A Sad Day

A very sad day indeed.

I spoke about a very dear friend of mine awhile back in a post. (click here) She is the subject of that first paragraph.

It seems her husband (of about 30 years I would guess, I'm not exactly sure) was working on the van on Saturday. She was out, probably running some do-gooder errands like taking sick people bowls of chicken soup and such.

She returned home to find her husband crushed under the van. He had already passed away.


The love of her life. The man who STILL took her on "dates" and out dancing. The man she exchanged perfume with every Valentine's Day. They already had their vacation to Hawaii planned for when school ends in May.

Not too long ago, she told me how she dealt with being "upset" with him. He would ask "What's wrong?" She would say, "Nothing." He would say, "Your awfully quiet. Something's wrong." She would answer, "I'm meditating."

Of course when she shared this I was in a fit of laughter. Because that is what she has always been best at - helping other people feel good.

Her catch phrase has always been, "Spread the Joy." One year for her birthday I gave her a wooden purse and painted "Joy" on it. She carried it to our Art Museum outing. The sales lady in the gift shop kept calling her Joy. We just giggled.

About 5 years ago, she lost her younger brother suddenly - heart attack. Almost exactly a year later, her mother passed away. She took both extremely hard but you would never have known it to see her.

I called today and another friend was at the house fielding phone calls. Actually, my friend was out 'making arrangements.' Of course I asked what I could do and offered to pick up family members at the airport, since I live close by.

Amazingly, she took me up on the offer. I picked up her husband's sister and drove her to my friend's home.

As I drove home, it occured to me that my services weren't really needed. She probably just let me do it so I would feel like I had helped. So I could feel better.

I didn't stay long at her house. She had family and more were expected.

We hugged. I told her I loved her. She told me to keep the joy. I told her to hang in there.

Someone so beautiful inside and out shouldn't have so much pain. I am angry.

Favorite Stuff

Today is a day for favorites. Why? We are going to a really nice restaurant tonight that just happens to be my favorite. Well, one of them. We are headed to Dierdorf and Hart's. http://www.dierdorfharts.com/

Why do I love it?? They have the best steaks. Terrific vegetables. Nice atmosphere. Amazing desserts.

I have favorites of everything. And if I don't, I always figure out what is my favorite. Such as, my favorite nail polish is Dutch Tulips by OPI. I have a favorite lipstick, a favorite pair of shoes, a favorite pair of earrings, a favorite coffee cup, a favorite song, a favorite movie, and the list goes on. You get the idea.

Hubby on the other hand, has no favorites. He is hard pressed to even come up with a color. But I have finally nailed him down to "gray." It only took 5 years of constant asking to get him to admit he likes a color that most people don't even notice!

How can this be? How can you not have strong opinions, emotions or feelings about things?

So I am doing a theme today. All my blogs are getting my "favorites" posted according to what they are about. I think I'll do favorite dive spots and favorite dive gear for the scuba spot, and I will post my all time favorite pics on the photo site.

Here? Well this spot is about everything and anything.

Hubby just read this and of course tells me I am nuts. To prove a point he pointed to my hot rollers and said, "Okay, which one of these is your favorite?" Well of course it's the second to smallest size rollers. That was just way too easy. But he was highly surprised I had one. And yes, I had even thought about it before he just asked. See? I have favorites for everything.

And YOU are one of my favorites - cause you read my posts! :)

Beeper, the bird who proved the saying

Have you ever noticed how many bird sayings there are?? The early bird gets the worm, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, etc. Why is this?

Anyway, I got sidetracked. I am here today to tell you the story of Beeper. Beeper was a little zebra finch I had. He was named by my hubby, who has names for everything (see older post). He got his name because he beeped a lot. On early sunny mornings he had another name, which I won't put here (trying to keep it clean folks ;). Beeper even had a wife later on in life - Mrs. Beeper. And they had babies, and the one we ended up keeping was, yes, you guessed it, Baby Beeper.

But none of this matters. The story is starting to get lost, so I will now begin.

Beeper spent his summers in a cage on the back deck. He loved it out there. Other birds would often come land on his cage and chat with him. Sometimes they would eat some of his millet that was hanging on the side. He was a very tiny bird and even the smallest of wild birds were like giants to him.

One day Beeper found out he could slide through the bars of his cage. I chased him around the backyard trees for hours with a butterfly net and a towel (how I usually caught him inside). He wasn't a good flier because he hadn't had much practice. But he was getting it now.

For three days, I couldn't catch him. He stayed nearby though and I could hear him taunting me and beeping while I laid their sunbathing.

On the fourth day, I heard the familiar beep once again. It sounded close. Really close.

No lie, he was in his cage.

He had come back. (I guess hunger and fear beat him and we had left the cage propped open just in case this kinda thing might happen.)

And believe it or not, this very same thing happened the next summer when hubby "accidentally" (so he says - we had been having lots of sunny early mornings) left the cage door open.

So twice he was "let free" and twice he came back. I guess he loved me after all :)

As an extra side note lesson of the day, all my pictures of Beeper were on my computer. The computer died (and so has Beeper) and I didn't have an external hard drive at the time. Hence, I have no pictures of this wonderful little bird.

Whoopee!

We had our Valentine party at school today because the kids have a day off tomorrow (grade recording day).

They played Valentine bingo. Everyone got three prizes a piece (they played until everyone won).

Some of the "prizes" were whoopee cushions. The kids had so much fun with them! Go buy one if you haven't had one in awhile. Nothing says love like a good joke with a whoopee cushion!

Scaries

(This is my pet tarantula, Annie)

My poor sister. She is such a mess. And it is all my fault (and when she reads this she will say it is all true.) Weena, this cannot be used in a court of law as admission to any guilt whatsoever :) (hehe)

She is afraid. Of a lot. And that is all my fault.

It started when we were little. We had bunk beds. I made my hand look as spider/tarantula like as possible and walked it down the wall our beds were pushed up to. I was sure to scare her.

But she bit me!

I screamed and something like the following conversation ensued.

"What's going on in there? You two better get to bed." (mom from the living room)


"AHHHHH" (me still screaming and crying)


The light flips on. "Well what's wrong?"(uh oh, mom's come in)


"Weena bit me." (me)


"Why?" (mom)


"Well, I was trying to scare her. And pretended I was a spider." (me)


"Well good for her." (mom)


"But why would you bite a humongous spider???" (me) I just KNEW my hand looked exactly like a spider coming down the wall


In the ensueing years, there were many more times I scared her. But the best/worst was just INSANE.

We were home alone (I was probably like 14 and she was 10). I had been downstairs/basement family room watching TV and she was up in mom and dad's room watching TV. It was night and mom and dad had to leave for a meeting. But she didn't know I had stayed home.

But I didn't know she didn't know I had stayed home. (which is important later in the story as I try to redeem myself)

So, as this was normal for us, I snuck upstairs. I waited and waited in the kitchen for her to come in for a snack. I probably waited a good 20 minutes just inside the kitchen from the hallway. (I didn't have anything else to do!)

Finally, here she comes. I knew it was going to be good.

Before she flipped the kitchen switch, I jumped out and yelled really loud "AHHHHHHHHH"





The poor thing collapsed!





So then I KNEW I was gonna get it cause I had just killed my sister.

Then she started screaming. (oh good, she was alive)

I had to let her know it was me so I just hugged her and said, "It's just me" over and over as she rocked and cried.

So there it is. I have ruined all scary movies and books for her. She hears noises in her house. And it is all my fault.

Maybe I could sneak over there one night outside . . . hehehe :) Nah, she might bite me.