Second Blooming

Gretchen's Very Own Adventure: Part One

I'm always hearing about some actress or another who books a great location job. An acting gig that involves traveling to some fabulous and romantic location - Europe, South America, a cruise. It's one of the best perks of our business, actually getting paid to travel. And I'm telling you, we get treated well - first class plane tickets, all expenses paid. Very cool.

But in all of my 25 or so years as a working actress, with the exception of two months I spent in Israel back in 1989, I have only booked the most pathetic location jobs imaginable. Palmdale. Which is the meth capital of California. I think they put me up at a Motel 6. Riverside, California. Slight upgrade to a Holiday Inn. And I was flown twice, yes, twice, to...Minneapolis. In the middle of winter. Sad. That was the extent of my location jobs.

Until now.

Today, I am flying to shoot a commercial in...Spain. Yes, it's true!! At this very moment, I am sitting in my first class seat enjoying my wifi and a glass of complementary champagne. Hehehehehe! I'm so excited I'm about to bust. I'm flying from LA to New York, then changing planes and heading across the Atlantic (I've got an Ambien burning a hole in my pocket) and in the morning I'll be in Madrid. I then have THREE days off before I shoot for one day, and then head home. Can you stand it?

What commercial is it? I don't think I'm supposed to say. They didn't make me sign a non-disclosure agreement or anything, but it's kind of a no-no to blab about unaired commercials on social media. Suffice it to say, it's a pharmaceutical company, and I will be talking about my pain, which I no longer have because I use their drug. I'm telling you, these pharmaceutical companies have ALL the money in the world. I know how much they paid for these plane tickets, and it would have paid for Jude's private school for a year! And the craziest part is that they're not even shooting me out and about enjoying the sites of Spain. I'm in an office. They could have shot this thing in...Palmdale. But somebody at the drug company, or the ad agency must have wanted a trip to Europe, and damn if I didn't luck out!

But this was not the first part of my adventure. Oh no. Last week, they flew me to New York for A DAY for a WARDROBE FITTING. Because they don't have clothes in LA or Spain. (Where's that sarcasm font when I need it?) They flew me first class to NYC and put me up at a rather ritzy hotel down in the Meatpacking District, which is the in/hip area of the city right now. The wardrobe fitting took all of 2 hours.

I felt slightly bad about missing Jude's school's annual fundraiser/live auction, but guess where I went when I was in New York? To my friend Lannyl's kid's school's annual fundraiser/live auction! Is that crazy? It just happened to be that her school's party was the night I got to NY, and she and her husband have a band, a group of parent-musicians, and they were playing the party. I have to say, I had always thought that Jude's school's community was pretty fancy schmancy, and the bids in the auction were outrageous. But we are NOTHING compared to these Manhattan families! Turns out we're not fancy schmancy, we're just plain fancy. These folks were paying $48,000 for pieces of art! And I thought $50 for a Hello Kitty gift basket was a good auction bid. 

I am hoping that Jimmy and Jude will be fine without me. I have written out ridiculously detailed instructions with a full calendar for the kid and a full page of phone numbers of friendly moms if they need help. Jimmy seems confident. Jude, however, suggested that when I get home I'll find Jimmy sprawled on the sofa dead of dehydration, and Jude dead on the floor of the kitchen, his arms outstretched as he was crawling his way to the refrigerator (he acted all this out with great aplomb), with Fancy eating his leg. Wish them luck.

Oh, I'd better go. The flight attendant has just taken away my hot towel, and is bringing me my beef tenderloin. I think I'll just adjust my seat and turn on the massage feature. Teeheehee. I'll check back in from Spain.

Spin Cycle: Yogi

One Saturday afternoon, about 20 years ago, I had the television on while I was cleaning my apartment. At first I wasn't paying any attention to it, it was just random background white noise. Then I realized that an old Yogi Bear movie was playing. I'd always loved Yogi Bear and his little pal Boo Boo!

After a while, I took a break and found myself sitting on the couch, watching the movie.

It was springtime in Jellystone Park, and Yogi was up to his usual antics, stealing picnic baskets from unsuspecting tourists as Ranger Smith did his best to thwart Yogi's mischief. Then there was this business about the San Diego Zoo ang Yogi's girlfriend Cindy, and suddenly...it all seemed terribly...familiar. Was it just a deja vu? Or had I seen this before?

And then it all came back in a flood of memory. Hey There, It's Yogi Bear was the very first movie I had ever seen in a movie theater! I was only three years old, but I remember it with amazing clarity. The dark theater, the huge, mesmerizing screen, sitting on Mama's lap so I could see over the  people in front of us.

Remember that this was back in the days before video tape, much less DVDs. Seeing a movie in a theater was a special occasion. The next time you could possibly see that movie again was years later when it ran on network television.

The next two movies I remember seeing were Mary Poppins, which I made Mama take me to at least ten times, and then The Sound of Music, which we saw probably twenty times. Clearly, we loved our musicals. Mama bought records of the soundtracks to each, and we memorized all the music and sang and sang, and both had huge impacts on me.

