Vindows, Vacations and Birthday Parties

Things worked out for me to start Barney on his lessons in how to be silly.  Not being terribly interested in watching some of my father-in-law's favorite television shows such as Hee Haw and the Grand Old Opera there was plenty of time for my mind to wander and come up with a plan.  By a stroke of luck the day before we were to go home to Kansas City it was decided that one last fishing trip was in order.  Wally was definitely not interested in going so I volunteered to stay home with him.

With the house all quiet I picked up the phone, dialed his number and heard his very business like hello. With a very thick foreign accent from no particular country and a napkin over the phone I said:

"Mr. Barney, this Gorda Siigniinstiine. I vent to your talk in Chicago and need ask questions."

"Good afternoon, Gorda.  I remember you. How do you spell your last name and how can I help you."

" You no learn ponics in school? It easy, S-i-i-g-n-i-i-n-s-t-i-i-n-e?" You talked on property in your village in money trouble. Vas it in place named Beewood?'

"I believe that it was Leawood, a very nice housing addition. If it is that particular property it is in foreclosure and could be purchased much below market value.  Are you interested in a home in this area or for resale?"

"I buy many homes. Vhat I need to learn is how many Vindows does house have. Vindows very in need. Fresh air come, plants grow and make feel good."

There was several moments of silence except for the sound of papers being shuffled.

"Gorda, I don't seem to find that exact information but I am sure it has sufficient windows."

"I must know exact number.  You go count and I vill call back tomorrow, yah?

"I can do that.  Is there a number where you can be reached?"

"I staying in hotel.  The phone says Dial 9.  Vill dat vork?"

"I don't think so but just be sure to call me tomorrow. It has been so nice talking to you."

"I like talking to you. I vill call tomorrow. Bye, Mr. Barney."

"Goodbye, Gorda.  Talk to you soon."

How I got through the call without laughing I will never know. Loved the fact that he remembered Gorda whom he never met and the sound of the shuffling papers. I could picture him jumping in the car and heading off to count vindows.  The fun part will be how I let him know he had been played with, yah?

The trip back to Kansas City was the usual drive straight thru as fast as you could get there.  One of the most annoying parts of travelling with Dennis was that there was no reason to stop to eat when I could cook once we got home. Wes and Wally would complain about starving but the answer was usually that we would be home in three hours so there was not reason to stop and eat. 

We arrived home on Saturday, the weekend before Labor Day which meant I had a week until we would be off again for Indianapolis and the NHRA drag racing nationals. But I also had to squeeze Wes's ninth birthday party in. I had managed to get the drywall done and sanded before we left. That was a good thing as I think every child in Lenexa ended up being invited to the party.  With being able to use the basement and the access to the backyard it went pretty well but it would be the last birthday party I would have at home. We do not want to talk about Dennis using a mop to get the drywall dust up off of the concrete floor the morning of the party. I must say it did create a rather interesting white swirl pattern all over the floor, gave me the luxury of spending most of the day on my hands and knees with a bucket of water and a scrub brush and a reason to ban mops from my life forever.


That particular year going to Indy was very exciting.  We left Kansas City very early in the morning.  Dennis had gotten a blow up mattress for the back of the station wagon for the boys if they wanted to sleep since we always seemed to drive all night.  Everyone was settled in the car as we headed down the road but about the time we had gone seventy miles Dennis asked me if I had picked up his wallet. Somehow I guess it had become my responsibility to be the curator of his wallet, glasses and keys. Guess I fell down on my job that time.

Back to Kansas City to get his wallet and off again.  Ever listen to cursing for 140 miles in two hours and twenty-three minutes until we got back to the place where we had turned around? But that was not to be the most exciting part of the trip.  Just across the Indiana state line we needed to stop for gas.  Of course the boys were hungry but it would be a waste of time to eat since we could eat gourmet White Castle burgers when we got to Indy. So the boys got potato chips and Root Beers.  As we were pulling out of the station Dennis slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting a truck. Remember the air mattress in the back of the station wagon where the boys were?  Well, somehow Wes's Root Beer flew out of his hand and travelled across the back seat to splat on the back of Dennis's head.

