Showing posts with label My Childhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label My Childhood. Show all posts

Friday, April 20, 2012

Why Ironing is Hazardous to Your Health

You know all those silly, embarrassing, thoughtless things you do as a kid.  The things no one ever really needs to find out about ever.  The nice thing about those silly things is that as you grow older no one really remembers to tell the embarrassing tale.

Unless of course you have loving siblings who make sure you never live that one moment of carelessness down.

Yes, my friends.  I am one of those loving siblings who will never stop torturing my little sister for that one time she had that incident with the iron.
And now I bring it to a whole new level.  Because instead of my usual continual reminders and teasing, I am now posting it for the whole world to read.  Or at least you know the handful of people who actually read my blog.

Bwahahaha.  Sibling love!

Friday, April 6, 2012

For the Love of Laundry

Last year I told you how much I hate doing dishes.

This year I am going to let you in on a shocking secret.

I love doing laundry!
I know!  I know!  I don't deserve to call myself Non-Domestic.

But hear me out.

I started doing my own laundry when I was about ten years old.  Not because I was forced or even encouraged to.  I'm sure my mom made the casual comment, "Why don't you do your own laundry."  In response to some complaint of mine that this shirt wasn't clean or that skirt or whatever.  I doubt she actually expected me to take her seriously.  But I did.

And so it began.

I soon discovered the joy of laundry.

Maybe it's a bit strange but I used to love standing in the laundry room and listening to the sound of the washing machine.  It was always so soothing.  It was quiet.  I had peace and solitude in that room.  In the spring birds would lay eggs in the laundry room vent so the sound of baby chicks would mix with the swoosh of the washer and the smell of clean.


Now in case you are getting too freaked out by my confession, I'll let you know the entire truth.  Yes, I love to wash the laundry.


Friday, June 3, 2011

A Little Friend

I was about 14 at the time.  In my own room.  All to myself.  Except for a little friend.  He visited me at night.  Scuffle rustle.  In the wall above my head.  He was foraging for his little family.  Hello little friend, I would whisper.  Too loud and he would quiet.  Startled by my presence.  So I whispered.  Told him to care for that little family.  Hoping they were safe and sound somewhere, in their little nest, deep in the recesses of the attic.  Rustle scuffle.  Away he would go.
Then one night.

Scuffle rustle, scratch.

I was alert.  

That sound wasn't coming from it's usual place!

My friend wasn't in the wall above my head.

He was in my nightstand!

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The Black Dreams

When I was about five years old I watched a movie with my father.  The details of how I managed to watch the movie are a little fuzzy.  I am not sure if he was aware I was watching it with him or not.  However the movie itself has been etched forever in my mind.

Twenty plus years later I decided I must find this old movie.  The movie that so impressed itself on my five year old mind, I could still practically recite it by heart.

To my surprise, without remembering anything about the title or any of the actors, I was able to recite some of those lines to my dear friend Google and find that movie.  My husband then tracked it down and bought it for me.

In particular I remembered a certain song.  The song that for so long haunted me.

Because it visited me in my dreams.  My nightmares.

Every night I would awake screaming.  Mommy!  He was there.  He was in my room.  I can still see him.  He is just as vivid now as he was then.  I remember my pounding heart.  The cold sweat.  My quick heavy breaths as I gasped for air.  He was right there in my room, looking over my bed.  He appeared on my window shade.  The clown with his wide menacing grin.  As I screamed he calmly sang his song.  As I cried and pleaded for my mother to come he danced his little dance.

My parents would calm me and tell me that it was just a dream.  That he could not hurt me.  But I SAW him. He was there.  Maybe he couldn't hurt me in real life but he had power in my dreams.  They would tell me it was ok.  I could go back to sleep.  But that was his realm.  He would be there waiting for me.  He was always there waiting for me.  And so I would end up sleeping in their bed for the night.

This is what he sang . . .

Thursday, April 21, 2011

Wait . . . Easter is When?!?!?

Well, if you read my blog, you know by now that I am a bit of a procrastinator.  I am also colossally bad at plan making or really anything that requires any kind of an actual . . . you know . . . decision .  That very word makes me cringe.

This is the part where most of you are expecting me to start running around in a panic when I realize I am entirely unprepared for Easter.

Guess what?

I did prepare.

I KNOW!!!!

What is this world coming to?  You just can't rely on anyone anymore.  People just keep letting you down right?

Seriously.  I came up with a plan.  A PLAN!

See, this year I started doing that thing parents eventually do when they decide that society is going to ruin their kids and they have to fight the influences blah blah blah etc.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

My First Companion - Rest In Peace Elisabeth Sladen

I can't say for sure how old I was the first time I saw it.  Fairly young I think.  Maybe 8?  I simply remember a fleeting glance and a quick dismissal of, "That's weird."

I'm pretty sure I was 11 when I had my real introduction.  Again the details are a bit fuzzy.  I can't nail down the exact moment.  I'm not even clear on the specific episode.  I do however remember my first Doctor.


Yes.  Who.


No.  Who.

Doctor Who.

Cue theme music.  Bum bum bum bum.  Bum bum bum bum.  Bum bum bum bum.  Bum bum bum bum.  Woo eeee ooooo.   Ooooo ooooo ooooooo.