But that first powerful cinematic experience with Yogi Bear led to a lifelong love of movies and eventually to a career as an actor. I guess Yogi and Boo-Boo aren't exactly Robert De Niro and Meryl Streep, but they must have made an impact on my small but curious mind.

 

Do you remember the first movie you saw in a movie theater?

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Be sure and check out Ginny Marie and my fellow First Movie spinners! And come back on Monday for next week's Spin Cycle topic!

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Spin Cycle: Dog Vs. Cat

I was raised by dog people.

Before I came along, Mama and Daddy were one of those childless couples who filled their photo albums with pictures of themselves with their much-beloved dogs. When I was born, I joined my brother Judge in all the pictures.

 

Judge, me.

 

Mama and Daddy LOVED that dog. His registered name was actually Chief Justice of Blue Haven, Blue Haven being what they had christened their land. Judge stories abounded. Mama swore that I learned to walk by holding on to this very patient dog's collar. One of their best friends swore that Judge walked up to her once and said "I'm hungry" in a sort of Scooby Dooish voice. The dog was brilliant.

Our first dog that I remember was my sweet, precious Fido.

 

Me, Fido.

 

Mama had desperately wanted a poodle, a breed which Daddy deemed ridiculous and girly. He agreed to get the poodle only if we named the dog Fido, the most over-the-top poodle name he could think of. On his registration papers, Daddy insisted on spelling it Fideaux, which he thought was hysterically pompous. Fido proved himself to be decidedly NOT poodlelike, always into trouble with skunks and such. I loved that dog. Unfortunately, Fido's second favorite hobby after chasing skunks was chasing cars, and so his life ended tragically.

After Fido came Abe, and after Abe came Rover. And then, when I was in 7th grade, I talked them into letting me get...a cat. That's right, a cat. Her name was Tatta. And yes, the 7th grade me named her, and I'm not sure why.

Tatta was Mama and my baby. We adored her. Daddy, the dog man, pretended to hate her. He always refered to her as "that cat". But secretly, we knew he loved her too. We would always catch him with Tatta asleep on his lap, and he'd feign ignorance "I don't know why this cat is on me. She got up here and I couldn't get her off."

About a year after Tatta joined us, we got Lady, our first female dog ever, who Daddy registered as First Lady of Blue Haven. Lady was very sweet, but as dumb as a stump. If I walked into my bedroom and came out wearing a hat, Lady would freak out barking because she didn't recognize me. That's dumb. However, she was the only dog we had who didn't end up a victim of the road, so maybe not so dumb. Tatta loved her deeply.

 

Mama is rolling in her grave because I'm sharing this picture, taken during the year before she joined Weight Watchers, but it's the only shot I have of Tatta and Lady snuggling. And yes, we did have red shag carpeting.

 

Tatta and Lady lived happily together for long and happy lives, both living far after I had grown up and moved away. After Daddy died, they were Mama's loving companions.

When I got my first apartment on my own, I decided I too wanted a companion, and since dogs weren't allowed in my apartment, I got a cat, and this was the beginning of my many years as a Cat Lady. You can read a post about my Cat Ladying HERE, which features a rather creepy Cat Accumulation Timeline. I hadn't set out become a cat person, it just...happened.

And then, after our last kitty, Imogene, passed away at the age of 23...

 

 

Imogene, in her dotage.

 

...we got Fancy.

 

Wuv her!

 

Santa Claus brought her to us on Christmas morning 2009 and suddenly...I'm a dog person again!

Fancy is possibly the sweetest, mellowest, most easy-going dog that ever lived on the Planet Earth. She never barks, barely sheds, never chews, never seems to have to pee, and loves us all deeply. I can't believe that I lived so long without a dog. Soon after Fancy joined our family Jude said to me "Mama, hearts are coming out of my head. That's what happens in cartoons when you love a dog." And it's true. Fancy makes hearts come out of my head.

But now...I'd kind of like to get another cat. A teeny little kitten. Wouldn't that be sweet? Then Fancy would have a little pal to hang out with. They could be like Lady and Tatta. I need to start working on Jimmy.

Which are you, a Dog Person or a Cat Person?

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Visit our other Dog Person/Cat Person spinners! Feel free to add your post in the Linky below. And check back on Monday for Ginny Marie and my next Spin Cycle topic!

 

 

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Spin Cycle: Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

How are you doing this year? I just checked the weather at the North Pole, and The Weather Channel says that it's currently -17 degrees F, but with the windchill it feels like it's -41! So I'm hoping that you and the missus and the elves and the reindeer are inside, with a nice fire going and a hot toddy.

It's been on the coldish side here in Los Angeles, but I realize that our 42 degrees in the morning doesn't have anything on your -17, so I really shouldn't complain. But this cold weather has been giving me a touch of arthritis in my thumbs (I really am turning into my mother), so I worry about you and Mrs. Claus. Maybe this year, when I leave you your treat of cookies and bourbon, I'll also leave you some Icy Hot for your arthritis. All of that sleighing around in the elements and heaving bags of goodies up and down chimneys is bound to do a number on your joints.

