Outfits that Attract Grime

Magnetic Clothing – also known as Jinx, Cursed and Gremlin clothing: certain shirts, pairs of pants, blouses, dresses, etc. that attract food or dirt within less than ten minutes after being applied to one’s body.

  I don’t know that everybody has at least one article of magnetic clothing, but I know several people do.  I have possessed such articles since infancy, I would imagine.  Though I don’t actually remember any examples until my early teens: white cotton pants, comfortable to wear – attracted dirt like you wouldn’t believe.  If there were any spills, any marred areas that I may have brushed against, any food item within a ten mile radius – they would be attracted and adhere themselves (and I also believed multiplied in size) my white pants – until finally I was at the point of “Why bother?  Really?”

Today it is the army shirt that Tony and Rochelle had sent me for my birthday last year.  Our washing machine has seen it more than my body has.  I don’t think I’ve ever made it a full minute – until yesterday. I don’t how Tony and Rochelle would feel about my having made their thoughtful present into part of my garden attire.  But as it just seems to magnetize dirt anyway, I might as well just use it in the dirt.

Omigosh Mishaps in the Garden

    By no means am I a gardener.  Don’t know as I ever had the desire to be.  If I did, it was when I was younger.  Like grammar school younger.  And the sun didn’t seem to faze me as its heat wrapped itself around my body like an unwanted blanket – suffocating me.  I’d rather be indoors with the air conditioning and not pulling weeds in the garden.

    It seems the wind has blown some grass seed into our garden.  And the miracle grow is doing wonders on the grass and the beans and peppers.  But the grass is not a part of our garden and so I have been pulling up blades.  I can dig up the roots (well, some of them) if they are in the isle of the garden, but if they are sprouting in the same row as the plants (or some still seeds) they can’t be dug up as well.  

    Every day there are blades of grass.  Everyday I tug at the blades and dig and rake.  I am frustrated when they are still attached to the earth with roots so long they must reach to the center of the earth.  We need the plants to spread their roots.  How can they if the grass blades have such long roots?

    The pigweed pulls out easily.  When I am done pulling and tugging and digging, I will rake the area over.  It is then when I learn how well my digging has (or has not paid) I can tell the blades and weeds from the beans and peppers.  But I am still having a problem telling the onions apart from the grass blades.  So I know that I am not getting it all on that particular end of the garden.

      But the weeds are not my biggest obstacle.  I learned that fighting with the net has become my biggest challenge.  We put two up over the garden and one over the sad looking cantaloupe to keep the birds and dogs out.  Don’t know about the birds and the dog, but I’m thinking that if I trip over or rip the nets any further, they will keep me out.  Gardening is such an incredible pain.  May our produce be worth it.

Another Story by Jenna

Her last day of school was Thursday.  But yesterday she wanted to PLAY school - with real tests and real homework.  She wrote a story about aliens eating her homework.  I like the story this story that I found.  She wrote it last year.

The Shoe and the Sock

By Jenna

One short evening sock and shoe met. 

Sock asked, “Are you shoe?”

Shoe said the same.

Sock said, “Why do I always have to smell you?  You smell!”

And shoe said, “Well you smell, too.”

“I do NOT!!” said sock, “You do.”

“No, you do.”

“Getting angry won’t help,” said sock

They decided to switch places. They said they would switch for a week. For a while they were living the life.

Sock had become more popular as no one had ever seen her as a shoe before

Shoe started becoming more popular as no one had ever seen a shoe worn under a sock before.

Then things started going wrong.  Sock started getting holes and shoe felt  uncomfortable with a sock covering him all the time.  And they just didn’t know what to do.

Just then pillow said, “Whatchya doin’?”

Shoe said, “Not much.”

Sock said, “Trying to figure out something.”

“Maybe I could help,” said Pillow. “I’ve seen you two trying to be each other and from what I can see neither one of you is happy about the switch.  Everything has a purpose. Sock, you’re a sock because we need our feet warm.”

“And that’s another thing, ” said Sock.  “Feet stink.”

Pillow continued, “Shoe, you’re a shoe because sock needs something to keep her warm. But more importantly you prevent sock from getting dirty and worn out so quickly”

“You are warm.” Sock admitted.

Pillow said, “The girl who sleeps on me is warm, too.  I like when she rests her head on me.”

Blanket said, “I would like the girl to rest her head on me.  Would you like to switch places?”

Pillow asked, “Have you not heard me explain to sock and shoe that everything has its purpose.  We are all designed to provide comfort to the girl.  Mine is for her to rest her head upon – or on occasion she has pressed me against her back and the wall.  Blanket, you provide warmth for her when she is cold.  You are much larger than me.  I could never cover her the way that you do.  Just as sock can never fully cover shoe.  It’s her purpose to keep the girl’s feet covered and protect her feet from direct contact with the shoe.” 

                                                                             jfralcd

It’s Okay if You Want to Celebrate her Birthday Twice This Month

          I’m not really sure why I was the privileged one put on the mailing list for Alpine Ridge.  Perhaps I had made the request – but it would have been over four months ago.

