Writing My Life

Now and Then

Category Archives: … just another entry …

I refuse to state the obvious!


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… the monkey bites again, part 1 …

The biggest, blackest lie I remember telling was in second grade. One spring day Mrs. Quidor announced our class was going to organize a pet parade. While nearly all my friends cheered the news, I did not. I think I was the only child who had NO cat, dog, bunny, turtle, or fish to parade around the school.

It isn’t as if I had not owned a pet. Indeed I went through a slew of mammals, reptiles, and birds. Here’s a short history of what I remember:

  1. A puppy that was hit by a car – I swear I saw tiny angels carry away the body. (Mom doesn’t remember this dog – dead or alive.)
  2. A Pekingese named Nicky that my mom gave away because of too much barking and shedding.

  3. Apparently dyed chicks are still popular in IRAN!!!

    Dyed chicks. As in purple, blue, or pink. Seriously. Around Easter, retailers would give away little LIVE PeePs as part of some sort of promotion. I don’t know how many times we talked Mom and Dad into taking a couple home, but I doubt it was more than once after they found me rocking my colorful but DEAD new pet.

  4. Hand-painted turtles. I believe the shoe store that sold Buster Brown shoes gave away these amphibians around school-shopping season. They were creatively painted in a multitude of colors, but once again, they died almost before we could get them home. I understand it had something to do with paint softening the shells. I’ll bet money the bright colored designs were also applied with lead-based paint. WHAT WERE PEOPLE THINKING????

Rather than to admit that “I was BETWEEN pets,” I reported to Mrs. Quidor that I would bring MY PET MONKEY to the parade, and NO, it was NOT a stuffed monkey, but the real deal. (Please don’t ask why I came up with such an exotic lie. I don’t know. The closest thing I had to a monkey was indeed a stuffed one – Ms. Phoebe B. Beebe, live-in girlfriend to J.Fred Muggs; my sister owned the Freddy version. The two stuffed animals honored Dave Garroway’s guest and co-hosts on the Today Show. Of course, I didn’t know all that then. )

At any rate, I reported the daily shenanigans of the pet monkey to my teacher and classmates. For some reason, Mrs. Quidor sort of went along with the story, asking me questions in an attempt to either trip me up or to guilt me into truth-telling. But I was dedicated to the BIG LIE and continued on until the day AFTER a PTA meeting.

Surprised that Mom and Dad didn’t return and question me about the mysterious monkey that supposedly lived in our house, I thought I had pulled off the ruse, OR that Mrs. Q. decided NOT to throw me under the bus. But when I walked into the classroom that day, she immediately called me up to her desk to tell me that she had chatted with my folks.

“Renae, your mom and dad didn’t seem to know anything about a monkey,” she said.

Rather than fold, I just looked her in the eye, and with tears in mine, reported that my poor little pet had been hit by a car, and I no longer owned a monkey, and therefore, had NO pet to carry, lead, or drag through the pet parade.

I don’t remember her response. I just recall that I was awarded the honor of leading the parade wearing a majorette hat my mom made. Now, here is the irony of the whole incident: a stray puppy wandered onto the school grounds JUST IN TIME for the parade, and guess who got to carry him.

By all rights, this story of dishonest mischief should NOT have ended this way. But it did, and here is a newspaper clipping to prove it!


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… seagull makes guest-appearance on beach video …

I so enjoy listening to the pounding of the surf and watching those waves roll in, but most of all I love seeing these “boys of summer” run, jump, and dive into the icy water with abandon. So fun.

I don’t even mind the flashes of little beach-girls running back and forth in front of the camera. (The lazy camera-person refused to move from the beach chair for a better angle, and so it’s NOT really their fault.) But I would love this clip even more if I could drown out the videographer’s annoying snickers. It could be very therapeutic – almost like a trip to the spa. 😀

Oh, and one of my favorite snippets is the surprise entrance of a friendly but homely seagull. Hope you find this as entertaining as I do.


