The Wolf Dogs are Gone

           Just over a year ago a couple moved into the house next door.  I remember family members working on the roof and house trimming and paint.  They spruced it up nicely.  We were really excited to have them move in.  I remember them watering their lawn on a daily basis.  I thought they had money as they could afford to do that.

         Ally played with a girl that Jai and I had been introduced to just over a year ago.  I was under the impression that Jeremy was the father of the three children but that they all lived with their mom.  However when Biff and Clair moved in it appeared that Holly was living with Jeremy and Amanda.  Amanda also had another child.  They also had two huge dogs which reminded me of wolves.

         The dogs would bark up a storm every time they were let into the back yard.  Jeremy and Holly really liked Bonnie but they did not like Char.  Biff and Clair had moved out before Jeremy and his wife.  I heard that Holly was moving – but thought it may be back with her biological mom (I still don’t know the story) but learned today that the dogs are gone, the family is gone.  It sounds like they were renting?  That is weird.  I thought they were the homeowners who started out with a great yard.  But the people who are servicing next door said they really trashed the place. 

          I had seen a man over there.  I thought he was the father of either Jeremy or Amanda. Guess not.       Today we received a visit from a small dog named Monkey.  He arrived with leash so I figured his owners were not far.  I asked a man who was in the driveway next door.  He is the one that told me that the house is currently under construction again. We’ve lived in our current house just over seven years.  We’ve seen people come and go.  I would like some stable neighbors – ones we like.

More From the Shed

                Richard had decided to buy me a 12 X 12 scrapbook with extra pages as I had enjoyed scrapbooking. This purchase was made at the time when we still lived in West Valley.  8 ½ by 11 always seemed more practical for me though I had made up four or five 12 X 12 scrapbook albums when I was single.  After I had married I had made a couple of pathetic attempts of scrapbooking in order to preserve the memories of my new instant family – but I had given that up after Jaime was born.  I didn’t have the room I needed.

         Before we had even moved to West Valley Richard had given me a CD set to download to the computer. The program allowed me create scrapbook pages on the computer. No longer would I have to spread out photos and lay them out for placement and seek for stickers or die cuts to go with whatever themes.  I could see benefits for both. The pages I print from the computer don’t have raised borders or the third dimension sometimes offered by a hand created scrapbook. 

         I kept all my scrapbooking supplies in the event that I ever returned to pre-computer.  When Richard presented me with the 12X12 I decided to go through some accumulated photos (such as our trip to Disneyland) and create pages.  I asked Jaime to assist.  She made one page.  That was her contribution.  She does not love scrapbooking.  Not her thing.   

  I had started four or five pages.  STARTED.  I had placed pictures on the12X12.  I don’t know what year I had tackled that feat – if it was the year before my mom was put into assisted living, the year before we moved here or when.  Apparently I had packed up my scrapbook pages and supplies and even the new scrapbook album which Richard had purchased.  I didn't even realize that I had had it when we lived in West Valley but the receipt indicates that is where we lived. It sat in our Oregon shed(s) – eight years it lay untouched.  Honestly I had forgotten that they existed – until quite recently when Jaime and I were finally able to tackle both sheds and reorganize and dispose.

I had the 12X12 scrapbook in the yardsale.  It remained untouched.  Then I decided I would put some of the photos (particularly the cut ones – see here) in a scrapbook and send it to Ryan.  After I printed his name off the computer and inserted it along with his photo I found alphabetized stickers in the front cover – where they will remain because I don’t know how to get them out.  There are instructions for inserting the extra pages.  Evidently the spine needs to be broken and reset.  What the hey??!!! 

Anyway I have decided to get rid of the extra papers, stickers, die cuts, stencils and whatever else I happened to collect.  I took a picture of some samples and posted them on facebook.  I had a taker within five minutes.  Excited about the claim.

A Magician and a Castle Cake

           I scanned several photos with the intent of mailing them all to Ryan’s family.  I thought his kids might enjoy looking at them.  There are quite a number of photos and postage will be costly – unless I send just a couple of them at a time.  Thus I started with four random photos and a message to his family to keep an eye on his ever changing hair (or lack thereof) for Ryan has had a head full of hair similar looking to Sideshow Bob (from the Simpsons) and has also been completely bald.  He has gone through a blond stage.  Dreadlocks. 

          We had an unused scrapbook in our yard sale.  It was not purchased and I have recently decided that I will place some photos within and send it out when it is full.  I will start with Ryan’s 14^th birthday.

          Richard and I had been married just over a year when Ryan (dubbed as Tony in previous posts) turned 14.  I don’t know how we were able to afford such an elaborate birthday party. Richard must have sold a  few properties as he was able to hire a magician to host the party.  Ryan invited several friends and I had invited my family.  Our foreign exchange student took most of the photos that are now in my possession. 

          Not all of the photos have been cut into pieces.  I probably have enough photos to fill five or six pages.  Reminders of the guests, magician and birthday cake.  Perhaps it will trigger some memories he will be able to share.  Here are just some of the photos:

He Was a Long Term Substitute

 When I was in junior high (the year indicates I was in my ninth grade year) I had an English instructor who seemed kind of strict and thought he might be a hard grader.  I really don’t know much about him except for he had pronounced my last name correctly and since that rarely happened I thought we must related.

