When the kids were little, they loved the snow. If it snowed during the week, and school closure was a possibility, they REALLY loved the snow. On a snow day, there were no cries of stomach aches, and lack of air, etc. Snow days were all about bundling up and heading out into the cold white stuff. Grandma and Grandpa Walker were the best neighbors to have during a snow day. Well, actually any day, but especially a snow day. I think they loved playing in the snow as much as the kids did.
Happy memories of Jeff and Wilma playing in the snow with the kids. Who could lob a snow ball farther than Jeff? Large snow shovels made for great sleds. Snowmen were made, snow balls were thrown, and a good time was had by all. It was always the challenge of the day to see who could hit Jeffie Boy with a snow ball.
Today, some 10 years later, Julie tells me that snow just isn't as much fun any more. Why would she say that? Because as we watch the snow come down in a sheet of white, and we check the DOT camera's, worry becomes an issue. Will Dom be able to get home through the canyon? Will he be safe? Will he be careful? Will the car do okay, or will it slip and slide? "I just want him to be home." Many a evening I had the same worries about Paul. I still do. I just want him to be home, and safe. Snow is still fun, but only when all our loved ones are home, safe, and warm and snug. It's snowing again. Dom is home, and now we wait for Paul to make it home. I wish he would have taken the van today.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
The Gift of Listening
I've never really thought about listening as a gift, but it is. When you take the time to listen to someone, it's a gift to them, but also to you. I experienced this today when I happened to meet up with Josie Jaramillo at the store. Josie and her family lost their son, Larry, in a tragic accident a couple of years ago. Larry was a special person in many ways. He touched the lives of all who knew him, and he had a great love for others.
Josie, as well all of her family, miss Larry every day. It was nice to visit with Josie, and let her share her memories of Larry with me. I left the store, and our conversation, feeling like she had given me a gift. She shared her heart felt feelings of love, of sorrow, of loneliness with me, and I gave her the gift of my time.
It was good for me to be reminded of Larry, and the many times I talked with him at the service station. He never failed to ask how I was, how my kids were, and to share a little thought with me. He had a smile for us all. I'm glad that I had the chance to share a little time with Josie today, and I'm glad for the reminder that the time we spend listening to another, is a gift that we all can give and share.
Take a minute to listen to someone, and see what a gift you get in return.
Cretia
Josie, as well all of her family, miss Larry every day. It was nice to visit with Josie, and let her share her memories of Larry with me. I left the store, and our conversation, feeling like she had given me a gift. She shared her heart felt feelings of love, of sorrow, of loneliness with me, and I gave her the gift of my time.
It was good for me to be reminded of Larry, and the many times I talked with him at the service station. He never failed to ask how I was, how my kids were, and to share a little thought with me. He had a smile for us all. I'm glad that I had the chance to share a little time with Josie today, and I'm glad for the reminder that the time we spend listening to another, is a gift that we all can give and share.
Take a minute to listen to someone, and see what a gift you get in return.
Cretia
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
The Stolen is Found
A week ago on Tuesday, Sarah's car was stolen from the parking lot at Black Angus restaurant where she works. We hoped it would be found, and found in one piece. Today the car was located at a Salvage yard in the south valley. The back window was broken out of it, and the people at the salvage yard had drained the oil, etc., and removed the detailing, and the battery. Three cars were stolen the same night, and all three cars were sold to the same salvage yard. The owners of the salvage yard are putting the battery back in the car, hopefully the same one they took out of it, replacing the oil, antifreeze, etc., and towing the car to Sarah's house.
We have learned our lesson, and now have comprehensive coverage on the car, even though it's a '92 Saturn. We now know that it is a favorite for stealing, along with Honda's. The car is back, it would be nice if the window wasn't broken out of it, but replacing a window is less expensive than buying another car.
Tomorrow is another day, another set of circumstances, and lessons to learn. Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's on with life we go.
We have learned our lesson, and now have comprehensive coverage on the car, even though it's a '92 Saturn. We now know that it is a favorite for stealing, along with Honda's. The car is back, it would be nice if the window wasn't broken out of it, but replacing a window is less expensive than buying another car.
