This is my brother Steve, the science teacher at Ft. Knox, and my brother Mike in the background. I think this photo must’ve been taken in North Dakota, but I don’t remember details about it. I only know that was a time when life was full of possibilities and his future was one of hope. I posted this today because I wanted to talk again about Steve and his family, especially after reading the post yesterday by Jeff at Atwood Zoo. His incredibly personal account of having a child with disabilities had me crying and snotting like I was 10-years old.
Steve and his wife Trish have three children and the two oldest, Trevor and Leah, are autistic. Autism is a weird, terrible illness that traps children in their own minds. I’m not around my nephew and niece as much as I’d like because of distance, but when I am with them they are very loving and sweet. Yes, sometimes they they seem a little off, but we know they are very smart. They just have difficulty in social situations thanks to one side of the brain not talkin to the other side. I’ve often wondered what Trevor would’ve been like had his mind freed him to be himself - I can easily imagine him as the most popular boy at school with a career in science or math in his future. Instead, my brother’s worries and fears about whether Trevor will be able to find a job and have a life after high school hurt my heart. What happens to autistic adults when they are unable to cope in our everyday world? What happens to them after their parents are gone?
Their daughter Leah’s autism is even more pronounced than Trevor’s. But she is a bright girl and reads, talks, laughs. She also has a friend… I remember reading the joy expressed in one of my brother’s emails that she had found a best friend. Remember how important it was when you were in junior high (aka middle) and high school to have a friend to share secrets, laugh, figure out what teacher is mean and who’s nice, and most importantly talk about boys or girls? I hope Leah’s friendship lasts after school because she’ll have that when nothing else is guaranteed.
My brother’s youngest child, Darby, has grown up with autistic siblings so I often wonder if she’ll be an advocate for people who have disabilities when she’s an adult.
Maybe a cure will be found and Darby won’t have to worry about her brother and sister. There are people making tremendous efforts to find a cure for this disease. For example, the band Five for Fighting is donating 40 cents every time this video is previewed. It’s beautiful and uplifting. Just like the children of autism.
While I was at the end of the driveway this morning waiting for my daughter’s bus to come, Pootster had a massive seizure. When I got into the house, my mother-in-law Velma said, “Thank God you’re back!” She told me what happened, so I sat down on the floor next to the dear old cat and tried to calm her. She couldn’t move, was drooling and panting, so I just tried to comfort her. I finally picked her up off the cold floor and put her on her blanket where she continued to jerk and drool. She was very disoriented and stumbling around once she did get up. Poor baby was scared. We called the Vet and they let us bring her in right away. It was time.
Velma and I have been crying all morning even though Pootster was a pain in the butt. She constantly meowed and it was LOUD. She had to eat every morning, afternoon, and night and made sure we knew when it was time to dine. Plus she’d sit on the floor next to me during dinner and wait for me to drop whatever meat I could sneak down to her. She loved chicken and fish, but didn’t care much for hamburger. She was supposed to die about 17 years ago because she had been diagnosed with feline leukemia, but beat those odds. She would’ve been 20 next month.
When Velma and I got her to the Vet, they were very gentle and kind. She was in no pain at the end. We’ll see her on the other side. If cats go to heaven. If we go to heaven. Here’s Pootster one last time.
The Unknown Kitty
This isn’t a pretty picture of her, but shows how much she had to be in the middle of things at Christmas. This Christmas, she wasn’t interested even in her catnip.
She says to dog, “Look into my eyes while I hyp-mutt-ize you.”
The hard part will be telling the kids this afternoon.
Okay this isn’t really an old photo, but we’ll pretend Cade has an OLD SOUL for the sake of the whole old photo thingie.
Is he not one of the cutest baby boys ever? I’m growing to like baby boys - my niece just had Maximus and my brother called tonight to say that he and his wife learned today that their bundle of joy due on June 21 will be a boy. Then there’s this little thing who’s just cute beyond words. I hope your color monitor works because I want to point out Cade’s nose.
Notice the orange? I didn’t know this even after raising two daughters. Did you know when babies eat a lot of orange food (carrots, sweet potatoes), they turn orange? Hence the orange nose. Funny but I showed homes to a lovely woman over the weekend who kind of had an orange tint to her, too. She eats lots of raw veggies - especially carrots.
So go eat some veggies!
I had written on my real estate blog last week that I received our office’s “Whale Done” Award and was up for the company-wide award. The Bob Parks Celebration banquet was today and … guess what? I WON!
Bob Parks did the presentation and when he started talked about how the person who won is a “mentor” to other agents, she’s served on Agent Council, is very active in the community I was thinking “check, check, check.” Then he said how the winner has been active in fundraisers for the medical needs of a young boy (check) and has helped countless agents set up their personal blogs (check), I felt pretty sure it was me. It was.
