Spontaneous People Don’t Plan

Mom has always taught her children how to be supportive of one another.  We’ve gone to baby blessings, missionary farewells and homecomings, advancement in the priesthood, plays, sports; I suppose I went to more events when I was single.

Sunny is awesome.  She always lets us know ahead of schedule: We’ve got this planned.  Please come.  And we have.  We make plans to fit it into our schedule.  And then there’s my family . . .

It’s got to be hard to be one of my siblings if they want to be involved but aren’t given much notice for birthday celebrations, graduations, parties – even our own wedding.

 I can’t find the post, but I think I wrote it down somewhere that Roland and I changed our wedding date at least nine times.  It wasn’t that big of an issue for me in the beginning.  After all we had met only three days before he proposed.  THAT IS OUTRAGEOUS! 

I have chosen not to go into detail at this time – but perhaps some time in a future post – but we had changed our wedding date several times before I asked the bishop one Sunday morning if he could just marry us either that night or the next.  So everyone (including the groom) who was invited to our wedding was given only eight hours notice (or less) and everyone we had invited came.

But my family has missed out on at least two of Biffs’ birthday parties.  I just don’t ever know his schedule until that week (at best) perhaps we set a bad example by getting married the way we did.  For the boys don’t plan (although two of them married girls who did) they just say, “Hey” or “By the way”

So went Biff’s party last night.  I was really hoping we could do family pictures, but Tony and Rochelle have been visiting her family.  I realize they have other commitments and are short on time.  And I don’t know what time zone their clock is set to – but they are usually always 4-5 hours behind what we were told.  Except yesterday . . .

Evidently they made it to the park on time – but not the parking lot where I said to meet.  They walked around for an hour I guess before they thought to call.

Jenna’s been putting her life on hold for Tony, the same way Randy still puts his life on hold waiting for Roland.  Not me.  I have always told my boys, “I’m leaving at such and such a time.  If you’re here, you may go with me.  You’re not here, you don’t go or you find another way.”

Randy learned early on that I was serious about a definite time.  But only when someone else has planned.  I’ve tried to plan.  But it is so hard when those you live with still don’t.

“Corner on the Market!”

Patrick has always been a game collector.  I think with every passing year, there were always at least two games to be added to the collections. We played lots of games as a family when I was growing up.  Even after Patrick and Sunny were married, we would continue to play.  Some games more than others.

Pit is a card game that I don’t actually remember playing since Patrick and Sunny were newly married.  I hadn’t introduced it to my own family until last night when Randy and Carrie had us over for dinner.  For the most part brother pitted against brother.  The bear and the bull both got passed around and ended up in Randy’s hand as I called, “Corner on the Market” and Biff was laughing so hard I thought that he would split.  I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard while playing Pit. 

It really is a fun game...

Blame It on the Ghost

          Almost every household in America has at least one ghost living with them.  Since being married to Roland, I have encountered three.  Their names are “It Wasn’t Me”, “I Don’t Know” and “I Didn’t Do It”.  The ghost who gets blamed the most in this house is “It Wasn’t Me”.  “I Don’t Know” received most of the blame in our last house – though “It Wasn’t Me” seemed to share a lot of blame as well.

          I find it interesting that about 20 minutes before Jenna returned home from school yesterday, I retrieved a hand mirror from the coffee table and put it in the bathroom.  She couldn’t have been home more than five minutes before I found the mirror on the coffee table again – in almost the exact same position it has been only 25 minutes earlier.

          “Why is that mirror on the coffee table?” I asked.

          She didn’t even hesitate.  She immediately pinned the blame on “It Wasn’t Me” – a ghost that she and Tony seem all too familiar with.  Tony was also a big fan of “I Didn’t Do It” while Randy and Biff seemed more inclined to blame “I Don’t Know” 

          Once in a while Jenna and Biff try to blame one another – which usually doesn’t go over really big as they rarely ever spend time in the house during the same hours.  Of course she is asleep for the most part while he is at work.  And he tries to sleep during the time that she is gone to school. 