Tomorrow is another day, another set of circumstances, and lessons to learn. Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's on with life we go.
Quiet: The Meaning of
I love quiet, but Paul seems to think being quiet is so unnecessary. Webster defines quiet as: making no noise or sound, esp. no disturbing sound. I think I need to leave post it notes with that definition all over the house for Paul's benefit.
I usually go to bed before Paul, and I'm just enjoying a sound sleep when he blams his way into the bedroom. It's possible to quietly open and a close a door. I know it is! I quietly open and close our bedroom door every Saturday morning when Paul wants to sleep late. I do this for two reasons. One being, it's the polite thing to do. He works hard all week, goes in very early some mornings, and letting him enjoy a late sleep in is polite. The second reason that I quietly open and close our bedroom door is, if I wake him up, he will then get up and make NOISE.
It's interesting to me the amount of noise one person can make in the process of getting ready for bed. After he blams his way into the bedroom, he then blams his way into the bathroom. That means another series of slamming the door. Going in the bathroom he slams the door hard enough to shake the house on it's foundation, and coming out, it's another house shaking episode. If his goal was to wake me up, he accomplished that with the opening and slamming of the bedroom door.
He must still be unsure if I'm awake, so his next scheme comes into play. He lifts the covers up to the ceiling to let all the cold air in with me. I'm usually cold, and most likely have finally warmed up a spot in the bed so I can be warm and comfy. Well, not anymore. Now that all the cold air is floating around me, he then swings into bed from the ceiling fan, and the landing is not swan dive quality. It's more of a belly buster to be sure. Once he has landed, he then tucks and rolls with the covers. None of this is done with stealth, you can be sure. Plenty of noise to accompany all of the actions.
I don't understand why his chronic congestion is never chronic until he gets in bed. Once he has blammed his way into the bedroom, the bathroom, and done his dive into bed, he begins to cough and try to clear his throat. He doesn't follow through with the clearing of his throat either. It's like he forgets how to follow through with the noise. So it's a half clearing noise, and I'm waiting for the other half of the noise. He will do this several times.
Finally after much tossing and turning, he will find a comfortable position and PROMPTLY fall asleep. Now I'm trying to gain back my half of the covers, get warm again, and try to recover from the interrupted sleep. Guess what happens next? He starts SNORING. To top all of this off, he will, without fail, in the mornings tell me that he is so tired. Well I guess so! All that effort to get to bed and to sleep is tiring!
Cretia
I usually go to bed before Paul, and I'm just enjoying a sound sleep when he blams his way into the bedroom. It's possible to quietly open and a close a door. I know it is! I quietly open and close our bedroom door every Saturday morning when Paul wants to sleep late. I do this for two reasons. One being, it's the polite thing to do. He works hard all week, goes in very early some mornings, and letting him enjoy a late sleep in is polite. The second reason that I quietly open and close our bedroom door is, if I wake him up, he will then get up and make NOISE.
It's interesting to me the amount of noise one person can make in the process of getting ready for bed. After he blams his way into the bedroom, he then blams his way into the bathroom. That means another series of slamming the door. Going in the bathroom he slams the door hard enough to shake the house on it's foundation, and coming out, it's another house shaking episode. If his goal was to wake me up, he accomplished that with the opening and slamming of the bedroom door.
He must still be unsure if I'm awake, so his next scheme comes into play. He lifts the covers up to the ceiling to let all the cold air in with me. I'm usually cold, and most likely have finally warmed up a spot in the bed so I can be warm and comfy. Well, not anymore. Now that all the cold air is floating around me, he then swings into bed from the ceiling fan, and the landing is not swan dive quality. It's more of a belly buster to be sure. Once he has landed, he then tucks and rolls with the covers. None of this is done with stealth, you can be sure. Plenty of noise to accompany all of the actions.
I don't understand why his chronic congestion is never chronic until he gets in bed. Once he has blammed his way into the bedroom, the bathroom, and done his dive into bed, he begins to cough and try to clear his throat. He doesn't follow through with the clearing of his throat either. It's like he forgets how to follow through with the noise. So it's a half clearing noise, and I'm waiting for the other half of the noise. He will do this several times.
