Am I Seeing Things?

Steve is going to be the target of this blog post.  I think this makes the second time I've picked on him now; but, sometimes he makes it too easy!

He related a story the other night that I will get to in a bit that reminded me of the trip that we took to Oklahoma City about 7 or 8 years ago now!  I had to go to Oklahoma City to work the tradeshow booth for SMART Software at the Oklahoma Sheriff's Convention.  I was driving and invited Steve along to keep me company on the drive and do some sightseeing while we were there.  On the drive to Oklahoma City, we got to witness a meteor shower.  On the way home, we were probably somewhere between Kansas City and Des Moines and Steve said, "Did you see those fireworks?"  I said, "No."  A little while later, Steve said, "Did you see THOSE fireworks?"  I said, "No."  It took me a little while to figure out that the fireworks that Steve was seeing was the reflection of the lights on the signs located on the overpasses.  As I'd drive by, the darkened signs did kind of shimmer from the reflection!  LOL!

Which leads me to the recent story.  Steve prefaced his story with "I can't believe that I'm even going to tell you this!"  He rode with Jim & Cindy to Minocqua, WI last week.  He spent the night at Cindy & Jim's the night before they left.  He was sleeping back in the sun room and couldn't get comfortable so he got up to change places.  He SAYS he didn't have his glasses on; but, when he looked out the window toward the pond there was a really bright light and he could not figure out what it was.  So, he put his glasses on and realized then that it was the moon!  He never said what he was drinking before he went to bed!  LOL!

Thanks for being so entertaining, Steve!

Happy Trails to You ? Nope.

Growing up in Sherwood Park was great. It afforded us a place to play by the river and a large area of woods. It was a much different neighborhood than our friends' that grew up in Castle Hill. We, of course, had the spring floods that - at that time - were great. It gave us time off school and we played in the water. It was also an area where we had a range of animals from dogs to cows and, yes, even horses.

Our family lived at 109 Greenview Drive. We had a huge yard that supported many events such as basketball, baseball, football, and many other types of games. We were surrounded by wooded lots. But, across the road was a cement block building that was turned into a horse stable. The Thomson's moved several horses onto the property. Now, I was a big fan of the TV cowboy era. Roy Rogers, The Lone Ranger, Gunsmoke and all of the other shows. So my plan was to hang out in the corner of our yard that was closest to the horse barn. Maybe I would get an invitation to come for a visit.

It was a warm summer day and it was my task for the day (and it took a day) to cut the grass in our yard. It suddenly came to me that I could take all the grass clippings and make snack size bales of hay for the horses! I found an old metal lunch box in the basement. I crammed the grass into the box and ta-da mini-bales! I made about a dozen bales and waited for Merle to show up. It was an hour or so and there he was. So I took over a couple of bales and asked Merle if he could use some hay. He was so nice he said he would take them; but, they would have to dry out a bit before he could use them. He asked me if I would like to help him in the barn. I told him I would have to ask Mom if it was okay. So I ran back to the house and asked Mom if I could help Merle over at the horse barn. She said it was okay but I could not ride the horses. Damn... that was as bad as the old "you could shoot your eye out" ploy.

So what was my job to be at the horse barn? Yep, you guessed it... scoop the poop and help feed the horses. These chores carried on for several weeks. Merle said, "Tom, you have really been helpful here. How would you like to ride one of the horses today?" All right!  Hi Ho Silver! I'm hittin' the dusty trail! I told Merle I would have to ask Mom and I would be right back. I ran so fast that my Keds shoes nearly melted. Out of breath I told Mom that Merle asked if I would like to ride one of the horses. She said. "NO" and not to ask again. Oh no... how was I going to get to Dodge City? The Lone Ranger would be waiting on the outskirts of town for me and all I could ride to meet him was a STICK. Dejected, I went back and told Merle that I couldn't ride the horse because Mom said no. I kept on helping Merle and working Mom with several schemes like "Look at this Mom! Trigger just saved Roy Rogers!  You have to see this, quick!" Surely this would show her how noble a horse really is and I would be just fine riding one of them. Still the answer was NO.