It is the most incredible feeling to hear an audience burst into applause for you and woot and holler etc. ::BLUSHING!:: I got a standing ovation. So here are my pictures after the awards.
That’s me doing my best bulldog impression.
And here’s the more sane version of me holding my award - a $500 travel voucher to anywhere. Hey Dad… you still want to go to Hawaii? Hee hee! I’m smiling with my mouth closed because I still have a piece of pepper between my teeth that I haven’t managed to dig out yet. No toothpicks in office. Ahhh… the life of a glamour doll!
North Dakota was sure cold. When we moved there from Arkansas, our parents bought all of us parkas for those days we had to wait at the bus stop or walk to school. They really worked! We also wore mittens instead of gloves because mittens kept our hands warmer. That’s my sister Karen in the picture along with my youngest brother Dean in the bottom right hand corner. He’s holding his stuffed green frog that he carried around everywhere. But I’m remembering a giant plastic fish (was it red?) that he also lugged around. I’m surprised he didn’t grow up to study herpetology or icthyology given those early years. I posted this photo of the parka because I just saw on the news that it’s supposed to get to 30 below zero somewhere before wind chill. While in N.D., we lived through 48 below weather without the wind chill. Brrrrr.
Today is our company “celebration” day. I have to wear a cheesey Smyrna bulldogs sweatshirt along with the other people in my office because of the football championship. We’re supposed to be the Smyrna team or some stupid shi*. Ordinarily I wouldn’t really care, but a couple of things make a difference this year: 1.) It’s long sleeved and I hate long sleeves, 2.) There’s a handful of old biddies from my office who refuse to dress with the rest of us (they aren’t team players), and 3.) I think there’s a good possibility that I might get a big award today and IF so, I get to go up wearing a stupid Smyrna bulldog t-shirt that’ll make ME look like a bulldog. Nice.
Ivy called me last night and told me a very funny story. Her son was hanging with the son of another Realtor, a successful agent from a big company, and they started joking around like, “I’ll buy TWO houses from your Mom.” As the conversation progressed, Ivy told him that her friend Kathy is a Realtor. He asked, “Is it Kathy Tyson?” (a 13-year old boy asked this). She said it was. He told Ivy that Kathy Tyson is a big Realtor and he’d use “her” instead of his Mom if he was Ivy. That cracked me up. I’d have to kill my kids if they said that to someone!
They’ll think I’m big when they get a load of me wearing that bulldog t-shirt.
Because of all the driving I did today showing properties to a really sweet couple, I decided to put this picture up of a “whoops!” shot. This photo was apparently accidentaly taken in my parents’ old American Motors Rambler. I remember the car - a “before seatbelts” version. It may be the car that my Dad was driving when I knocked him out.
I was a wee one standing in the front seat between Mom and Dad (no car seats then either - it’s a wonder we survived in that simple time). My bottle was somehow wedged in the seat or Mom was sitting on part of it or something (so I hear). I leaned down and gave it a mighty tug. When it came loose, it flew through the air and struck Dad in the head. I don’t believe he was out for more than a few seconds, but it’s a story my parents told on me as I was growing up. Maybe it’s why Dad always said, “Go kill me a bear while you’re at it.” when I’d whine about being too weak or girlie to do something.
Now to tie in this photo with politics, did you know that American Motors was the company that Mitt Romney’s own father managed before they went belly-up? Or so I hear.
This is my cousin Brian. He’s the one I asked yesterday if I should tell his “hunting” story and I decided I would. When he was a teenager or possibly young adult, he decided he needed to nab him a deer. So he got up early one morning and went into the woods near his grandmother’s house (grandma on the other side of the family). After a few hours, Brian felt an urge that’s familiar to all of us … he needed to use the loo.
Brian dropped out of his deer stand that was up in a tree. Then he dropped his camouflage coveralls, found a place to squat, and took care of his business. At some point later that morning, he headed over to his grandmother’s. Sitting in her kitchen, she commented that something smelled foul - like poo. He had also noticed the smell. So he went to his grandma’s bathroom to check something. When he again pulled down his camouflage coveralls, he discovered he’d made a terrible mistake. He hadn’t held the coveralls far enough away from what would’ve been ground zero of his improvised outdoor toilet and had crapped inside his coveralls. He’d been carrying the deposit around in his pants all day.
Another cousin Brian story that still makes me giggle is when he was a little boy he was sitting down at a construction site where his father was working. My brother also working had noticed Brian staring at a rubber mallet. Suddenly, Brian banged himself in the head with it, nearly knocking himself out. His dad asked, “Boy why would you do that?” Brian said, “It said it was RUBBER!”
Brian did grow up to be a fine man, by the way. He’s quick to laugh and is a very loving amazing person.
I posted a photo of my Grandpa the other day and when I saw this photo of my brothers and cousin, I just had to tell the story of what this picture reminded me of. (I know, bad sentence structure, but c’est la vie). First, from left to right is brother Steve, cousin Mark, and brother Jimmy. Jim or my Dad can probably tell where this picture was taken, but it was for sure in St. Meinrad, Indiana.
