Whensday

I am a theme junkie.  I admit it!  I probably check out the Windows 7 themes – Microsoft Windows website every few days to see if there’s anything new.  I go to Windows 7 Themes | VikiTech.com and do the same thing.  I must have close to 200 themes now, some of which I made myself.  I change themes every couple of days.  I like the pretty, rotating pictures. 

The most recent theme I got was the Animal Affection theme – Microsoft Windows.  It sounded cute.  The thumbnail looked cute. 

But as the pictures slowly refreshed, this one came up on my other monitor.

And it knocked me back in time about mumble years or so, to when I was a little girl about 7 or 8.  For some reason, I got a parakeet just like the green one in the picture.  I don’t remember why I wanted the bird but I learned how to take care of him and clip his wings and clean the cage and all that goes along with taking care of birds.  I loved my bird.  I named him Sunshine.  He was my little buddy and he’d sing and sit on my shoulder while I played. 

Not long after that, I got a friend for him, a pretty little blue girl just like the one in the picture.  Not being very creative with names but thinking I was oh-so-clever, I named her Moonshine.  I thought they were very appropriate names, he with his sunny yellow colors and she with her nighttime sky palette. 

My father laughed and I didn’t know why.

My bird story ended as pretty much most bird stories do, when I was 9 or so.  But seeing that picture so unexpectedly brought so many memories rushing back.  It was like peeking into a window of my childhood. 

 

Whensday

It’s odd, but I can recall when the Monkees were on TV in prime time.  I think I was about 2 or 3, but I remember being in the room upstairs of the house we lived in at the time, watching them.

When I was about 6, my sister and her friend gave me all their old copies of their Monkees albums and I was in heaven.  I watched the show, then in syndication, every Saturday without fail.  I was going to grow up and marry Davy, you see, and Saturdays were my only chance to “see” him. 

I was also never going to be taller than 5’3”, because he was 5’3” and I couldn’t be taller than him.  That’s what I decided anyway, lol.  Isn’t it funny how at 6 you think you can control those things?

Of course, Davy would always remain as he was, until I caught up to him age-wise.  He would wait for me!  I was certain of that.  Then we would grow old together. 

By 9, I’d moved on to Donny – such is the fickleness of youth!  But Davy would always be my first “love.” 

And when I was 6, no one, and I mean NO ONE, had moves like he did!  As much as 6 years olds can, he made me swoon. 

It’s hard to believe he’s gone! 

Thank you for the memories, Davy.  My condolences to your wife and daughters. 

 

 

 

Whensday

I cracked up when I first saw this picture, and posted it on FaceBook.  It brings up a very special family memory for me.  The story behind the giggle is kind of cute though but first I wanted to give some background.

I don’t do horror very well.  As a little kid, my sister would terrorize me by making me watch Dark Shadows, after which I could be found cowering under the bed.

As a teen, I came of age in the Halloween, and Friday the 13th era, which became popular date films.  I almost walked out of The Boogeyman but my date convinced me not to.  I remember perhaps 1 scene from each of those, the rest of the time spent hiding behind my hands.  I would have walked out on My Bloody Valentine but was a guest at someone else’s home and didn’t want to look childish.  So you can see, horror and I never mixed well. 

And then, then I married a horror writer.  Proof that the Lord does indeed have an interesting sense of humor! 

To his credit, the only horror movie Darc ever really strongly encouraged me to watch was The Exorcist.  We caught the 30th anniversary release.  Afterward, I could only wonder what all the fuss was about.

Eventually I realized that what I really loathe is what I’ve come to call “gorror,” that cross between horror and outright, gratuitous gore.  I hate the gory stuff, the bloody, slashing, stabbing, gooey, icky, red yuck.  But suspense I can handle okay.

So when the MiniNess was about 4, Darc picked up a copy of Alien, one of his all time favorite horror movies, and wanted to watch it during family movie time.  I was a bit dubious.  The kids were kind of little for that, I thought.  But we put it in figuring we could stop it if they seemed like they were getting scared.  During the first “facehugger” scene, the scene where the creature leaps onto John Hurt’s face and attaches itself, which startled me since it was the first time I’d ever seen it myself, I heard the little gasps come out of the kids.  Oh here we go! I thought, they’re going to freak out and have nightmares and I shouldn’t have let them see this and …

“Can we watch it again, Daddy?  Can you back up so we can see it again?  That was so cool!”