Sorry....not sorry....but that was funnier than making Barney go count windows. There was no way I could keep from laughing but through Dennis's cursing I do remember hearing how not funny it was.  No it actually was very funny especially since he did not stop to clean up the mess.  Guess it was more important to drive down the highway in a sticky Root Beer smelling mess than to waste another minute.  He even went to White Castle still in the Root Beer stained shirt and sticky hair.  Seems like there was some rule about once you checked into a motel room you could not leave until morning so changing before going to eat  was out of the question.

Leaving the race track in Indy around 7:00 pm meant pretty well an all night drive home. Wes started back to school that morning, Dennis went off to work and Wally and I cleaned out the car and put everything away. Things were about to get a little busier with my part-time job at the health clinic starting, finishing the basement for the upcoming Wine and Cheese Party and several more decorating jobs to go make quesstamations on (it always seemed I had to make a guess at a price quote). I was actually just very happy to be home with little time to think.

Barney called and we planned lunch on Thursday.  Vonder if he vould mention counting vindows? Yah!

DISASTERCATIONS

AAH....it is vacation time.  From childhood experiences of only two memorable vacations during which my parents were not speaking to each other the entire trip I preferred not to think about them much less go on one.

In the twelve years of marriage to the "then husband" the only real vacations were the trips Ford Motor Company sent us on. Even though we went to great places they were still disatercations.  Weekends to drag races were not exactly vacations as we usually left at 3:00 in the morning, went straight to the race track,  then the motel in the wee hours of the morning or drove home all night. 

Around our house vacations were the two week trips to Warner, Oklahoma to my "then in-laws" home.  Now I did like my in-laws, Alpha and Allen, and always had a good time with them.  But two weeks in a town of roughly 1,200 people with no pool, no theater or anything else besides a furniture store, a post office and a not very good hamburger stand can get a little tiresome.  The worse part is that my Dad and brothers lived twenty miles away and Mom about a hundred miles and I was lucky if we got to visit once or twice.  Of course I could never go to Muskogee by myself to see any of the high school friends.

Days were spent fishing, which I have a hard time with due to the poor fish gasping for breath or driving around seeing the sights of northeastern Oklahoma. Alas, Wally had about the same reaction to fishing as I did.  At four years of age it dawned on him that the pretty fish now swimming in the kitchen sink ready to be slaughtered were going to be dinner.  He went to the living room and refused to come into the kitchen until after dinner.  There were lots of card games and the construction of a jigsaw puzzle or two.  The boys ran wild all day as there was nothing they could get into or anyplace they could get lost.
Perhaps the one good thing was that I didn't have to cook much since I am terrible at frying food or making poke salad or knew how to make
biscuits and gravy or pinto beans.  My mother taught me "yankee cooking" so I was pretty useless in Alpha's kitchen except to do dishes.

Both Alpha and Allen had huge extended families that dropped by everyday. Things were always more fun if Dennis' sister and her husband Jim arrived during our visit.  Jim was a lot of fun and when he was there it seemed like there was a great deal more laughter.  I had gotten good at making the best of anything and the trips to Warner were good practice.

Before we left for Warner Barney had arrived home.  He had been gone for almost three weeks and I realized how much I missed seeing him. I guess that I had thought it would be a nice break from how complicated the whole situation was. Actually it was quite the opposite and it was noticeable that the longer he was gone the more often he called.  Plus the usual conversations about what he had seen in Philadelphia or Chicago or how the seminars and book signings were going changed to more how he felt about things.

I was a little terrified that I had opened up a can of worms I wouldn't be able to close when I brought up the subject of being able to tell by his eyes there was a lot of things he was not saying.  It actually had made it easier for him to talk to me about his feelings than he had been before.  Maybe it was easier for him on the phone as our conversations became longer and much more frequent. It was an interesting change for the better.

The day I went over to install the rest of the blinds and drapes he answered the door in a huge pair of sunglasses....the ones that are about a foot wide. It was obvious that they were to keep me from watching his eyes and we both doubled over in laughter.  I realized that Mr Always Perfect Eagle Scout was learning how to play.  Playing as an adult is an important part of life and very good at chasing your troubles away.