But anyway, I believe that I have been a fairly good girl this year. I have really been working on being more patient with Jimmy, and have managed to limit the number of times I slam things around and grumble sarcastically to myself whenever I find some kind of mess or other which he has made and failed to clean up.

I've also been consciously trying to avoid snarky gossip. And sometimes I succeed.

So I have a few things I'd really like to have. If you see fit, maybe you could help a girl out.

Uggs.

You know how I never once ever read the Oprah's Book Club book at the time everybody else did, but instead stubbornly waited a year or so? I attribute this to some strange and rebellious need to do things my own way in my own time. In a similar fashion, I have avoided the whole Ugg boots craze for the last eight years or so. But I have decided that I'm ready. And I think it's something that Jimmy would approve of, given his freakish obsession with keeping everyone's feet warm. I would like either these...

 

Bailey Button in Black

or these...

 

Classic Short in Black

Which do you think? Maybe you could run it by Mrs. Claus.

A new iron.

 

This one looks good.

 

I realize that this is not a particularly sexy gift, but I could really use one. I dropped my old iron about a year ago, and the pointy tip cracked off. It still works fine, but the jagged end keep getting stuck on the clothes. I probably should have bought a new one right away, but some part of my mother which lives deep inside me just refuses to throw something away that still works perfectly well.

And by the same token...

A new toaster oven.

 

Black & Decker has always served me well.

 

The old toaster oven still works just fine, but unfortunately, the handle has fallen off. So in order to open and close it, I have to stick a knife into it and pry it open, then hold it open with a pot holder. Maybe not the most convenient or safest way to do things.

Birchbox points.

You know how much I love Birchbox (you know because you know everything). Getting my little box of treats every month is a great source of joy for me. Well, they have this cool Birchbox points system where you earn points every time you buy something from them or review a product or refer a friend. It's the Refer a Friend part where you get the big points. Well, I've been saving up points to buy Jimmy some cologne for Christmas. He really loves this cologne, and it's ridiculously expensive. But if I had more Birchbox points, I could get it for cheap. So maybe, if Mrs. Claus or some of the elves would like to join Birchbox, they could use this link - http://birch.ly/1duYMlz - and then I can get the Refer a Friend points? I promise they will enjoy their Birchboxes. Would you mind passing that on to them? Jimmy really wants to smell good.

 

Smells good, y'all.

 

No shoulder surgery.

There's something wrong with my right shoulder. I don't know what. But I can no longer rotate it in the way it needs to be rotated, and if I move it in one direction very suddenly, it feels as though a large, hot knife is being plunged directly into my shoulder blade. I realize that I need to go to the doctor, but honestly, I'm afraid that the doctor is going to say that I need to at least immobilize it for a while, and at the most have some kind of dreadful surgery, and I just simply don't have the time. I have too much to do. Perhaps I'm being paranoid. It might just be bursitis or something.  Anyway, any help you have on this subject would be appreciated.

Health for the old ones.

I'm worried about my dear in-laws, Mommy, Pop and Aunt Grace. They are all in their 80s now, and their health is declining. Nothing major, just many, many small problems. It's really the first time that it's become apparent that they are all getting old. They've always been so youthful and strong. But now they are getting kind of feeble and frightened. Pop has suddenly started saying "I love you" when we finish phone conversations, and I fear that he thinks he's going to die. And Mommy's had a slew of ailments, some kind of serious and scary. I would really appreciate any help in keeping them safe and well for a while longer. We all love them dearly.

Okay, I guess that's it for this year. As always, if this is too much work, I'd also accept cash or gift cards.

Thank you so much for always being so generous for my boy, Jude. He's still a firm believer, by the way. And let me know if there's anything I can do for you. If you need me to take care of some of the stuff for Jude, just let me know.

Hope you have a safe and rewarding flight! Love to Mrs. Claus, the elves and the reindeer!

Love,

Gretchen

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Link your Letter to Santa in the linky below! And be sure visit the other Spin Cycle participants. It's the good thing to do. And remember, Santa knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake!

 

 

 

 

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Spin Cycle: The Little Trailer

When I was a little girl, summer vacation meant one thing. Renting the Little Trailer.

Every summer, from when I was about 4 through when I was about 13, our little family of three rented a small travel trailer, hitched it to the back of our station wagon, and took off on a two week tour of the USA.

 

Daddy and Mama with little trailer. Artsy photo courtesy of 6-year old me.

There was a trailer rental place over on I-35, and a couple of days before we headed out, Daddy and I would go there and pick out our trailer. I LOVED those trailers. They were so cute and compact - everything fit together just right - it was like a little mobile doll house that we got to live in for a couple of weeks. I remember the smell of those trailers - imitation wood paneling, formica, foam rubber. Every trailer had a little dinette area, which converted into a queen-sized bed with an extremely firm mattress, a separate sofa/single bed and a tiny kitchen that ran off that little propane tank mounted on the trailer hitch.

