Bicentennial Memories by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

There has been a lot of talk lately about people asking others if they remember our country’s Bicentennial.

For reference, on the back of the above picture there is a notation in my handwriting that says, “Bicentennial ‘76”. Additionally, that’s me front and center.

So, do I remember the Bicentennial? Boy, do I remember that weekend!

Though my telling of that weekend needs to start a few weeks back.

As you can see from the above picture, I was in band, and I played the B-flat clarinet.

And clearly my memories of that historic weekend start with being in the summer band class.

Most particularly, I was in the 6^th grade summer band class, as that was the year of school I just finished. I was also the shortest person in my section, which I probably could have tolerated if my fellow classmates hadn’t decided to make a big deal of it.

It didn’t help that I had not yet learned how to keep my mouth shut, and lying isn’t in me.
(It seems I’m on the spectrum, go figure.)

At any rate, when one of them pointed out I was the shortest in class, I had honestly informed them, “Yeah, and I’m the oldest.”

It was the first day of class, so they wondered how I could be so sure. I basically told them I was behind in school; I was 13 and would be 14 in about a month. All true.

And I should have kept my mouth shut. But it got worse a few weeks later when one of the girls expressed the opinion that maybe someone had forgotten to give me a pinch to grow an inch on my last birthday.

Being honest, and still not knowing how to keep my mouth shut, I let them know I hadn’t received any birthday spanking, and that requisite pinch, since like I was 10.

That was by far one of the biggest mistakes I’d ever made, and it was most unfortunate that I’d already told them, way back when I told them how old I was, exactly when my birthday was.

Yikes! The next thing I knew, all 13 or so of my female classmates were conspiring to overpower me and administer my birthday spanking and that badly needed pinch on my coming birthday, which, quite unfortunately, fell on a day when we were scheduled for class.

I was not looking forward to this event. After all, these girls outnumbered me and were bigger than me.

Ergo, while we were marching through town on Saturday, July 3^rd, 1976, my mind was more on whether or not I should ditch class on Monday.

And thereby what happened when we reached the end of this parade is forever etched into my memory, because for me, it was epic.

Here is the gist of what happened. As we reached the ending point, our band leader faced all of us and informed us that, owing to the momentous holiday falling on a Sunday, class was cancelled for Monday.

Now, as we were school kids, you would think we all cheered, but owing to the plans of the majority of the clarinet section, our band leader ended up staring at us in stunned silence.

I might point out that the one boy in our section, had no reaction at all and all but one of the girls in our section (almost in unison) snapped their fingers, stomped their foot, and said, “Oh, shoot!” while the lone remaining girl all but collapsed to the ground with her hand on her chest and breathed a very heartfelt, “Oh, thank God!”

That isn’t to say that I do not remember the rest of that weekend because I do.

At one point on Sunday the 4^th, my siblings and I played with sparklers in our yard; then we went with our mother to watch the fireworks display. Afterwards, because of traffic, it took us so long to get home that by the time we entered our house, it was already July 5^th. Konnie and I pointed out it was now officially our birthday and demanded our presents.

I do not remember what Konnie got, but I do remember I got the Barbie Dreamboat. I actually still have it.

And later that day we packed up a picnic, along with our cake and ice cream, and went to Ross Park to continue our celebration. Which is where someone saw our birthday cake and said they thought it was a cool idea to have a cake for our county’s birthday.

I guess she was thinking about America’s birthday because that day there was a festival in that very park as part of the Bicentennial festivities.

Anyway, happy writing, everyone!

Of Stream of Thought and Little Guy by Konnie Enos

Last week, with insufficient warning to step in for her, my sister let me know her health wasn’t allowing her to type anything for her post. I did grapple with the idea of me substituting for her, which I have done before, but my brain was stubbornly stuck on the idea that I didn’t have to write anything for another week.

That and I’d had absolutely nothing happen to inspire even a germ of an idea.

Most of my posts are retelling something that happened in my house, usually something funny. The antics of a furry family member, or something someone living here did or said. Occasionally, it’s a description of some event or another that has taken place in here.

Then there is the stream of thought post where I randomly type for about an hour whatever comes to mind. Those probably happen more times than I care to admit. Most often weeks like this one where I not only have had nothing spark an idea, but also there has been little going on around here.

My days generally start with my daughter’s little guy wanting to cuddle with me. We assume he wants to be here because I move around far less than my daughter does.

I spend most of my days sitting on my bed, generally on my tech, though sometimes I do pull out one of my books to read. There are also the occasions when I pull out a craft to do. (Lately it’s generally a crocheting project.) The point is, I’m not getting up and down a lot, so he can snuggle without me moving away all the time.