Moving to Kansas City with all my crazy neighbors and a great influence from my college room mate, Cathie, I spent a great deal of time playing. I had to act like the perfect corporate wife but I discovered how much fun it was to go to the grocery store in the middle of the summer with my neighbor dressed as a clown and me as Raggedy Ann or pop out of the neighbors bushes when her husband came home dressed as a huge rabbit. In really bad times you just have to think back about the reaction on someone's face when a giant rabbit pops up out of the bushes and most of the seriousness of life slips away.

When Barney had actually thought of buying the sunglasses and surprising me with then I realized that he perhaps was beginning to let loose and have the fun he had never had growing up. As much as I loved him and as awesome as he was I always had the feeling there was something missing. The sunglasses and our conversation about his family life growing up made me realize he never learned to play or to just be silly.  

I really didn't know how I was going to survive two weeks in Warner, Oklahoma without seeing or talking to him.  Much to my surprise I actually did very well.  In the bad moments, the anger over not getting to spend more time with my family or high school friends I would think of Barney in those glasses. Also contemplated on more silly things to do to him and see what he comes up with.  

Little did he know that his course in Silliness 101 was about to begin.
Staying at the house with non-fisherman Wally on the last fishing expedition of the endless two week vacation gave me a chance to teach Barney the first class in Silliness 101.

Where Is The Stage?

Back in the ancient times, the era my children always thought I was born in, when someone asked "Where's the stage?" it meant the stagecoach coming into town. I must have watched too many old westerns but never heard the word coach following the word stage. As far back as I can remember I always wanted to know where the stage was or what I could turn into a stage.

Perhaps The Little Rascals were a bad influence with all those little productions they would put together.  I must have been about eight and my little brother, Kenny, six years old.  We would make up little acts, put a few benches and chairs on the driveway in front of the garage door and put on a show for the neighborhood children.  What we actually did has long since faded from memory but kids always showed up to watch.

Because I was such a tomboy Mother put me in tap and ballet so perhaps I could walk more like a lady. Then there were the classical piano lessons and recitals with frilly dresses. In grade school I never passed up a class play even though I got to play exciting parts like being a hollyhock in the second grade. My doll got a better part than I did as it was baby Jesus every year in the Christmas play.

Junior high brought the talent shows into my life.  I can remember embarrassing my older brother one year by doing Al Jolson in black face and another year wearing a sailor suit and doing Honey Bun from "South Pacific."  I think that was about the time he started telling everyone I was not his sister. But in junior high I also got involved in speech, drama and debate so there were endless opportunities to perform. Then I can't forget taking roller skating lessons at Muskogee's Stardust Skating Arena and getting involved in two roller skating shows.

In high school there were as many classes in speech, drama and debate as there were in math and science.  There were endless opportunities for speech tournaments and plays all four years capping off with Muskogee Central High's first musical, "Bye, Bye, Birdie".  This was also the years of folk music and hootenannies so naturally I grabbed up a guitar and joined in the weekly hootenannies in the park.  

Do I sound a little stage struck?  It was so bad that by the time Mother decided I should go to a nice normal girl's school and turn into a nice normal lady that the only reason I really went was because Stephens College was very heavy into theater and dance.  Two days of classes in theater with girls from New York in their flowing capes and tights terrified me and constituted a quick major change to television, radio and film production. Time to put the thought of starring on Broadway  away and move on.

When I married the "then husband" I did a pretty good job of staying away from any stage and even gave up roller skating until two little boys came along.  All children should learn to skate - right?  All children should have the chance to perform in plays and talent shows even if their school does not offer them - right?  All during the boys' years in school I sort of became a director of talent shows and summertime plays. How could the "then husband" argue with affording the boys the same opportunities I had growing up?

Without realizing it things got much worse through the years, all of which I will write about in my blog "How Lucky I Am To Be Born A Baby Boomer"/ "Things I Should Have Known".  There was learning to ice skate at 40 and then skating in an ice show and on a precision team for five years, "The Irving Opry", "The Irving City Limits", "Have Music, Will Travel", "The Wynnewood Follies" and numerous street fairs and festivals. Finally I found the Ardmore Little Theater two years ago.

