Beneath the Wraps

          When I was little, I used to spin around until I got dizzy and then spin some more.   Especially when I had pleats on.   My skirt or dress would twirl with me.   I thought that was major cool.           I don’t know how old I was when I lost my balance or perhaps I had just spun into the end table.   Either way, I was bleeding from a gash just above my right eye.   I had to have stitches.   As a result I have a small indentation just above my right eye.   Sort of like a dimple.   Small though.   Not actually noticed by many.           I have had some people notice that my right eye does look smaller than my left.   Not a noticeable difference to most people – but those who study my face harder have wondered about it.           In Decemb...

          I am familiar with the word “Hullabaloo” – I have used it before.   Not often.   It’s barely in my vocabulary.   I don’t recall ever saying that word around Jenna.   But she picked it up from somewhere.           She and I classmate were sitting behind me in the car and were talking about “eating the flag”.   What?   She explained that the class had made American flags out of graham crackers, blue and white frosting, red licorice, and chocolate chips.             “Oh, sorry,” she says. “WHITE chocolate chips.”           She then turns to her classmate and says, “Some people in this car don’t believe that white chocolate is really chocolate.   She thinks white chocolate is really just a bunch of hullabaloo”       ...

I had read Corey’s beautiful testimony which he posted on his blog .  Still not allowed to share it in Church – which is really too bad.  It is so powerful and does give insight into acceptance. There were some comments made by a few whose names I hadn’t recognized.  They’d been following Corey’s blog for quite some time but had never made comment until Corey once again mentioned that he might stop blogging. I had told him time and time again that he needed to continue – or needs to rather.  It’s not just my selfish desire to read his eloquent words – he has been making a difference for over six years now.  Followers have seen him struggle and grow and give advice – though he doesn’t mean it that way.  His words just come out so naturally that a reader can’t help but feel some sense of awe. Until Corey’s blog had been pointed out to me – I hadn’t done much research on homosexuality – or same sex attraction rather.  Just because one has SSA...

I may have mentioned before that even though I hadn’t officially started Blogging until the beginning of this year, I had ideas of what I would post – and sometimes I would complete my thoughts and mark it as ready-to-share while others still remain in the undeveloped idea mode. I keep a list on file stored and tucked away until I can find the right words. Sometimes I will be inspired to visit one of my ideas and will add to it or change it around or combine it with another idea that I had.   And some I wonder if I will end up posting at all. Some I’ve actually deleted. Most of the time I have posted, I have used the copy and paste method.   There were two times I posted directly.   From my perspective the direct post always seems to come out in microscopic form .   I prefer the font I have used with Microsoft word which I can read without trying to blow up the font size (as I often do with lengthy emails that I’ve received) I sent one of my ideas ...

          Since we were children, mom has made it a tradition to take each us out for lunch or dinner on his or her birthday.   I don’t know how old we were when the tradition started.   We used to go out as an entire family and gradually just the birthday child.           This continued for the grandchildren after Patrick and his wife started having children.   I remember going out with the oldest two with the entire family – which gradually turned into just Patrick’s family and then just the grandchild.             I know my youngest nephew was four when my mom took him out.   His mom and I just happened to be with them.   I don’t know where we went to eat (probably somewhere exciting – like McDonald’s) but I do remember him choosing a pair of green overall shorts that probably only fit him just that one day. ...

My dad had had a series of strokes later in life.   Some of them were so “small” that they went undetected.   The first one I remember had temporarily paralyzed the left side of his jaw.   Not realizing the magnitude of what was happening, we made jokes about it. Because he was such a quiet man, we commented that his jaw was sliding off his face as he never used it. It eventually returned to his normal appearance.   It wasn’t until later on that we learned his downward jaw had been the result of one of the strokes he had had. Dad started keeping odd hours.    He’d be awake while the rest of us were asleep and vise-versa.    He was in need of care 24-7 and it became too overwhelming at times.    We were told that the insurance he had would not cover a live-in aide – but they did have a list of nursing homes.    We did our best to avoid it, but it finally got to the point that we needed assistance.    I don’t kn...

