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Archive for the ‘Family’ Category

Music to Live By

Posted in crazy world, Family, friends, Random Stuff, relationships and romance, THE HOBB, Uncategorized on 2012, March 4| Leave a Comment »

Like so many other people across the eons, Music has been a huge part of my development into the adult I am.  As a small child, every Saturday morning, after breakfast, Grandma put the stack of LPs on that big stereo that was a piece of furniture.  Some of you remember them, wooden, long, almost like a side board for the living room. Her tastes were as eclectic as mine are today.  The selection would include, Ray Charles, The Statler Brothers, Tammy Wynette, Elvis, George Jones, The Temptations, Liberace, Slim Whitman, some polka album she loved, etc.  I think to this day, Grandma is the reason I can’t clean without music pouring out of the house.  Obviously as I grew older, I began to make my own musical decisions. Grandma never, ever censored what we listened to, watched on television, movies we saw.  She would explain to us anything we had questions about.  Along with Grandma, I had my aunt, my mom and my best friend’s sister as musical influences.  They all listened to such variety. Between all of them, and the radio and my friends, I learned to love The Eagles, Fleetwood Mac, KISS, Aerosmith, AC/DC. Loretta Lynn.  It runs the gambit.

As a small, small girl,  like 4 and 5, my favorite singers were Charlie Rich and Tom T. Hall. Charlie Rich was my all-time favorite.  “The Most Beautiful Girl” and “Behind Closed Doors” were always played for me at my request.  Of course, I had NO idea what “Behind Closed Doors” was really about, but I loved The Silver Fox, and so it didn’t really matter. We weren’t really allowed to park in front of the TV too much with Grandma, but we did get to watch Hee Haw. I can remember see Charlie perform on there.Tom T. Hall had an album “Tom T. Hall Sings for Kids”.  It had those songs “I Love” and “Sneaky Snake” on it. Grandma would play that album for me all the time.  It often made it in the Saturday morning stack.

Obviously by middle and high school, I had been exposed to hundreds of songs and bands. I have always had a different drummer to march to, so as much as liking mainstream music, I often went against the grain, and there ain’t no shame in my game.  Yes, I love bands like N*Sync and performers like Nelly, but I also like the Violent Femmes, The Clash, KISS, Metallica etc.

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Of all the music I have been exposed to, bought, downloaded, seen live, loved and hated, it’s almost impossible to pick out favorites because songs mean different things to you at different times, and sometimes, it’s just music for fun.  In March of 1987, I turned 18. That year, I had come to love Beastie Boys, much to the disdain of my best friends, until I just forced them to listen so often they caved in to the awesomeness.  There weren’t many preppy white kids at Dreher loving hip hop and rap, but I grew up in a multicultural neighborhood and was around black kids and white kids alike, so as my black friends were discovering rap and hip hop, I went along for the ride.  Beastie Boys “License to Ill” is still one of my top ten albums of all time.  But it wasn’t Mike D or Jam Master J who was invading my brain, heart, soul, bones.  It was as band I had been listening to for years, thanks to WUSC and MTV’s 120 minutes. That March, Bono, The Edge, Larry, and Adam moved in to my being, and never left. My best friend bought me the cassette “The Joshua Tree” for my birthday, and I was done.  From the first listen to that album, every song resonated with me in some way.  Even now, some songs can get me choked up, make me want to dance, laugh, get angry.  “With or Without You” got me through a broken teenaged heart. “Trip Through Your Wires” helped me realize yes, broken hearts are survivable. “Where the Streets Have No Name” made me want to explore my own small world and stretch it like a canvas.  I have owned dozens of copies of the cassette and CD because I have played the different  copies so often, they’ve needed to be replaced.  I will never change the radio station if one the songs on this album comes on.  I have heard Bono sing those songs to me in person, knowing that he IS singing them just for me while The Edge mesmerizes me with his guitar.