Truthfully my first audition at the theater two years ago made me feel like those theater classes at Stephens but this time I didn't run away. My blogs have been sketchy for the last six weeks as I have not had the mental capacity to reminiscence about what happened in 1979 while trying to learn a lot of songs and how to play the spoons especially when I didn't even know people played the spoons. The next audition will be better and even though there are not a lot of parts for a member of the "72 Young Club" I am having more fun than anyone should have. 

Thank you Marshell, my "now husband", for fixing his own dinner for six weeks, being totally supportive even though I will have put 1,640 miles on the Tesla before the play is over and listening to the noise of drums, spoons or tap shoes.  I have a feeling I can drive anyone crazy but he is a prince and just hangs in there.

Back to the real world next week if I ever really knew what that was.  I am sure there is some cliffhanger I left dangling in the last story.

Just Normal Everyday Stuff

By the time the 4th of July rolled around in the summer of 1979 I was wondering how it had flown by so fast.  There had not been as many leisurely days by the pool as I had expected but I really didn't really have any complaints.  

Alpha went home right after the 4th of July after having been with us for almost four weeks. Sounds like a long time for a house guest, especially your mother-in-law, but Alpha was lots of fun and a tremendous help. While she was there Dennis and I got the rest of the drywall up in the basement without too many curse words, there were several Kansas City Royal baseball games she enjoyed, trips to a winery and tours of all the interesting points in both Kansas and Missouri. Perhaps she needed to go home to Warner to have some quiet time as there was certainly none around our house.

In July the New Neighbors had a Summer Social which included the husbands.  Most of their activities centered around the ladies but about once a month or so there was a couples affair.  This particular one was a bring a dish to share and the club provided the drinks.  Dennis did not sound very enthused about going which I sort of ignored and made the best summer salad I could come up with.  (These affairs always forced you into a situation of making something spectacular.)

When it was time to get dressed to go Dennis proceeded to try on all his casual clothing.  He had suits for work and sloppy garage clothes but it seems like it had been awhile since we had gone anywhere that required nice casual. There was an abundant amount of cursing as the clothes were tried on and then pitched on the floor. Nothing fit.  I had made him fat and he was not going to any stupid party.

My first reaction was to cry, a very adult thing to do.  This was not the first "fat fit" as I always referred to them in my mind.  They actually occurred almost every time there was a Ford Motor Company affair but those were sort of command performance affairs where he had to show up. They also occurred most of the time when I suggested we go to something as simple as going to the movies.  Long before we moved to Kansas City I simply stopped suggesting we go and do anything just to make life a little smoother.

After the initial tears slowed down I just got mad.  This New Neighbors event was sort of an event I needed to show up at since I was a member of the Board and these people were my friends.  All those company affairs and evenings going out with people he worked with that I did not particularly like or have anything in common with flashed through my mind.  Somehow the words "Well, you can stay home, but I am going" popped out of my mouth.  That prompted a bit of a rage but I stood my ground for once and he did finally find something to wear.

The evening was not really very pleasant as I put on my happy face.  He was not speaking to me which made it easier to get through the evening and he made no effort to be the least bit sociable. It was, after all, my fault when he gained weight.  I guess I was going to have to stop force feeding him every night after I tied him to a chair in front of the television. Wonder what his reaction will be when I get the courage to tell him that the club's bi-annual Wine and Cheese Party will be at our house in October?

With the drywall finally in place in the basement and the thought of the Wine and Cheese event coming in October there was still a lot of work to be done.  Having a hundred plus people at the party was going to require more space.  The next step was something called
"tape and bed" to hide all of the drywall seams. I had seen the finished product from wallpapering in new construction but had no idea how to do it.  So I went and watched some guys working on a new house.  It looked pretty simple and certainly I could do that.