I don’t know for how long he was my instructor.  I think at least one semester.  But we had a substitute finish out the year.  He was a very easy grade.  For the most part we didn’t even receive instruction (as I recall) but were subject to every Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton movie.  I kid you not.  I’m surprised to learn that apparently we had been given an assignment.  But there it is – his comments following the four A pluses.

 

 I must have referred to this paper at least four times within the letters I had sent to my mom while attending Ricks College.  I knew that if I ever came across it that it would not be worth the read – and yet how great to have those marks.  I think I needed an instructor somewhere in between the old man who had a heart attack and never did return to school (at least while I was there) and the long-term substitute who seemed to be obsessed with silent movies and oblivious to teaching English. I wonder how many of the other faculty were aware of the situation.  We definitely WEREN'T learning.

 I did not scan the assignment itself but had made my own comments that anyone who wanted to read my assignment plus any follow-ups had to be nuts.

“This thing was brought to you by a Dramatic English class.”

Silly Girl

 

Long before digital cameras we used film.  Film cartridges were dropped off or mailed. After the film was developed into pictures they were ready for pick-up.  They would come in envelopes with two pouches.  The larger pouch contained the photographs and the smaller held the negatives. Jai and I found a large number of negatives among the photos we had discovered.  Jai seemed to take more pleasure out of looking at the negatives than the pictures themselves.  Silly girl.

Summertime Blues

     Since I have been married 

each ward we have lived in has 

offered a small primary.  

When members go out of town 

the primary appears to be even smaller.  

The primary president had recruited Jaime as 

a sunbeam teacher for the next two weeks - 

starting the other day.  

There were five children in the primary - 

more leaders than youth.  

They combined the younger children and 

older ones for just two classes.  

Jaime was not sad to learn 

she was not needed after all.

From the Popcorn’s Point of View - a composition written in 1981

 This is the only composition I had scanned.  My first paragraph ends with the comment good.  My last paragraph ends with the comment disarming.  I received 22 points.  I don’t know what that is in relation to.  If there were 25 possible points I think I did rather well.  But the paper itself was an atrocious mess.  So maybe it’s 22 out of 100?  I don’t know. I think I went overboard on the contractions. 

My instructor may have docked me for at least one spelling error but as I type this I have found some others that he hadn’t underlined (or pointed out).  My typewriter did not have spell check but word does.  Thus my spelling errors have been corrected but I tried to leave paragraphs and commas as what I had turned in.  I have included two paragraphs from the original I had handed in.

 That particular English class was a rather easy grade as I recall.  So I’m thinking 22 was a decent grade.  But maybe not.  Typing this up for this blog post has been fun for me.  I laughed a lot – probably more than you (the reader) will.

 

You won’t believe how hard it is to be a popcorn kernel. Unlike humans, we don’t make our [own] decisions.  Humans determine how we grow, when we’re to be shipped and sold, and the end result – our career.

We start out as a hardy variety of Indian corn.  We are small kernels and we live in small ears.  We have a tough skin, and that’s how humans can genuinely tell us apart from regular corn, or corn seed. After we are harvested, we are bagged and shipped.

Some mortals will put us in this greasy substance called oil.   At first we think we are getting a bath or something.  The pool is greasy, but we start out feeling good because we think the steam may be tenderizing our skin.  Only the feeling doesn’t last for long.  Quickly, one by one (sometimes two of us will go at a time) will jump to the top and hit our heads on the ceiling.  Some mortal beings will think we are growing, but we’re actually turning into a “Hulk” formation.  You’d burst too if you were frying in a grease while melted butter drips all over your body.

Once we are popped, most people will scarf us down like it is their last time they will ever taste popcorn.  They buy or take us to the movies, and plop us in their mouths while their bugged eyes focus on the screen.  (Well, there are some cases in which we never get eaten, because the humans are too busy practicing mouth to mouth resuscitation.)

Sometimes we are bunched together.  Humans call us popcorn balls.  They stick us together with just about anything.  They use Jello, Karo syrup, honey, brown sugar, caramel, and things like that.

People don’t do it as much as they used to, but still we get some who will poke holes through us and string us around a pine tree.  We become part of the Christmas decoration, and we feel really special.  We are admired by people of all ages and sizes.  It is just really neat. 

Also Creative mortals have used us as part of a picture decoration.  I remember a few friends who were glued to a sheet of blue construction paper.  The paper was used to represent the sky, and my friends portrayed the snow.  We’ve been used in other pictures too. 

Some of us don’t even have to be blown up and go through the “steam-pot” humility.  Folks can still make pictures out of us even though we aren’t popped.

There was this human person who dressed 483 of us in paint.  Some were brown.  Some were black.  Some were many other colors.  The human used the brown kernels for the turkey’s body.  He used the red, green, yellow, and purple kernels for the feathers, the black kernels for the eye and the orange kernels for his feet.  I knew a lot of kernels that had fun having that as their career.

Also men have used us for markers when they play a game.  Sometimes they place a number of us in a jar, and other humans have to guess how many of us there are.

My conclusion is that sometimes it does seem very hard to be a popcorn but we do make people happy.  I guess it’s like a school education, carrying all those books around and writing stupid compositions may get hectic, but the outcome is rewarding.

Here are two paragraphs taken from the paper I had turned in.  How pathetic.