Then there is my daughter.

In the morning, she brings little guy into my room than starts her day. This includes turning on lights, opening curtains, and sitting herself up on the end of the sofa with whatever tech or crafts she plans on doing that day, or books she plans to read. But she doesn’t sit still all day.

Between her sessions sitting she will pace or skip the hallway. It is such a regular occurrence that I warn all visitors not to enter the hallway without first checking both ways because she could very easily come flying past without notice. And yes, when she is skipping I literally mean flying past. She goes fast enough to create a breeze.

Then between sitting and skipping, she is constantly getting up to do chores.

She has, all on her own, decided that to keep our house clean she must do the chores I cannot do, which means all floor maintenance is her responsibility. I know how to sweep and mop, and could probably still do it, but doing so always wrecks my back for at least a couple of days. This means I cannot do this chore daily and with all the dogs we have, plus a couple of men that are constantly going out back, our floors need daily sweeping and at least weekly mopping.  

My back also prevents me from scrubbing the bathroom, so she is regularly doing that or forcing her brother to.

Now these aren’t the only reasons she moves around.

She also spends time everyday making sure our plants are well cared for and getting enough sunlight. Then on top of all that she gets up every two or three hours to get some more food. I think the only one of the seven hobbit mealtimes she doesn’t get something to eat is the last one. But then, unlike hobbits, she isn’t getting large mounds of food. Usually, it’s little more than a snack.

In other words, she wisely eats only enough to satisfy her hunger, whenever she is hungry. I should be more like her.

There are times her little guy does snuggle with her during the day, but often that is when we are all sitting down at the table for dinner. He gets rather upset if he cannot spend that time in her lap. Fortunately, unlike our other dogs, he is under ten pounds and generally not in her way while he is sleeping in her lap. Him being in her lap sleeping has the effect of preventing her from getting up and down all the time.

We’re not at all sure why he wants to spend his days snuggled with someone. Perhaps a warm body, or maybe he simply doesn’t want to be alone for any amount of time. That would explain him being loudly insistent on being in my daughter’s lap while we are eating.

I personally think the main issue with little guy; is he is also very old. Between his health, and his age, we’re lucky he’s still alive. Pushing 17 is very old especially for a little dog like him.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

Apologies by Konnie Enos

 

Sorry, but Bonnie's carpal tunnel is preventing her from typing anything today. And while she did warn me about her not being able to do her post, it wasn't until this morning and I have not been able to come up with anything on such short notice.

I'll make an effort to get a new post up next week. 

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.  

Of Late Nights and Forgetting Things by Konnie Enos

Last night, just minutes before midnight, I lay in bed trying to figure out what day it was, and I remember thinking this is what happens when you no longer have kids to get up and ready for school. Well, that and being retired. Most days we simply do not have to get up because we have places to be.

Now, as I said it was near midnight. I know, I checked the time. My husband had curled up in bed over an hour earlier, so I had every reason to believe he was fast asleep. However, just before I looked at the time, he’d started talking to me, quite wide awake. So, I asked him what day it was.

He told me but also pointed out some context clues. One of which was our son had taken the garbage bins to the curb only a few hours earlier. Wednesday is garbage day.

I then went over everything I knew that had happened that day which would indicate it was Tuesday. One of those being I had looked at my planner.

Okay, the day of the week was established.

Then I found myself trying to remember if I had to write the post for this week. Since my husband cannot seem to remember that I don’t do the post every single week, he wasn’t going to be any help with that question. He was the only one in the room, unless you count the two dogs.

The other dog and our daughter were asleep in her room, and since I had not heard our son since he dealt with the garbage, I had to assume he was asleep too. (He was not. I heard him opening and closing doors shortly after this.) Of course, while my children would have a clue that I don’t post every week, they would have no reason to remember on what schedule I do post.

There was also no reason for me to leave my bed, and room, in search of someone to ask if it was my turn to post. There was also no reason to wake up Bonnie particularly since it was by then after midnight and it’s an hour later where she lives. One would assume she was fast asleep, like I should have been.

My solution was to turn my reading light back on and pull out my planner because I have the days I have to post marked in there. Even without also putting my glasses back on, I was able to see the necessary information.

Mind you by now it was well after midnight and I was quite tired.

What did I do?

I spent more time trying to decide if I was awake enough to write a post and trying to remember if I could even produce the smallest idea for said post. The answer to both those questions was clearly no.