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The only other album that has come close to this level of intense connection for me is Pearl Jam’s first album, Ten.  I obtained a promo copy of this album from my friend and neighbor in college, Rob.  He wanted some sweatshirt I had, so we bartered.  I gave him a lime green champion sweatshirt for the CD that revolutionized my senior year in college. from the first note that came out of my shitty stereo, I fell in love.  Head over Heels in love.  Those grunge boys had nothing on Kurt and his crew, as far as I was concerned.  I loved Nirvana, but I absorbed Pearl Jam.  Again, another album that ANY song can take me back to that senior year.  My college boyfriend broke up with me and pulverized my heart that spring.  “Black”, “Oceans”, “Why Go” and “Alive” nursed me back to some semblance of sanity so that I was able to survive that once in a life time event, the moment your first love breaks your heart and leaves you stunned.  I could be angry and rock out “Evenflow”, “Porch” or “Deep” and just be loud and crunchy – Oh stone and Mike with those guitars.

No two albums will ever replace these as the albums that shaped my life and attitudes about so much.  I often wish my life was “The Kentucky Fried Movie” so I could have my own personal soundtrack as I moved from highs to lows, successes and defeats, boredom and excitement.  These albums would have a starring role.

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My Day Care Center

Posted in Education, Family, Random Stuff, reading and writing, teaching, THE HOBB, Uncategorized on 2012, March 4| 6 Comments »

Growing up, we were pretty poor.  I didn’t really notice it so much because Grandma always made sure we had great Christmases and Birthdays.  I did know we didn’t have a car, but I just chalked it up to “Grandma doesn’t like to drive”.  She was a child of The Depression, a woman of a young marriage and divorce, two unruly, heathen children and as a result had learned to be crafty in her solutions to tricky situations.

When I was a little kid, several factors left me and my little sister unsupervised from about 2:30 to 4:30.  When I was ten, we moved from the Earlwood Park Area to the Melrose Heights area. We continued to go to McCants Elementary School (the best school I ever attended) because I wanted to finish up there.  It went to 6th grade and I was at the end of my 5th grade year.  We would get up before early and take a city bus downtown, transfer and then take another bus to McCants.  After school, we would need to repeat the process.  Mind you, this was in 1979, and the gentrification of the Heights hadn’t begun yet.  We lived on the last block of King Street, right down from many drug dealers and bootleggers.

Grandma didn’t really want us going home alone, and she certainly couldn’t afford someone to watch us. As a result of all these circumstances, Kelli and I took the bus downtown, but instead of transferring to the next bus, we went to Richland County Public LIbrary on the corner of Sumter and Washington streets. That was my day care center.  I knew every inch of that library.  I would wander around the art section on the second floor near the Children’s Room.  When I was tired of that, I would go look through thousands of albums.  I wandered from floor to floor, following Dewey, enjoying the smell and feel of the books.  All of the workers at the library knew us.  We were well-behaved and obviously we appreciated the books.  More importantly, we respected the sanctity of The Library.  Always easily bored, but eager to learn new things, and never shy, I befriended the women who worked in the children’s area.  Eventually, they taught me to check out books using a crazy machine that took a picture of your library card, a white paper card similar to a bi-fold business card with the map of Richland County that was represented in metal sculpture on the wall outside of the library and now resides in the new library on Assembly street, and a picture of the book from the back of the book.  They let me shelve books because I did a good job at it.  It was very important to me that books be in order and in the correct areas. I would help other little kids find books they liked.  I adored every minute of it.  I loved learning how to use the card catalog, which I can still do very well, and taught many classmates over the years how to use.

At a certain time, Kelli and I would go across the street to meet Grandma at the bus stop to go home.  I was safe every day and learned an immense amount of useful knowledge and skills.  My love of books continued to grow. My grandmother barely had a high school education, but she was had  love of books that she passed on to every one of her children and grandchildren.  No matter what our shortcomings, insanities, poor choices and mislead lives, we all had and have a love of reading and books that is nearly an obsession for some of us (me).

