Growing up you could always count on Mom to make delicious homemade treats on a fairly regular basis. One of our favorites was ice cream and homemade fudge sauce. On one particular night Mom had made a particularly delicious batch of fudge sauce and I believe she had doubled the batch to save some for the following evening. Somehow it didn't manage to get put away before everyone went to bed.
It sat in the pan overnight on the stove and was enjoyed by more than just us kids. Now in the past we would have of course gone straight to the fridge to get ourselves a large spoonful to savor before Mom caught us (yeah we were sneaky like that) but this time we noticed a horrible sight of the fudge left out. When we approached we noticed a small divot out of the fudge surrounded by tiny footprints that appeared to have been dancing around with excitement at the discovery. Some little mouse surely had a tummy ache that morning considering it had gorged itself on all that fudge.
Alas with no desire to eat the fudge after seeing the tracks Charlie and Danielle started stirring it up.
After several minutes of playing with it we heard Jeremy coming upstairs and didn't think much of it. They continued playing in it and before we could say "Bob's my uncle" Jeremy had gotten a very large spoonful of the fudge and put it in his mouth.
We stood their silent and motionless and our mouths were probably slightly agape at the sight of our big brother eating Mouse Print Fudge. I think I was the one who declared "EWWWW! A MOUSE WALKED ALL OVER IN THAT!"
A look of sheer terror crossed his face as he bolted for the sink to spit it out and attempted to sterilize his mouth with scalding hot water. After several mouthfuls of water he finally turned on us with a vengeance. Now clearly this was not warranted as we didn't have even a split second to warn him before he let his own gluttony put him in that situation but alas I still wound up with a dead arm because he had caught me when Charlie and Danielle manage to escape and he punched my arm till all feeling was gone.
Mom at that point had walked down and asked what was going on and I told her a mouse was in the fudge and it was bad and Jeremy ate some. She scolded him for eating it and I just kept my mouth shut as I really didn't want to lose feeling in both arms.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Friday, September 18, 2015
The Great Bat Massacre of '86
Shortly after our family moved to Idaho we discovered that a large colony of bats had decided to make our humble abode their home as well. We discovered the colony in our very large attic and to avoid having them come throughout the remainder of the home unwanted my Dad and "Uncle John" determined that we needed to exterminate them.
Now being from a family that always put the safety of us children first we were instructed to don long sleeved shirts and put on one of Dads gazillion hats. We all did so and their was an air of excitement coursing through each of us siblings and Johns sons who had chosen to take part. We each carefully chose the weapon we would be using. My weapon of choice was a tennis racket but others had chosen weapons such as baseball bats, 2x4's, BB guns and pellet guns. We were armed to the teeth and ready for war!
As we each ascended the spiral staircase made from raw split logs we admired the workmanship and each step towards the top took us further and further away from the trivial things of our childhood as we each ascended to the rank of Private in the coming war. We were soldiers and we were ready.
We stood there looking around determining which bats to kill first and Dad and John had determined that two sheets of plywood leaning against the wall held the vast majority of the bats between them. He and John ran at the plywood and with a deafening thud the cracking and crunching of thousands of tiny bones signaled that the massacre had begun.
Left and right bats began taking flight to save their lives and left and right children and grown men were swatting them out of the air to crush beneath our feet or shoot with the BB and Pellet guns. Arms were flailing everywhere brandishing weapons as bat after bat was knocked from flight to its certain death. One or more bats were knocked between tennis racket and baseball bat multiple times as we played a gruesome game of "I bet I can hit my sibling with a dead bat". Not a game for the faint of heart.
As the massacre wound to an end and few bats remained lying on the floor having yet to be completely dispatched, I insisted that I wanted to shoot one too. Someone handed me the BB gun and I pointed it sure and true right at its stomach and pulled the trigger. Did you know that a bat will survive that? Cocking the BB gun again I pointed it directly at its tiny head and more specifically directly into its open mouth with its tiny fangs and pulled the trigger.
The battle for our home was now over. We had defeated the flying vermin and we were true soldiers having fought on the front lines of extermination and not one soldier was lost.
Now being from a family that always put the safety of us children first we were instructed to don long sleeved shirts and put on one of Dads gazillion hats. We all did so and their was an air of excitement coursing through each of us siblings and Johns sons who had chosen to take part. We each carefully chose the weapon we would be using. My weapon of choice was a tennis racket but others had chosen weapons such as baseball bats, 2x4's, BB guns and pellet guns. We were armed to the teeth and ready for war!