Roland loves to cook.   He enjoys baking.   The kitchen is his domain.   Overall he is a really good cook. I can follow a recipe (usually) but I don’t enjoy cooking.   I do enjoy eating though.   Unfortunately it shows.           When he was working on commission, Roland cooked dinner all of the time.   It was great!   Especially when he would get a hold of abandoned recipe books and feel inspired to make something different every night.   I didn’t always like what he fixed, but for the most part it was awesome.           He has since found a job that pays an income that we can actually budget with.   But because he is required to do at least 40 hours a week,   I am now in charge of making the meals.   Roland doesn’t complain exactly, but always asks why I did this or why I didn’t do that or gives me helpful suggestions on how I can ...

          This post is dedicated to my sister, Kayla and our sister-in-law, Sunny.           Kayla has always been the strong silent type – both physically and spiritually.   She has always had tremendous faith.   She is a survivor.           When she was younger she could detect the slightest movement of a wrapper being pulled away from a food item (usually something unhealthy like ding dongs or cupcakes or m&ms) She wouldn’t even be in the house, but in the neighborhood.   Unwrap that piece of candy, and she would appear through the door.   But it had to be real.   We could never get her to come simply by crinkling cellophane or foil           She would say to my mom, “Can I have a piece of gum?” (or whatever)        ...

                    Jenna has always had a quite a highly active imagination – which is good.  She was able to turn the broken lounge chairs into a slide and used my exercise equipment as her swing.  It kept her entertained.           Not long ago she told me a story which started:           “Once upon a time, long ago, in a refrigerator, there lived some fruits and vegetables.  Each thought they should be the ruler of the fridge. . . “           As the story unfolds it had an apparent Romeo and Juliette theme going.  Only at the end the carrot and the apple run off together leaving the other fruits and vegetables wishing they had been nicer to one another.           She would ...

            Roland has six children – nine if you count the three that were never born – which he often does.   They’ve all been given names – though I doubt we’ll be raising the unborn in the hereafter.           Biff is the oldest.   He has brown eyes and looks just like his paternal grandfather.   Spitting image – only taller – which is saying a lot as Biff’s biggest hang-up about life seems to have been with his small size.   He really is not that tall compared to your average guy – but he is taller than those on both Roland’s side and his mom’s side.           Tony seems to get his looks from his mom’s side – though I haven’t really seen it.   The receding hairline is definitely from her side.   Though Tony towers over his mom’s small sized family (small individuals – the family itself is actually quite large in number...

          Overall I think the knit is a prettier stitch.  I generally like the feel and am impressed with the eye-catching cable.  It just seems more polished to me or something.  But I would rather work with just one hook building one loop at a time than two piercing needles that contain all loops and can easily slip and unravel.           Seems silly really as knitting has only two basic stitches: knitting and purling, whereas crocheting has a variety of stitches which can become complicated to my simple mind – just from reading the directions that is.  I think I do well with a hands on. Not always.  But if I have a personal coach explaining or showing what I’m doing, I can pick it up a lot quickly than trying to figure it out on my own.           When I was younger (much younger) my mom crocheted two beautiful coa...

I have a friend named Heather (actual name) who has this blog  in which she will often ask questions at the end of her posts.   Three of my answers have been so weighed with detail that I answered by email rather than leave a comment on the post, as some of my comments turn out to be larger than the post itself.   The first question I remember actually sending an email for was when she asked, “What are your triggers?”   At first I couldn’t think of one.   It was ten days before the Christmas tree skirt came out.   There was my trigger.   A horrible memory that I should just get rid of. And yet it’s a busy time of year and replacing the tree skirt is never a priority – and it’s probably petty of me to feel the need to replace it anyway. Before you can understand the trigger itself, you’ll need some background.           All too soon after the boys’ mother passed, Roland decided to marry S...