Saturday, May 24, 2008

They Say You Never Forget... to ride a bicycle. So I put them to the test. Claye has an old one that she hasn't ridden in years, and, upon cleaning the garage and moving it around for the umpteenth time, I had a brainstorm:

"So, Claye, do you plan to take this bike over to college and ride it around?"


"Do you think you will ride it here?"

"Not really."

"So will you ever ride it again?"

"Probably not."

"Do you mind if I ride it?"

"Not at all. Go ahead."

And that's how I got myself a bike.

This morning, before the heat of the day grew oppressive, I decided to take it for a courageous spin. The first thing I had forgotten was that hand brakes are not as convenient as foot brakes, but I found them. The second thing, which actually caused me to turn around after the first block, was the bone-jarring solidity of the seat. Fortunately, I had once bought a soft cushion for a bike seat, and--since we had just cleaned the garage--I knew where it was hanging. Ah. Providence. I set out bravely toward the center of town, being thankful for my sense of hearing, that I might survive by not venturing out too far into the middle of the road, where the cars were whizzing by at the top of their fearsome 25-mile-an-hour speed limit. It was uphill riding. At the drugstore, I purchased blood pressure medicine and headed home, sailing downhill with the wind in my face.

They are right. You never forget.

Friday, May 23, 2008

Limerick and Haiku--Dating

This is in response to Mad Kane's Limerick Challenge
The Topic is Dating.


He thought her a bit over-rated
She firmly pronounced him out-dated
Yet, odd to discover,
They married each other
And they blissfully live—syncopated


Fussing with my hair…
How do I know what he likes?
Fluffy, Styled, Straight? Wild?

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Thirteen Things I Found in my Attic

Well, I said that I would clean out the attic and, in keeping with my good intentions, I've tried. Every day, I bring down a box and sort through it, or I go up to the attic early, before the heat climbs that high, and I shuffle boxes around, putting each in a spot that fits it better than the spot it sat in before. The stuff I keep running into is fascinating...and I don't have time to find another Thursday Thirteen, so here you are:

1. The first item is a trunk--an old army trunk actually that once held tools in the garage. It was hopelessly cracked and seemed destined for the garbage, but my little daughter once needed it for keeping dolls and toys. So we painted. We used several layers of fabric paint and filled all the cracks with gold glitter paint. It was as good as new, and you couldn't even tell. That was fourteen years ago. To this day it is full of treasures...who knows. Claye likes a good lock on her stuff.

2. Ah, but don't they look hopeful. My ice skates. I can't believe that it has been ten years since I lived in Gunnison, Colorado. I loved ice skating at the park in the winter, but I couldn't use the real leather skates. My ankles were fine in these. In Oklahoma there is seldom weather cold enough to use them. Sigh.

3. Now this seems a little funny to me.
Where are Elijah's musical instruments?
Behind the couches in the front room. Where is the Gracie Jiu-Jitsu equipment? Where are the boxing gloves? In a box in his bedroom. The computer games? Out on the bed, probably. The Basketball? In the attic. Did I ever tell you that we don't quite fit the mold? Well, watching a game on TV is sooo dreary.

4. Every year at Christmas time,
Turtle buys another moose. Every year I ask him not to because, honestly, how many moose does a family need? Besides, what do moose have to do with the Nativity? Did the Magi ride moose? The shepherds bring moose furs? Nooo, but every year another moose appears in the front room beside the tree. It's his little joke. We have boxes you can see.

5. This--yes you are seeing right--is a log.
No. It isn't a yule log; it's Bois D'arc wood. And apparently it needs to cure in a hot, dry place. Every young man feels more manly if he has a log curing so that he can make his own bow and arrows. This wood is so heavy I can't move it. Turtle and Elijah felled the tree after getting permission from a local farmer. It is nearly impossible to chop or saw because it is so heavy. If I dare complain about it, they remind me what fantastic wood it is. Not everyone has such a treasure. Now the flowers...I don't know how they got there, but they add a little something that was missing from the manly presence of the log.

6. A foam sculpture. um huh. It's an eyeball. Claye had to pick some kind of shape for the first sketch in her first sculpture class. She chose an eyeball and lived to regret it, as every project they did that semester had to be based on their original choice. If it's any consolation, the pupil actually moves around.

7. This little wedge-shaped suitcase is full of costumes.
Yes. We were a "dress up" family. All those "special dress-up-in-honor-
of-homecoming days" at school were a treat. Someday I'll have to do a TThirteen just on that. The hat is a Peruvian hat once worn by Elijah as part of a fourth grade slide show project to illustrate his report over Secret of the Andes.

8. My favorite painting.
I bought it at a garage sale some years ago and hung it in our old house. The mist and the moon just seem peaceful to me. Somehow it didn't fit this house, but I had great plans for it...then it was temporarily stored and the canvas got warped by another frame that fell against it. Now it graces the attic, and probably gets quite appreciated there....hmm, if I could straighten the dent, maybe I could take it to school. Students need to sit in the presence of fine art...calming fine art.

9. A bear.
Well. Everybody needs at least one bear in the attic. Save them for grandchildren, I say. You can't throw away a little bear, particularly one this cute.

10. This horse I bought for Babystepper's children,
Zaya and Mim. Well. They are growing up...but I wonder if other little grandchildren might like it some day. It doesn't mind the attic, so I let it stay.

11. This is a "Moises",

a baby basket brought back from El Salvador by my sister, so that my babies could use it as a bed. She couldn't put it in the baggage compartment of the plane and had to carry it all the way. We made a tight-fitting foam mattress and my mother even made a little bumper pad. Claye slept in it for six weeks; Elijah was almost too big for it at birth, but he lasted a week or two. Then I passed it down to four little nieces and nephews, two grandbabies, and a few dolls. Still looks pretty good for all that wear. So how could I possibly get rid of it? You try.

12. Baby clothes.
I saved a few, in a few select boxes. Here's one from each of my children. They are safe in the big, plastic bins. Thank goodness. Because in one of the cardboard bins--full of winter clothes and thoughtlessly left open, I found little Mr. Thirteen.

13. He was in the barrel
that I cleaned out today, along with a sister or sign of the mother. She had shredded a winter sweater to make their nest. Notice that he's on the grass. This heartless landlady evicted the poor thing.
It's ironic that there are no mouse traps in my attic, but I think maybe one is in order.

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