Armed with a wide blade, a bucket of drywall mud and a roll of paper tape you just put a swipe of mud on the seam, stick up the tape on the mud and put another swipe of mud on top and smooth out the edges. Oh, My God!  Starting on the ceiling I quickly learned when gobs of mud fell on my head, the tape bubbled up when it got wet and there was NO smoothing of the edges that this was actually some art form and the guys I had watched must have been masters at it.

After a few attempts at the ceiling and trying to remember that I had not seen the real drywall guys cry I decided to perfect my skills on the walls.  At least the mud would fall on my shoes and not in my eyes and my hair. Also two of the walls were only half walls since it was a walkout basement with lots of windows.  Perfecting my skills did not seem to ever happen.  I got better at it but smooth seams never happened without much sanding. I would much rather insert toothpicks under my fingernails than to sand but one does what one has to do.  

By the end of the summer the tape, bed and sanding job was done to near perfection. I did realize in all the ordeal why the blown on ceilings and textured walls were so popular.  Perhaps not all drywall guys were masters of their craft.  The rest of the house usually required a daily cleaning from hoards of children running up and down the stairs tracking drywall dust everywhere.  Actually the goal was to have it done by the time Wes's ninth birthday rolled around so he and his twenty-five little friends could have the party in the basement and the backyard. I was not very good at birthday parties and after that one I got more creative about different locations for the annual event.

Barney had called the Monday after our interesting talk about all the things we had avoided talking about through the years.  He apologized but I told him he wasn't the only one that did not say what really needed to be said.  He was going to be out of town for several weeks promoting his book and doing seminars.  I had all the stuff for his house done and could have delivered it while he was gone but he said for me to wait until he got back. There are times when I wished I had not started the conversation but the time apart might have been a good thing.  Maybe..........

Oh, and the annual two week vacation to Warner, Oklahoma is coming closer.

1979.....I'm Still Standing

Sometimes it is hard to look back at a particular time frame and remember just what was going on in our lives and the world around us.  In 1979 I think I thought of myself as just a healthy, normal, All-American girl or woman if being thirty-three qualified me for that. I was thinking that I had died and gone to heaven living in Kansas City and actually it was a pretty interesting year.

The average cost of a new house was $58,100.00 and the cost of gas was 86 cents.  A new mercury Cougar cost $6,430.00 and a new Mustang was $4,494.00.  ESPN started broadcasting for the first time competing with ABC Wide World of Sports.

Best album of the year was "Saturday Night Fever" although Pink Floyd's "The Wall" sold 150 copies in the UK in 2 hours.  Other hit makers were Donna Summer, Billy Joel, The Village People, Michael Jackson The Bee Gees, Prince and Rod Stewart.  Movies that came out were "Superman, The Movie", "Kramer vs. Kramer", "the Muppet Movie", "Alien" and "Star Trek".  

It actually snowed in the Sahara Desert, Ted Combs roller skated 5,193 miles from LA to NYC, the Walkman debuted with a price of $200.00, the first snowboard was invented and the game Trivial Pursuit appeared. The popular toys were Hot Wheels, Nerf Balls. Barbie dolls and Atari. Television gave us 60 minutes, MASH, Mork & Mindy, SNL, Happy Days and 43 million people watched Elvis on ABC.

In the thirteen years that Dennis and I had been married by 1979 we had moved eight different times through three different states and five different towns.  Three of the moves were due to job changes while the rest came from someone being unhappy with what ever house we were living in.  The amazing fact in all the moves was that we actually lived in one house for eight of those years.  It wasn't all bad as I think it gave me good skills to become a home mover expert and helped me develop decorating abilities to some make of those places even habitable.

My attitude about cars has always been if it started when you turned the key, could make it's way down the road and back then it was fine. It did not have to be shiny or new.  In the thirteen years married to Dennis we had actually had nineteen vehicles and three dragsters.  In the early years before Ford Motor Company there were some really cool ones I wished I still had like the '61 and '41 Chevys or the '37 Ford and the '52 Ford pickup. We did still have the '50 Mercury that we bought for me to drive in 1967. But then there were the endless array of Ford lease vehicles that changed every September. I can't complain about the lease cars from Ford as most of them cost under a hundred dollars a month with all insurance and maintenance paid.  They were all top of the line vehicles fully loaded with all the bling so they could be sold as "executive company cars".  The only thing we had to do was to put gas in them.  The only hard part was to remember what I was driving when I went to find the car in a parking lot. Dennis of course had a company car but I did not count those in the nineteen and I could add eight more onto the total count.

