Beneath the Wraps

            Most mornings seem to be routine for me.   I make sure that Jenna is dressed and has breakfast before we leave the house to catch the bus.   I take the bus with her because she doesn’t have the confidence in herself to ride it alone – and truthfully I think I would feel neurotic not knowing if she actually got off the bus or made it to school, etc.             I walk her to the grounds behind the school and turn around to head back to the bus stop on the other side of the main road.   Occasionally I will take the train somewhere – like the post office or the library.   Usually I just return home except for the one day I went out to see Kayla – which I need to do again. Jenna always wants to play verbal games as we’re riding the bus.   This morning she asked if I would come up with sentences in English that she could trans...

I was planning on hanging laundry today – two loads at least.   I looked outside to discover I have only two lines – and certainly more than two lines worth of clothes.   If it was mid –summer, two lines might be enough.   As I have mentioned in at least one other post, by the time I finish hanging the laundry in the blazing heat, they are ready to take back down. But today there is a cool breeze which is nice against the blazing heat.   Blazing?   Summer hasn’t officially started.   Do I dare say the sun is blazing when I know the heat from the sun right now is nothing compared to what it will become. Our washing machine needs to be cleaned.   I can smell it.   If I can smell it, it must be pretty bad.   I couldn’t smell the dog when everybody else was commenting on his stink.   I didn’t know.   I took him into the front yard and hosed him down and used a dog shampoo.   I remember when I could smell, t...

From my childhood, I remember seeing and hearing trains.   I remember being excited whenever a train would pass on the road and we would have to stop and wait for it.   My brother, Patrick, and I would often count how many cars were on each train.   My parents didn’t seem to be as excited whenever the arms of the railroad came down. A child’s perspective is so much different than that of an adult.   Mostly what we saw were cargo trains.   There were few encounters with passenger trains.    My grandma who lived in San Francisco would sometimes take the train.   We would go to pick her up downtown at the train station.        Patrick and I had also ridden on a train from Utah to Colorado.    We’d gone with my mom and my other grandma. I thought that it was exciting!   Especially going through tunnels.   And there were some LOOONNNGGG tunnels.   As I got older, I don’t recall...

Biff has always kept his body in great shape inside and out.   I wish I could say the same for his room.   I don’t have a picture of how it looked before I started cleaning.     These pictures truly represent half-way done.    Anyone who has been in Biff’s room can tell you that this is the cleanest it has looked from the day we moved in. Actually it was clean one other time.   I took a picture for evidence.   But somehow I have misplaced that evidence.   Doesn’t matter.   I told Jenna that when David moved out, she could move into his room.   Not that her room looks any better I had eight garbage bags FULL of Biff’s stuff (clothes mostly) I think three or four full of garbage.     And four loads of towels.   FOUR LOADS.   This is a fraction of what I washed         Jenna’s room was fine when we moved in four and a half ye...

          As a child, my perspective of Mothers’ Day was certainly different than it is now.   Mothers’ Day meant going to the store with dad to pick out a gift to give to mom.   Mothers’ Day meant singing to my mom on Sunday.   Mothers’ Day meant going to Grandma’s – often seeing my cousins.   Mothers’ Day meant more than just hot dogs for dinner – though from a child’s point of view that may have been the more satisfactory dinner. I don’t know how my mom felt about Mothers’ Day.   I think that she enjoyed being honored.   Did she feel honored?   My mom, overall, was a positive person.   I don’t remember when she wasn’t smiling or showed gratitude on Mothers’ Day.   I know she enjoyed being a mother.   And she enjoyed visits from the grandchildren on Mothers’ Day. Peggy, who lived across the street, loathed Mothers’ Day – or so that seemed to be what was projected. ...

          I don’t know why I didn’t notice that Jenna didn’t have a hat on when we left the house.   It was drizzling.   I did have an umbrella.   But we hadn’t used it before we got on the bus.   We did when we got off.   Wet rain fell upon the umbrella that somewhat shielded us both.   I was willing to walk her to the front doors of the school, as I knew she would be allowed in the building yesterday.   But she didn’t want to go inside.   I asked her if she would like my hat.   She said no at first but then changed her mind.   So did I.   I kept the hat and let her keep the umbrella. It was a gamble on my part.   Last year her umbrella got stepped on and broke.   She lost my green one that I let her use.   We both got umbrellas at the beginning of this school year.   The wind tore the fabric from one of my spokes.   She misplaced hers. ...

I understand the desire for those who wish to segregate Mothers’ Day Jenna asks, “What would you like for Mothers’ Day?” “I would like you to clean your room?” “No, really.   What do you want?” “That is what I want.   To have my daughter show me some responsibility.” “Mooooommmm.” Are you honoring my motherhood?   What are we celebrating exactly?   Taking a break from the dishes and finding them in the sink on Monday is NOT taking a break.   I don’t even think half the chores I do is what makes up a mother. I am certainly not a housewife.   I did not tie the knot with any building – especially this one.   I’ve looked into home improvement.   But the expenses all add up and I need to budget for just one thing at a time – not empty out my bank account and then some. They got me chocolates.   I know because Jenna told me.   She and her friend were wrapping the boxes and came to m...