Home is Where the Mountains Are

Numerous times, as we have been returning from trips, I have told the kids, "when you see the mountains, we are almost home." With that first glance of Mt. Scott in the distance, I instantly relax as I realize home is just a few miles away.

As mountains go, the Wichitas are probably hills by most people's standards, but they are a treasure trove of memories for those who grew up near them. We remember campouts and cookouts, boating on the lake, hiking over rocks, wading in creeks, and jumping into 40 foot hole. They were a place of solitude for minds that needed time to think, and, of course, an ideal place for couples to share some alone time.

Honestly, I still find myself amazed by the view when I stand on top of that mountain. Being able to see for miles, out over the plains and the blue lake, is an awe-inspiring experience. The refuge also affords us a chance to see the prairie just as our ancestors did, virtually untouched by man, with buffalo, longhorn, prairie dogs and other wildlife roaming free. It's an opportunity that is rarely found in an age where it seems every square inch of land is taken up by new houses and shopping areas.

My children love the mountains. They enjoy hiking and a trip to the top of Mt. Scott just as we all did when we were young, and, hopefully, new memories are being made for them with every outing.

So, as we make our way to our destination, and the small mountain range grows closer, I remember that home is not too far away, and I will soon be in the place I grew up, the place I still call home, and the place where I will always be comfortable in my own skin.

How WalMart Has Cheapened My Memories of Summer '83

So, yeah, it's been almost 18 months since I blogged anything and I probably have a lot to say. However, in a fit of insomnia last night I read my junior high journals, bringing back some fun memories. Today I was flipping through the June issue of Real Simple and I ran across a WalMart ad that scarred me almost as much as seeing that squirrel get hit by a truck and die yesterday. But I digress.

Let's skip down memory lane to June 28, 1983 when I had a friend I will call X and a crush on a guy we will call Y. So, what happened on that fateful night, you ask? Here's an excerpt from my journal entry.

"X was on her way to my house when she saw Y at 7-11. He had on a light blue OP shirt and dutch blue OP shorts, no socks and Vans. I bet he looked great."

My first thought was how not wearing socks was a apparently a point of interest in 1983. I also remembered how I labored in my mom's store to earn the money to go to the nice department store in the mall to buy OP shirts, which were considered tres chic and were pretty pricey for a t-shirt by early 1980's standards.

Which brings me to the ad on page 139 of the June Real Simple. Yes, WalMart is now your official supplier of OP clothing (and I think I saw a tote bag in there). Just as they took over brands like Vassarette and Bobbie Brooks, which were once staples of better ladies' clothing stores, they have taken over a cultural icon and turned it into a cheap item they can sell to the masses. *sigh* If they start selling Vans, I'm boycotting!

So, it's been awhile since I wrote.....

I seem to be having a temporary loss of mojo.

I thought I had forgotten what real heartache felt like. I thought it was a part of my past until it came screaming back into my life last month. First there is the overwhelming sadness and then the inability to feel or do anything- or to do anything right.

I can still feel emotions, but just anger and sadness. There is no love or joy. I want to feel these things, but it's like there is a gaping maw where my soul used to live.

I look around at all the people I see who appear to be so content with their lives. Have they stumbled across some secret that I have missed? What is the secret to contentment? Is it love, a degree, children, a good man? And how will I ever know?

It's My Pity Party and I'll Cry If I Want To

I just walked out of my kitchen and realized that I had just thrown together a pot of vegetable soup and a small pan of cornbread. I also realized that was my birthday dinner. No one offered to take me out to dinner, no one offered me even a small piece of cake. My mother couldn't be bothered to miss her Monday night cluck fest at her friend's house. My gifts were literally tossed at me without benefit of wrapping paper and I didn't even get a card from my kids. I've talked to my dad on the phone 3 times today and he has yet to tell me "Happy Birthday".

Busy-ness

Obviously it has been awhile since I have written- well, written anything here. I've been writing regularly for Associated Content and if you look to the right of this post you will see my content listing. I'm sure you will all want to take a moment and read all of my exciting holiday ideas. :-)

I have been busy with PTA activities and my sociology course. I've got to get started studying for my final in 2 weeks. *UGH*

I just returned from a "girlfriend's getaway" to Dallas. I went with my friend Christy and we had a great time. We did just a little shopping and dining and spent time with some other friends who live in Dallas. It was very relaxing.