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… at the beach …

Okay, this is a first. I’ve upgraded my WordPress account so I can add videos I have taken. Now, a few disclaimers:

  1. I am a pathetic videographer – don’t worry about me leaving my day job for this field.
  2. There will be some herky-jerky motion, and so I suggest a dose of Dramamine before viewing the filmed clips.
  3. Turn down the volume to avoid hearing the twanging Gramma comments and ridiculous laughter.

On the up side, the subjects of the videos are adorable, AND the clips aren’t very long. Prepare to be UNDERwhelmed! 😀

  • Clip Number 1: Interview with Sunset Beachcomber, Miss Abigail.


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… it’s a miracle or at least an amazing coincidence …

Last night – after chowing down on post-travel chips, dips, and Whoppers because there wasn’t any REAL food in the house that didn’t require cooking and stuff – I committed to eat only good-for-you food. So this morning, I crunched Grape-nuts smothered in Activia blueberry yogurt and then decided to chase it down with low sodium V-8 juice. (I only love V-8 IF it’s loaded with salt! But a commitment is a commitment! Right?)

Because the bottle was fresh from the pantry, thus warm, I filled my juice glass with ice cubes. When I poured in the V-8, my drink SMILED at me. SERIOUSLY. (See the picture below.)

I know this incident doesn’t equate with the potatoes that look likes Jesus, but the image of the Walmart smiley face did make me happy about this morning’s food choice! 😉

image


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… “phoney” blog posts …

Just tried the new “call-in-a-post” tool offered by WP. My short-term memory loss interrupted the directions before I signed off, and so I’m not sure what will happen next. My question is whether or not the verbal entry will end up as …

A. a written post B. an audio link C. lost in space

Until the mystery is solved, here is a picture or 2 or 3 taken at Sunset Beach – south of Santa Cruz. The SUN actually SET behind many layers of clouds! It may have been cold, but it was F.U.N.

NOTE: This post AND “random Nevada thoughts” were created 100% from my G1 phone – including pix! The G1 is an older Android – old as in tech years where 12 months equals 75 human years. At least, that’s what I understand.




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… random thoughts along nevada’s highway …

image

A "phone"picture

Happy (?) hubby at swanky motel room! : )

G.E. & I have traveled I-80 north more times than we can count, and trust me when I say it is NOT an exciting stretch of road. Whole novels can be read, MANY life stories recited, and dozens of cat naps taken without missing a change in scenery.

As a result, the mind wanders as far and wide as the road. So I thought I’d record some of these random nuggets before I forget them.

1. Epiphany – I am a mouth breather! When did this start? Is it because I am out of shape thus out of breath? I need to overcome this subconscious bad habit.

2. I am a book junky AND a book THIEF! While searching through the dozens of books I haven’t yet read, I discovered a few that I borrowed from long-ago friends in far-away places. I decided to hunt down the victims via FaceBook and send messages of apology and volunteer to send said titles back. (I’m hoping they refuse my offer to return Chicken Soup for the Teacher’s Soul and others.)

3. I wonder if I’m expecting. Lately, my stomach has been upset unless there is food in it – just like the good old days of pregnancy. Yucky!

4. I don’t like to go away without saying good bye to loved ones. Not because I think something bad is GOING to happen but because I am going to miss them. And when I leave my California kids, I’ll miss them before we’re even out of the driveway.

5. I must be getting old. I haven’t finished the Twilight series, and I don’t care if I do I haven’t watched the New Moon DVD yet. A neighbor went with her daughters and said she was embarrassed to be seen there because it was too sensual – she must be getting old, too. (Maybe I’ll wear a burka if I go. Nah, I’ll wait for the DVD and embarrass myself in the privacy of our basement family room.)

6. I hope we can find a room in Winnemucca. I hear there’s a lot happenin’ in that town. (Omigosh! We got the last room after checking out 3 places that looked respectable. It was a smoking room, but luckily this room wears a nicotine patch, and so we won’t be asphyxiated or die of 2nd-hand smoke!)