          I received a letter last month informing me that I would have the opportunity to meet with a director and nurse if I had any questions concerning mom.  I assumed that my three sibs would be getting the same letter.  They never did.

          And just the other day, I received a calendar schedule for this month – first one that has come in the mail since January when we took mom there to live.  Really?  I remember asking about them back in March – but I never received a hard copy of one.  I did find one on the web and have looked at it and will still refer to it as I sometimes misplace my hard copy – but I am still puzzled at why I would receive these things and not my sibs. Surely they have that information for my brothers.

          I may have given my address to the director back in December – before we had even moved mom in.  Though I don’t remember having provided them with it.  But still.  That was six months ago!

          Anyway, the calendar has my mom’s birthday marked on the calendar for yesterday – but really it isn’t until the end of this month. I mentioned it to the activities director – just in case there was a mix up on her paper work.  Right now I don’t guess it really matters much when her birthday is celebrated or if celebrated at all. 

          Last month mom told me that she decided she was 62.

          “Oh, you decided that?”

          “Yes.  That is how old I am”

          Great.  That means she gave birth to me when I was only eleven.

          Yesterday she informed me that she is 174.  That is the same age at Harold.

perhaps you could say it like you mean it . . .

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If the school should call while school is still in session, I’ll answer ASAP but if the school calls after school hours, I usually just let it ring until it goes to voice mail.  There have been a few times I’ve answered, but had wished I would have had the voice mail recording so that I could listen to the message again.  Usually it is either the principal or her secretary who leave the message.  Both have made announcements as though they mean it.  But yesterday I got the final message of this season. 

            The voice was less than enthusiastic.  Somewhat monotone and robotic sounding. It sounded like a school marm who had just been dismissed from teaching and at the last second had been asked, “Oh, could you do one final announcement before you go?” 

 

It also had the feel of a spliced recording made from the 60’s on one of those old reel-to-reels. These are the words of the message: “Vantana Elementary reminds parents that Thursday is the last day of school this year.  school will dismiss ay 1:05 tomorrow.  As a reminder if your child owes lunch money, please send it tomorrow.  We hope everybody has a fun and safe summer.”

            The voice seemed to say a different thing however.  “Vantana Elementary reminds parents that Thursday is the last day of the school year.  Wish it was the last day permanently.  The school will dismiss at 1:05 tomorrow – so be certain you pick up your little brats. As a reminder, if your child owes lunch money, please send it tomorrow – or preferably instead of the child.  We hope everybody has a fun and safe summer – I personally don’t care if they do or not.

            Yesterday there was a program and awards ceremony.  Every child in the third grade was given something. Jenna’s award was for best classroom helper.   She is sad to see the school year come to an end.  She’ll be entering the forth grade on August 21^st.  It doesn’t seem that far away – but I suppose the heat will add to how long it feels.

Reflecting on Horton and Pinky

As a child, I was pretty much on the gullible side – or perhaps just wanted so much to believe in the unreal that I tried to make it real.

I recall an Easter when my Aunt Alice purchased two white bunnies.  She gave the bunnies to the children of her two brothers.  Patrick and I called ours “Pinky” (though Patrick himself most likely didn’t have anything to do with the naming; it sounds like I came up with the name and forced him to go along) and Kevin and Michelle named their rabbit “Greenfeet” or so I believed.

I was fascinated by both Dr. Seuss “Horton” stories – in the latter, the egg hatched at the end of the story and out came a bird that had Horton’s head.  How fascinating.  I wondered if it would work on rabbits as well.  It doesn’t.

Never mind that Pinky was only three or four weeks, totally uncooperative and wouldn’t sit on the egg unless I was holding her on top of it (or him.  I don’t think I really knew if Pinky was male or female.  I don’t really guess I thought about it one way or the other.  I never thought of Horton as male or female.  I was not all that bright) but I had taken the egg from the refrigerator.  Placed it outside near a bush in our backyard (Pinky was usually in a cage on the inside of the house) but I didn’t want my mom to find out what I was doing.  

I don’t recall how many weeks went by before a rotten odor was detected coming from the direction of that bush.  Not only was I not getting a half bird/half bunny.  I had wasted (and forgotten about) the egg.

Pinky and Greenfeet both died within the first three months.  I think they were “loved” to death. All that I have left now is this story.  I don’t even know if Pinky's bones remain in my mom’s former backyard.  Probably.

Two More Poems

Whenever the Wind Blows

When I fall asleep

I sleep quite hard

Whenever the wind blows

Slumber invites me

Into worlds beyond this one

When I fall asleep

My eyelids become heavy

My thoughts are put on hold

Whenever the wind blows

My husband can’t believe

How quickly I drift off
When I fall asleep

How the trees dance

And leaves often fall

Whenever the wind blows

There’s a calm cool breeze

That surrounds me but I miss it

When I fall asleep

Whenever the wind blows

                       

                                                                   

                                                            kfralc

Assisted Living

Harold

Bent over

Kissing

June

June

Kissing

Bent over

Harold

                                                            kfralc