It was a Saturday morning and Mom said that she and Dad were going to Cedar Rapids and that I was to hang around the house. This was one time I would be home alone. I don't remember where everyone else was that day but that was okay. Mom and Dad loaded up and went down the road. Perfect!  I went across the road and told Merle, "Hey, let's saddle up one of the horses for me to ride. My dad said it was alright!" There was a horse that reminded me of Champion, Gene Autry's horse. So I mounted up and headed out to the Plains - better known as the pasture. The pasture was about 100 yards long and ran along side our road. I was riding down the path and I looked to my right and there was Mom and Dad riding along side me. I got "the look" and Dad pointed sternly. I knew that meant to get off the horse and come home NOW. I thanked Merle and walked as slow as I could home hoping that time would stand still and cooler heads would prevail. Would the Lone Ranger's dad punish him for riding a horse? Would Roy Rogers' dad tan his hide for riding a horse? Well mine did! After that little experience I didn't even want to ride the merry-go-round. My rear end was as red as a western sunset. Saddle sore had a whole new meaning. So I wasn't singing Happy Trails.

A Lesson in Civics

This is another guest spot from Tom.  This story is about my lesson on Civics, painful as it was!  This took place toward the mid year of 6th grade at Castle Hill school. (Castle Hill, yes that's the school for me.  I'm proud and glad to give it my loyalty.  So dear Castle Hill, best school in Waterloo, I promise to be faithful ever more to you... OK, stop singing the Castle Hill song.)    

It was a Friday after school and I wanted to go over to a friend's house.  But first maybe I should go back to part of my day in school.  It was in Mrs. Woodward's class and I don't remember just how we got on to the subject of freedom of speech; but, Mrs. Woodward tried to explain how we all enjoyed the freedom of speech.  Wow I thought that was neat and it stuck in my memory.  You go to school to learn and be able to exercise your the newly discovered information. These moments make your parents proud... usually.

Now back to unfold my lesson on Civics.  I was changing out of my school clothes to go over to a friend's house to play out in the woods of Sherwood Park.  Mom asked where I thought I was going and I told her I was going over to Ray Moses' house.  Mom told me that I could not go because we (the family) were going to do something later.  Well that didn't sit well with me so I argued my point with Mom.  Still the answer was "no."  I begged and promised to be back before we had to leave.  Still, I heard "NO."  So, I just walked out and started to head out to Ray's house.  Seemed simple.  Mom was on the porch telling me I better not leave.  I continued to plead my case and Mom told me to shut up and get in the house.  OK, Mrs. Woodward's speech on freedom of speech rushed into my brain!  I was about to exercise my constitutional right!  WRONG!  Damn, I wish Mrs. Woodward would have told me about the right to remain silent.  Too late, Little Patriot.  So, I yelled back, "I don't have to shut up. I have the freedom of speech," and I just kept walking to Ray's house. I got there and Ray's mom told me Ray couldn't come out and I was to go right home.

It was a long, slow, reflective walk home.  I thought to myself,  "What is my fate going to be?"  Surely I was going to be safe.  I had only invoked my Constitutional right.  I still had the feeling that I was a dead man walking.  Mom didn't say anything to me when I came into the house.  This was like a new power!  What other rights did I have that I could use to my advantage?!

The thing I didn't think about was what Dad's reaction would be to the Constitutional debate.  Dad got home and we entered into a pretty one-sided debate.  It was then that I found out I didn't have the freedom of speech; nor, did I have the ability to sit for a while.  Once more a painful end.  Why didn't they have a time out back in those days?  So, to my nephews and nieces, if you need any Constitutional advice on your rights, feel free to drop me a line!
 

PEEP a Story of Cause and Effect

To start,  I am Tom, your guest host for this edition of My Funny Family. I am number two in the sibling order of the eight; or, for the Star Trek people 2 of 8. I am the formerly displaced Iowan that successfully escaped Florida. I retired and am embarking on a new career with the Ford Motor company. Well enough of my intro.

Growing up with eight brothers and sisters you had to have a sense of humor. We all have the Schell humor gene and I always felt I got maybe a little more of Dad's sense of humor. That was fun most of the time but it had some drawbacks that weren't fun at times. The following story is one of the many events of our life in a larger family unit. None of the names will be changed to protect anybody...  enjoy!