The revolving garage door was confusing but then again growing up with two hot rod brothers, living and helping through engine swaps, weekly clutch repairs on one vehicle and Dennis travelling five days a week for many years gave me more auto mechanic knowledge than a lot of guys had. Then there was an occasion when I tore the race car engine down one night when Dennis was gone to see what damage the big kabooie caused one Saturday at the races.  I am even proud of my first place trophy for being the fastest at changing spark plugs. It was all really fun and I am glad I got so much car knowledge in my little brain.

As far as the brain goes it took me four colleges, four different majors and twelve years to finally graduate. There was always a problem in what other people wanted me to grow up to be and what I wanted.  I also discovered that I enjoyed being a stay-at-home Mom although at times the thought of a little extra money popped into my brain and I would go get a "real" job, one where you had to stay in one place for "X" number of hours.  That never worked out well as it was more fun to stay home, play with the kids and put on a stack of record albums while I danced my way through house-cleaning.

There were a lot of world events going on in 1979 but I did not pay much attention to them.  It was the era of the Women's Liberation Movement that I never really understood.  Even though I was in a less than happy marriage and medical school was difficult for women to be accepted I felt like I could not have been more liberated.  I had a great volunteer job, wrote a bi-weekly column for the local paper, did a monthly twelve page newsletter for the New Neighbors, had a beautiful house, nice cars even if I didn't care about them, great friends and neighbors.  

Just another one of those years when it felt great to have been born as a Baby Boomer.  There was great music, pretty cool cars, respect for others and a general attitude that there was an element of fun in everything that needed to be done.

Oh, The Eyes

With the thirty-third birthday over with I really didn't feel any older just didn't like the sound of thirty-three.  Maybe I would tell anyone who asked that I was thirty-four as it sounded better.  Or I could tell everyone I was forty-four and make they think how great I looked for my age.  

I really did not have to think very hard about who sent the roses for my birthday.  Lucky for me that no one questioned where they came from.  I would have to come up with something really good for his birthday the next month. When I met Barney for lunch the next day I thanked him for the roses. He flashed a silly smile and asked how I knew it was him to which I told him he was the only one who ever sent me roses then just gave him a smile back as we headed off for another picnic.

Back when we were together in college, in my not very astute days, I noticed something very interesting about Barney.  He had the most amazing eyes.  If I ignored facial expressions, a laugh or a happy or sad story I could tell how he felt just by looking at his eyes. There were times when I knew to end a story I was rattling on with if a look of sadness appeared or times when I knew not to pursue a question.  It was Shakespeare that said " The Eyes are the window to your soul". Everyone's eyes do it to some extent but Barney much more than most.

There were a lot of times in college when I would talk about my family and he had been through a lot of those trials and tribulations with me that I caught the look of sadness in his eyes.  Immature me assumed that he was feeling bad for me. But if I asked questions about his family there were brief answers and overwhelming sadness in his eyes so I dropped the subject.  All I really knew was that his father had passed away when he was an infant and he had no brothers or sisters.

That day sitting under a tree at the Liberty Memorial that overlooks the city I paid extra attention to his eyes.  When I told the story about how I had told the women at the New Neighbors Coffee that morning that I thought I had died and gone to heaven  moving to Kansas City I could see laughter.  When I started on funny stories about the boys even though he smiled there was an look of sadness.  Maybe it was way past time when I should ask a few questions.

So, I told him that I knew very little about him growing up except that his father had passed away when he was little, he was an Eagle scout, Mr.4.0 student and played football since I had his high school letter.  I had also noticed that in college he never went home on weekends or holidays....why? Also why do you get this sad look in your eyes when I talk about Wes and Wally?  He sat there for quite awhile being very quiet but I wasn't going to give up and change the subject.