          I wouldn’t be surprised if “I Don’t Know” has moved in with Randy and Carrie. Though it’s just the two of them, I think he still tries to pin the blame on “I Don’t Know”  Fortunately Carrie is onto him.

          “I Didn’t Do It” shows up once in a while.  Perhaps that ghost is just a friend to “It Wasn’t Me” who has not actually shown any kind of responsibility.  No one does.  Responsibility?  What’s that?

Thoughts for Today’s Post

          I took Highness for a walk for the first time this month.  Poor dog.  (I've been going to mom's, trying to assist at Jenna's school or the cannery and Biff has taken on two full time jobs leaving Highness somewhat neglected)
          The weather has been awesomely beautiful once the sun is out.  When it’s down, it can get quite cold. But during the day – I often get hot and will turn the heat off and open a window.

                                                    

          I don’t recall a November ever where I could get away with wearing just a sweatshirt over my clothes.  But then we had wonderful weather last Christmas.  I took a picture of Jenna in some new clothes that had been sent – she was outside by the pine tree.  No coat. 

          I was taking pictures on a daily basis for about a week and had posted them to facebook with date attached.  It snowed hard by nightfall on the 26^th and some pictures looked like the typical postcard Christmas of Utah.  But we had lots of “no coat” days as well.  Now that was bizarre.

          I remember a few Aprils when it had snowed.  There was one day in 2003 when there was quite a bit of snow actually.

          Ooki had come to us at the end of August 2002.  He asked if he would need to buy boots for the winter.  We’d been experiencing craziness of weather for the last decade at least, and I told him that if he made a purchase toward some boots that he might not ever need them, but if he didn’t buy the boots, then he would definitely need them.

          Ooki chose to ease the hardship of shoveling snow and whatever else is hated about the winter season as he bought himself not only a heavy coat but a pair of boots as well.  He did use the coat for four or five months – often with his flip flops, but only wore the boots twice that I remember.  And I don’t remember if that day in April was one of them.

          I took my three boys to the park. Ooki did not go with us – I think because of other obligations.  Ooki was rarely at home just to be home.  If we had something specific going – he made effort to be there.  But our going to the park was spontaneous.  And perhaps he just didn’t like the idea of the snow.  I can’t remember.

          We didn’t have a toboggan.  The boys took a long piece of cardboard, some plastic covering that had fallen from our covered car port, and Randy’s dune buggy (that one I still don’t understand) and used them to slide down the hill.  And I took a couple of rolls of pictures (though digital did exist – not in my possession) and probably would have tons more if Ooki had gone with us (he took tons of pictures; even posted them on his website which I don’t think he even has any more)

         The snow had completely melted by the next day.

          I really wish there was a way to stop the weather the way it is right now – and just keep it all year round.  Nothing warmer.  Definitely nothing colder.  No snow – at least on my roads.  No ice.  Spectacular elements.  That would really be sweet.

          Yesterday I was at my mom’s.  She must own a thousand books.  Over a hundred in her backroom.  And I would guess more than twice that in the spare room.  Some in her front room.  Some collectables.  Though not most. 

          I think there are three or four members who would be willing just to throw them all always – not even donate them.  Just get rid of them.  And I’m certain there are tons that Corey would like to have.  And he is probably the only one who would have room to house them.

          My main interest right now is the Norman Rockwell book that is too big to be shelved and too heavy to put on one’s lap.  If Corey can make a nice home for it, he can have it.  Otherwise I would like it.  I really like Norman Rockwell.

          On Friday mom and I will have lunch with a friend that we haven’t seen for over 30 years.  I don’t think mom will remember her.  But maybe once we get to talking?  She and mom used to watch each other’s children.  Or her two oldest girls would come over and babysit Patrick and me.  Corey doesn’t remember as he was only a toddler when they moved.

