing. I went home to my soon to be 10 year old gecko. Sweet boy.
She came with me to Blue's hockey game (they won) and then came back to my place to reminisce.
We talked about the boys we had crushes on and the people we used to know and who had kids and all that. About how the campus had changed (They now have a huge fence around a particular housing area to keep the nasty ickies out.) I said that I don't remember ever feeling unsafe there... and this is in Big City East Coast college place. The world has changed.
So we go to dinner at a RoadHouse. It was NOT easy to find. You can't see it from the highway even though it is on the highway. It's below grade. Creepy road to get there. You drive down a dilapidated road to a dead end and there is a log cabin looking roadhouse with a TON of cars. Oh, great, I'm thinking. Last exit to Hell.
But when we walk in, the place is PACKED. Like college bar packed. But it ain't bikers and thugs, but rather well-turned-out 40+ year olds. Drinking cosmos and Vodka and fancy beer. Whoda thunk?
But despite having a 7 o'clock reservation (They TAKE reservations??) we had to wait. It's so packed you spend the entire time moving out of the way of this or that waiter and this or that patron. Finally I decide to get a beer. I had noticed the rather tall man in the red leather jacket enter... I don't know if I thought he was cute or not, but I did notice him. I'm trying to get a beer when red leather coat guy looks me up and down. Hey, I still got it, I think. He then tries to talk to me. Drunk as a skunk. What I first thought was an admiring glance has become a creepy leer. I try a different part of the bar and get my beer. My friends tell me he has been eyeing me up and down. But then he sees my wedding ring and, well, he swore up and down.
Interesting how fast an admiring glance can become a creepy leer.
Well, I sent college friend off with her hub and friends to go dancing. I went home to my soon to be 10 year old gecko. Sweet boy.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Pet Peeve
A first on occasional rants on pet peeves.
1) NO TALKING TO STRANGERS IN THE LOCKER ROOM!
So I'm done with the tennis match. I've sweated up a storm. I smell. I need a shave. I shower up. I'm happily hunkering down on the bench to dry off and get dressed.
Lady #1 wanders over. Looks up and down at the lockers. I'm clutching a towel over my naughty bits. I try to keep getting dry and dressed, but there is an invasion of personal space. In a locker room this is anything closer than about 5 feet. 4 feet if all parties are dressed. Lady starts to talk.
"Are these the lockers?" she asks? I want to say, no, they are the weight benches or the platypuses or something clever. "Uh huh" I answer, all the while averting my eyes.
"Are they free?"
(shit lady, I'm naked here!) "The one's with the keys are."
"How do they work?"
I grip the towel tightly in my armpit. Open the locker and show her how it works.
"oh, that's cool" and she wanders away.
So, I continue to get dressed. I'm in my jeans and bra. I really prefer to have my Love Handles covered up in public, but Noooooo, Lady #2 has to come on over.
The bench is about 4 feet long. There is only one. She HAS to sit down next to me and start talking about the bench. "won't it be nice when there are more benches?" "Aren't these locker rooms nice?" "Do you play tennis?" (No, lady, the racket is for the bats in the locker room!) I want to scream!
I grunt a few affirmatives and slam the locker and huff off to dry my hair. Hopefully NO one will talk to me there. At least the dryer gives me a chance to feign deafness.
phew, that's off my chest.
1) NO TALKING TO STRANGERS IN THE LOCKER ROOM!
So I'm done with the tennis match. I've sweated up a storm. I smell. I need a shave. I shower up. I'm happily hunkering down on the bench to dry off and get dressed.
Lady #1 wanders over. Looks up and down at the lockers. I'm clutching a towel over my naughty bits. I try to keep getting dry and dressed, but there is an invasion of personal space. In a locker room this is anything closer than about 5 feet. 4 feet if all parties are dressed. Lady starts to talk.
"Are these the lockers?" she asks? I want to say, no, they are the weight benches or the platypuses or something clever. "Uh huh" I answer, all the while averting my eyes.
"Are they free?"
(shit lady, I'm naked here!) "The one's with the keys are."
"How do they work?"
I grip the towel tightly in my armpit. Open the locker and show her how it works.
"oh, that's cool" and she wanders away.
So, I continue to get dressed. I'm in my jeans and bra. I really prefer to have my Love Handles covered up in public, but Noooooo, Lady #2 has to come on over.
The bench is about 4 feet long. There is only one. She HAS to sit down next to me and start talking about the bench. "won't it be nice when there are more benches?" "Aren't these locker rooms nice?" "Do you play tennis?" (No, lady, the racket is for the bats in the locker room!) I want to scream!
I grunt a few affirmatives and slam the locker and huff off to dry my hair. Hopefully NO one will talk to me there. At least the dryer gives me a chance to feign deafness.
phew, that's off my chest.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
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