Let's start with our cast of players:

• Bill Schell, the Father and administrator of discipline
• Steve, the villain of this story. 
• Tim and Mike, minor roles and not so innocent bystanders. 
• And, Tom, the victim.

It was getting late in the evening and time for bed because it was a school night. Mom and Dad would start with "It's time for bed " or "Get back to bed it's late". That was our cue to go to the back bedrooms. All four boys in one room; and, at the time, Cindy in her room. The three youngest girls were not members of our cast as of yet.

Now having four boys in one room was a matter of necessity and at times a point of fun or conflict. We were in our room and talking and cutting up. We got a little loud and Dad made his first trip back in his role as the enforcer. We heard the floorboards creek and Dad poked his head in the room and he said "Shut up and go to bed it's late." So we shut up and went to bed......right. We were quiet for a while but the noise level built to a level that warranted a second, more stern warning. There went the floorboards again and this time the door was open all the way. Dad said, "Shut up and go to sleep and don't make me come back here again. I mean it."  OK we had better settle down and get to sleep... yeah right.  There we went again laughing and being boys. Nothing wrong with that... wrong again!  This time the floorboards had kind of a snap to them!  The door opened and this time Dad came in the room and we all got the "look" and the warning of impending pain.  He said, "If I come back here one more time, I'm bringing the belt.  Now get to bed!"  OK nuff said... RIGHT.  We shut up and all laid down for a couple of minutes.  There was just too much that had gone on during the day and we had to get our briefing to each other done.  Our volume buttons started to crank up and the floorboards sounded once more... damn!  There was Dad in the doorway with a stone face but thankfully no belt.  Dad was done with these trips and he said those fateful words, "If I come back here one more time, I am bringing the belt. I don't want to hear one more PEEP out of you.  Go to bed!"  Then it happened!  What possessed Steve to mutter that fateful word?  Why did he say it?  Why did he say the word "PEEP" for Dad to hear?  He wasn't that far out of the room.  He stopped and turned and there he was.  He had drawn his line in the sand and we  had crossed it.

Now I was the one with the quick comeback most of the time.  Mr. Independent.  Push the envelope a little.  But this time I was not the culprit.  Believe or not, I was innocent.  Really!

Dad came back and grabbed ME and delivered on his promise (no belt though).  It was as if time slowed down.  It was like one of those Sam Peckinpah films.  It seemed to be minutes instead of seconds.  I got a good old fashioned 1950's ass paddling.  I cried out, "It wasn't me.  It wasn't me!!!"  No chance... momentum had taken over.  Dad was on his mission to deal out the punishment.  I looked over and saw Tim and Mike in the corner of their bunk beds. Their mouths wide open and their eyes were as big as saucers.  You could feel their empathy for my plight.  Finally, it was over.  Dad's iron grip on my arm was released.  He said, "GO TO BED NOW!!"

Well we shut up and shuddered in fear.  Not much was said.  But then the hockey player decided to come out to exact a little justice.  With tears still in my eyes, I jumped out of my bed and started pushing Steve and asked, "Why?!" Whoops!   There was Dad again!  He grabbed me again and said, "I guess you didn't have enough the first time right?" Ass paddling Part 2 was in full effect and it was a  bit harder this time.  I could tell Tim and Mike were hoping "Please spare him, Lord."  They were wrapping themselves in their blankets thinking this may somehow discourage Dad from doling out more punishment if he had to unwrap them from their package.

If this had taken place today, it would have been a kinder and gentler form of punishment.  It would have been more of a negotiation.  First, Dad would have come back with, "I'm going to count to three. 1-2-3."  If a second trip was needed, it would have been the Timeout.  This is where I would be given a chance to go off to a designated place and reflect on my behavior.  Then comeback to talk about my behavior and apologize.  Then if I had crossed the line, I would have gotten the "This is going to hurt me more than you" line with a quick swat one time with the finger point and "Now behave."  I know I can hear you, Dad, "YEAH RIGHT. HA!"