Finally he drew a deep breathe and told me that everything was fine until he was eleven.  It had been just he and his Mom but she remarried and his step-father had a boy and a girl about his same age.  The blended family did not turn out to be much like the Brady Bunch.  His stepfather had a boy and a girl close to his age that he got along fairly well with but the stepfather thought a boy should be more interested in football than Boy Scouts. He tried but things just never seemed to please his stepfather. He just withdrew into scouts and school, spent summer at scout camps and then summers at college. Why was I asking?

I told him I was asking because he never talked about his family and I had always wondered.  When I had asked him how his Mom was several months ago he had gotten this look in his eyes that I had seen many times before, said "Fine" and I knew to drop the subject. Had he ever stopped to think that maybe his family situation growing up made him into the magnificent person he had grown to be? There are probably not really any Brady Bunch families or even any Leave it to Beavers in the world.  Every family has their own set of problems and raising children is not easy. You just have to do the best you can.

He asked me if he was so magnificent when he asked me to marry so years ago why I said no. I told him he was still working on the magnificent part since he was only half-way there.  There was Sarah, Northwestern and all the things you wanted to do and I, lacking in any self-confidence, was sacred that I would ruin your life.  So I just let you go get magnificent on your own. Besides you first wanted to pay my way to Stephen, then why didn't I just come live with you and marrying you was the last offer. Not the correct order, sir.

It was quite amazing watching his eyes as I went from funny things to things that he felt bad about.  Barney finally caught me really watching his eyes and said he didn't believe it was really true that I could tell. It is true that you can tell what someone is feeling by their eyes. 

When I was a teenager I started noticing my mother's eyes and could tell if I was in trouble or not before she ever spoke.  Then in college in one of the pre-med classes the professor went into great detail about it.
Your pupils actually dilate in response to light, mental effort, happiness and sexual arousal. They will constrict with fear, lies and anger.  You can't change how our pupils react to a certain situation and unlike our mouths, they can never lie. I have found that I have to know the person fairly well to read them and some people it is really hard to tell.  I can always tell when Wes is telling me a whopper but I could tell by your eyes what you were feeling long before I knew the science behind it. So, what is the deal with the constriction of your pupils when I talk about the boys or ask about your family growing up?

His answer was fear.  He married Lauren because she was adamant about not wanting children. Then due to his not having a father around, then one he didn't do well with he didn't think he could be a good father.  Your stories about the boys always sound so happy and so much fun even when their behavior was not what you might have wanted. I think with you I would have wanted lots of kids.

There were a lot of times Barney could really cause me not to know what to say next. The only thing I could tell him was that your only example of parenting that you start with are your own parents. The best I could do was to keep the good parts of mine and change the bad ones. Hopefully your spouse looks at things the same way but that doesn't always happen. It isn't easy raising children but I can not imagine not having them.

All he could say was how much he loved me to which I replied that I loved him.  Also that if I didn't get going I was going to have a mother-in-law with tiny dots for pupils.


What a day. My mother always said that people needed to forget bad things about their childhood days and move on.  At thirty-three I am beginning to realize that regardless of how hard we try that little child is still inside of us all.

Roses and Daisies

There were a lot of times that summer when I wished that I did not get myself entangled in so many activities.  Most of my neighbors and friends were stay-at-home Moms who spent their days baking cookies and laying by the pool.  Even though there were days when I wished I could do that I knew it wasn't me.  It is funny as this was the era of the beginning of the Women's Lib movement and that wasn't my thing either.

Having Dennis's Mom, Alpha, visiting for the first several weeks of the summer was a lifesaver.  She was the picture of a real grandmother unlike my Mother.  The boys adored her and she baked lots of cookies, could take care of any situation and was happy being with the boys. She also took the edge off of Dennis's curse filled temper while she was there which made life a little more pleasant.

Wes, our almost nine year old, was at times like living with a whirlwind.
 I take that back as it was always like living in constant commotion.  Maybe all the years of drag racing made him think that everything had to be a top speed.  His bicycle was equipped with a wing and a parachute, thanks to his Dad and homework was always poorly done in the blink of an eye. Once he learned to read a menu he always wanted to order the most expensive thing on the menu which only got worse as he he got older.  Most days seemed to bring a new dramatic situation. My Uncle Tom said one time that I would miss his calling if I did not put him on the stage.

