Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.~ Dr. Seuss

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Friday, January 30, 2009

Family Ties

Did I ever tell you that I was related to Pocahontas? If you look close enough, you might see a resemblance.



Create your own FACEinHOLE

Sunday, January 25, 2009

***Birthday Alert******Birthday Alert***

Velma

This is the only picture I have of me with my Grandparents. Anthony was just 3 months old, and it was my birthday. My Grandma died 6 months later at age 62, and I really miss her. Now that I'm old(er), I can think of a million questions I would love to ask her.
Although I never knew "what was wrong" with her, she was always sick, and Grandpa took care of her. He bathed her, cooked for her, cleaned, did the shopping and tended to her every need. It's hard to define Grandma Ray separately from Grandpa, because almost every memory I have of her, includes him somehow.

There were the times when Grandpa would be outside working and I would just sit with Grandma and listen to the stories she would tell. Usually, they were more than just stories, they were lessons about consequences for ones actions. They were powerful lessons and she could back them up with proof. Like the time she told me about her brother, who sat on a thumb-tack that was put on his chair at school by some prankster. The tack went through a strand of thread in his jeans and caused him to get blood poisoning. Her brother died from that tack. Another time she told me of a young mother that left her hair dryer plugged into the bathroom outlet. Somehow the dryer fell into the bathtub as she was bathing her toddler. I think of that lesson everyday as I put my dryer away.

My Grandma couldn't smell and I was always curious about that. If there was no smell, there had to be something to replace it. Was it a different smell? I just couldn't grab the concept and would constantly question her about it. "What does apple pie smell like? What do lilac's smell like? What does dinner smell like?" She never lost her patience with me and would just say " I don't know, I guess apple pie smells like, apple pie."

I thought I had one over on her once. I wanted to paint my nails. I asked her if I could and she told me no, that the smell of paint made Grandpa sick (which I already knew). I begged, and she stuck to her guns, the answer was no. Grandma was about to take her nap, and...she couldn't smell. I quietly went into the bedroom and painted my nails. I didn't just paint them once either. I didn't like the first painting so I tried wipe it off before it dried and then repainted. I was so proud of myself. Then...Grandpa came in. That was the only time in my life I ever saw Grandpa mad. He immediately got sick and had to stay outside until the house aired out. Grandma wasn't mad and I wasn't in trouble with her. She just had the perfect opportunity to teach me a lesson and simply said " I told you". Those words stung deeper than if I had just been whipped with a belt. When Grandma told me something would happen, I usually believed her. There just wasn't any other choice. She could prove it.

Grandma Ray was the first close relative of mine to die and I was totally shocked and devastated. I loved her so much.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


Monkey found this picture in my picture bucket the other day and wanted to know about it. So I thought I would post it here and share with everyone.

This was taken at the Dolphin show in Sea-World where I went with my family in the late 70's. I remember wishing I was sitting in the front row, that's where everyone was getting wet from the splashes.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Clara




My Grandma Bob was an organizer. Everything about her was organized. Her closets, cupboards, drawers, purse everything. I didn't get that from her, of all the things she did teach me, that one just passed me by. I knew she was organized, it just didn't rub off on me.

She was also a poster child for Miss Manners. She taught me the proper way to set the table, her and Grandpa sat at the set dinning room table every night. Grandma's table is the only one I have ever set. When her phone would ring, she would clear her throat and answer "mmmhello!" I asked her once, why she cleared her throat like that. She said her voice was usually raspy from not talking in a while and she wanted to make sure that the caller would be able to hear her properly. It's kind of funny, I sometimes catch myself doing that when I go to answer the phone. Not that there is any chance that I haven't been talking in a while, but I guess her example left an impression.

Grandma taught me that little girls should sit quietly and carefully at the kitchen table while painting their fingernails and that soft pink is an appropriate color. And to be very careful not to move while drying or you were sure to smudge.

I can still hear her matter of fact tone when she described in detail, who were in pictures and what they were doing. She explained everything with great authority. I think I got this from her, the need to explain everything, to death. The small details that maybe someone just might not see. Yeah, that's me, I'll point them out, just like she did.

Clara made me feel very safe when I was with her, she always had anything I could need. Kleenex, extra tooth brush, mosquito bite paste. Once she even put pads in my bag when I wasn't looking. She didn't tell me she knew I started my period, but she knew, I knew, that she knew. I always though it was such a treat, when I slept over, to wear her silky nightgowns. My favorite ( pronounced by grandma as fave-or-ite), was the pink one.

I still have a couple of quilts she made me. With a little repair, I'll keep them forever. And when she died, I got one of her sweaters. In the pocket, I found a tissue (which I threw away) and a hand written grocery list. I'll keep the list forever too.

As much as I miss her, I can't even imagine how much my Grandpa misses her. That's become very apparent to me lately because he talks about her frequently, and you can hear it in his voice. I'm sure she's patiently waiting for him.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

***Birthday Alert******Birthday Alert***


Someone is having a birthday!
So check out the birthday page.

Click here to see who's celebrating.

(leave a comment if you don't have access and would like to join in on the fun.)

This message was paid for by the committee of recycled birthday alerts. Stop the abuse of unwanted birthday alerts by passing them on to anyone about to have a birthday.

Saturday, January 03, 2009

Clara and Velma


I never knew how it started, but my grandma's didn't really have their own identity. They took on not only their husbands last names, but their first also. So Clara wasn't Grandma Clara or Grandma Ketterer. She was Grandma Bob. With two sets of grandparents on my moms side, it was easy for us kids to identify which grandparents were being referred to. Her parents - Grandpa and Grandma Bob or her grandparents - Grandpa and Grandma Pete.

That tradition also carried over to my dads side. And that made Velma simply, Grandma Ray.

I've been thinking a lot about my Grandma's lately. I wonder about their lives and wish I would have had the insight to ask more questions and really get to know them while they were still alive.

The other day, my Grandpa told Chad I was a lot like Clara. Am I? I hope so. I also hope I'm like Velma. I think I am. I can see how lessons they taught me have impacted my life. And I think I am passing on some of those lessons to my grand-kids.

In my next posts, I'll share my two grandma's with you. They were very special women. I think you'll like them.