We had three routes we took from Austin - 1. Due north, through the midwest to visit Mama's family in South Dakota and Montana. Included Mount Rushmore, the Badlands and Yellowstone. 2. The South, a loop through Louisiana then the old South, up through the Great Smokies then back through Arkansas. Included Civil War battlefields and cool old plantations.

But my favorite trip was 3. The Southwest. We'd head northwest through the Texas Panhandle, northern New Mexico, southern Colorado, then down through Arizona and back through southern New Mexico and back home.

That Southwest USA trip was filled with magical, fanciful locations, which amazed me and filled my childhood imagination...

 

The Petrified Forest, Arizona. An entire forest of petrified trees that lived 225 million years ago.

Daddy and real fossilized dinosaur footprints in New Mexico.

Lake Powell, newly created when they flooded the great Glen Canyon by damming the Colorado River. The walls were lined with Navajo drawings.

White Sands, New Mexico. Miles and miles of white gypsum sand in the heart of Apache country.  Again, apologies for my 6-year old photographic abilities.                                                                                                                                                                                        

Daddy would write out detailed vacation itineraries, pouring over AAA Guides for weeks. He knew exactly how long it would take to get to each destination, and exactly how long we could stay there before we needed to move on. We would hit the road at precisely the time Daddy planned, stopping to eat a picnic lunch at exactly noon (I can just taste those sandwiches - Wonder bread, mayonnaise and pimiento loaf) and stopped at every single historical marker and landmark on the way.

We pulled our little trailer across America, staying mostly in trailer parks...

 

...but occasionally stopping for a couple of days to visit relatives. We loved visiting our cousins the Sommers, who had a massive ranch in Springerville, Arizona, right next to the New Mexico border.

 

Sommers family

The Sommers fascinated me, not just because they lived on this enormous working ranch, where we were allowed to dig up Indian arrowheads and pottery shards (everyone who knows anything about archaeology may now shudder), but they were also...Mormons. Which was very interesting. Every night, Mama and Cousin Nell would sit on the porch - Mama with her bourbon and water, Nell with her "Mormon cocktail"- lemonade.

I remember hours and hours of playing by myself in the backseat. Well, I say by myself, but I had as many dolls with me as Daddy would allow me to take along, and they were good company. I also had piles of coloring books and paper dolls and puzzles. And Mama was full of tons of fun car trip games. We played the license plate game and the alphabet game and something Mama called "Zip" which involved spotting white horses.

I look back on those sweet summer days driving across America with such nostalgia. And it's a little bittersweet, not just because Mama and Daddy are both gone now, but because I know I could never recreate those trips for Jude. Jimmy, alas, is NOT a cartripper. Bad back, bad patience. I keep thinking of trying to organize a moms RV trip to the Grand Canyon. Anybody up for it? I'd be happy to plan the itinerary, and I promise I'd be a little looser with the schedule than Daddy. Let me know.

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More Summers Past spins...

Nain at View From Down Here

Vandy J at The Testosterone Three and Me

Kendra at Life in the slow lane

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Next week on The Spin Cycle...

Reruns

Okay, this is an easy one. Or maybe not, because a choice must be made (and I'm terrible at that).

When I was a kid, summer meant reruns on tv. Which was good if you'd missed an episode of your favorite show. And sometimes, there would be an episode that you LOVED and here was your big chance to see it again.

So next week is your chance to rerun your favorite blog post. It could be your favorite post ever or just your favorite post of the year, or just what you feel like sharing again. And it will be your readers chance to read something they missed, or reread something they loved. Win/win.

Decide. Post it. Let me know. I'll link it.

See you next Friday for my Reruns spin. Oh man, this is going to be hard. I hate playing favorites. Any requests?

 

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The Rawhide Legend

According to legend...

Mama was working in the garden, planting some new rose bushes. She was not wearing gardening gloves, because she liked the way the moist dirt felt on her hands. She would come to regret this.

It was mid-March, and the weather in Texas was starting to warm up, so she had decided to garden at dusk, when it was pleasantly cool outside.

She was wearing a large and not particularly attractive muumuu, which her sister-in-law, Verna, had sent her from Hawaii. It was the only thing that still fit her, as she had outgrown all of her maternity clothes.

Oh, did I fail to mention that she was pregnant? She was. Quite pregnant, in fact. But she still had a couple of weeks until her due date, so she was pretty surprised when labor pains started in fast and furious. She sunk down to her knees.

"Roy!!!" she cried.

Nothing.

"ROY!!!" she yelled out, louder.

Nothing.

She managed to get up and stagger into the house. Daddy was sitting in his big chair in the living room, watching "Rawhide" on television. Daddy loved a good Western.

"Roy! It's TIME!!" Mama cried. Mama was often melodramatic.

"Now?" Daddy asked calmly. Daddy was never melodramatic.

"Yes! Now! The baby is coming now!"