This is my 4 year old?  My sweet, precious, baby girl?  She wants to see it again?!

“That’s my girl!” exclaimed the proud daddy. 

She couldn’t handle the sight of the vacuum at the time, that sent her screaming to her bed to hide under the covers, but the facehugger in Alien was definitely not a problem.

Yep, that’s not thunder you hear, those are heavenly guffaws. 

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Whensday

I was telling my kids a story about my own childhood the other day, and it had my husband in stitches.  I’m not sure why, but for what it’s worth, here’s the story.

When I was a kid, I was a pretty picky eater.  Oh, who am I kidding?  I still AM a picky eater!  Although I’m not nearly as bad as I was as a kid.  Anyway, in addition to my being a picky eater, my mother was a horrible cook.  She did criminal things to food, I kid you not.  How much of her bad cooking contributed to me being a picky eater, one will never know.

One time, I must have been around 10 or 11, she made something for my dinner that – best as I can recall, was either mushrooms or Brussels sprouts.  It was round and slimy, I remember that, and I would not eat it.  It looked weird, it smelled awful, and it was slimy.  No way.  Would. Not. Eat.

I can be a stubborn girl when I have a mind to.

My mother yelled at me, threatened me, all kinds of things she told me would happen if I didn’t eat the science experiment reject in front of me.  Eventually she picked up a piece of whatever it was off my plate and tried to shove it in my mouth.

Oh no, we are so not going there!  I clasped my hand over my mouth as an extra barrier of protection.  This was a battle of epic proportions!

My mother, in her rage and frustration, leaned over and bit my hand, the hand covering my mouth.  She bit me!  I remember screaming, and I had a set of lungs on me too, it’s a wonder the neighbors on the other side of the wall didn’t call the police. 

At this point in the story, Darc busted up laughing.  I mean to tell you, he almost had tears running down his face, and that’s quite a feat of accomplishment for me!  Usually I’m the one splitting a gut at his stories.

“Why are you laughing?” I asked him.  “My knuckles were bloody and had teeth marks and everything!”

I try to remember that my beloved is a writer of horror fiction so things often strike him in a way they don’t other people. 

“Oh my gosh,” he replied, “‘Eat or be eaten!’  That’s just priceless.”

I guess it does have sort of a vampire quality to it.  Eat or be eaten.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll make it into one of his stories yet! 

[Preview: Vampire Bestiary « Eternity Publishing]

 

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Cross posted at DarcsFalcon.com

Whensday

Boy, this picture brought back a memory!  I actually had a dog say this to me once.

For various reasons, one day many years ago I found myself at the animal shelter, looking for a dog.  There were several to choose from, but most seemed to have some issue or other, whether it was being too noisy or too big, whatever. 

Near the end of the row, sat a quiet canine.  He wasn’t too big and he wasn’t too small.  He was black and brown and looked sort of like a Rottweiler, but he was not as big as one so I knew he was a mix of things.  He just sat there, looking at me, not barking, just quiet.  I walked over to his cage and he stood up and came to the door and we stood looking at each other in the “aisle” there at the shelter.  He seemed like a calm dog, not given to being the sort that jumps on or nips at people. 

I decided to bring him home. 

On the way, he sat in the front seat, just looking out the window.

When we got to the house, he got out of the car and came in with me, and then he proceeded to investigate every nook and cranny in the place.  It took him maybe 20 minutes or so, but I just stood waiting for him in the living room. 

Eventually he came back to me, sat down by my feet and said, “Okay lady, I’ll keep you.” 

The vet said he looked to be half Rottweiler and half Beagle.  He almost never left my side for nearly 5 years and he was one of the best dogs I ever had.  He’s up in puppy Heaven now or wherever dogs go, and I’m pretty sure he’s keeping my couch cushion warm up there too. 

Whensday

I was thinking about my bed the other night, as I was trying to fall asleep.  It’s funny how the mind wanders from one thing to another.  Thinking about my bed brought me to some memories of when I was younger. 