We only did that until I started 7th grade and walked to Hand.  I loved that year and a half spent in the stacks on Sumter Street.  It’s one of my favorite memories of being a child.  The only card I have loved as much as my first library card is my first voter’s registration card.

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Sleeping is for Sissies

Posted in Family, health and diet, Random Stuff, Uncategorized on 2012, February 26| Leave a Comment »

I have never slept.  Even as a little tiny kid.  The earliest I remember not being able to fall asleep was probably around 4 years old. (My earliest memory I can remember back to when I was 2 and this family had a wreck in front of our house when it was icy and snowing.  We had just been outside making a tiny snow man to put in the freezer).  When I was 4 and 5, I would sneak out of bed and hide under the table in our dining room to watch television while Gramma and my mom or aunt were in the living room. Where the table was, I had a perfect view of tv.  I never fell asleep under there. I would lie on the floor and watch until I got tired, then I would tiptoe back in to my room. Our house was like a big circle so I would sometimes have to go through the bathroom and another bed room to get to the dining room.

If I didn’t go loll around under the table, I would just lay in bed and day dream or tell my self stories.  As I got older and my sister and cousin was there with me, I would talk to them and keep them awake, but they weren’t night owls like I was. Eventually, they would fall asleep, and I would be on my own. I can remember being awake in bed tossing and turning while everyone was asleep, adults and kids.  When I was really little it was sort of scary, but as I got older, I was used to it.

When I was around 8 or 9, Gramma decided to humor me.  She told me I could get up after Kelli went to sleep. She was hoping if I was being quiet trying to get Kelli to sleep, I would fall asleep, too.  It didn’t work.  I would try to get Kelli to count, say her alphabet, whatever, play the quiet game.  Finally, when Kelli fell asleep I could get up and read until I was tired.  That was the best.  Once I learned to read I didn’t mind not sleeping anymore.  I could read all night, sleep a couple of hours, get up and go to school.  I would read until I was tired and then go to bed.  I was never a problem to wake up and get ready.  I would actually usually wake up before everyone else, too, and get them up for work and school.

As I got older, it wasn’t scary to be awake when everyone else was asleep. I would get up and check the doors and look outside to see if it was raining or if there was anyone out there.

Insomnia served me well in college when I would need to pull all-nighters to finish up papers or study for tests.  Now, as an adult, I still have insomnia.  I know that it is bad for you to never sleep.  I know I should probably sleep more.  I know that there are pills that could probably help me sleep more.  There is just too much to do in one day to sleep, even if it is just grading papers and watching tv.

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Am I?

Posted in crazy world, Family, Random Stuff, Uncategorized on 2011, October 1| Leave a Comment »

I am a girl born in “The South”.  I speak with an accent, thanks to 4 years of college with my best friend, Amy Jo (yes, that’s her real name). Growing up I heard, “Where are you from? You talk fuuunny?”  My response, “I talk like the rest of my family, YOU talk funny.” I did develop a twang, but even now, it’s not as bad as some of my friends.  I don’t know that I would call myself a true “Southern Girl”, as there are many qualities of such that I don’t possess.

First of all, and the main reason for revocation of my Southern Girl membership, I do NOT like grits.  I not only don’t like them; I HATE them. I would have to be starving for days to even consider eating them, and even then I’d probably wait another day or two.   I was the sort of child (and the same sort of adult) who I would NOT eat something I didn’t like.  If I don’t like it, that’s all there is to it.  I have gone hungry and thirsty more than once because something I didn’t care for was served at a meal.

The second reason and one the largest number of people find most abhorrent and unacceptable: I don’t drink sweet tea or as it is also known, sugar tea.  I never have drank and never will.  It tastes like drinking syrup. I prefer mine strong, unsweetened, lots of ice and NO lemon, thankyouverymuch.