Finally after much tossing and turning, he will find a comfortable position and PROMPTLY fall asleep. Now I'm trying to gain back my half of the covers, get warm again, and try to recover from the interrupted sleep. Guess what happens next? He starts SNORING. To top all of this off, he will, without fail, in the mornings tell me that he is so tired. Well I guess so! All that effort to get to bed and to sleep is tiring!
Cretia
Monday, December 27, 2010
A Centipede, A Screaming Teenager and A Hero April 2010
It is twelve thirty four on Monday morning when Paul's cell phone begins to ring. You just can't help it, your heart rate kicks into high gear when the phone rings at that time of night. Paul has a ring tone for each one of the kids, but I don't which one is for which kid. When the phone rang he knew who was calling, so instead of saying hello, he answers it with ..."JULIA" I hear her yelling, from her room, as well as from the phone. "DAD THERE IS A CENTIPEDE!"
I made an instantaneous decision to remain snug as a bug, (no pun intended) in bed and skip this episode. Seen one centipede, seen them all, and I had just killed one last week. In other words, I had met my centipede quota for a lifetime. Creepy things!
Paul throws back the covers. Julie's knight in shining armor, or in this case, shining tighty whities. He's off to the hallway where the multi legged creature was last seen creeping. Julie thinks it's under the rug. He lifts up the rug, but no centipede. He makes an educated guess that it has disappeared. Paul and Julie fear that the creature has ventured into Jacobs room, and if that is the case, we may never find it again. I am listening to this conversation while still in bed. I'm thinking, if that thing goes into Jacob's room, I will never set foot in there again. His room is scary enough without the creature from the black lagoon creeping about in there.
Paul comes back into our room, and we hear Julia yelling, "There it is! Dad it's under the couch!" Now Paul feels like he needs more armor, so he puts on his sandals. I think his boots would have been better story material, but sandals is what he wore. Now he is ready to do battle with the centipede. He is dressed to kill in his shining tighty whities and his manly sandals. Centipede beware, a hero has arrived.
As he was leaving the bedroom to do battle, I said, "Get the broom and the thingy, and sweep the centipede up into the thingy." He said, 'Cretia! I don't know what the thingy is." Well, I know what it is, I just can't think of the word. Oh yeah, the dust pan. He didn't take my advice, and frankly, lying in bed was becoming boring when the entertainment world was happening in my living room, in full and living color. I got up, put on my flip flops and headed to the battlefield.
Julie was safely perched on the dining room table, a quivering mass of nerves. I would be too if a creepy crawly centipede had crawled over my bare foot. Paul was turning over all the furniture and preparing to leap from danger at any moment. I had the broom and was beating the bottom of the couch, hoping the centipede didn't come stampeding out at me with all it's dirty little feet. Sometime during the fierce battle of fighting the centipede that had disappeared, Paul realized that the blinds were open, the light was on, and all the world had a clear view of the crazy people in our living room. In full battle gear, (undies and manly sandals) he leapt across the living room and pulled the blinds closed. Ah, safe from view, but not from the creepy crawlies. Too bad he didn't have a cape on. My hero!
We turned over, and rearranged all the furniture in the living room, but no centipede was spotted. It's a little difficult to go back to sleep once you've seen one of those things in your house. Every little whisper of movement against your skin, and you are beating yourself half to death for fear it has managed to crawl on you. Now we are contemplating taking all the furniture to Goodwill, and just sitting on folding chairs. I can't make myself sit on any of the living room furniture for fear of sharing it with the centipede that disappeared. Why am I afraid? I'm married to the knight in shining tighty whities and manly sandals. EGADS!
PS, Julie took a picture with her cellphone, but I better not post it. lol Paul still fails to see the humor in this story.
I made an instantaneous decision to remain snug as a bug, (no pun intended) in bed and skip this episode. Seen one centipede, seen them all, and I had just killed one last week. In other words, I had met my centipede quota for a lifetime. Creepy things!