As we each ascended the spiral staircase made from raw split logs we admired the workmanship and each step towards the top took us further and further away from the trivial things of our childhood as we each ascended to the rank of Private in the coming war. We were soldiers and we were ready.
We stood there looking around determining which bats to kill first and Dad and John had determined that two sheets of plywood leaning against the wall held the vast majority of the bats between them. He and John ran at the plywood and with a deafening thud the cracking and crunching of thousands of tiny bones signaled that the massacre had begun.
Left and right bats began taking flight to save their lives and left and right children and grown men were swatting them out of the air to crush beneath our feet or shoot with the BB and Pellet guns. Arms were flailing everywhere brandishing weapons as bat after bat was knocked from flight to its certain death. One or more bats were knocked between tennis racket and baseball bat multiple times as we played a gruesome game of "I bet I can hit my sibling with a dead bat". Not a game for the faint of heart.
As the massacre wound to an end and few bats remained lying on the floor having yet to be completely dispatched, I insisted that I wanted to shoot one too. Someone handed me the BB gun and I pointed it sure and true right at its stomach and pulled the trigger. Did you know that a bat will survive that? Cocking the BB gun again I pointed it directly at its tiny head and more specifically directly into its open mouth with its tiny fangs and pulled the trigger.
The battle for our home was now over. We had defeated the flying vermin and we were true soldiers having fought on the front lines of extermination and not one soldier was lost.
Thursday, September 17, 2015
I Would Like To Report A Kidnapping......
We all had a favorite toy growing up. I was no exception. My favorite was my Pooh bear with a wind up butt that played his theme song. Oh how I loved that chubby little stubby all stuffed with fluff Pooh bear. He went everywhere with me.
One day he was missing. He couldn't be located anywhere and I was quite upset. My baby had disappeared. We launched an all out search and rescue effort involving the entire family, neighborhood, local police, US government and Canada all to no avail. Well okay it was just me and Mom looking but we certainly put forth the same effort that the above mentioned others would have had they known of the kidnapping. I was devastated, he was gone forever and my little tiny heart was broken. Never again would I hear the Winnie the Pooh theme without feeling a pang of sorrow for my little guy who had been kidnapped.
Fast forwarding to about five years old and Mom had purchased a number of flowers to plant in the flower bed right out front of the house. She enlisted my little hands with a small spade to assist in the planting. She would point out where to dig the next small hole and I would follow orders and dig. This process repeated several times until I hit something hard. I continued to work my spade around that hard object until it was freed and I pulled it upwards. I was shocked and horrified to discover in my hand the music box to my Pooh bear as well as some tattered remains of his stuffing and fabric body. I cried. I tried to wind the music box but alas years of it being buried in the moist ground through several winters had rusted the mechanism and my baby was completely dead. Murdered in the prime of his life. It was generally accepted as fact that the prime suspect was my brother Jeremy. He was however never arrested and charged with any crime in connection with the murder.
As a way to deal with my grief I located a crib mobile music box that played "I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing" and continued to carry that around and play it relentlessly for a very long time. That mysteriously disappeared as well............
One day he was missing. He couldn't be located anywhere and I was quite upset. My baby had disappeared. We launched an all out search and rescue effort involving the entire family, neighborhood, local police, US government and Canada all to no avail. Well okay it was just me and Mom looking but we certainly put forth the same effort that the above mentioned others would have had they known of the kidnapping. I was devastated, he was gone forever and my little tiny heart was broken. Never again would I hear the Winnie the Pooh theme without feeling a pang of sorrow for my little guy who had been kidnapped.
Fast forwarding to about five years old and Mom had purchased a number of flowers to plant in the flower bed right out front of the house. She enlisted my little hands with a small spade to assist in the planting. She would point out where to dig the next small hole and I would follow orders and dig. This process repeated several times until I hit something hard. I continued to work my spade around that hard object until it was freed and I pulled it upwards. I was shocked and horrified to discover in my hand the music box to my Pooh bear as well as some tattered remains of his stuffing and fabric body. I cried. I tried to wind the music box but alas years of it being buried in the moist ground through several winters had rusted the mechanism and my baby was completely dead. Murdered in the prime of his life. It was generally accepted as fact that the prime suspect was my brother Jeremy. He was however never arrested and charged with any crime in connection with the murder.