Now, most people are aware that girls in The South grow up on football.  I was raised by a group of women from Indiana, so I was raised up on basketball.  I hate football, and all things football-related, except tail-gaiting; that is ONE southern trait I DO possess, the love of a good party! I don’t care who wins, loses, who is ranked,etc.  I live in a VERY college football oriented town, so it is everywhere! I do like home game days because the stores are little more empty, and I can find a good parking spot.

I can’t fry chicken or make white gravy.

I do have some Southern Girl traits, but I think not enough to make me full-fledged, which I could never be anyway, because my generation of the family is the first born in The South, so I wouldn’t qualify regardless. I can plant a seed in a man’s mind, and he’ll think he came up with it on his own.  I know how to bait a hook, skin a catfish; I’ve sat in a deer stand, bored to tears mind you.  I’ve checked trot lines.  I’ve caught lightning bugs.  I know a little bit about a car, and I can recognize a nice outboard motor.  I love the lowcountry of South Carolina and would claim it over any other place on the planet as home. I’m not blond haired or blue eyed.  I never went to my own débutante ball, but I did accompany a young man to his dilettante ball.  I know how to take the sting out of a fire ant bite or a bee sting.

I’m not a full-fledged Hoosier, and I can’t count my relatives back to The Original 13 Colonies.  I’m just like the majority of the country, a mutt created from an immigrant Irish grandfather and a grandmother with English bloodlines, my mother was created from them and I was created from her and a Cherokee father.  I think I’m doing okay without my pedigree.

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THE HOBB in a Box

Posted in Family, Random Stuff, THE HOBB, Uncategorized on 2011, July 7| Leave a Comment »

When my grandmother, the one constant in my life, died almost four years ago, she was cremated.  Her “cremains” were basically divided between me, my aunt, my sister, my sister-out-law and a plastic bag, with me getting the bulk of them. I keep her ashes in a walnut box designed for such purpose.  It has THE HOBB engraved on top. There is a plastic container which holds her ashes safely in the box. Around the edges of the box there is some space.  Whenever I find things that remind me of her, or belonged to her, that are small, I place them in the box with her. When her cat, Higgins, passed away, I put his collar in the box.  I have a lock of hair I cut off of her head the last time I cut it. If I find random coins, they go in there because she always wanted my change.  There are other little random things I find and stick in their. Today, I received a quarter, with Gettysburg on the back.  I put that in there, too.  That was our favorite vacation together.

I miss her every single day, but little things like this make me feel closer to her.

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2010 Fall Love/Hate Lists

Posted in Blogroll, crazy world, dating, Education, Family, friends, politics, Random Stuff, reading and writing, relationships and romance, sex, teaching, Uncategorized on 2010, September 12| Leave a Comment »

So, it’s been a while since I have done shown some love (and some unlove)

Things I am loving right now:

**almond bear claws from Publix

**teen lit

**my new teaching ideas

**snapped

**fresh, new razor cartridges

**the promise of fall in the air some mornings

**the reminder of summer in the air most afternoons

**planning my halloween costume

**playing with Matthew

**my new clinique mascara

**walker’s short bread

**my friends

**all of my dog/house/pool sitting jobs

**tammy’s pimento cheese

**thinking about the SC State Fair in a month!!

**reading my students’ journals (my favorite of which was a funny, cute account of trying to get Justin Beiber’s phone number on Twitter)

**our seventh graders this year

**ginger ale

**goat cheese

**sushi

**orbit spearmint gum

**my kitties

**a certain man who can always make me laugh

**movies

**new tv line ups

**project runway

**tim gunn telling off one of the contestants on PR

**Pinnacle whipped cream vodka with orange juice

**Jon Stewart and The Daily Show

**HeelTastic

**new season of The Amazing Race in two weeks!
Stuff I am not loving….

>>fall allergy season (achoooo)

>>car repairs

>>itchiness

>>being too busy to walk (which will be rectified this week!)