Paul throws back the covers. Julie's knight in shining armor, or in this case, shining tighty whities. He's off to the hallway where the multi legged creature was last seen creeping. Julie thinks it's under the rug. He lifts up the rug, but no centipede. He makes an educated guess that it has disappeared. Paul and Julie fear that the creature has ventured into Jacobs room, and if that is the case, we may never find it again. I am listening to this conversation while still in bed. I'm thinking, if that thing goes into Jacob's room, I will never set foot in there again. His room is scary enough without the creature from the black lagoon creeping about in there.
Paul comes back into our room, and we hear Julia yelling, "There it is! Dad it's under the couch!" Now Paul feels like he needs more armor, so he puts on his sandals. I think his boots would have been better story material, but sandals is what he wore. Now he is ready to do battle with the centipede. He is dressed to kill in his shining tighty whities and his manly sandals. Centipede beware, a hero has arrived.
As he was leaving the bedroom to do battle, I said, "Get the broom and the thingy, and sweep the centipede up into the thingy." He said, 'Cretia! I don't know what the thingy is." Well, I know what it is, I just can't think of the word. Oh yeah, the dust pan. He didn't take my advice, and frankly, lying in bed was becoming boring when the entertainment world was happening in my living room, in full and living color. I got up, put on my flip flops and headed to the battlefield.
Julie was safely perched on the dining room table, a quivering mass of nerves. I would be too if a creepy crawly centipede had crawled over my bare foot. Paul was turning over all the furniture and preparing to leap from danger at any moment. I had the broom and was beating the bottom of the couch, hoping the centipede didn't come stampeding out at me with all it's dirty little feet. Sometime during the fierce battle of fighting the centipede that had disappeared, Paul realized that the blinds were open, the light was on, and all the world had a clear view of the crazy people in our living room. In full battle gear, (undies and manly sandals) he leapt across the living room and pulled the blinds closed. Ah, safe from view, but not from the creepy crawlies. Too bad he didn't have a cape on. My hero!
We turned over, and rearranged all the furniture in the living room, but no centipede was spotted. It's a little difficult to go back to sleep once you've seen one of those things in your house. Every little whisper of movement against your skin, and you are beating yourself half to death for fear it has managed to crawl on you. Now we are contemplating taking all the furniture to Goodwill, and just sitting on folding chairs. I can't make myself sit on any of the living room furniture for fear of sharing it with the centipede that disappeared. Why am I afraid? I'm married to the knight in shining tighty whities and manly sandals. EGADS!
PS, Julie took a picture with her cellphone, but I better not post it. lol Paul still fails to see the humor in this story.
Ice Capades come to Edgewood November 2009
Ice Capades come to Edgewood featuring the great, the incredible, the falling star...Lucretia Bittner. Since my shining moment on ice, I have observed the happening through instant replay in my mind. In a kind of out of body experience I have replayed what the scene must have looked like from someone elses view.
Linda and Laurel arrived at our house, and I, with every intention of being a gracious hostess, opened the front door and intended to step out onto the sidewalk to hold the door open for them. As I stepped onto the top step, a greeting to them was expressed, and from there things became slippery to say the least. I don't recall stepping onto the top step. I just know that I was suddenly slithering around on the sidewalk at their feet.
Picture if you will...Linda and Laurel standing there on the sidewalk, suitcase and clothes bag in hand. Watching me slipping and sliding like a beached whale. I'm sure that a beached whale lies there on the sand wishing the ocean would just swallow it up, and with the embarassment of finding itself beached, is longing to be forever back into the depths of the sea. Instead it finds itself, fresh out of ocean, surrounded by Save The Whale people, pushing and proding it, all in the name of good works.
There I was on the sidewalk, slipping, sliding and slithering, with no hope of traction, upon the ice. There stood Linda and Laurel, suddenly becoming the Save the Lucretia people. Only they weren't pushing and proding. They were staring in wonder at the teeming mass of me, groping around for traction at their feet. I heard their voices from what seemed far above me, inquiring of my well being, but what could they do? They had their hands full of luggage, and their minds full of thoughts such as, "Oh please don't let that be me, slipping around on the ice at the feet of someone else, looking for all the world like an idiot."