So now it is in black and white for all to read.  The healing process can now begin.  This is easier than going on Dr.Phil.  So go out there and don't spare the rod and spoil the child.  There should be a cause and effect.  It has not diminished my love of family.  So, Steve, I forgive you, but I still owe you a PEEP.

Oh Lord!

Things just seem to happen to me.  I’ve had a shoulder problem going on for a little while now and have been going to physical therapy.  Things just don’t seem to be healing quickly enough for me so I decided to throw a chiropractor into the mix.  My brother had a similar problem and said that his chiropractor helped him.  Well… what the heck?  I thought that I’d give it a shot.  What could it hurt?  I checked with a couple of my family members and made an appointment with the same chiropractor that at least three people in my family go to.  They all said that he does a great job.

Mind you… I’ve never been to a chiropractor before and I cannot stand it when my kids pop their knuckles.  Maybe that could be because I sat in the room with my youngest daughter when she was five years old on a follow-up appointment after she had broken her arm.  They took the cast off and checked it.  The doctor told me that her bone was healing incorrectly and they were going to have to re-break her arm.  I figured that we’d make a follow-up appointment to come back for that procedure.  I was not prepared for him to walk back across the room, take her forearm with his bare hands and break it.  I will NEVER forget that sound.  Got to hand it to her… she was a trooper.  One little tear ran down her cheek. 

Last night I was a little worried about my trip to the chiropractor.  I’m not a fan of pain and I didn’t figure that there was any way that I would be able to relax enough for this to work.

I drove through a horrible snowstorm and slick streets to get to the chiropractor.  I walked into the office – which is a little older – but not too bad.  He escorted me back to the examination room.  We talked a bit.  I told him that I had my x-rays from the hospital from a few weeks ago if he wanted to see them.  He did.  He couldn’t get them to come up on his laptop.  He had to take them to his partner’s office to view them.  He came back and explained to me that there were four areas that needed some adjusting and then he explained to me how the process works.

He started off by performing a vibrating massage on my back and upper arms.  Then my back had to rest a bit before he was going to make the adjustments needed.  I heard a beep and then heard him say, “My daily scripture,” and then he proceeded to read the daily scripture.  I was lying face down on the table and was not expecting this.  I was glad that I was face down because I’m sure that I had a surprised look on my face.

When I got done at the chiropractor, I called my sister.  Our conversation went something like this:

Sister:    Hello?

Me:        Hey, I just got done at the chiropractor.

Sister:    How’d it go?

Me:        It went well; however, you failed to prepare me for my daily scripture reading… (chuckle)

Sister:    Are you kidding me?

Me:        Could I make this stuff up?

Sister:    (Laughing hysterically) He’s never done that with me!

I talked to my brother and informed him that I went to his chiropractor and also received my daily scripture.  He chuckled!  He said that he’s never read him scripture; but, he has read to his wife before.

I talked to my sister whose husband also goes to the same chiropractor.  She got a kick out of this happening to me also.  She asked her husband.  He had never received that service either.  However, his smart alec comment was, “I guess he knows who needs it!” 

On that note, I guess I’ll have to agree.  I will go back because my shoulder is already feeling a bit better tonight already.

What's That I Hear?

Tonight I left work late… it was dark out.  I put my bag in the back seat and I thought that I heard someone say my name and it sounded like they were REALLY close! It gave me chills.  I turned around slowly and no one was there and there wasn’t anyone in the parking lot either.  I was dumbfounded.  I could have sworn that someone said my name!  I stood there for a minute and then realized that I had one of those darn Staples Easy buttons in my bag.  When I set my bag down it pushed the button and it said “That was easy.”  Evidently, the end of the word “easy” sounds to me like my name!  I got in my car and laughed at myself!

Then there was the time that I was working late in the office on a proposal.  It was winter and it was dark out.  I was running back and forth between the printer up front and the conference room in the back picking up items that I needed to bind.  There was a large window up front by the printer.  On one of my trips up to the printer, I noticed my oldest sister outside the window looking in at me.  (This was during the time that we were taking care of my mother.)  I figured that she had just run downtown to pick something up for supper.  I waved at her and she waved at me at the same time.  And then I thought to myself, “Why doesn’t she have a coat on?  It’s freezing out!”  Right after that was about the time that I realized that I had waved at my own reflection.  I died laughing!  There was a bar directly across the street with windows that faced our office.  I wonder if anyone saw me and wondered what the heck I was doing!