          I guess that’s all I have to say right now.  I have some organizing to do.

Dogs

Recently I made a scrapbook page of Jenna posed with various dogs. They have all been good dogs – except one.  Our first dog ran away before I had even learned that I was pregnant with Jenna.  Houdini was our favorite dog.

I had worked with a women who was a humanitarian and on a mission to save all animals – dogs in particular.  She asked me if I’d be willing to take a dog.  And the boys had always wanted one – and finally we had the room.  We went to take a look at the dog before we moved to the house I had just purchased.

My boys commented that the dog was fat.  They were more interested in the dog’s sister (who was not available for the taking)  apparently a fat dog was better than no dog.  I told my co-worker we’d take it – but first she’d have to wait for us to move into our house before she brought the dog.  But actually the dog was brought to us on first day of the move – so we hadn’t actually settled in yet.

Houdini was an overweight borderline collie/Australian shepherd – who when shaved of all of his hair looked like he could be part greyhound. A board was used to block the entrance from the driveway to the backyard.  It was only because of his weight that Houdini was unable to escape. 

  

Once the boys slimmed him down, Houdini would make escapes from the yard as he often went in search of the boys.  That’s not the real name that our dog answered to, for he had been given a name already long before he came to us. But it is the name we would have given him had he not already come with one.  And actually what we had called him that when we make reference to him.

 Houdini was a larger dog and any gaps that we could find in the yard seemed much too small for his body to slide through. And yet he was always making these astounding escapes that would make us scratch our heads.

Our boys were out of town and we left Houdini with a sitter while we went to meet the boys.  Houdini made his escape and was never rescued.  The sitter felt bad, though I assured her that it wasn’t her fault.  I had warned her about Houdini - but there are some things that some people don't take upon face value - and she may have ended up even more floored than we were.

My oldest son asked if I was pregnant.  At the time I didn’t realize that I was.  But I suspect Houdini knew.  It was after Houdini was gone that I understood why he had been sticking so close to me.

We didn’t get our second dog until after Jenna was born.  Roland had wanted to get a dog that could protect me and Jenna while he was away.  And we’d gone to animal shelters in search of something – nothing specific in mind.  

We happened to be at the pound when Roland received a phone call from a business partner who inquired about the background noise.  By coincidence he had a dog and a newborn though he didn’t seem to have room for both and perhaps we’d be interested in taking his dog? So we went to check her out.

Daisy – our only female dog.  Also fat.  Sweet. Not too bright – reminded me of Odie (from the Garfield comic strips) – she was actually younger than I had thought.  Such a lazy dog for still being a puppy – though she was an awfully big puppy. 

Lab mix with a what looked like a St. Bernard head –or so thought my oldest son and me.  St. Bernard’s are big dogs, though I suppose she could have been part horse. But she did not seem to offer any protection for us – oh, her size alone would throw off a few people.  But overall she was not a threat.  She was a homebody.  Never wandered off to explore the way the rest of our dogs have done.

Houdini had always hidden from the noise of the fireworks – where Daisy would literally stand on top of them.  Crazy dog.  Lazy Crazy Daisy.  Sometimes I think that’s why her previous owners named her so.  Rhymed with some of her characteristics.

All three boys were in high school – busier than they had been with Houdini.  Daisy still wasn’t getting the attention she deserved. Jenna was my priority – not Daisy.  Two years after we got her we learned her previous owners had been looking around for another dog.  We gave Daisy back to them. Evidently they had learned to make time for her as they had slimmed her down so much she literally looked like another dog.

And then there’s Patches a Great Pyrenees.  I don’t actually consider Patches to be a family dog.  He was the only dog that came into our family as a puppy.  He was a Christmas gift to my eldest son from his then girlfriend – who assured us that he would not become too large of a dog.  She must have been comparing it to a grizzly bear. 

