jennytales

Summer Slide

Sliding Marri

I've been fortunate lately to spend time with my nieces and nephews. Quality time...slow moving, lazy days of summer time. And in doing so, its helped me realize what the children in my life can teach me. The value of spontaneity, joy, living in the present, these truths come as simply as breathing to kids. The weightiness and responsibility that takes over too many of our adult moments hasn't shackled them yet. They are free to be.

R.I.P. Wild Bill

Photo courtesy of 
Nicholas_T called "Empty Road"

Unlike many teenagers, I had little interest in learning to drive. Gettysburg is a small place. It was easy to get where I needed to go without driving. Dad simply refused to get in a car with me sitting behind the wheel. Mom had better things to do than focus on my driver training. Ron, my boyfriend made several valiant attempts to teach me how to drive his green pick up truck. Round and round we went near Spangler's Spring with me trying to master the necessary arm movements to handle a gear shift on the steering column. Ever uncoordinated, it wasn't happening and finally his patience ran out. I found myself relegated back to my usual spot on the passenger side or somewhere in between.

But there was someone who was willing to tolerate all my silly learning-to-drive mistakes. One who taught me all the skills I needed with a relatively quiet determination. Wild Bill lived next door to my grandmother. His rowdy reputation sometimes preceded himself. Hardly a shrinking violet, he had seen it all, witnessed every kind of driver, and he knew just how to handle me. As the driver's ed instructor, his car was specially equipped with brakes on the passenger side and other safety bail-out types of gadgets necessary to teach a challenged learner like me.

Together we buzzed off down the road. For the most part he sat very quietly observing my skills with an occasional grunted remark. But he came to life when we hit the open road on Route 15. I will never forget those first moments of driving on the highway. "Accelerate Jenny! You're over driving. Look down the road ahead as far as your eyes can see to the horizon line." As Wild Bill sparingly dished out his words of wisdom, things started clicking for me. Maybe I could master this driving thing afterall. I learned of Wild Bill's passing this weekend. R.I.P. Wild Bill.

 

Eat it!

First Anniversary

 

Happy 20th Sweet Feet!!!

"We've come a long, long way together, through the hard times and the good. I have to celebrate you Baby. I have to praise you like I should!"

              Fatboy Slim

 

Freezing

a poem by guest editor, Ben Vanasse

Freezing is water that was turned into ice cubes.

Freezing is warm milk that got wicked cold.

Freezing is vanilla ice cream.

Freezing is a frozen fruit popsicle.

The most freezing thing in the world is a giant ice cream cake with

extra frosting.

photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/stevendepolo/ 

 

 

Playing Sissy Ball

photo courtesy of propagandalf, flickr

It's been awhile since I played soccer, six months to be exact. I have to admit I was feeling a little edgy about it. Not so much because of my wrist. That is what it is. More so about my team and wondering if they would want me back. Also I was thinking about my age and my overall conditioning and ability. I've never been formally trained in the sport and it shows. Gazing in the mirror, I plucked a grey hair gleaming through the brown and told myself to quit being a wimp and get going.

I love the game. It fits a rough and tumbly side of my personality. Still I realized tonight that I also just plain love to run. And maybe in there lies the rub. Mid-game, right after a teammate had a collision with another player and was being carried off the field, I began thinking time had come to take a different approach to the sport. After all, at 44, what do I really have to prove out there. So while I still may go shoulder to shoulder with another player, I plan to protect myself and my body a bit more these days. While I may gut it out to beat my opponent to the ball, politeness to a point will be my style. Because I want to stay healthy. And while I may enjoy soccer for a few more years, I want to run for the rest of my life - God willing.

So its time to go soak my cracked toe nail (fancy pedicures and soccer - they just don't mix) and admit to myself that its a new game for me out there. Sissy Ball here I come!