"Well, why don't you go lie down and let me watch the rest of "Rawhide". It will take a while for that baby to get here. We'll drive in to the hospital after the show," declared Daddy, ever the pragmatist.

"But this baby is coming NOW!"

A rather large fight ensued.

Mama, of course, won, as pregnant women in labor tend to do, and Daddy turned off "Rawhide" and drove her to the hospital.

When they got there, they whisked her into the Maternity Ward, and told Daddy to go home. They would call him when it was closer to the time for delivery.

Once Mama got into the Maternity Ward, they stuck her in a bed in the corner and refused to call her doctor. It was far too early, they said, it will still be many hours until that baby was ready to come out.

"But this baby is coming NOW!"

 "Oh my goodness, you older mothers..." scoffed the nurse. Mama never forget this line.

Because she was, in fact, an older mother - almost 40. Which was rare in those days. And the nurse in charge seemed to think that Mama was a silly, over-reacting older mother, who clearly didn't know anything about birthing babies.

Mama became convinced that they just weren't taking her seriously enough because she was wearing this terrible muumuu and she had dirt stuck under her fingernails. She was afraid that they thought she was some kind of low-class woman, who didn't know any better than to go into labor with dirty nails.

"I was gardening! I'm not usually dirty!" Mama tried to tell the nurses, "I should have worn gloves!  This baby is coming NOW!"

Finally, after a few hours, she convinced a nurse to come and examine her, and sure enough the nurse took one look and said "This baby is coming NOW!"

They called her doctor, and Daddy, who both rushed down to the hospital. Within an hour, the doctor found Daddy out in the waiting room, and told him he was the father of a healthy baby girl. Me. It was just after midnight on March 18, 1961.

 

Notice that by now she has washed her hands and put on a little lipstick. And a bow.

Daddy never got to see the end of that episode of "Rawhide". And Daddy, having the wry sense of humor that he did, complained about it for the rest of his life. Every year on my birthday, he'd mutter sadly, "Never did see the end of that "Rawhide". Every time the show was on, he'd watch, but after a few minutes he'd shake his head sadly, "Nope. That's not the episode."

But Daddy didn't have Google. Or IMDb. Or YouTube. Though he would have loved them - all that information at his fingertips. And I, being very much my father's daughter, did a bit of research.

I Googled "Rawhide March 17, 1961" and sure enough..."Rawhide" Season 3, Episode 19, Incident Near Gloomy River  popped right up on IMDb! The legend has been confirmed! And John Cassavetes was the guest star, so I guess it was a good episode!

My next stop was YouTube, and guess what? A scene from Incident Near Gloomy River. Gotta love the young Clint.

And so, this is for you Da.

 

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This post was inspired by...

 

Prompt #3 - Tell us about the story of your birth.

Spin Cycle: Geek Warning

I am a game dork.

I play a wide variety of dorky online games. All the time. Like, really, pretty much all the time.

It's compulsive. I can't stop myself. At this very moment, I have open, on other tabs on my computer, both Zynga, where I'm playing Farmville 2, and Club Pogo, where I'm playing something called Mahjong Gardens. During the time it took for me to write this post thus far, I have gone to both of those sites and played both of those games. Twice.

Which isn't really that crazy, because, you know, there is a County Fair going on at my my tiny virtual farm, so it's pretty important that I keep my crops watered and fertilized. Because if my crops are fertilized, I'll get prized crops, and if I sell enough prized crops, I'll get a medal. I mean, not a real medal or anything, it's a...virtual medal. And Mahjong Gardens has a daily challenge going, and if I earn enough tokens, they'll give me even more tokens. Which aren't actually worth anything, but...

Okay, it really is crazy.

I have always been this way, since I was a kid. I remember compulsively playing jacks on the floor of my bathroom for hours and hours, working my way from onesies to tensies to Eggs in a Basket and Crack the Egg. I can still remember the clatter of the jacks when I tossed them on the tile, and the satisfaction of raking all the jacks up in one hand and catching the ball before it hit the floor.

After jacks, I became a Solitaire nut. I knew all sorts of types of Solitaire - Klondike, Pyramid, Seven Up, Spider. I'd play it on my bed while watching tv. I would sometimes watch tv, do my homework and play Solitaire at the same time. I was a multi-tasker.

Later, I got into word puzzles. I'd buy these puzzle magazines - I had one with me at all times.

 

I may have put the Dell children through college.

 

Crosswords, Anacrostics, Cryptoquizzes. I loved them all. And I always used a pen, never a pencil.

And then along came the computer and then the iPhone, and it's all been downhill from there.

Back before Jude was born, I bought these PC games which I played all the time. I played my way through the entire Diablo series, leading my tiny sorceress through the many levels of hell to defend the world against Mephisto and Baal. It was very gratifying. I also obsessed over the Myst games, and about 20 other puzzley adventure games. I would stay up late at night solving virtual mysteries and saving virtual worlds.