It actually took him a while to come up with a name for the few week old puppy. Originally our son had come up with Patch – but his girlfriend had dated a guy who’d gone by Patch and didn’t want the reminders – but Jenna had already started calling the dog “Patches” and that is what I called him – until he ran away.

I don’t remember how long he was gone before my son and his girlfriend found him and returned him to our house.  By then most of his “patches” had seemed to disappear and we referred to him as “Buddy” which is the name my son had finally settled on.  Though neither Jenna nor I considered him to be our “buddy”  What a disobedient dog.

My son has always loved horse sized dogs and actually had that with Buddy as he continued to grow and grow and eat and eat and grow some more.  I remember my brother looking out the window three months after Christmas, asking if that was our dog.  I said yes – though Buddy was just a puppy.  My brother looked again and said, “That ain’t no puppy”

Seems like our oldest son was spending his entire paycheck on Buddy.  First with a dog house that Buddy would never go into – not even when he was puppy sized.  He was a weird dog – always buried beneath the boards which leaned against our house.  We could always find him there when it was raining – but loved the snow.  Our youngest son tried building him a larger house from the boards he used as shelter – Buddy wouldn’t use that either.

Jenna learned to love the dog house.  When Buddy went through his “chewing” stage, Jenna hid all her toys in the doghouse knowing that they would be protected as the dog would never go in.  I thought that was really quite clever of her.

I thought it would be great for her to have a companion – until he got too big for her – still playing like a puppy but outweighing Jenna and pushing her down (which she didn’t like) and actually turned out to be longer than my oldest son. 

Buddy wanted to play 24/7.  He was always barking.  My son would often keep Buddy in his room at night so the neighbors wouldn’t complain – but even if he was inside the house, the neighbors would still blame any barking noise on his dog.

Biff tried.  He really did.  But though he had time for a normal dog – he didn’t have time for an undisciplined puppy. On the first week of October, my son’s girlfriend (who had broken off the girlfriend/boyfriend thing and asked for a more platonic relationship; we’d see her just as often – but I think she came to our house just see Buddy and not so much for Biff) took Buddy back to her home (which was in another county)  We never saw either one of them again.

          Buddy was the only puppy.  Never doing that again.

          The economy has been unkind to so many people.  We lost our house and were forced to move to a much smaller house in another city.  Jenna has always had a lot of friends but seems a lot more challenged in the current city were we presently reside.

Two years after we moved in, we went dog shopping again.  This time we brought home an older dog whose previous owner discovered health issues on her part that made it difficult for her to take care of her dog anymore. 

And it’s not as though Highness (not his given name – but seems to fit as he seems to be under the impression that he is prince or king of our domain; very high maintenance) doesn’t demand much time – although he does enjoy going for walks.

I truly believe his last owner tied a bib around his neck and allowed him to sit at the dinner table with her. What a finicky eater.  I don’t know who is more finicky – Highness or Jenna.  If I did not know better I would think Highness was/is a cat.

          Highness (a beagle) seems to be a cross between Houdini and Daisy.  Not quite as active as Houdini – but sweet – very sweet.  And naps almost as much as Daisy did.  We all enjoy Highness’s company.  Even my oldest son who would still like a horse sized dog is happy with our actually smallest dog. 

          My scrapbook page also includes Max and Bear.  Max, who we see on occasion outside the library and Bear who belongs to our hairdresser.  Both dogs are bigger than Jenna – but not puppies who don’t know their own strength.  Jenna has enjoyed playing with both.  Often both she and my oldest son wish Highness was more active – but I’m happy with him the way he is – and I’m the one who spends the most time with him.  Jenna loves him, too. 

My Three Sons

       
         When I got married for the first (and only) time, I not only got a husband,  I had a ready-made family. Our boys were 11, 12 and 14 (we were married six weeks prior to the 12 year old turning 13)

          I met the youngest one first.  My mom and I had gone over to a quadplex unit to visit someone.  We had knocked at the door but there was no reply.  I don’t know if Randy called “Hi” to us from the tree before or after we knocked.  He smiled brightly but gave no information about himself nor inquired who we were.    As it turned out the sister we were searching for had moved out and Randy was actually living at that particular unit with his two brothers and dad.