>>my  tan is fading

>>extremists who are intolerant

>>the stinkiness of the river

>>lazy students

>>my messy room

>>judgmental people who don’t know what they’re talking about

>>not being a trustfund baby or lottery winner

>>reruns

>>those ankle boot sandals mutations

>>jelly shoes

>>katy perry songs (all of them)

>>my spilling everything

>>my crappy old ass mattress

>>my crappy ankle

>>white chocolate

>>raspberry anything

>>lemon anything

>>the new cherry 7UP formula

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An open letter to my teachers

Posted in Blogroll, crazy world, Education, Family, friends, Random Stuff, reading and writing, Uncategorized on 2010, July 16| 1 Comment »

Dear Teachers:

This is to all of the teachers, professors, TA’s and anyone else who tried to teach me as a student in elementary school, middle school, high school, college, paralegal school or grad school.

Now that I teach middle school, I feel your pain, your pride, your disappointments, your fear and your amusement.  I am sorry I talked while you were trying to teach me about genetics or the Enola Gay, or, more likely than not, for reading something other than the assigned materials.  Please forgive me for being unmotivated and underachieving, for just wanting to turn in something that was just “good enough” and not always “my best”.  I know now that you didn’t want perfection, you just wanted my best, whatever that might have been.

To my elementary school teachers, thank you a million times over for your patience and judgment.  If it weren’t for you, I would probably have been pumped full of medications to calm and focus me.  Instead, you allowed me to work at my own pace, even though that meant I finished the day’s work within an hour.  Thank you for having the wisdom to know this was okay, and to just give me an open-ended pass to the library where I was able to sit quietly and calmly and read.  It was your great judgment and experience, Miss Judy Mills, that provided me with this chance to stay out of trouble and delve into a million different worlds each day. Thank you to the Librarian, Miss Ida Williams-now-Thompson, who went to the middle school (which I now work at!) to check out books for me when I had surpassed the topical and reading levels of our own elementary school.  As a teacher, I am not able to spot those kids who are too smart and plain bored in my classroom and I request that they be tested for gifted and talented programs, like Mrs. Dominic did for me in 2nd grade.   I don’t let them off the hook for misbehaving, but I don’t write them off either.   I have made them write sentence such as “I WILL NOT TALK DURING CLASS”, like the many sentences I had to write for Mrs. Childers in 3rd grade.  I also credit her with my vast vocabulary, acquired by writing dictionary pages at lunch time for her, earned by my talking during class time.  I even give lunch detention in the same fashion that Mrs. Dawkins and Mrs. Lorick gave it to me in 4th and 5th grade.

I remember that my students are just children who need to be taught proper behavior by someone, even if it’s me.  I keep in mind that some of my kids come from poorer backgrounds and try not to make them feel small or inferior.  I provide them with coats or shoes, pencils or paper.  I keep in mind that like my grandmother, not all adults have had a positive experience with teachers and school, so I treat them with dignity and respect at all times when dealing with their  children.

Many regards to the middle school teachers who tolerated me and all of my pubescent classmates as we struggled to get through this horrible age.  School was in no way important to me then.  All I cared about was not starting my period in Social Studies class, hanging out at Putt Putt and who was cute and who was going with whom.  Forgive me once again, Mrs. Redmond, for calling you Medusa in a note I was passing to Patrice Murray, that Rhett Bigby got confiscated.  I really didn’t mean and really felt bad. Thank you for accepting my apology then, and know that I learned more from that lesson than I did about science the entire time I was in 8th grade.  I am sorry Mrs. Dicks that I joined in the foolish talk that your husband’s name was “Harry”.  We were stupid and penis jokes were funny.   Thank you Mrs. Smith for telling me to stop reading Where the Red Fern Grows before Old Dan saved Billy from the mountain lion, and even worse, when Little Ann dies of starvation at Old Dan’s grave.  I sobbed like a baby that night and would have been mortified to have had that heaving, snotty nose bawl-fest in front of my classmantes.  (I am tearing up just thinking about those last few pages of that amazing book!) Thank you to the principal I work for now who remembers me as one of his students at this middle school and hired me anyway.