The list of dorky games goes on and on, and I know this is already becoming a little monotonous, and...embarrassing. So I will stop the litany of dorkdom.

Why do I obsess this way?

A friend of mine once read my palm. As she was running her finger over my various lines and rings, she suddenly asked "do you play a lot of games?"

"Yeah. A lot," I answered.

"Hmmm. Yeah, you're one of those..." she replied mysteriously.

According to this friend, certain people have minds that won't shut off. They just think and think and think and think. And the only way to relax and renew and...go to sleep, is to occupy the mind with a problem or puzzle.

YES! THAT IS ME!

I can't turn my brain off to go to sleep. I have to give myself something specific to think about, a story or a problem or a puzzle. It's something to do with occupying my conscious mind and freeing my unconscious mind. Or maybe it's the other way around. Playing a game or working on a puzzle actually makes me relax. And it also strangely frees my thoughts. I find that if I'm writing, and have a problem to solve, if I zone out playing a game for a while, my mind opens up and all sort of useful thoughts slip in.

At least that's my excuse, and I'm sticking to it.

Have I shared too much? Do y'all still respect me?

Oh look, my livestock is hungry. I'd better get to it.

 

Check out all my animals and crops!

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More extremely obsessive spinners...please don't judge them...

Suzicate at The Water Witch's Daughter

Nain at View From Down Here

Vandy J at The Testosterone Three and Me

Lynn at Curly Girl's Music World

Jan at Jan's Sushi Bar - NEW on FRIDAY

Janice at I Got Nothing - NEW on FRIDAY

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Next week on The Spin Cycle...

Pets

Ahhh. We love 'em don't we. Do you have a favorite non-human member of your family you want to show off? Put them front and center.

Or maybe there's a beloved childhood pet who you still miss every day?

Or maybe...you had some pet disasters? Did your family experience a run of dead hamsters? Or a dog who ate his way through all of your shoes and panties? Or an ornery cat who everybody hated but lived longer than any other animal you ever had?

Pet name? Pet project? Pet cemetery? Pet Sounds?

Write your spin on Pets. Post it. Tell me. I'll link it here.

Check back on Friday for my spin on "Pets", and to find out the next week's Spin topic.

If you've never joined The Spin Cycle, now's the time! Don't worry, we won't bite!

 

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Moonwalk

July 21, 1969

I remember it well. I was 8-years old.

I had put on my nightgown and gone to bed at 8:00 pm, my usual time, and gone to sleep.

But then, at about 9:30 at night, Mama came into my room and woke me up. Something important was about to happen.

She led me into the living room, and snuggled up with me on the sofa with a blanket and a pillow. Daddy was sitting in his chair, and our big console color television was tuned in to a news program.

Earlier that day, Apollo 11 had landed on the surface of the moon, and everyone in the world was tuned into their television sets, waiting for a miracle to happen.

At 9:56 pm CST, Neil Armstrong made his way out the door of the tiny lunar module, and we all held our breaths...

 

I remember Mama starting to cry, and Daddy getting stoicly quiet as we watched these two amazingly brave Americans erect our country's flag on the surface of the moon, so far, far away.

Through my life, I've watched many memorable events on television - the towers crumbling on 9/11, the Challenger disaster, the OJ car chase, the funeral of Princess Diana, the levees breaking during Hurricane Katrina, the LA riots. But all of those events were tragic and shocking. 

July 21, 1969 was a triumph. It was a moment when everyone in America tuned in to proudly watch our country's success. We all cheered along with those men in the shirts and ties gathered in that huge room at Mission Control in Houston, not far from where I sat in my living room with my family.

I wonder if I'll ever again see an event which brings our country that much pride. I fear not.

What television news story made the biggest impression on you when you were a kid?

___________________________________

This post was inspired by...

 

 

Prompt #1 -  How old were you? Share one of the first news stories you remember caring about.

 

Spin Cycle: Springtime Things I've Been Thinking About

Ah, Spring...

Daffodils

When I was a little girl, every time I got sick and stayed home from school, my sweet Daddy brought me a little present when he got home from work. Usually, it was a coloring book or paper dolls (I'll never forget when he brought me a Julia coloring book - remember that tv show Julia with Diahann Carroll? She was a groovy widowed nurse raising her little boy Cory all by herself. Okay, I just veered wildly off topic...) or when I was older, a Seventeen magazine. But once, when I was about 10-years old, he brought home a bouquet of daffodils. Just for me. It was the first time anyone had ever given me flowers, and it has led to a lifelong love of daffodils. And every Spring, good old Trader Joe's has them on sale for 99 cents a bundle, and I go crazy and buy 5 or 6 and fill the house with them. I loved my Daddy!

 

I wish I'd taken this picture

 

Favorite shows are back!

Woohoo! Game of Thrones premiered on Sunday, and the tension is mounting in the Seven Kingdoms. My man, Peter Dinklage has a fabulous new scar...

 

Chicks dig scars.