Okay, see my cousin Mark? He was always so fun to be around. He was a city boy transplanted to the country when his Mom (my Mom’s sister) moved the family from New Jersey to rural Indiana. But he embraced that country life and one day took his gun to go hunting on Grandpa’s farm*. He was so proud when he came back to the house to show that he nabbed a duck**! What he didn’t understand is the duck he shot was a domestic duck… one of the white ones that swam around Grandpa’s pond.
*Do I dare tell my cousin Brian’s hunting story?
**There may have been more than one duck… I just don’t remember. That’s what happens as you age. You tend to fergit.
Since I became a GREAT Aunt yesterday evening… shucks I always knew I was magnificent so it’s nice to also be great… I’m going to feature an old baby photo today!
That’s me on the left with Karen on the right. The baby in the middle? That’s my brother who just became a Grandpa! He’s the bro who plays in the band. Congratulations!
I have a couple of questions I need to toss to the ladies of Home-Ec 101.
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I have a tablecloth used during a Girl Scout ceremony in which we lit lots of candles. Not just ordinary white candles, but “crayola” colored candles! I have melted blobs of red, blue, yellow, and green wax all over the tablecloth. Is there a way to get the wax out or is the tablecloth history?
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I had just opened a brand new toothbrush right before I got sick over Christmas. I haven’t used it since because you know how bacteria tends to stick to things like wet toothbrushes. Previously I’ve cleaned toothbrushes by running them in the dishwasher, but as sick as I was with that virus I just don’t want to risk contaminating anything. Since vinegar cleans everything, would it also sanitize a toothbrush? Just curious! Do you have other ideas?
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How does the inside of a curio cabinet collect dust? Of course, it’s been like three years and I’m just now seeing some.
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Would you want to be famous enough to have an obituary written in advance? When I studied journalism, we had to practice writing obits and knew they were done in advance… even for the moderately famous.
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Speaking of famous, when will we see a Home-Ec 101 TV show? You know what I’m talking about! Producer? Kathy T.! Hey Hollywood!!! I have an idea for you!
My niece gave birth at 7:38 this evening to a bouncing baby boy, 7 pounds, 12 ounces. His name (last I heard) is Maximus Alexander and he’ll be called Max.
Am waiting for pictures.
I’m sure he’s cute to the maximus.
PICTURE!
After the photo yesterday of my Mom and sister at the campground, I thought I’d throw in this picture of part of us kiddos wading in the lake. There are sometimes photos of me not goofing off.
One of the highlights of our camping trips - or perhaps the way our parents bribed us into leaving without having to listen to hissy fits - was that Dad would stop at a dairy dip type store on the way home and we’d each get an ice cream cone. We always thought it was the ice cream that made us sleepy, but it was really our exhaustion from days of running and playing.
I was in a car today touring new listings by my office. We were talking about kids and what they say to their parents. I shared that my youngest daughter has a nickname for me. It’s “Shut Up!”*
*My husband says it’s sometimes, “Shut up, stupid!”**
**There are good days with children. Today the one said “I love you Mom!” and hugged me completely unprovoked. She didn’t even want to go buy a binder*** or anything.
***The youngest has an addiction to buying binders. While I don’t understand the addiction, I strongly suspect she’ll be a manager of Office Depot or Staples someday.
I am still undecided about who gets my vote in Tennessee’s primary in February.
Do I pick Monica Lewinsky’s ex-boyfriend’s wife?
Do I pick John Edwards because he’s easy on the eyes and I dig how he says “Nooooooooooo.” in that North Carolina drawl?
Do I pick Obama even though his first name closely resembles a vegetable I don’t like if you add ‘oli to the end?
Sigh.
Saw Fred Thompson dropped out. I’m picturing Elizabeth Taylor howling right now. I adore that clip of her saying when asked if she’d ever remarry, “Nooooooooooooo! I’m going howl now! Aaah-ooooooooooooooooo!” The best clip of 2007.
I’ve also been reading about Heath Ledger’s death. Man, I can’t even begin to describe how sad that makes me for his family and friends. I know what it’s like hearing about a friend being found dead next to his bed. And then worrying that the cause of death could’ve been due to drugs. Even the relief we felt when we we heard that he died of natural causes was weird because he was still gone.
I dreamed about our friend Lindell the other night. It was the first time I dreamed of him since his death. I dreamed he came to my office and handed me something. He said he had to leave and I rode the elevator down with him (we don’t have an elevator). A back door opened in the elevator and he stepped into a doctor’s-type office with naugahyde orange and yellow chairs. He sat down in one and just stared straight forward. No one else was there, not even a person behind the glass registration window. I stayed in the elevator as the doors closed.
Well this was a random post. Sorry about that.