See, I was thinking how silly I feel having to climb into my bed like a kid, how beds seem so much taller now than when I was younger.  Taller up top, but not as much room beneath.  I remembered how I used to jump out of my bed when I had a nightmare because I was convinced there was a monster or murderer hiding underneath, just waiting for me to put my foot on the floor.  Jumping to the middle of the room and making a run for it seemed safest.  Something – or someone! – could be hiding under there!

Then I remembered something that happened when I was in high school. 

I used to walk a few blocks out of my way sometimes to meet up at my friend’s house to catch the bus.  One day, I knocked on her door and found out that she was staying home from school because she was sick.  Her mother had already gone to work for the day so it was nothing for me to simply decide to stay home with her.  We had fun playing hooky, until close to lunch time when my friend told me her mother would be home soon and I should probably go.  Only, where was I going to go?  My mother was home from work that day herself so I couldn’t go there.  Quick thinker that I was (oh shut up!) I decided to hide under her bed. 

We waited until the last possible minute, as her mother pulled into the driveway, before I wiggled under her bed.  I laid there, stifling giggles, for an hour, while she ate some lunch and puttered around, asking her daughter how she felt, if she’d gotten started on homework, that kind of stuff.  After she left, I crawled back out and we continued our day of hooky until it was safe for me to go home.

I had some room under that bed.  I mean, not like I could do jumping jacks, but it wasn’t an impossible fit, I could turn my head and had some movement if I had an itch or something.

Not like today – my kids couldn’t fit under the beds we have now.  And not just because I still keep tons of stuff under it either.  For, uh, storage purposes, you know.  

On the one hand, I’m glad bed manufacturers have made it pretty much impossible for anyone to hide under beds anymore.  On the other hand, I wish I didn’t feel like I was 4 years old every night at bedtime.

Whensday

We’ve loved Star Trek a long time.  Lately, thanks to the wonders of Netflix, we’ve been able to watch episodes of it in the evenings.  We’ve actually turned our kids onto it!  Initially, we started watching old episodes of The Next Generation (TNG) but Darc and I have seen them so many times that we could practically recite the episodes based on the vague little episode descriptions that Netflix posted.  On a whim one evening, Darc decided to hop over to Star Trek Voyager.  Neither of us actually watched the series while it was on – probably due to whatever was going on in our personal lives at the time before we met.  So for us, the series seems fresh and new.  The kids love it too and even make up little Star Trek stories.  We’ve initiated a whole new generation into the Trek world. 

As I watched my daughter mimic Captain Janeway, it made me think of when I first fell in love with Star Trek.  I was about her age, a bit younger, just barely 5.  Star Trek TOS (The Original Series) must have just gone into syndication or something because it was on in the late afternoon.  I remember that because I remember fighting with my sister over the TV.  She, in her mature teen fashion, insisted on watching Star Trek and refused, REFUSED to give over control of the TV to her little sister, who was desperate to watch Mr Rogers’ Neighborhood.  I remember her standing in front of the TV and blocking me from being able to change the channel.  Yes, this was long before remote control days!  We were yelling at each other until finally my mother intervened.  That’s how I know I was 5, because by the time I was 6 my mother and I were no longer living there. 

My sister won the battle.  I remember crying.  I loved Mr Rogers!  He was my friend!  How could I go a whole day without watching him?  Five-year-old little girls love their fits.

The episode of Star Trek that was on that afternoon was the one with the Abraham Lincoln character.  I knew who that was!  I learned about him in school and he was on money!  Oh, I was mesmerized!  They made him look alive again!  He was almost real, this greatest of all presidents!  (Until Reagan, of course!  )  Captain Kirk and the guy with the pointy ears were amazing to me, able to defeat the hated rock monster, and I became a fan for life.  Heroes!  I loved heroes!  They had cool gadget stuff and traveled through space in a ship that was sort of like a submarine, but much more amazing.  They were out there, where the astronauts had recently been, to the moon and beyond (I watched that too!).  How could I not love it? 

Sure, I still loved Mr Rogers.  Always did!  The world is a sadder place without him in it.  But I found room in my heart that day for the Star Trek neighborhood too, and it’s so cool to be able to share that with my kids now. 

Live long and prosper!

You knew I’d get it in somehow! 

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