I'm also a search guide with ChaCha now and am making a little extra cash that way. I've got their search toolbar at the top of the blog, so check it out sometime and you will be amazed at how great it is to have someone else do your searching for you.

My darling children are great and annoying all at the same time. I'm not sure they missed me while I was gone, but they were certainly happy to see me show up with a surprise for them.

Deja Vu

I experienced this yesterday morning as I was driving the children to school. It was so bizarre that for a millisecond I thought I had gone back in time.

I was driving down Meadowbrook (for those of you who know Lawton) and the 80's channel on satellite radio started blaring Bon Jovi's "You Give Love a Bad Name". Suddenly I was transported to a moment in 1986 when I was at the exact same spot on the exact same street on my way to a Halloween dance. I was dressed all in black with my hair slicked into a bun so I would look like one of the girls in the Robert Palmer videos. As I was driving along and painting my nails blood red, I was singing along to Bon Jovi's "You Give Love a Bad Name".

So, was it deja vu or a bad 80's flashback? Once I returned to the 21st century I wondered a few things. One, why was I listening to the 80's channel in the first place? Two, what in the world made me think I should dress up like a girl in a Robert Palmer video? I was totally sober when I made that decision.

I had a brief longing for the 80's. Why? It was a simpler time, at least it was if you were a teen. Still, there was so much we didn't know then that we do now and I wish I could still be that clueless. I would prefer not to know that love will only break your heart, that sex isn't the be-all-end-all that we thought it was at 17 and that you can give peace all the chances you want, but it's never going to happen.

I don't think I could go back to the neon colored clothes, acid-washed jeans and big hair, but it wouldn't be so bad to be young and innocent again, just for a little while.

Two More! (and I passed my Mid-Term!)

I've had two more pieces published at Associated Content. Neither of these were for pay, but I'm enjoying the comments I'm getting. Mostly, I am just enjoying writing again. Here are the links:

www.associatedcontent.com/article/68455/teach_your_kids_to_live_
in_the_real.html

If you are right leaning or pro-war, you may want to avoid this one :-)

www.associatedcontent.com/article/68461/scammed_into_war.html

I'm also breathing a sigh of relief over the sociology mid-term. I took it this AM and got an "A", so I can at least sleep tonight instead of studying!

The gallbladder comes out Monday. Gee, I can't wait. *NOT*

Here she is.....

Miss America.

Zoe had the honor of meeting the reigning Miss America, Jennifer Barry, yesterday. Miss America was formerly Miss Oklahoma and is from Tulsa. Her family is from Lawton. The William H. Hamilton Digital Facility where Scott works is named after her late grandfather. She made a visit there yesterday morning where she learned about the facility and then posed for pictures and signed autographs.



Zoe was (and still is) thrilled beyond belief although she had no idea who Miss America was until I explained it to her. I'm sure we will be watching the pageant next time around since Lawton's own Lauren Nelson is Miss Oklahoma and we'll be cheering for her.

Check Your Ta-Tas!!

As October passes and I see a proliferation of pink ribbons everywhere I go, I feel compelled to remind every woman I know that early detection is currently our best weapon in the fight against breast cancer.

Check your breasts, schedule your exams and mammograms and make sure your ta-tas are healthy!!

My mother-in-law died of breast cancer in 1994 at the age of 52. This insidious disease robbed her of the opportunity to ever see the beautiful girls Blaire, Zoe and Brynne and of course the handsome Zachary. Brooke was not even a year old when her grandmother died.

Don't think you are too young. Don't think it can't happen to you. It can.

Show your family how much you love them, take care of your health!

Published *AND* Paid!

It's been awhile since I've blogged, but things around here have been more than a bit hectic. I've got school, PTA, class reunion and my gallbladder needs to come out.

There is good news in my world, though! I've had two pieces of writing published this week. I even got paid for one of them :-)

www.associatedcontent.com/article/68226/summer_nights.html

www.associatedcontent.com/article/67257/
why_you_should_visit_the_wichita_mountains.html

It's not the "Great American Novel", but it gave me a warm fuzzy anyway. I have several other articles that I have submitted and hopefully they will be accepted.