 

 

 

 

Memorial Day

Gettysburg National Cemetery

Memorial Days began early at Aunt Kay's. Her home at Woodcrest filled with family eating dippy eggs, fried potatoes and onions, sausages, coffee cake and fruit cup. Everyone sporting their latest Red, White, and Blue. Mid morning  found us hurrying home to prepare for the parade. Jean's flower gardens in full bloom providing my mother with ample resources to create a few bouquets. Rows of kids lined up by class in front of the highschool. Pesky boys pelting the back of me and my girlfriends' heads with flower petals as we walked along the parade route. Mrs. Dayhoff and Mr. Miller guiding us curbside halfway through so that we could watch the procession of veterans and high school band leading the way into the National Cemetery. Street chatter giving way to solemn silence as we passed through the tall black iron gates. We spread out quietly in both directions along a long low curve of graves. On cue stepping foward to place what remained of our bouquets on row after row of unknown soldiers. The ones who gave it all, even their names, to preserve the U.S.A. We owe them and all veterans our debt of gratitude on Memorial Day and everyday for the freedoms we cherish.

 

Bust a Move

I haven"t been much into the blogging spirit lately. I could say jennytales is going on hiatus for a long winter's night. But none of us ever really know what our futures hold for certain, do we? Maybe I'll be re-inspired to write sooner rather than later.  Maybe not. For the time being, I've got a bum wrist that makes keyboarding tedious. And so into hibernation I head...until my sun returns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Poem by Guest Editor Carolyn

 

 

 

G-burg

Ben, you are a great brother!

Here are some reasons why:

 

 

Laughing with me when the snowman head came off and we had to start over.

 

For asking to see the video of you I took every time you see me with my phone.

 

For playing “Door Knob” with me (especially because you always forget to say “safety”).

 

For not getting mad at me when I cheat at Monopoly just to make the game go faster.

 

For all those great inside jokes that we have.

 

For not getting mad at me when I help you build Legos and accidentally break them.

 

For making me reach into the bottom of your cup to fish out a really soggy cookie aftermath.

 

For helping me with really hard puzzles even though you are terrible at them and you never find any pieces.

 

For telling me every time you see a dead raccoon on the side of the road so we can have a funeral (even though the raccoon doesn’t know about it).

 

For saying sorry every time I accidentally knock into your abnormally hard head.

 

That is why I love you Benny!

Weighty Woman

http://www.flickr.com/photos/notionscapital/

photo courtesy of Mike Licht

I admire people who are strong. People who lift objects with ease. Someone who moves quickly and works hard and appears to be tireless. My neighbor stands out in my mind as an unusually strong woman. I watch her fearlessly tackle household projects that many men would avoid. Up high on a two story ladder scraping and then painting the outside of her house, mowing her lawn, building a stone walk way in front of her home, moving a bureau twice her size. She is amazing and carries it all off with a feminine flair. She has to be tough living in a household filled with men. I wish I could be more like her. Of course, coordination helps. Sometimes I feel like I'm all thumbs. I would trip on my own shadow if it were possible. I drop things, I bump things, and my senses sometimes fail me. I want to get stronger though. And its time to get serious. A little less thinking about it and talking about it and a lot more action. It will be my New Year's resolution. Not like I want to be a female Atlas. Just a little less flimsy and flamsy and a lot more firm! 

 

QotD: Internet: Back in Time

How have the ways you used the Internet changed over the years? How did you use it ten or fifteen years ago compared to how you use it now?

Sponsored by Yahoo!

 

My first experience on the world wide web stands out very clearly in my mind. Probably because I was one of only a few people to have access to this new "research tool" in a company with 2,300 employees and branch offices in 10 different locations across the city I lived in at the time.  Fortunately, this situation didn't last long as it quickly became apparent that the internet was something that shouldn't be limited to the research department but could benefit everyone. What amazes me more than how I am using it is how my children are using it. Wikis, podcasts, homework assignments involving the internet in virtually all courses, integrating ipods and lesson plans. My kids are fearless about technology and I am glad for it.