P. S. The smokey smell crept in during the night! Grrrrrr.


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… virtuous OR conniving naomi? …

We’re studying the Old Testament in Sunday School. And I have to say there are as many BAD role models in that body of scripture as there are GOOD ones. Sunday night G.E., Mom, and I were talking about O.T. adulterers – like David and Bathsheba. Then our conversation turned to incestuous relationships found in the scriptures – not exactly a great spiritual conversation for the Sabbath, but there it is.       

We also talked about our families, and that’s when I thought about the Bible, especially the Old Testament, as being a collection of family stories. Like all family stories, patriarchs and matriarchs may not have wanted all of their issues made public, but those ancient prophets had their own social networks that recorded and shared TMI. (Note to Mom: “TMI” means “too much information.” It’s texting shorthand.)        

As with today’s families, some ancient mothers, fathers, and children served as great examples at times, but failed upon other occasions. (Think of Abraham trying to pawn off his wife Sarah as his sister –  or what about Sarah’s ill-timed laugh when angels predicted her forthcoming pregnancy? And those are just mild examples.)       

Even when Biblical figures are doing their best, modern readers and critics can find fault. For example, I have long admired Naomi – mother-in-law extraordinaire. So good to her daughters-in-law Ruth and Orpah that they did not want to leave her after their young husbands died. As a widow beyond child-bearing years, Naomi had NO rights and thus NOTHING to offer the two loyal women.       

Ruth and Naomi

 

Although Orpah finally gave into Naomi’s advice and returned home to start a multi-million dollar media industry – oh, wait. Wrong story. That was OPRAH. Nevertheless, ORPAH tearfully left her mother-in-law and went her way. But Ruth not only chose to be with Naomi, she traveled with her to Judah, converted to Judaism, served Naomi and listened to her when she advised Ruth to propose to Boaz!       

Most hail Ruth for her loving loyalty and Naomi for her resourcefulness in procuring a future for her daughter-in-law and herself, along with ensuring the continuation of the royal line of David through which the Savior would be born. However, there are scholars and critics alike that view Naomi differently. While not all feminist assessments of her found in the Jewish Women’s Archive, are negative, I found these views of Naomi quite interesting. They demonstrate that everything and everybody is open to interpretation – even those with the best of intentions … or the worst.       

  • Naomi is a cipher – having no weight, worth, or influence – for male values that find fulfillment for women in marriage and children. (Grrrr. I won’t even comment on this denigrating opinion.)
  • Naomi is an overbearing, interfering, and domineering mother-in-law. (So, did she “guilt” Ruth into sticking with her?)
  • Naomi and Ruth are rivals, with Naomi eventually achieving the greater prestige. (Are feminists inferring that Naomi wanted Boaz for herself OR just access to his wealth and prestige?)
  • Naomi schemes, connives, and manipulates. (Hmmm? Is that a bad thing?)
  • Naomi is an embittered old woman who denounces God for her troubles but fails to thank the deity when she recovers. (Well, she did want to be called Mara, which means “Bitter” instead of Naomi that means “Pleasant.”)

While extolling her virtues and listing possible weaknesses, the usual consensus is that “Naomi is a profound figure of faith who experiences God as enemy but then wrestles blessing from adversity.” As such, Naomi, like many Biblical heroes and heroines, function as spiritual beings struggling through the mortal experience. Like them, each of us battle our weaknesses, sometimes winning; occasionally losing, but ultimately hoping to win the war against whatever plagues us.       

I LOVE the Old Testament stories and the New Testament hope of forgiveness, atonement, and charity as told through the life, ministry, death, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I hope I can only be as good as the weakest of those ancient peoples, especially the noble women whose stories are few.