 

And Mad Men returns for it's 6th season THIS Sunday! They're promising that the focus will be more on the women this season, which is fine with me. Can't wait! Y'all should definitely check out my Cocktail Guide, and get ready to make Betty's favorite drink, a Tom Collins, while you're watching.

 

Produce

For about a year now, I have been getting a box of organic produce delivered to my front door every other week from Farm Fresh To You . I have LOVED it. Every time I get my box, it's a culinary adventure. It's like that tv show Chopped, because I never know what's going to be in the box, and it completely inspires my cooking for the week. Here's this week's box -

 

This week's haul - strawberries, asparagus, chard, lettuce, carrots, onions, apples and a wacky mushroom!

...now that is Spring, y'all! If anybody lives in So Cal, and is inspired to join the fun, click on this Farm Fresh To You link. And if you tell them that I referred you, you'll get $10 off your first box, and I'll get $25 applied to my account! Use the promo code 6164, and tell them my name. I promise you'll love it!

Pasta Primavera

Since I have all this yummy produce, I made Pasta Primavera this week. It's one of Jimmy's favorite things in the world. This is the recipe I make, but you can throw in pretty much any vegetables you have. I would have put in zucchini if I'd had it. And maybe yellow squash. It's all good. Every time I make this, I am reminded that the doctor who delivered Jimmy, long ago in Brooklyn, was named Dr. Primavera. Don't you love that?

Pasta Primavera

2 tbsp olive oil

1/2 onion (or one small leek) chopped

1 clove garlic, minced

1 cup broccoli, cut into very small florets

1 cup sugar snap peas

2 carrots, peeled and sliced

1 cup frozen peas

10 to 12 asparagus spears, sliced in 1-inch pieces

15 cherry tomatoes, halved

2 cups chicken broth (or vegetable broth, if you're so inclined)

salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

3/4 lb. farfalle pasta

Parmesan cheese

Heat oil in a large pan. Add onion and saute until softened. Add garlic and cook for 30 seconds. Add broccoli, sugar snap peas and carrots. Cook for 1 minute. Add frozen peas, cook until defrosted. Add asparagus and tomatoes. Stir for 1 minute more, then add chicken broth. Bring to a simmer, and cook about 5 minutes. Everything should be pretty al dente.

In the meantime, cook pasta. Drain. Serve vegies over pasta, and top with lots of Parmesan.

It's good and good for you!

Whish Shave Crave Blueberry Shaving Cream

I am LOVING this stuff. I got it as a sample in my Birchbox, and I'm kind of crazy for it. First of all, it smells like blueberries, which is kind of a revelation. But the best thing is how it works. It's not like the same-old, same-old shave cream. It's so moisturizing that when you shave, you feel like it must not be working because there's absolutely no friction. But then, it does work, and when you rinse it off, you don't even need to put on lotion. It's amazing. Oh, and if you want to start getting Birchbox, you can go to THIS LINK HERE, and I'll get free Birch Points for referring you. Man, I'm all about the kickback today, aren't I?

Rockin' Robin Nail Polish

Is this the cutest nail polish ever?!!!

 

What could be Springier than robin's egg, y'all?

 

This will be my toe nail color from spring through the summer. I LOVE it!

Strawberry Daiquiri

Did you notice that box of strawberries up there in my produce picture? Well they were not long for this world. They were made into an excellent and terribly Springy cocktail, which I enjoyed oh so very much. Please follow suit...

Strawberry Daiquiri

2 oz. white rum

1 oz. lime juice

1/2 oz. triple sec

1/2 tsp. sugar

5 - 10 strawberries

ice

Dump it all in a blender and whir it up. Is that a word? Whir? Well, you know what I mean. Serve it in a margarita glass. Yum

____________________________________

Hop on over to our other Spring spinners (Get it? Hop? Spring? Sorry.)...

Janice at I Got Nothing

Vandy J at The Testosterone Three and Me

Nain at View From Down Here

Jan at Jan's Sushi Bar - NEW on FRIDAY

Ginny Marie at Lemon Drop Pie - NEW on FRIDAY

____________________________________

Next week on The Spin Cycle...

Inspiration

Where do you find inspiration? What do you find inspirational? A place? A song? A picture? A poem? Is there someone who you have been particularly inspired by? Does inspiration come from inside? Outside? Above?

Write it. Post it. Let me know. I'll link it here.

I expect to be quite inspired by your posts!

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Dear Diary

When I was 10 years old, Mama gave me this...

My Diary. For many years, I protectively locked it, hid the key and then carefully stowed away the diary itself. I never used it as a journal per se, not a daily record of my activities. It was more of a...dumping ground. A place for me to spew forth my preteen/teenage angst, safe from judgment or recrimination.

I fervently wrote in it for short spurts of time, first when I was 10 and 11. I then lost interest for a few years, returning during my traumatic puberty years, then again during my senior year in high school, when I wrote loooong, angst-ridden, gossipy diatribes about who did what to whom and how sad it all made me. Much time was spent on various boys who I had crushes on, but didn't know I was alive. Sad.

