Out from under the rock

Since this is the family story blog, I've been searching the archives for memories. Then I came across the About Me thing I did on Facebook ... thought that might be a good start. What I really need are all those good juicy stories about my mom and other family members out there ... hello, fambly: Are you listening?


Let's see ... how do all good stories begin?


Once upon a time, a small girl child was found under a rock in a city called Saginaw. Her first 5 years were filled with magic and wonder (and a few visits from firemen and trips to the E.R.). She had three imaginary friends to keep her company during the day, but they went away when she started school. 


The little girl's first glimpse of real life was at the age of almost 11 when her mother died. In the decades that followed, she was surrounded by the love of her family, made many friends and learned many good things - hitting a few rocky patches along the way. Went to college, studied life, changed her major about a dozen times, brought a beautiful baby girl into the world, held 27 jobs ranging from bartender to lab assistant to art studio manager and truck driver to copywriter. Finally went to Europe and bought a house (in the U.S., not Europe) at the age of 39. Also began the reverse aging process.


Story to be continued ...


P.S. My mom and dad always said they found me under a rock when I asked where I came from. Thought that was kind of gross --- under there with all the slugs and slimy things. But sort of cool at the same time. Where did your parents find YOU?

Going Crackers

I have no reason for inserting this photo except that I just found it. It's a little figure in my backyard - used to be the base of a birdbath - that I discovered the first spring in our house when I was tidying up our secluded, tangled Secret Garden-esque retreat. There's another little cherub that was tipped over with just its little hand poking out of the ivy. Kinda freaky.

Anyway, I pulled out my "raw material" notes from my sister's ramblings earlier this year. Here are her recollections of the Cuban Missile Crisis.

We were at the Buckingham Apartments in Arlington during the Cuban crisis. One day, mom came home quite agitated. It wasn’t a payday but she said we needed to go to the drugstore.

We bought a transistor radio and batteries.

Then, we had a treat - a grilled cheese and soda at the counter. That was the kind of treat we usually only got on payday.

Soon after, big military trucks came to our apartment building. Our building had been designated as one of the shelters. The trucks brought food and water for our complex - cases of crackers and barrels of water.

The storage area was fenced in with chicken wire and had a door and a lock. Mom was trying to explain that we were going to war. I always associated this with the turquoise transistor radio.

Well, those crackers stayed there forever and it eventually attracted mice and rats.

In 2000 when people were freaking out about Y2K I thought about those boxes of crackers from when I was a little girl. So what'd I do? I bought crackers every time I went to the store. I had at least 10 boxes at one point. Then they got stale so I fed them to the birds.

Photo Evidence

Gosh, it's been more than six months since I've posted here. Kind of disturbing that the most recent post has that lovely photo of me in labor almost 20 years ago, below.

Since this is the place for me to tell the family stories, I'm moving the update on the upstairs bathroom/bedroom painting project on over here. Get caught up here first, and then come back and see the pretty photos. And to learn more about my fine home repair skills, read this story.

All caught up now?

Now, you may enjoy the "after" photos. I seem to have no control over where they show up on the page. Sigh.

Eric Schantz is the artist who painted the giant irises here. He's been in the news a fair amount for his public paintings around Saginaw - painting boarded up buildings, Arson Watch signs, murals and more. Just Google his name with any of those key words. I just told him I wanted to eradicate the ugly wallpaper here - and to paint some flowers. I came home from work one day to find floor-to-ceiling irises. It's even more impressive in person.

Here's Eric's bathroom ceiling/wall masterpiece. See? You can't even tell were the giant crater was. The blue on the ceiling is the blue I used on the door. I shouldn't just say it's "blue." It had some really fun name, like Serendipity. In fact, the paint names were key selection criteria.

I replaced the old yellowed plastic switch covers with porcelain ones. It's the details ...

I have no idea what happened to the lighting here. The golden glow is lovely, isn't it? That's the original sink. The cabinet and little shelf were probably installed in the 70s when the last owner bought this house. There's a lot of evidence that they did a ton of work then - like new wiring, refinishing the woodwork downstairs, installing new windows upstairs, painting trim throughout the house SAGE GREEN ...

Current status of project:

Still need to put a doorknob on the little cabinet below the sink. This requires me going ALL THE WAY to the basement to get the drill. Or something. (Didn't John B. do a fabulous job on the little cabinet? If you need a carpenter, I highly recommend him. That man is a master craftsman - and does amazing technical drawings, which is how I first met him through my job. While he was helping me with various projects around the house I learned that he grew up in my neighborhood AND was one of my dad's students. I'm sure there's a story there ... in any event, dad would be so proud.)

Need help hanging the light fixtures I purchased. Yes, Virginia, I had all summer to do this. Lizz knew better than to point it out more than 27 times. They look fine in their boxes, I think. The time will come ... Oh, I might want to have someone help me re-hang the door. It won't shut all the way. (Refer to fine home repair skills and bathroom doors above.) I painted the door blue, by the way.

I think I need to hang the other porcelain towel hook somewhere.

There are a few other miscellaneous to-do's that aren't really worth mentioning. We'll just sweep them under the rug ... oh wait, a rug would be a nice touch, wouldn't it? I saw the cutest Pottery Barn monkey rug the other day that has just the right colors. There's a simple geometric design with a stylized happy monkey face in one corner ... not Curious George or anything like that.

Always looking for family stories to share here ... I picked Sharon's brain earlier this year and have to revisit those notes. It might be time to bring out her memories of the Cuban Missile Crisis.