Beneath the Wraps

A truck will be coming around sometime today to collect used items.   We have TONS of clothes.   On Tuesday I forced Roland to clean out the closet with me – as a large percentage of the clothes was/are his.   He doesn’t like the way his 20–30 white shirts have yellowed, so we put them in a separate pile to be boiled.   When I went through the hamper to find some more whites, I noticed that the hamper was reaching the overflow stage and figured I should do something about it.           Normally I wait until Roland leaves before I sort the clothes – not to crowd him out while I am sorting.   It is actually best if everyone has left already and I have the entire house to myself.   Only I have been leaving the house, too.   I have been tending to my mom and sister and have forgotten all about the laundry.             Laundry is not even that bi...

          Everyday school crossing guards put their lives on the line – whether intentional or not. With the guard at Jenna’s school it is intentional.   Oh, sure,   there is more than one crossing guard, but Mr. Ruthless is stationed at the main street populated with cars and drivers with led feet.           Drivers might not respect Mr. Ruthless, but I think as I parent I would feel honored to have him as Jenna’s crossing guard (if we were near enough to go on foot) but because my usual route is to drop her off behind the school,   my encounters with Mr. Ruthless have been brief.           Mr. Ruthless is one who will intentionally put his life on the line.   I am floored whenever I see it happen.   And yet I can’t help feeling a sense of pride that he is seriously willing to lay down his life for our children. ...

          I used to think that a sore throat was the absolute worse.   I would rather have a headache, a backache, nausea, or sinus infection rather than a sore throat.   Or so I thought. A sore throat never made me disoriented. Have you ever seen the movie Innerspace?   As the story unfolds, we learn that Dennis Quade’s character has agreed to being shrunk and injected into the body of a rabbit.   But due to circumstances beyond his control, he is inserted into Martin Short’s body by mistake.           In order for him to see what Martin Short is seeing, DQ lands his vessel onto the optical nerve and then clamps on the seeing device tool.   On his initial land, MS experiences irritation.   Something is bugging him just behind the eye.   But then comes the clamp.   MS screams out in pain.           ...

For those readers who may not recognize any of the names in the title, let me introduce you to a very brief history.   The character of Dr. Jekyll was created before 1931.   He was a lab scientist who used himself as a guinea pig to test a potion which he had created.   I don’t recall what it is the potion was supposed to do, but as a result of his taking the potion, Dr. Jekyll would take on another – much darker – personality that was not the same as the one most people were familiar with. His alter ego became known as Mr. Hyde.   So even though Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were theoretically the same person – sharing the same physical identity (or body I guess) the personalities were very different.   Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is science fiction. Shirley Ardel Mason (1923 – 1998) was an actual person.   She’d been both physically and mentally abused by her mother.   Shirley had gone to psychiatrist Dr. Cornelia Wilbur in the 1950’s as there w...

Jenna does like to fold laundry, do dishes, sweep, mop.   She even likes to clean the bathtub and scrub the toilet.   But it is ever so painful to get her to clean up after herself – usually when her stuff is scattered all over the living room or her own bedroom.   That is the worst.   I just don’t know what incentive to use to get her motivated.   I’ve tried everything – rewards when she does it, removing items when she doesn’t. We honestly have more of her belongings out in the shed than we do in her room. Getting her to practice her handwriting has been a big chore as well.   She’ll draw, read, study, tell stories and play learning games.   But getting her to write anything (or print in her case) is on ongoing battle. She is competitive.   When the school was invited to participate in a handwriting contest, she came home all excited – and I thought “great – incentive” I’m afraid it didn’t last.   It was still a huge st...

          “My dad reminded me of a tree – always present, steady and strong, but silent and still.   A person has to notice the tree.   It’s not going to make a big fuss over a person.   It will just quietly make a shady spot and keep it there day after day until someone needs it.   I loved my dad.   He loved me. ”   - from Palace Beautiful by Sara DeFord Williams           As I read these words I thought of my own dad who would silently support us from behind the stage – never wanting to be in the limelight himself.   He may not have been as mighty as an oak – for an oak tree stands out.   An oak tree gets noticed.           My dad was noticed by some – many who admired his quiet strength.   And yet there were many who really hadn’t noticed that he was there – because he was so quiet. ...

          I admire those who have the talent of decorating cakes which appeal to the eye.   I have seen waterfalls cascading over islands, mermaids swimming in a lagoon, realistic looking animals and mighty castles.   I have a hard time just getting a cake to look like a cake.           I don’t claim ever having made a cake from scratch.   It’s quite satisfying just to know that I can do it from the box.   It’s always a surprise to the family when they learn that it was me and not Roland who made it.   But usually the presentation alone tells you which one of us made it.           I greased the pans I used for the last cake I made.   I greased them rather well, I thought.   But neither came out terrifically smooth.   One broke in the process.           I made ...