It's all very embarrassing stuff. But I'm always up for a challenge, and seldom shy away from public humiliation. So when Andrea at Maybe It's Just Me e-mailed and invited me to join her My So-Called Teenage Life Blog Hop, I just couldn't resist.

And so for your enjoyment, dear readers, I am now opening up my Five Year Diary of old. I tremble and take a deep breath...

Diary arrived during the summer after 4th Grade, just in time for our summer vacation car trip...

 

Yes, trailors are nice. I should note that not only did I think Brandon Cruz from "The Courtship of Eddie's Father" was grose (sic), but I also thought his name was pronounced "cruzz" like "buzz".

 

5th Grade seems to have been quite traumatic. First off, there was this problem...

 

The much-loved Mrs. Middlebrook left to have a baby, and we ended up with the grose (sic) Miss Shepard. Shudder....

 and then there was...Robbie Dobbs...

Much thought was invested in Robbie Dobbs.

 but then there was this...

Oh Happy Day, indeed!

Fifth Grade Peyton Place

Our next stop in my diary's Sturm und Drang tour of my childhood is 8th Grade, when I next put pen to paper. I will spare you my tiny and almost indecipherable handwriting...

January 29, 1975

Dear Diary,

It's been since 5th Grade when I last wrote you. I decided that it was about time to start again. A lot has happened, but I can't tell you all of it because it would take too much time. Mama and Daddy make me really mad a lot. Mama does more than Daddy. She's always complaining that I'm never doing anything right. She just makes it worse. Everything is changing so fast. Everybody else is changing too. Last summer, almost all of the guys voices changed, and they have all shot up in height. I like a lot of guys and have a lot of boys that are friends, but no boyfriends. It really makes me mad that all of the more popular guys are so predudice [sic] against all of us girls in other cliches [sic] besides there's [sic]. Why is our grade so split up? Now it's better than it was last year, but it's still terrible. There are a lot of more popular girls that are really nice and I can understand why they are popular, but there are also girls (like Claudia) that are perfectly boring and have no personality, yet they are cute and flirty and have a lot of friends, not because they are nice to be around, but because people think that if they are around them, they will be popular. And it probably true. But I'm not going to be a hypocrite!!

Wow. Think I was jealous of Claudia? Much?

August 15, 1975

This summer has been really strange. I really have done a lot, yet I feel as though I haven't done anything. I guess that it is because I really don't know what I want to do, but I know that I'm not satisfied with what I have.

I went to a party at Mark's house. It was fun, and was probably the only time all summer that I've felt satisfied. Mark is a really sweet person, but he's just not what I want. Mary has a terrible crush on him, but I'm afraid that he is beginning to like Flavia.

Of all of the guys in our grade, I think that Blair is probably the sweetest and cares the most about other people's feelings. He is such a love. I think that he thinks that I'm a nice person, and I think of him as a good friend. He is always making cracks about my height. I really don't like them though. It makes me mad that I'm taller than him. We would be a lot better off together if I wasn't.

Oh my, oh my. I can't get no satisfaction. Sadly, I really don't remember the aforementioned Blair ever really paying much of any attention to me. And yes, by this age I was already an Amazonian 5'10". Dances were deeply painful. But despite that...

January 9, 1976

Dear Diary,

I've decided that 1975 was a pretty good year. A lot of changes have happened. I had a lot of problems (I still have them) but I think that I've really matured a lot. I also think that I've made a lot of new friends, and one way of having a good life is having a lot of friends. Here are the major good things that happened to me in 1975 -

1. Teahouse of the August Moon. I had a great time doing this play. All of the people in the cast were wonderful. We were all so close and are still good friends. Joe Evans became a great friend. He goes to Crockett [another high school] and is extremely good looking. There was a lot of backstage fooling around. Kaysie was in it too. She and I always fought over Joe. I was in a lot of other plays too, including 1776 and The Ugly Duckling.

2. Mark's party (mentioned before) was really fun, and so were a lot of other party's [sic]. Mary and I had a party at her house. It was a lot of fun for her and me, but I don't know if it really was for all of the other people. I think it was.

3. The Pizza Place has become a local "hang-out". Mary, Flavia and I go down there often on Saturday nights. One Saturday, we were down there and everybody decided that we should all go somewhere and have a party. Well, Mary somehow let Blair know that Mama and Daddy were out of town and then Blair conned me into letting a bunch of people come over to my house! Robin was the only one who could drive us, so in his Mustang was in the back seat David, Flavia, Me and Mary. Worth and Jimbo were sitting on our laps! In the front seat was Robin, Blair, Keith and some high school guy. On top of them was Kelley. I don't know how we did it, but we had a good time at my house.

I'm fairly sure that my parents never knew about this party. Fairly.

Okay, that's enough for today. I'll spare you senior year. Or maybe I'll just save it for the next blog hop. Andrea? When's that happening? I suggest you head over to Andrea's place and check out more teenage angst!

Did you keep a teenage diary? Please share!