Beneath the Wraps

I would like to thank the inventor (or inventors rather) who created disposable dishes.   Paper plates and cups, plastic flatware, aluminum pans – though not yet invented for the stove top – at least that I know of.           I don’t mind doing dishes – but I don’t thrive on it.   It does irk me quite a bit when I know I’ve done the dishes – lots of them – and less than four hours later the sink gives one the appearance that I haven’t done dishes all week.   Where the heck do these extra dishes even come from?   Usually it’s just me and Jenna.   Or me.   In the morning and after work it is Roland, Jenna and me – well not every night.             Biff works graveyards – and although he does cook at odd times during the 24 hour day – he doesn’t use that many dishes.   Two – maybe three.   I think I have dish gremlins that break into my house.  ...

          My mom has always had a lousy sense of direction – at least since I’ve known her.  Improper medication or improper amounts due to failing health and aging does not help matters.  She’s always been an okay driver – not exceptional.  Perhaps even good at one time – now?  I think my mom behind a wheel is rather a scary combination.           But then again having me behind the wheel when the sun is streaming over dirty windows – also scary.  And to top it off – send me to unfamiliar roads.  It’s like Lucy Ricardo driving Ethel Mertz.  (For those of you who have no clue what that statement even means, I encourage you to go to YouTube and click on “I Love Lucy” – any episode, doesn’t matter.  It should help you to understand my comparison)           Mom and I have actually had quite a few Luc...

          When I was twelve I took a family history class – only it wasn’t actually called Family History.   At that time it was referred to a genealogy. (Boring name; must be why they changed it) I was the only youth in the class.   The instructor was early 40s – possibly late 30s.   The rest of the class members were all over the age of 50. Things were done on legal size paper.   There were Xerox machines (photocopiers) and pens.   No PAF, Ancestry.com, Google, etc.   I would imagine doing family research is so much easier now than back then. My instructor had been raised in a foster care system and had always had a strong sense of getting to know and understand her family.   It was a very long process. I understand why family history is so important to her.   To have a connection.   And when she did find connections, the discoveries were great.   As an adult she learned that she h...

I so love it when nature seems to work against itself.  I’ve received emails featuring dogs or tigers raising pigs  ; or orphaned duckings accepted and raised by a non-biological mother.  I’ve read miracle stories on animal survival and unexplainable compassion.  And I think that it is totally great!           Recently my brother introduced me to the Blog “Raising my Rainbow”  which I have checked periodically and tried to follow from the beginning.  In a few posts the blogger has sought out advice for book recommendations.  And I have checked out various recommendations that have been left in the comment section.  My favorite book thus far is “And Tango makes Three” by Justin Richardson  and Peter Parnell – a charming book about two male penguins at the Central Park zoo who found themselves enjoying the companionship of one another and tried to imitate what the other pengui...

         Perhaps that seems a lousy comparison.   And I am not actually comparing the dog to the human being – I am comparing the emotions one may go through as he or she searches for a pet as opposed to searching for a family member.           I do have examples for both.   We have had two dogs that have come to us in their prime.   Both during different years and in different cities.   Both had/have a sense of adventure beyond our fenced yards.   And both have managed to escape – though it has been quite a mystery about HOW they escaped – especially the first one.           The one who lives with us currently has always been nearby and often returns home on his own.   The first one was a happy wanderer who was on a mission to find his boys – he had claimed them before they claimed him.   He loved our boys and woul...

                I remember watching an episode of “The Twilight Zone” in which a “turning of age” theme was introduced.  Girls were expected to trade in their bodies for a much more exciting model.  There was even a catalog of models to choose from.                     The main character of this episode had her birthday coming up – and it was expected of her that she would choose from at least two different models.  The girl was quite plain – perhaps even homely looking.  But she had a mind – which she really wanted to keep.           It seems like those who had changed their bodies had become so obsessed with the way they looked that they did not or would not think about anything else.  It wasn’t her.  She wanted to remain an individual and no...

         When our boys were 12, 13, and 15 I got pregnant.   I know the exact date, too.   Memorial weekend – May 28, 2002.   Only I didn’t know I was pregnant.   And I didn’t figure out until just before my child was aborted.   I still cry about it.           It was the 11 th of July (I believe) when I’d gone upstairs to use the only toilet in our house.   Sharp pains I’d never felt before.   I didn’t know why.   At first I tried to ignore it.   I went back downstairs to lie beside my husband.   No – I was in pain.   I went back into the bathroom – but it wasn’t a throwing up pain.   It was different.   I can’t remember what it felt like now – I had never experienced pain like that before or since.   It wasn’t until later – much later – that I learned my belly had been filling with blood My husband shot out of bed a...