A begrudging thanks to those teachers at Dreher High School who tried to motivate me to stay in the Honors classes, and were disappointed when I moved to College Prep because it was easier and required little to no work on my part.  You were right.  There I said it. I DID need to be in those classes.  I didn’t know how to study in the most effective manner when I started college.  Thank you Mrs. Cauthen and Mrs. Gilmore for putting up with my pretentious reading habits and refusal to read assigned materials that I was uninterested in. Now when my students tell me how stupid or boring some story is, I am getting what I deserve.  While I never would have blatantly said this, I often thought it and just passive aggressively refused to read.  Luckily, most of you summarized so well, that I never had to.  Mrs. Gilmore, thank you for making me read A Separate Peace and The Catcher In the Rye.  However, I can never forgive you for Red Badge of Courage.  Thank you to the teachers who refrained from writing me up on a referral when I talked too much, and instead sent me to guidance, where I was put to work utilizing my office skills I had learned in my after-school job.  Now, when my student will just not shut up, I don’t write them up.  I find an alternative method of redirecting their energies.  Or I do as you did, and send them to someone else.  Thank you to Klein who forced me to show respect and didn’t allow me to call teachers by their first names, even if I knew them on a different level (like at my church). Now, I tell my students, “When you have a college degree, I will be Kim to you. Then we are equals.  Now, and until then, we are not.” I am sorry, Mrs. Masdonati for arguing with you and telling I would never need to know the formula for measuring my headlight on my car because I could just take it to NAPA for the part (even though I was right, and that’s exactly what I do now.) But don’t fret Math teachers, I DID learn some algebra, and more than a little geometry, and I am amazed every time I help a student with their math homework and actually know what I am doing and get the answer correct!

My poor, poor college professors.  I know you cared less about how I did in your classes, but I also know, as an educator, you just can’t help but wish some of us would work a little harder – at least to our potential.  Thank you most of all to Dr. C. C. Hunt for her sarcasm, wit and enormous book collection to all three of which I strive to meet or surpass on a daily basis. I can only blame it on falling in love, working, and really just wanting to have fun.  Thank you to Dr. Anna Katona for being such an inflexible, unyielding bitch, so that I could have an example of now I DIDN’T want to teach or treat students. I don’t really regret it, but I promise, that phase is over, and I am a stellar A student now.

Joe Mallini, I am NOT sorry I argued and debated the issues of law with you on a near-daily basis! It made the classes invigorating and informative for me. I only regret that you aren’t around any more and won’t be able to say I told you so, when I finally go to law school. Phil Mace, I am not sure how I learned a bit in your class, given your flaky, disjointed, absent-minded professor method of teaching, but to this day I think I learned more in Family Law than maybe any class except Wills, Trust and Probate.

As for grad school, thank you Linda Hall for helping me realize that as an educator and female leader, it is my duty to influence practice, procedure, administration and laws surrounding the education of our children.

So, to all of you who had a hand in The Education of Little Me, Thanks.  I haven’t forgotten what a pain in the ass I know I was.  So just know that I am getting my just desserts when my students who are BRILLIANT, but infamously LAZY refuse to work.  Know that I haven’t forgotten the punishments, rewards, equalities and inequalities meted out any of you, and that I use them daily.

Those of you who deal with or interact with children, please remember that they are watching everything you do and say and are absorbing and processing it all to use in their own “tool kit” for survival as adults.  Be firm, be gentle, be amused, be forgiving, be flexible, be fair, be just, be available, be there.

