Two Tuesday

Today is Donny Osmond's 51st birthday. And the picture here is me and Donny Osmond -again-around 2002 or so (wow--even I think I look different now!). Outside a local Dallas radio station Kiss-FM 106.1, while Donny waited for his driver to take him to the next radio station interview. It was also right before Donny asked me if I could TAKE him to that next radio station! His driver was late, which made Donny even later, and my car was parked just across the street. Panic flowed thru my veins. See, on the way to see Donny, I'd dropped a pretty much filled bag of Doritos chips in my car--and well, they were still there. Sure, Donny had five sons, but I really didn't think of that then! Within seconds, his driver showed up, passed up Donny (and his assistant or manager--a guy was with him)and did a U turn to come back for them. After that, I drove straight to the car wash and vacuumed out my car. I mean, you never know when Terrance Howard or Brad Pitt may need a ride.

Second. We may have a snow flurry or three tonight. The wind chill is 27 degrees with a north wind of about 30 mph. That wind zipped to the bone and reminded me of Iowa all right. Wasn't it just yesterday I had my window open as I typed on my PC? Yes...yes...it was.

Hmm. If Donny is 51 today, that means in 120 days, I'll be....uh...well. I won't worry about that now. I have a bowl of soup to get from my crock pot, a blanket to get under and a remote to use to FF thru the not so exciting parts of the Young and the Restless.

Car Update

I will miss my little Grandy Am, red duct tape and all....however I'm still in the fruit world. I now own a Chevy HHR. Looks like a big 'ol orange in my drive way. Great gas mileage. Reminds of a hearse--yet it's all mine---well, mine and the bank's!

It's funny--years ago--I was about 10 or 11, my mom and I were in a shoe store. She liked this one pair and I thought them ugly. Different sort of look than I usually went for. Mom said that's what made em cool--they were different. I look at this car the same way. To me its ugly, yet it's so different it makes it cool. After that day of shopping, I wound up buying those shoes. And I recall girls in my grade school really liked them.

And today, my car purchase reminds me of my mom, who passed away in 1971. The memory makes me smile, because I know her hand was in this car purchase. Today is her 80th birthday.

Now I need to finish today's episode of Young and the Restless-get rid of Chloe...now!

I am blessed.

The 7th

On July 7, 1988 I began my trek from Iowa to Dallas. My Fifth Street Friend sat in the passenger seat of my 1987 gold Dodge Colt. I’d just decided to get a/c put in. Fifth Street’s mom wished me well, as we set out that morning about 7ish. I think she was more glad I was leaving town. The lady liked me, yet she feared I put wild ideas in her daughter’s head. She needn’t have worried; her daughter could and did, do that on her own! My two cats at the time, calico Millee, along with her son, an orange, long haired fat boy, Morris, meowed from their crates. I tried to dry my own tears, after saying good-bye to my dad. I lived at home for the last two years. Even tho, living with the folks cramped your style, it was good to know you had a next meal and the clothes would get washed. Nonetheless, on that July 7th, we got on I-35 South for a 750 mile journey, that’s still not over.

November 7th, 2001. My first day at work, after the death of my dad on October 18. It was a comfortable feeling. To be back in a routine. It helped the grieving process. I missed my dad’s calls every Saturday. I wouldn’t leave my place, until I heard his voice say, “Hey, girl, what you doin?” Always had guilt I left him back in Iowa. That I should have taken care of him. Find a job back there. Whenever Dad saw me look at the job ads, he’d always said, “There ain’t nothing back here for you.” I would remind him that he was there. He’d shift his cigar and say, “I’ll always be here. You hafta leave your life.” On October 23, 2001, which was my parents’ 47th wedding anniversary, was also my dad’s funeral. I think he planned it that way. Together again---at last.

March 7, 2006. The day I a doctor informed my life would forever change by having open heart surgery that following Monday. Then five minutes, the same doctor came back and announced Monday was too backed up, so I was pushed to March 14. My mitral valve needed to be repaired or replaced. Last week, my cardiologist told me she liked the fact, I’ve gone on with my life as if nothing happened, yet I get reminded. Yep, every time my scar itches or the tip of it clashes with a top I have on or when I take my INR and I’m two tenths out of “the range”, and need to come back in 10 days, instead of a month.

April 7, 2008. The day I moved into my first house. Also the day before my Roman numeral “L” birthday. I woke up in my own house on my birthday! What a great present! How and why did I ever live in an apartment so long? Tish Tosh. The whole move-in, get settled, is still a work in progress. Cats adjusted better and quicker than I did.

June 7, 2008—in my hometown for my high school class’ 50th Birthday Party. Where the last chat of the night I most remember. A classmate who says, ‘You know I’m just a farmer who drinks beer.” Enlightened me and encouraged me to take on public speaking. He says nobody can say what I have to sa with the way I say it. He’s since been traveling to speak to other farmers about farmer stuff. I’m proud of him. His talk stays with me. “I expect to hear about you,” he said. Maybe so.

Today July 7, 2008. I got a taste of what good neighbors are. My coolant leaked from my car. I noticed the puddle as I pulled out of my driveway for my Target run. I was glad Target is literally 5 minutes away. Yet, I was petrified enough, it might as well been 500. Made it home safe and sound. I headed next door to my neighbors, J and his wife J. They always wave and smile. I figured they may know a good mechanic. J Wife’s brother-in-law is a mechanic, and lives down the street. The brother-in-law and the wife were on their way to dinner, yet he says he’ll look at my car. He looks, finds the leak. I tell him I will not drive it tomorrow—heck, I’ve blown up engines before. He says he’ll bring his tools tomorrow night. My best friend will pick me up for work in the morning. I like his neighborhood stuff.

On the 7th Day, He rested.

I am blessed.