powered by SignMyGuestbook.com

Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... Finding the nativity An accelerated rate To tell the secrets of my prison-house House and a shelf

2001-09-04 - 8:03 a.m. The Aunt Gig Score one for us - no leftovers made it into the car. We had a good weekend visiting my Mom, brother and sister-in-law, and (the star attraction) my 13 month old nephew, Ryan. Anyone that doesn't want to hear about my adorable nephew, Ryan, and my honorary nephew, Adam, bail out now. Things on learned on the drive: If I blow in my PPG squeeze bottle straw, it makes this amazing whistling noise, which delights at least one person not named Rob. I had plastic tube toy as a child that you could whirl over your head to produce this sound. Rob puts an early stop to this game (pout) and we go back to chatting around the U.K. trip plans. We made it to Marion around 11 p.m. Friday night, spent a while chatting with my mother before crashing. Saturday morning, we had brunch around 10:30 a.m. In self-defense, I requested protein friendly bacon and eggs. True to form, Mom had to cook too much food and added, 2 dozen biscuits, a cantaloupe, a watermelon, sausage, gravy, a pineapple, and four kinds of jelly. She apologized profusely that Roland didn't get his favorite fruit, cherries, but the three grocery stores in town (yes, she got up at 6 a.m. and went foraging for groceries) didn't have any. Gotta love my Mom. Baby Ryan is running everywhere now, playing with books and balls and he's just a hoot. Mom found the pictures of baby Wendy at 16 months barricaded into a corner with a book - Ryan and I have the same hair. Saturday afternoon my best friend from high school, Jenny, came up for a visit. Jenny's the kind of friend that even if we haven't talked in six months, we just pick up and go - best friends as always. I miss and love my Jenny, but I still think smiley faces have noses. (We've fought about that since grade four.) We dished dirt about a million people you've never heard of and I got the report on her son, Adam. (Adam didn't get to make a personal appearance because the in-laws had kidnapped my boy - so no new pictures, Mel.) Adam started his new daycare class last week and he's been coming home every day with scrapes and bruises from overeager playground participation trying to keep up with the four year olds. Two days of new scrapes and Jenny was thinking they'd have to change day care arrangements if Adam didn't stop his precocious ways. So his father decides it time to talk some sense into Adam. Dad, sitting on Adam's bed just as the 3 year old is waking up: Son, your mother is worried to death. You've just got to be more careful. Adam, rolls over and sighs. He looks at his dad and say: I know. I know. I just don't know what's gotten into me lately. Now his mom is thinking - this, this from a 3 year old? That's my boy. Mom spent Saturday afternoon cooking dinner. Artichoke dip, steak (two extra just in case), three pounds of shrimp, salad, spinach casserole, twelve slices of bread, all the fruit from brunch, baked potatoes, and three kinds of dessert. We were only up to six people. Sunday morning was church at 9 a.m. The music was mediocre and the minister (who is the third new one since I left home - Methodist church's rotate their clergy) wasn't that great. If you insist on having two choral selections, four hymns, and three sung crowd responses, could you find something with a little spirit in it? Sheesh. The problem with church and me is that I was spoiled. During my formative years, our church had a preacher named Fred Austin, the best speaker I've ever known. I swear, this man was far better than Billy Graham. You had to get to church a minimum of fifteen minutes before service or there were no seats left. Rev. Austin was promoted, of course, so we didn't get to keep him long. He's retired now, but I still miss that man. My other favorite preacher is Harry Howe. Harry came to Marion as the minister of my grandmother's church when I was about thirteen. Mom was busy fixing lunch and sent me to answer the door. Here's Harry - an overly skinny guy in a checked shirt, torn jeans, a blond afro and a bushy beard. I'm thinking - 'hippie salesman go away' and trying to close the door in his face when Mom comes out the kitchen holding a knife dripping red sauce from the cherry icing on the cake she'd been cutting. Harry looks at my Mom, looks at the knife, gulps and bravely puts out his hand. "I'm the new preacher at Mt. Carmel and everyone said I just had to come meet Mrs. Sharpe's daughter, Anna Carolyn. I nearly died of teenage embarrassment, having been so rude to a minister. Harry preaches in jeans and a T-shirt. He does mission work. He has a hairdresser for a wife - which explains his original debut in the blond afro. And he's the best Christian I know. Harry simply glows, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, you can tell he is thrilled to be a Christian without him saying a word. He's the minister that married Rob and I. Sunday afternoon was the epitome of small town laziness. We had brunch after church (leftovers that had accumulated from the previous meals). Then we took our bikes over to my brother's house. They live on Race Blvd, which is the neighborhood on what was the horse track eons ago. The road still follows an oval half mile that's just perfect for laps on bikes. My sister-in-law, Rob and I took our bikes out for the first time this season while my Mom watched baby Ryan nap. Perfect summer day in the mountains. Ryan woke up and we played and played in his ball bus. It's a big inflatable school bus full of the balls - like the kid's ball rooms in McDonald's. Oh, Ryan likes to throw the balls. Oh, Aunt has bad aim and bonks Uncle Rob on the nose. (Sorry, honey.) After my brother made it back from his call (he's town rescue squad - EMT/paramedic), we packed up and went to the Wellness center so my brother and sister-in-law could swim laps. Aunt, uncle and Nana got baby duty and a tour. Let me say, if I had a gym this nice, I'd use it more often. It's a fantastic facility. Mom knew everyone there (small town). They let Ryan burble into the gym intercom so you could hear his laughter echoing through the entire place. Aunt took Ryan onto the basketball court and let him empty the ball rack, much to his joy. I'm impressed a thirteen month old can pick up and bounce a basketball twice as big as his head - and aunts are there just to let nephews do things they shouldn't - like throw ten basketballs all over the court. We wandered through the cardio room, the weight area, the pool, the racquetball court, the track - but Ryan kept trying to following the bouncing sounds back to the basketball court. I've created a monster. We had dinner with the family before heading out Sunday night. Burgers and chicken on the grill. Again, excessively much food for the number of people. We headed out of there about 6 p.m. and made to Maryland around 11 p.m. I think we counted ten cops on the way, but no tickets for us. We did pass a convoy of seven Z3's - the BMW sports car - I wonder if there was a convention? And I wonder why they let an SUV pass them? Things I learned on Monday: Do not go near an office supply store the day before school starts. I needed envelopes for the MoL packet mailing and I barely made it out alive. There were big family arguments about gel pens going on in there. The Witchblade marathon ran again, thanks to the wonders of VCR technology while I put together this quarter's MoL packets and did all the filing. Yes, all those things filled out at Atlantia list tables, end up sorted and filed. The files are kind of fun - archaeology of the Kingdom - finding Forgal's original authorization form. Things I learned on Tuesday: It's hard to find a mailbox with room for 142 MoL packets. It took three mailbox stops to get those things mailed. � � Scribble to Theo previous - next �