I assured them that I was fine, while wondering if I was in fact fine. Of course I was fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? Falling from the icy top step onto the skating rink below was just a quick turn around the rink. As soon as I could get myself up, with much sliding of the hands and feet, I was up and acting like the graceful person that I am. I'm such kidder! Allow me to slip, slide and slither at your feet. Humility is my middle name! No worries. I just have a mild case of ice rash on my hand, a colorful bruise on my left shin, and a small bruise on my right knee. It could have been worse. It could have been Kelvin and Carl at whose feet I fell.
Cretia
UnSung Hero's
A friend of mine posted the following on her status: " RIP Dennis Hopper and Gary Coleman. . .sad losses of people that have enriched our lives." This made me think about the many unsung hero's that have enriched my life. I can't say that Dennis Hopper or Gary Coleman enriched my life. I know them as actors, couldn't really tell you what movies or shows they starred in, and I mean no disrespect to my friend who posted the comment. In fact I'm glad that she posted the comment, because it made me think of those who are unknown, unrecognized, not celebrities, who have enriched my life.
There are several men and women who have been a part of my life through the years, who to the world are unknown, but to me are hero's for many different reason. When they leave this world behind, the nation won't grieve, the newspapers won't mention their names, other than to post an obituary, time will march on, and a new day will dawn. In my heart of hearts, they will forever live in a special place for the unsung hero's that they were. In some cases still are.
My mom comes to mind. Life wasn't always easy for her, but she made sure that my brother and I were cared for, had a place to live, food to eat, and that we knew that we were loved. I often think about our lives as children, and where some would say that we had a hard life, I would disagree. Describe hard? If you mean we were poor, our cars were more often broken down than in operation, we didn't always have a lot of food, but we had a good life. I have great memories of my childhood, and difficulties enrich us, make us stronger, and help us appreciate what we do have. My mom is an unsung hero.
Have you met my Uncle Carroll? No, well that is your loss. He has always been there for my family. When I was a child, he made it possible for us to have a place to live. He struggled to support his family, he had enough love for Aunt Mary, their three girls, and for my mom, my brother, and for me. Then because he loved us, he shared his life through interesting stories, funny jokes, and thoughts, and today as he faces one of his greatest challenges, living with Parkinson's, he is teaching us about courage, facing adversity, and keeping a positive attitude. Not that it is easy, but because it is necessary.
I think about Aunt Mary. She is lovingly caring for Uncle Carroll. She helps him have a better life, when life is not easy. She continues to care for all of us, thinking of others, putting herself last. Will her life be one to make the headlines? Probably not, but that doesn't mean she hasn't enriched our lives. Uncle Charlie cared for Aunt Bell through her difficult illness, and then had to learn to cope without her. How do you move on when someone you loved for so many years has gone on? The world didn't know about the ache in his heart, or in the hearts of their children, but it was there, and it remains there today.
Grandma Lewis was a gentle, loving soul. She raised eleven kids, and somehow kept her sanity. Knowing those eleven kids, I'm not sure how she managed to keep her sanity. I often think of her leaving Hattiesburg. Mississippi, worrying that by some miracle Uncle Ross had not been killed at Normandy, and what if he came home, to find them all gone. I know she had the flag,the letter of condolence from his commanding office, his watch, with the broken face, the time forever stopped at his time of death.She had all of that, she held it in her hands, but a mother longs for the death of her child not to be true. In leaving Mississippi for New Mexico, she left the home place of her child, who she would never see again.
The day came when Grandma was free to travel, and travel she did. Always a suitcase was packed and ready. She traveled by car, bus, train and plane. When she died, we all grieved. We still miss her laughter, her crochet needles clicking, the homemade pillowcases, the shrimp salad, the chitlin cornbread, her wisdom, her love for all of us bratty grandkids. The world didn't know her, the newspapers didn't print all her wonderfulness, the nation didn't cry, but to us, she was our unsung hero.