As a way to deal with my grief I located a crib mobile music box that played "I'd Like To Teach The World To Sing" and continued to carry that around and play it relentlessly for a very long time. That mysteriously disappeared as well............
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
Let The Trauma Begin, No Escape from the Crib
Life for me began rather quietly, I... Oh who are we kidding? It was every kid for themselves from a very early age. I am far too young to remember all the gritty details and it's probably also my mind blocking out the trauma but there has always been talk of Jeremy covering me from head to toe in Desitin while I was trapped in my crib as a young infant. I am not sure if he was trying to protect me from any possible rashes or if he was doing his best to camouflage me into the crib sheets so Mom couldn't find me and thereby reclaim the title of the cutest in the family for himself. That crib had further use as a torture chamber when my siblings would tell me that there were ants crawling in there with me to which I know I probably screamed bloody murder. I got even with all those imaginary ants in my bed later in life as I discovered magnifying glasses and sent them all straight to hell where they belonged. Yes, in my world nap time was a very dangerous time, anything could happen.
Trauma tends to stick with you for life whether you realize it or not. I am almost certain that the reason I get ornery after taking naps now is because my mind goes right back to the early traumas of nap time when I couldn't escape.
Trauma tends to stick with you for life whether you realize it or not. I am almost certain that the reason I get ornery after taking naps now is because my mind goes right back to the early traumas of nap time when I couldn't escape.
Tuesday, September 15, 2015
Hardly a Princess
Growing up was not an easy task for me. I am honestly surprised I even survived. Planted in a family with five brothers and sisters and I was lucky enough to be between the two boys, well lets just say things got a bit rough. I recall a time when me and my younger brother Charlie were certain that the other would give in first and we continued to choke each other until someone stepped in. I don't recall who stepped in to stop us but that's probably because I was mere moments from black out. I am sure he would have blacked our first though. I don't recall the reason for the attempted murder but it could have just been a challenge to see who could kill who first. There really was not a chance in the world that I was going to grow up to be anything other than a tom boy.
It would be a true statement that if you put a gun or a wrench in my hand and I will smile instantly. I mean who gets excited over the gift of an impact gun other than me? Thanks for that by the way Dad. I recall my first mechanical experience helping my older brother Jeremy bleed brakes on the Dodge truck he was restoring. Yep, I was hooked from the start. I am the girl who will turn her head instantly when I hear the roar of a muscle car and I will never turn down the opportunity to drive a fast car and I will not drive it slowly either. I think I get my adrenaline junkie gene from my Dad who used to race at the Bonneville Salt Flats when I was a kid.. I got my license at 14, yeah for living in Idaho, and let me say that NO 14 YEAR OLD SHOULD HAVE A LICENSE. Well if they are anything like I was they shouldn't. Do I know the top speed of a Ford Taurus? I would say that there is a good possibility that I do... Sorry Mom but I never put a scratch on it so no harm done right? I bet Dad knew its top speed too.
It would be a true statement that if you put a gun or a wrench in my hand and I will smile instantly. I mean who gets excited over the gift of an impact gun other than me? Thanks for that by the way Dad. I recall my first mechanical experience helping my older brother Jeremy bleed brakes on the Dodge truck he was restoring. Yep, I was hooked from the start. I am the girl who will turn her head instantly when I hear the roar of a muscle car and I will never turn down the opportunity to drive a fast car and I will not drive it slowly either. I think I get my adrenaline junkie gene from my Dad who used to race at the Bonneville Salt Flats when I was a kid.. I got my license at 14, yeah for living in Idaho, and let me say that NO 14 YEAR OLD SHOULD HAVE A LICENSE. Well if they are anything like I was they shouldn't. Do I know the top speed of a Ford Taurus? I would say that there is a good possibility that I do... Sorry Mom but I never put a scratch on it so no harm done right? I bet Dad knew its top speed too.
It's all Mindy's fault
Well here it is, my blog. We can all blame Mindy for this one for planting the idea in my head.
Heaven knows I was certainly born perfect and through my life I have become less and less so. Thus, this is my journey to imperfection. You are now along for the ride so I will apologize in advance.
I hope you will all enjoy the updates of my crazy life as I post them.
Heaven knows I was certainly born perfect and through my life I have become less and less so. Thus, this is my journey to imperfection. You are now along for the ride so I will apologize in advance.
I hope you will all enjoy the updates of my crazy life as I post them.
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