I opted for sleep since I knew I’d be awake well before I needed to have anything up. That and I’d need to be awake to even figure out something to write about.

Now, I do have an alarm to wake me up on Wednesday mornings. One set early enough that I’d have time to write my post if I needed to.

Being the post-menopausal women that I am, my bladder woke me up several minutes before my alarm went off. So, turn off the alarm, get out my laptop and opened Word. Fortunately, I did not then stare at the blank screen trying to figure what to write about because everything that had happened as I was beginning to fall asleep was still fresh in my mind.

Though I was able to figure out why the fact I had to post this morning had so completely slipped my mind. Two reasons in fact.

One was after a week without our washing machine working, we’d gotten it repaired yesterday morning. While drying the very first load of long overdue laundry, the drier conked out. And that’s on top of the oven dying at the same time the washer did. (The oven is not worth fixing but we can’t afford fixing the washer, and now the drier and replacing the stove.)

The second was my other son called. You know, the apprentice electrician, who is making really good money. He promised to send me enough money to cover getting a new oven. Yeah!

But he also told me he was coming down for a visit. For my birthday! Double yeah!

I spent considerable time discussing a birthday dinner menu with my daughter after that delightful news. I am so looking forward to having one more person at the table for my birthday celebration.

Smile. Make the day a brighter day.

 

Time Blindness by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

Right now, I am recovering from my last trip out of my house. You might think I went on some massive road trip or something, but I didn’t. No, what I did was go to a doctor’s appointment, then run a few errands.

I might also point out that the first three stops I made after the doctor’s appointment were to three different drive-throughs. As in, I didn’t even get out of my car.

At the fourth stop, I was getting my walker out of my car when the salesclerk came out and told me I needed to hurry because the place was closing in five minutes.

I hurried. I did get what I needed, then I sat in my car for several minutes just catching my breath.

I might add, I told the clerk I hadn’t realized it was that late, and I was sorry for coming so late.

I am not now, nor have I ever been, one of those who think they keep the store open as long as there are still customers in the place. That is, by the way, quite rude.

There is only one other time when I entered a store close to closing time, and neither I nor the friend I was with realized the store was about to close. When we learned it was about to close, we rushed to check out, apologizing as we did for coming in so late.

Monday, I did the same thing. I apologized for coming so late, and I thanked her for letting me get the bread I needed.

I might add that I knew that the store closed at 5, so did the third drive-through I’d been to. I just hadn’t looked at the clock to ascertain how late it was, which is a problem I do have. Most days, time is irrelevant to me.

I read somewhere recently that a lot of autistic people see time in terms of now and not now. Yeah, I get that. I don’t pay close enough attention to the clock and have been known to set an alarm to alert me when I need to leave the house for appointments.

Having errands I need to accomplish by a certain date without an exact appointment is difficult, if not downright impossible. Let’s face it, I have missed appointments because I forgot them.

Actually, I’ve had my doctor’s office call me, waking me up, saying, “You’re late for your appointment.”

The number of times this past year I’ve had to reschedule because I slept in or my car wouldn’t start is frightening.

And it is something Konnie doesn’t have to deal with.

Yeah, she sets alarms for certain things, but those things are constants, like when she takes her medications. My alarms, except for the morning one, are all set to remind me I need to get up and out the door for an appointment.

I honestly once thought I had set an alarm I needed, but I forgot to click on the save icon. Ergo, it never went off. I missed that appointment and had to reschedule.

 I think the only time Konnie has mentioned needing to reschedule an appointment at the last minute was once when her husband took off with their only car and wasn’t back in time for her to make her appointment.

But that’s just it. In Konnie’s house, they have to coordinate when appointments are because they have only one car. They have a big calendar they use to keep track of who has appointments when, and if everyone is paying attention, the car is available when needed.

I live alone. My car is always available when needed. My brain is the issue here. I just have trouble thinking that far ahead.

 I suppose, if I lived with Konnie – well, to be honest, her daughter, who still lives at home, would be the one keeping me on schedule, because that’s something she’s capable of.

I can practically hear her right now saying, “Don’t you have someplace you need to get to?"

I have certainly, when I was visiting Konnie’s house, heard my niece say more than once, “Have you looked at the time?” to somebody or other who really needed to get a move on.

Maybe that’s the kind of assistance I need, an actual human being to point out the time to me regularly.

By the way, I had this issue even when my husband was still alive. I remember once when we had a meeting to go to, I was trying to write a scene. I told him more than once to just let me finish what I was writing.

He eventually went to the meeting without me.

Anyway, happy writing, everyone!