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… exTENDuating circumstances ~ another hairy story …

Sometimes I’m gutsy. Not skydiving/bungee-cord-jumping gutsy; not face-lift/Botox/implant gutsy; not cosmetic tatoo gutsy … Hmmm. I’m revising this intro. I am NOT gutsy. Nevertheless, I did experiment with – drumroll, please – HAIR EXTENSIONS! Bet you didn’t even notice. (Only one person did – my boss/friend/colleague, Carolyn.)

In fact, I’ll wager that most will think my 3-hour adventure at the salon was a waste of time. But it was not! For a variety of reasons:

  1. It was cheap. Wonder-stylist Jessica advertised on Facebook that she would attach the REAL hair extensions for the price of the hair only. When I stopped by the fancy hair boutique, she estimated the total cost which equaled what I usually pay for a cut ‘n color!
  2. It was charitable. Charitable??? You ask. Yes! While some women grow hair and cut it to donate it to wig-makers for cancer victims, there are some who demand their extensions come from ethical sourcing. For example, the hair I purchased was sourced from Indian Temples that uses “the same traditions and standards” that have existed “for the past 100 years.”  Tonsuring is a Hindu practice, 1000s of years old, wherein people “donate their hair … as a sacrifice to the gods to … give thanks for or to ask for help. The temples … use the money from the sale of the hair to feed the poor and provide … needed resources within their communities” (~ from the Racoon International pamphlet.) Seriously. Of course, I didn’t know that, but I felt all fuzzy inside once I learned that my vanity was a good thing. (At least, I hope this is true. I’m sure I’ll soon learn of horrendous exploitation going on in the hair trade!) 
  3. It was revealing. I have not worn long hair since I was 6 or 7. Okay, I played around with the whole “fall” thing back in 1968-1970, but that was it. While I didn’t want really long hair, I did wish for a more defined A-line (long on sides, short in the back.) Because my hair grows re.a.l.ly s.l.o.w, I knew I’d lose patience before the sides ever made it past my chin. BuT then along came Jessica and her offer to extend the length of my hair; thus I could see how the style looked on me and whether or not it elongated my chubby face.

Curious about the results? Well, here is the before and after. (And yes, the “after” is my new driver’s license photo – not as lovely as my last one, I might add.)

    Unfortunately, I must EXTEND the story a bit because I did NOT like such long sides – didn’t flatter my face like I had hoped. Unfortunately, the only thing that will make my FACIAL cheeks look thinner is to shrink them via the four-letter word that starts with “d” and ends with “t.” So I went back to sweet Jess and asked her to trim the extensions, which she did.

    Silly as it may seem, I’d do it again but I won’t do it again. Make sense? I found out I’m just a short-hair girl, and I don’t even think I’ll keep this style much longer. In fact, I just might go back to the super bouffant of yesteryear. And order it in light brown. So long!


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… the time to hesitate is through …

Ever since moving back to Utah some 6 years ago, I have wanted to attend the Writers and Illustrators for Young Readers Workshop (WIFYR). Formerly held at Brigham Young University, the conference always collided with the Secondary Literacy Institute that I had to attend because of my job. Well, this year, WIFYR was relocated to Waterford, a private school in Sandy, UT, and the Literacy Institute started a week later than it did in year’s past. All this “backstory” is to tell you, I am attending this year BECAUSE “the time to hesitate is through.” Jim Morrison AND my son told me that.

Sooooooooo this is how my first day went – typical Renae. Sigh.

WIFYR – Day 1: Well, I did it: Walked into the auditorium laden with huge, ugly computer bag, Walmart reusable bag filled with books, lunch, and soda, AND my purse to envy. Searching for a seat in the quarter-filled auditorium, I wandered across the front to the empty seats on the south side. Rounding the corner, I TRIPPED over who-knows-what. The carpet? The slight incline? My own 2 feet?

Of course, I SPRAWLED, along with the computer bag, grocery sack, and cute green purse. Books and lunch slid out of the Walmart bag and people came rushing. Well, 2 concerned folk ran to my aid, INCLUDING Brandon Mull. Yes, the Fablehaven author came to my rescue, and all I could say was “I’m all right. I do this all the time.”