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Wooden Spoons

Posted in Family, THE HOBB, Uncategorized on 2010, April 22| 4 Comments »

When  I was a small girl, Gramma worked at Richland Memorial Hospital, in the canteen.  She was the manager.  Everyday after school, I would be dropped off  at the hospital by my ride.  I would meet Gramma there, and wait until her shift was over.  The canteen was only open until about 4.  After I finished my snack and whatever homework I had, which was usually none, I became bored and started asking my Gramma for something to do.  She would usually come up with some little chore for me to do and then give me some little bit of money to do it.  I did everything from pull the dead, wilted leaves off of heads of lettuce to restock the chocolate and strawberry shortcake parfaits in the mounted, back-lit refrigerated unit.

After I got my money, I would go next door to the gift shop.  I never could hold on to my money.   Ms. “Mac” ran the gift shop.  Actually, The Pink Ladies ran the gift shop.  They were the hospital volunteer ladies.  They still wear pink smocks. To me, however, it was Ms. Mac’s shop.  She would greet me, happy to see me.  “Hey Kimmy! What are we buying today?” she would ask.

I would smile and reply, “Hi, Ms. Mac!  I am going to get some candy and maybe somethinng for Grammer.”  I would walk over and collect my grape flavored Pop Rocks and a Sugar Daddy.  Then I would meticulously look at everything on every shelf. There were never any really big crowds in the small store that sold the basic hospital gift shop items: flowers, magazines, baby items, books, so Ms. Mac usually walked around with me, asking about school, my day, etc.  I was always spending my “hard-earned” money in there on something for Gramma, but it had to be just the right thing.  Nothing ordinary would do for MY gramma.

On one particular day, after several minutes of scouring the shelves, seeing things I had seen a million other times, my eyes spotted something new: wooden spoons.  Finding these, to six year old me, was like hitting the proverbial jackpot!  MY gramma always used wooden spoons with which to cook.  They were a quarter each! I carefully chose the four I wanted to get for her. I took my items up to the register.  Ms. Mac said, “So, have you found what you were looking for?”

“Yes, ma’am! Grammer likes to cook, so she’ll love these!”  It never occurred to me to wonder why a hospital gift shop was selling wooden spoons.  Now, in hindsight, I would say it was devine intervention.  Ms. Mac carefully placed my valuable items in a plain, pink paper bag.  I marched triumphantly back to the canteen, ready to eat my Pop Rocks and hand over the spoons to my gramma.

“I see you got some of those God-awful Pop Rocks. Well, you know you can’t have any Coke with those,” she said in her matter-of-fact-I-mean-business-gramma voice.

“Yes, ma’am.  I know.  I got you something!” I exclaimed.

“Oh good!  Do I get it now, or do I have to wait until we get home?” she asked.

I said, “I guess you can have it now.”  I opened the bag,  took my Sugar Daddy out for later and handed the now-rumpled pink paper bag over.  She opened it and slid out the slick, clean wooden spoons.

“They are just the kind I like, Kimmy!  Perfect,” she proclaimed.

At the end of her shift, we gathered up all of our stuff and started the walk home.  We only lived two blocks from the hospital, and this was always a favorite part of my day.  When we got home she said, “Let’s wash these up and then I can make us some pancakes for dinner!  If you’re not too full of Pop Rocks,” she smiled knowingly.  She knew that Breakfast for Dinner was one of my favorite things.  She made the pancakes for us and declared that they tasted better having been made with the new spoons.   I just sat there grinning, sticky with Ms. Butterworth’s.

Over the years, Gramma used those spoons all the time, making one love-filled meal after the next for the people most important to her, her family.  She provided us with pancakes, cakes, biscuits, stews, soups, Kool-Aid. Even now, 32 years later, we still have a couple of those spoons left.  She always cooked with those spoons, and whenever I see them, the evoke memories of my gramma cooking for us. Now it’s my turn to cook meals full of love for the people I care most about, and I’ll use those spoons to do it.