I'm also publishing content at www.xomba.com I posted my first piece there today. It's a bit of humor dealing with a family vacation. It can be viewed here.

http://www.xomba.com/vacation_all_i_ever_wanted

Kilroy, if you are reading this, I haven't forgotten you! I'm going to catch up with your blog this weekend.

Thanks everyoe for supporting me in quest for the impossible :-)

Insomnia

One might think that the most amazing thing about being awake at two in the morning is simply the fact that you cannot sleep, but it's not. The most amazing thing is what you think about.

I found myself thinking of all the words that start with ab. Abdomen, absolution, abuse, about, abstract and the list went on and on. That should be enough to bore anyone into a blissful slumber, but no.

I moved on to my nightly dissection of all the things that are wrong in my life. By the time I got to the end of the list I should have been comatose, but again, no.

I pondered exactly how many loads of laundry are sorted and sitting in my hallway right now. I made a mental note to remember to take the softball trophies to school to give to the girls that missed the end of season party. Another mental note was made to send lunch money for Zachary. Oh, one more mental note made to take PTA parent volunteer forms to fellow coordinator. Tomorrow when I have forgotten to do one or more of these things I will wish I had made written notes.

I start wondering why smell and music are such powerful memory keys. I remember getting a whiff of Dove soap the other day and thinking of my grandmother and how that was her smell; that and Listerine. Why do certain songs imprint themselves on the moments we heard them being played? If you are Paul McCartney, Elton John, Don Henley or some other talented songwriter how do you reconcile yourself to the fact that you have produced something that can instantly transport a person to another place in time when just a few notes of it are played?

I worry about whether or not I will be able to obtain a mental grasp on College Algebra or should I drop it for now. I won't have any better grasp on it later, but I can't afford anything lower than a "B" at the moment. On the other hand I need the hours.

I think it's time to start my daily pleadings with God to help me and to make everything alright. Then I realize He has and I have screwed up all the opportunities He has given me.

Silver Strands

(This is the beginning of a new piece. It's nowhere near finished, but I want opinions. Kilroy- let me know what you think!)

Some would have called her a “tough old bird”. They didn’t know her too well. In many ways, that is exactly who she was, but she was so many other people as well. She was no stranger to adversity, which had made her self-reliant, but tenderness tempered the staid exterior.

When they were 13 and 6, Elsie and Hazel had a baby sister. They were entrusted to care for Lottie who was bright and watched all that went on around her with a careful eye. Hazel might not have been the most reliable of child care providers since she spent quite a bit of time seeing how far she could walk with her eyes closed and ended up sporting a scab on the bridge of her nose most of the time.

Lottie was the daughter of Samuel, a cabinetmaker and farmer, who brought his wife and three daughters to Indian Territory by covered wagon. A sickly man, his beloved wife, Jennie became the backbone of this family.

______________________________


Two years of business courses at Southwestern Oklahoma State were enough for Lottie. It was the Roaring Twenties- a time of decadence and newfound independence for American women. A job that was available in a local store tempted her away from school and brought her true love.

Tall, with a wavy black bob and twinkling blue eyes, her grace, strength and goodness won the heart of Charles, a fellow employee. He was 10 years her senior, a Belarussian immigrant and Jewish. It wasn’t a conventional match, but conventionality was not her strong point. The spinning of a thread had begun; a thread that would weave a family and stitch it together tightly.

Six months after their marriage the stock market crashed and the Depression was beginning; hardship would come into the lives of everyone.

______________________________


When it was time to take the eggs and produce to town to be sold Jennie dressed in her Sunday best, hitched the horse to the cart and off she went. Once, the horse had an explosive accident while trotting down the road. A lesser woman would have quit and called it a day, but Jennie went home, cleaned up and got back on her way.

While the other women of the town concentrated on selling their wares to the genteel townspeople, Jennie knew that the local bordello was full of women with money to spend and she could earn a better income there. The other farm wives talked about the disgrace of her behavior, but she knew that the money of the “working girls” spent just as well as anyone else’s.
______________________________

.
In the early 1930’s Charles and Lottie settled in Anadarko, a small town in Southwest Oklahoma where Charles had a job as a store clerk. They weathered the Depression with the dignity of two people who had already seen their share of difficult times; Charles having witnessed the persecution of Jews during the Russian pogroms when he was still young Chaim and Lottie growing up poor with a father whose health prevented him from being much of a provider.