          Randy was ten going on eleven.  We had the same size hands at the time.  He shared a room with his two older brothers.  His part of the bunk and dresser top were spotless.  Randy was (still is) very neat.   Very polite kid.  Somewhat of a con artist.  Full of smiles and gratitude.

          Tony was twelve.  Very insecure.  Very much feeling the need to be accepted.  Very much wanting a stable family.

          The first time that I met Tony was inside the quadplex unit.  He had set up pop bottles at the end of the hall, using them as bowling pins as he hurled a ball towards them over the bumpy carpet.

Tony was (and still is) very different from his brothers. When we took the boys out to purchase suits for Sunday wear, our oldest and youngest went for a conservative look that one often does find in Church.  Tony wanted the loud royal blue with pinstripes, a suit designed for either the stage or very young pimps.  We had discouraged him from buying the suit that he truly wanted. (Perhaps we should have purchased it for him)

Biff actually turned 14 before Roland and I were married.  He’s always been big into health and fitness, worked out all the time, had muscles and sparkling teeth.  We had given him three tubes of toothpaste for his birthday and sent him and his brothers through a maze to play laser tag. 

All three boys had fun, but Biff was especially grateful for the toothpaste – which I’m sure took him less than a month to finish.  Upon seeing Biff’s gift, Tony panicked.  “I don’t think I’d want a shirt or tooth paste for my birthday.”

I just smiled at him and said, “And I would never get you toothpaste.  You and Biff are two entirely different people.”

I seriously didn’t even know Biff could talk for about three or four months.  Very quiet.  Always smiled.  Always put himself to bed at six and then would arise at four and walk over to the junior high and run around the track until the school doors opened.

What terrible parents we were.  It was rare that we ever got up to see our boys off to school.  And sometimes Randy would play hooky out of boredom.  He was the only one I didn’t worry about academically.  And he was the only one who made a big deal about seeing ALL of his teachers.  Which was hard. Especially when I had all three of them in junior high and 21 different teachers to see (all by myself as Roland was working )

Our boys are 17, 16 and 15 years older than Jenna.  Now they are men, all in their 20’s.

           

          Tony was the first of the three to get married.  He had joined the army and had proposed right before he went in.  Has sparkling white teeth now – and I have given him toothpaste as a gift.  Lots of gifts are different than when he was fourteen.

          Soon I will be a grandmother as he and his wife are expecting their first baby. 

          Randy goes to school full time.  Assists with orientation and enrollment.  Many things seem to come so natural and easy for him.  He catches on quickly – like a duck to water.  He is definitely the most extraverted of the three. And now he is engaged.  I will have another daughter-in-law midway through this year.

          Biff has had jobs off and on.  Nothing stable – mostly due to the economy.  Lot’s of temp jobs and trying to pass the ABVAB as the army would definitely provide benefits.  Being paid to work out, for one.

          He’s tried his hand at relationships.  Biff is sweet and has some really great qualities, but not everybody sees that.  Biff is an animal charmer.  The barkiest dogs will greet Biff as though he is a long lost friend.  I have never seen any animal behave mean around Biff.

          He is awesome at putting puzzles together or finding the difference in hidden pictures.  He is a loner.  Often he just chooses to be that way.  But sometimes he feels lonely.  He’s got some great one on one social skills around certain people.  Unfortunately many view his overall social skills as being awkward.

          Jenna assures me that Biff is the greatest “tucker-inner”  and he is definitely strong. As of now he has a “platonic girlfriend” They’re really good friends, and I would LOVE to have her as a daughter-in-law, but at this point I don’t believe that anything more will come of it except for being friends.

And there’s a very brief description of my three sons.