There were some good points in that skinny body as he never met a stranger and had lots of friends all of whom he invited over to his house, he was very talented even at eight years old at designing and drawing race cars and very good at getting injured or sick at all the wrong times. The great thing I can say about him at this age was that he was very good at giving us memorable moments.  One of the best in Kansas City was the time we took Alpha and visited the Truman Library in Independence, Kansas.  We had ignored singing in the visitor book but not Wes. He dashed over and signed, "Wes Tarkington and family" in ink before we could stop him. 

I have written a lot about Wally who was four years younger than Wes. He was the total opposite in personality from his brother which was a good thing as I may not have lived through two that were alike. Wally was rather quiet, one of those children who did not talk much when he was little and then came out with full sentences. The difference in their age made for some problems as Wally wanted hang out with Wes's friends but his brother didn't.  The great thing about the neighborhood in Kansas was that it was filled with all ages of boys and Wally got to tag along part of the time. For all the constant commotion at home both of them were perfect little gentlemen when you took them out in public.  I adored both of them and really would not have changed either one. They got to be more fun with each passing year.

When I had gone back to college at the time that Wes was five and Wally was one I discovered that the only time I had to study was when everyone was asleep. It was usually to bed rather early and then I got up at whatever time I needed to in order to study for a test. Many times I got up at midnight and studied until everyone got up at six or seven. That became a habit which came in very handy for writing newsletters, letters to friends or projects I needed to do. That way I had the day to spend with the boys and in the middle of the night no one needed anything.

When I got into making draperies the only place I had had to lay them out was the family room floor.  So I would get up at some weird hour, put a stack of albums on the stereo and crawl around the floor for the rest of the night.  Not the most idea working condition but it was the best I could come up with until we finished the basement. When everyone got up I would fold them up and go be a Mom for the day.  Most decorators farm all the draperies out to a workroom but not me.  I always had to do things the hard way but it paid off in the long run as I could control when they got done, how they were made plus being half the price of any of the other designers.  Perhaps a bit on the glutton for punishment side.

Barney called early on Monday morning to say "Wow" on how the wallpaper and paint looked that I had finished while he was out of town. Nice to have a happy customer and I told him his mini blinds were in.  He wasn't concerned about them but wanted to meet me for lunch on Thursday.  We had not met for lunch for several weeks and he said lunch at his house while I was working there did not count. It was a pretty busy week as I was taking Alpha and the boys on the New Neighbors tour of the General Motors Assembly plant on Wednesday, had to get the newsletter done by Friday, my column for the Lenexa News done by Wednesday and there was a New Neighbors Board Meeting on Thursday morning. We finally decided I could meet him after the board meeting but I really could not stay long.

There was a bit of irony in going to the GM plant tour.  First it was a bit of deja vu as the Whittier School trip when I was in the second grade had gone there plus Dennis worked for Ford.  He could not imagine why I would go to a GM plant - duh.  But the plant was really awesome.  It was the location of the North American Bomber Production Plant where they manufactured the B-25 Mitchell during World War II. It covers 572 acres with 3,200,00 sq ft. and the tour was fascinating.  Alpha had never seen imagined anything so huge and the boys loved seeing the cars go through the assembly line, especially my car crazy little Wes.
It was a very fun way to spend my birthday.

When we got home there was a beautiful birthday cake sitting on the dining room table, a vase of yellow daisies and a vase of a dozen red roses. Karen and her son had gone on the tour with us and never said anything about my birthday.  As we walked in the door of my house she started laughing and said "Surprise". Karen was surprised at the roses but Carolyn from next door popped in to say they had been delivered that afternoon.  All the card said was "Happy Birthday".  Within a few minutes more neighbors came over and we devoured the cake. It was a great birthday...but


Where did the roses come from?  Either Cathie or Pam, my college friends?  That would be odd as usually a card or a call was all we did if that. Not Mother or Dad as I had already heard from them.  Maybe it was one of my brothers.