Uncle Ross gave his life at Normandy. He was just another causality of WWII, but to our family he was a hero. The world didn't know that he had served his duty that night, and was longing for rest. They didn't know that his comrade was a scared young man, and that Uncle Ross took the young mans turn, which cost him his life. When the world looks at the cemetery at Normandy, they see thousands of white crosses, but when our family looks at Normandy, we see the name, Ross A Lewis PVT 105 MED 30 DIV, Mississippi, July 7, 1944. An unsung hero who died in a foreign land across the sea.
There are many more, and I'm sure that as you read this, you will be thinking of who they are to you. The unsung hero's, the unknown, the unrecognized, those who have enriched our lives, loved us, still love us, give us courage, share their wisdom, help us understand what really matters. For me, the list is endless. I'm glad that my friend posted the comment, and I'm glad that her comment reminded me that I have much to be thankful for, and there are many who have enriched my life, and who continue to enrich my life.
Cretia
I'm one of Life's Fortunate Ones
Today I was thinking about all my friends and family, and I realized that I'm one of life's fortunate ones. Not only am I fortunate enough to be Paul's wife, I'm Sarah, Julia and Jacob's mom. I get to be my mom's only daughter, my brothers only sister, I'm a cousin to several, a niece to my aunts and uncles, and a friend to so many people, I can't tell you the number.
In my 50 years of living, I have had some of the richest experiences. My family and friends have made the experiences of life the richest. I've laughed and cried with some of the best people in the world. We've shared life's trials, heartaches and blessings, and because we have, we've been blessed with the best. Wealth isn't about money. Having money is nice, or so I've heard. Having a wealth of family and friends, is the richness of life.
We all have special memories, and just one word, or one phrase will start an avalanche of laughter. To Uncle Jim I can just say, "Just throw it in the trunk.", and we are laughing hysterically. To my Florida friends I can say, 'Remember the night we learned to rug ski?", and that starts a recital of all the hilarious and stupid stuff we have done over the past 30 years. To Jane and Sherrie, you just mention the Nature Trail in the Sandia's, and the word CLOROX comes to mind, followed by gagging and hysterical laughter. To Linda, say the words teeter tooter and no more needs to be said. To Jacque, "Well Hello ALBUQUERQUE," and she will immediately burst out laughing. To my friend, and follow blogger, Lisa, A Cappella!
When you live life with your family and friends, you experience it all, and all of life's experiences make you richer. There are some really hard times in this life, but there are some of the best times as well. I'm thankful that I am one of life's fortunate ones, and I'm especially thankful for all who share this life with me.
In my 50 years of living, I have had some of the richest experiences. My family and friends have made the experiences of life the richest. I've laughed and cried with some of the best people in the world. We've shared life's trials, heartaches and blessings, and because we have, we've been blessed with the best. Wealth isn't about money. Having money is nice, or so I've heard. Having a wealth of family and friends, is the richness of life.
We all have special memories, and just one word, or one phrase will start an avalanche of laughter. To Uncle Jim I can just say, "Just throw it in the trunk.", and we are laughing hysterically. To my Florida friends I can say, 'Remember the night we learned to rug ski?", and that starts a recital of all the hilarious and stupid stuff we have done over the past 30 years. To Jane and Sherrie, you just mention the Nature Trail in the Sandia's, and the word CLOROX comes to mind, followed by gagging and hysterical laughter. To Linda, say the words teeter tooter and no more needs to be said. To Jacque, "Well Hello ALBUQUERQUE," and she will immediately burst out laughing. To my friend, and follow blogger, Lisa, A Cappella!
When you live life with your family and friends, you experience it all, and all of life's experiences make you richer. There are some really hard times in this life, but there are some of the best times as well. I'm thankful that I am one of life's fortunate ones, and I'm especially thankful for all who share this life with me.
Blogging, my new experiment
My first blog posting is dedicated to my friend, and cousin, Laura Lynn Lewis! Several have encouraged me to create a blogspot, but Laura has the honors of pushing me over the edge and onto the spot!
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