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no shame in my game

Posted in crazy world, dating, Family, friends, politics, Random Stuff, reading and writing, relationships and romance, sex, teaching, THE HOBB, Uncategorized on 2010, April 22| Leave a Comment »

Shit I have never been embarrassed about:

*my family – even the rednecky, loser ones.

*liking the following bands or artists: styx, journey, matchbox 20, nickleback (just like jesse), justin timberlake, tim mcgraw,  a lot of Top 40

*big hair in the 80s

*wearing black Reeboks in the 80s

*not getting my driver’s license until i was 21 – almost 22

*growing up a ‘hood rat

*painting my toenails

*having 5 cats and 2 dogs

*being a picky eater

*watching a LOT of television

*reading

*cross-stitching.  yes, i cross-stitch. so??

*believing in God, but not caring what people think, and more importantly, not caring or judging those who don’t

*never having been married

*being a liberal

*my friends

*not being a homeowner

*cussing. i cuss a lot.  a lot.

*talking to my animals and answering for them

*Duke’s mayo

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Back to Basics

Posted in crazy world, Family, Random Stuff on 2007, December 29| Leave a Comment »

 

(originally posted 2/07)

 

I am not a big traditionalist.  I pride myself on being pragmatist and a realist, in much the vein of John Dewey.  For the most part, I think that evolution and change are generally good for mankind and our progress as a society.  There are a couple of things from “the good old days” that I think are useful and positive. 

One of these is a family eating meals together.  I was flabbergasted when I taught.  So many of my kids never sat down to a meal with their families.  Some would on special occasions and holidays, but many, not even then.  There were a few of my kids who actually did have nightly meals with their families.  And you know what?  I could point them out.  Without being told.  I would know who these kids were.  They were the kids who cared about their grades and were well-behaved. 

I don’t want to hear the old excuses of no time, too busy, it’s easier, etc.  My gramma worked from 7 a.m. until 4 p.m. every day of the week.  On her feet.  Waiting tables or cooking in a day care.  She also took the bus to work and home, so she was up very early and home around 5:30.  She cooked a hot meal EVERY night.  We sat down at a table and ate a meal together.  We discussed our days.  She asked us about school and our teachers. We told her about upcoming tests, papers, and other assignments.  This continued until I was in college.  She and Kelli still sat down and ate. We had open communication at this dinner table.  We talked about sex.  We talked about fights with friends.  She told us about kids and people at work.  Kelli and I cleaned up afterwards. 

Do you know how hard it was to sit down at that table after she worked hard all day and tell her I got in trouble for talking at school?  All I had to do was go to school and behave.  (Okay, that is harder than it seems, especially for me.)  I think this is what kept me on track academically and behaviorally (for the most part).  Knowing I had to come home and be accountable for my behavior and my day.  That is missing for most of our kids.  They are not accountable or responsible for themselves.  Society and adults make too many excuses for our kids. A lot of them have difficult circumstances.  I don’t doubt that or deny it. I came from a family of difficult circumstances.   

We need to quit allowing our kids to develop a victim mentality.  They will have struggles and strife all of their lives.  Be held accountable for their personal behavior and their own grades is not asking too much of ANY child.  I don’t expect all children to make A’s and B’s.  I don’t expect them all to go to college.  However, I do expect them all to do all of the work assigned to them. I will expect my children to give 100% while they are at work. I give 100% while I am at work, and I have worked at jobs I hate.  Kids are going to have teachers they have personality clashes with.  They are going to have assignments they hate and don’t want to do. SO?  How many of us have task and duties to perform in our daily jobs?  ALL of us!  This just prepares them for life. 

Make your kid sit down with you at night and have a meal.  Sit down and have breakfast.  Make them accountable for themselves.  Teach them to be accountable adults and contributing members of society.  This is an old-fashion idea that still has a place today.  If you aren’t sitting down and having a meal with your family, start.  Start small.  Work up to every night.  It will be worth it. 

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