Brandon’s reply: “Oh, a grand entrance, huh?” Yeah, I guess you could call it that, but I catalog it as just plain CLUMSY!

Later that morning: My first class with Cherie and Rick, authors extrodinaire, was fun and enlightening. The most rewarding writing segment ignited a plot idea for the story idea I’ve been pondering. YaY.

Afternoon: Great breakout sessions with Alane Ferguson, Young Adult mystery writer – among other things – who talked about “finding your character’s voice.” Lots of good ideas, tips, warnings, etc. (She doesn’t exactly admire Stephanie Meyer’s lack of the writer’s craft.)

And the second session with Brandon Mull was just as great as he shared ideas about strengthing the story by developing 5 essential elements. Brandon was entertaining and honest. Maybe too honest. Upon leaving this breakout session, I realized I’ll be lucky to publish ANYTHING EVER! And luck just does not follow me. Read on.

Late afternoon: Can’t find my keys. Again. I finally remember that I shoved them into the book bag when I sprawled upon the auditorium floor. Of course, the book bag is locked in the morning’s classroom. I call for help. Twenty to thirty minutes later, I meet up with Carlos who VERY KINDLY opens the door for me. I find the keys. Whew!

After 5:00: I head for my PT Cruiser, only to find that the keyless entry won’t work. Why? Because the *#$&% battery is D.E.A.D. Seriously. I’m NOT kidding. It is DEAD! Being an old school sexist, I start looking for MEN with JUMPER CABLES to help me jump start the problem car. Three men later, I get help from Carrie – yes, young, capable, “I-am woman-hear-me-roar,” Carrie. She has jumper cables AND know-how!

A few minutes and a little maneuvering later, the car turns over; I drive from Sandy to the western desert where I live, stopping off to check the battery life. The news: It’s a good battery. What could this mean? A dying alternator, perhaps? OH NO!

And that, my friends, was day 1. (Although I am leaving out the spilled coke and over-flowing toilet episodes.)


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… connor’s candids, or what happens when a 3-yr. old uses gramma’s phone-camera …

In GrammaNae’s defense, this is how it went down. Connor’s mommy never forgets to include snacks regardless of the situation. His daddy, on the other hand, doesn’t usually think of those things, and so he forgot to pack snacks for Connor to eat at his softball game. GrammaNae didn’t bring anything edible EITHER! To top of this tragedy, the snack bar was C.L.O.S.E.D.
Just a few minutes into the 2nd inning (Gramma was surprised he lasted that long), Connor’s meltdown erupted.
“I WANNA GO HOME AND EAT SOMETHING!” he wailed and repeated many times over. Gramma didn’t mean to lie to her grandson as she had every intention of taking him back to her house or to a McDonald’s – whatever came first. But when she told him she’d take him home, he settled right down; and a wonderful lady seated nearby offered to send her son on a food run. Whew. Day saved.
Then came the SECOND game of the DOUBLE-header. French fries had quelled the starving beast within, but now boredom set in. No crying, just whining. And then Connor spotted Gramma’s phone, and asked to play with it.
“Of course,” Gramma, who can never say no to any one of her 10 grandchildren, answered. Nothing good has ever come of letting a grandchild play with her cell phone, but she AND Connor were DESPERATE!
For the next 45 minutes, Connor snapped more than ONE photo PER MINUTE!This meant that he was able to unlock the screen, locate the camera, and start shooting!
Don’t ask. Gramma has no idea; some theories, but nothing concrete.
A couple of days later, she decided she better delete the 50+ photos from my phone to free up some memory. But then she saw Connor’s work! Yes, there were a few pix of paper cups, grass, and cement, but there were also lots of fun shots – random but fun.
SO HERE THEY ARE!

(Well, not ALL of them. Gramma left out the paper cups, grass, and cement. And a few unflattering shots of Gramma.)

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