I thought it was hilarious that I thought that my own reflection was my oldest sister.  (I guess we do look alike!)  So, I told my family about my stupidity!  It’s really funny how things work out.  My sister called her husband and was going to tell him about my idiocy.  She called him.  She “says” he answered the phone.  Then she started telling him the story and then I was on the phone mimicking her.  She figured that she must have called my cell phone by mistake.  I mimicked her a couple of times, until she figured out that she hadn’t called me but was getting feedback of herself through her phone!  (We sound alike too!)  Either that was a really strange coincidence, or “someone” was playing a trick on us... Dad?!  ;0)

Fond Childhood Memories?

Recently, I went to an orthopedic surgeon for a consultation.  I will preface this by saying that I have always had a disconnected collar bone and every time I have x-rays taken they bring up the fact that I have a fractured collarbone.  This is a hereditary thing. I have two brothers and a niece that also have the same condition.

Now this particular day, I was sitting in the doctor’s office and I guess that he did not want to accept the fact that I was born that way.  He asked me if I could ever remember falling hard.  My response to the doctor was “No.”  Later that afternoon I got thinking about that question and came up with the time that:

• I was knocked off of the top of the 10’ slide while at playground.
• My brother talked me into curling up on the inside of the tire swing so that his friend could swing me around by the tail of the rope really fast and then slammed me into the side of the tree (by accident – I’m sure).
•  I rode my little sister’s brand new light-weight banana seat bike (with a sissy bar) up and down the road that had just had new rock laid.  I lost control and hit a tree knocked myself out and banged up the new bike pretty good.
•  I was in high school and totaled my boyfriend’s Volkswagen bug when a lady turned in front of me.  I hit my head on the windshield, the passenger seat came detached and gave me a beating, the back seat flipped out and the battery that was under it flipped over.  (I don’t suggest having an accident with a 70’s Volkswagen bug!)

Those were just some of the minor injuries that every kid experiences growing up, right?  Then there other childhood memories like the time:

• When I was four and my sister talked me into putting the temple of my head on the corner of a wooden desk telling me that I’d be able to hear the train coming down the tracks (we lived on a dead end road and the tracks were at the end of our road).  When I got my head placed just right, she smacked me and punctured a hole in my head.  I didn’t even realize that I was bleeding until I went to the living room and my dad saw me!  Evidently, it didn’t hurt – that is until I saw all of the blood!!  LOL!!
• I jumped off of the bed and my kneecap landed on the corner of the metal dollhouse puncturing a hole in my knee.  I wonder if that’s why Dad made us a three-story corrugated doll house after that complete with corrugated chairs, beds and dressers!
• The time I stepped barefoot on a piece of paper that had floated out of our little bonfire and blistered the entire bottom of my foot.
•  I also considered myself a tenderfoot.  I was not good at walking on the rocks in the driveway barefoot.  Remember before I mentioned that the railroad tracks were at the end of our road?  When the circus would come to town, the train would run on those tracks and we’d run to the end of the road to wave at the people on the train.  One particular time, I didn’t have enough notice that the train was coming and I didn’t have enough time to put on my shoes.  My little sister and I (gingerly) ran down the road barefoot to see the train.  There was a family that had moved into one of the houses at the end of the road not too long before that and they had two Doberman pinchers.  My sister and I were waving at the train and I heard barking and I ran home leaving my little sister to be eaten by the dogs!  I don’t think I felt a single rock touch my feet on the way home.  I must have been flying!  I remember getting to our driveway and looking back and she was running back and forth across the road with the dogs chasing her until the owners came out and called them off!
• She should have learned her lesson that I am not a protector when it comes to dogs!  We lived in a neighborhood that had a lot of people’s dogs running wild.  We referred to the neighborhood that we grew up as having an “end with the mean dogs.”  Usually, if I was going to ride my bike anywhere, I would go out of the neighborhood at the end that didn’t have “the mean dogs.”  One day she and I were riding at the wrong end of the neighborhood for some reason or another.  I was on my older sister’s 10-speed (with the curly handle bars) and my little sister was on one of our single-speed bikes.  A pack of dogs (it seemed like a pack at the time – probably three dogs) started running after us, I shifted the bike into high gear and hightailed it out of there.  I'm sure that I could have given Lance Armstrong a run for his money!  Again, I remember looking back and she was surrounded by the dogs.  I’m still not sure how she got away unscathed.
• As long as we’re on dog stories… there was also the time that I rode my bike to McDonald’s and grabbed a fish sandwich.  I was in a hurry to get home; so, instead of staying there to eat my sandwich, I decided to just eat when I got home.  Instead of going the long way around to get home, I decided to chance riding through the “dog end” of the neighborhood.  Needless to say, I never did get to eat my sandwich.  I sacrificed it to, Ralph, the German shepherd that was chasing me!  I figured better my sandwich than my leg!

Those are just a few of the things that happened during my childhood.  I just think of my poor mom and dad… my incidents were minor and I’m certain that they weren’t aware of everything that all eight of us were up to.  There are some funny stories that don’t involve me but involve my siblings.  I’ll save those for some other ice stormy day!

Who's On First

Sorry, Steve... you're my first "victim!"

Mom & Aaryn

Our mother passed away in 2007.  She had a debilitating stroke a few years earlier.  She was in a nursing home for a while; however, she didn't like it there and we felt that we were really doing most of the work taking care of her ourselves so we moved her back to her house and took care of her there with less intrusion and she was a lot happier.  Nothing against the nursing home folks, they were great; but, it was just a lot more fun being at home.  When she was in the nursing home four of us took care of  her in shifts.  We just kept up the shifts when we moved her home.  My oldest brother had the weekday early morning shift feeding her breakfast and taking care of her until noonish.  Then my oldest sister got off work and fed her lunch and took care of her until either my older sister or I would get there to feed her supper and stay with her until she went to sleep.  My oldest sister (who actually lives about an hour away) stayed in town at Mom's all week and usually stuck around in the evening also and then would go home on the weekend and my older sister and I would alternate staying at Mom's house all weekend.

We had so much fun - especially late on Sunday nights when it was Silent Movie Sunday on one of the cable channels and Cindy and I would make up our own lines for the movies!  We'd crack her up!  Mom might not have been able to talk; but, she sure could laugh!

I know... I know... you're thinking what could possibly be funny about this?!!  Well, give me a minute and I'll get there.

Groucho

I was pretty entertaining to my mom.  Sometimes I almost felt like all I had to do was walk in the door and she was laughing at me!  (Remember in my first blog post I mentioned that laughter is the best medicine.  One thing that she kept right up to the very end was her sense of humor!)  I grabbed lunch one afternoon and stopped up at Mom's and was sitting with her entertaining her with some stories when I noticed that she had a goofy look on her face and her expression wasn't changing.  I was in the bathroom with her and Steve was in the living room.  I yelled for Steve to call 911.  Poor Steve has NEVER had to call 911 for anything before.  I don't remember if we had a land line telephone in her house at that time or not; but, Steve was using his cell phone.  I got a wash cloth and was trying to get her to respond.  Steve popped into the doorway and said frantically, "What do I dial?!" My response was, "9-1-1."  Now, I'm in the bathroom - freaking out - still trying to get her to respond.  Steve shows back up in the doorway with the phone to his ear and says, "What's the number?!"  I'm thinking - "It's only three numbers and two of them are the same.  What isn't he getting?!!  So, I respond more slowly (and probably irritatedly) "9---1---1!"  Then he said, "No... the house number!"  I think that he ended up going outside and looking at the front of the house.

Now, in Steve's defense, he did have to relay a message to me from the 911 operator to calm down before I hyperventilated!!  LOL!

(Taking Steve home one night after that, I told him that I realized why he bought the house he did.  All four numbers in his address are the same number - that ought to be easy for him to remember!)

Anyway... In the meantime, I had called Cindy and she flew to Mom's from work - beating the paramedics.  Then all of the paramedics showed up and that tiny house was FULL!

They transported her to the hospital and worked some magic and she started to respond.  The first thing I told her about when she was a little more with it was Steve's and my version of "Who's on First!"  I'm sure the hospital staff thought that we were crazy all cackling in the emergency room!  I can still hear her laughing about it!

I love the Canon of St. Paul's Cathedral.  The last part is:http://bit.ly/Up0ZYJThe last part is:

Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

When we're all get together again, the people on Earth will probably hear us howling with laughter from above! I hope it's from above anyway!!  ;0)

http://bit.ly/Up0ZYJ

Let's Get This Party Started

Ah... Yes... My Funny Family...
My brother started a blog about his genealogy research that he's been doing and mentioned in one of this posts that I could have an entire blog about one trip that we took together along with one of my sisters.  And, I got thinking that he's probably right.  I made updates via Facebook when we were on our trip; but, if I would have had a blog started it would have been hilarious!

I have to tell you that I grew up in a large family with eight kids (I'm Kid #7) plus two parents all in a three bedroom house (no pets).  Maybe we were a little crowded; but, it sure didn't feel like it.  One bathroom for everyone to share. No air conditioning. No color television until sometime in the late 70's.   (I'd like to see some of the kids nowadays try to survive on that kind of lifestyle!  LOL!)  We are still a very close family and do a lot of things together. There was always a lot of laughter growing up and there still is a lot of laughter!  They say it's the best medicine and I believe it!!

This blog will be about the funny stuff that happens to me and those around me!  It will probably jump around.  I'll have some new stuff and will also have some old funny stories/happenings.  Some names may be changed to protect the innocent!

My Tornado Dream
I was always teased because I have some extraordinarily strange/funny dreams.  I think that every year that we did a family gift exchange of gag gifts, I always got some type of dream interpretation book.  I've tried to read a couple of them; but, they don't mean anything to me.  One time there was a new sleep clinic opening in our state and as a promotion they advertised on the radio that you could call an 800 number and this gal would interpret your dreams.  My mom came over and told me about it.  Of course I had to call!  I took my telephone (which was tethered to the wall - that's how long ago it was) and stretched the cord all of the way into my washroom and closed the door to tell this lady my dream while my mother kept an eye on my daughters.  I felt like a fool telling her my most famous dream.

I had a dream about these tornadoes that came into town and they were beautiful cartoon Hawaiian tornado ladies (search Google images for Hula Girl Pinup Cartoon and you'll get a decent idea of what they looked like).  They were cartoon Hawaiian ladies with their hair up swept into a French twist with a flower in their hair, leis around their necks, bikini tops (just like they were going to a luau) and from the hips down they were spinning tornadoes.  I was in the bathroom taking cover with my daughters because the tornado sirens were going off when I heard a knock at the door.  I crawled from the bathroom to the living room on my hands and knees to answer the door.  It was my mother, brother and one of my sisters wanting to know if the girls and I wanted to go and grab a bite to eat.  For some reason, even though I HAD been taking cover, I got the girls and we left the house to go eat with them.  We were on the highway on the outskirts of town and I spotted these tornadoes (about six of them).  One of the tornado ladies tried to knock down a house but it was too much for her.  She bumped into the house and her tornado stopped spinning and she collapsed (cartoonishly fainting - I'm also picturing Mike Meyers on Saturday Night Live when he plays the older Jewish lady being "verklempt") on the front stoop of the house.  The lead tornado lady spotted my sister riding in the front seat and gave us the evil eye and started heading for us.  I got my sister out of the front seat and made her get to the back.  I told her that I thought the tornado was jealous of her boobs!  The dream interpreter told me that the tornadoes represented chaos in my life and the tornado headed for us represented me being jealous of my sister's maternal instinct.  The chaos may have been right at that time; but, I don't agree with the jealousy of my sister's maternal instinct!  See?!  Who dreams stuff like this?!!  LOL!  They are the most vivid colorful dreams.  I wish that there was a way to record them.  Or, I wish that I had been gifted the talent to draw and could recreate my dreams on paper.  When I tell my family my dreams, sometimes you should see the looks on their faces!  Hilarious!