Happy Noise

I'm really sensitive to noise, so when I saw that was the topic for Monday's memory, I really had to think about it. About 4:00 this morning, I awoke to the sound of my husband snoring which always puts me in a bad mood, and thought... that's it! That's what I'll write about.

But on second thought, with so much negative happening in my life, I decided I would try to concentrate on the noises that make me happy. Not the sounds though. There's a difference. The sound of a baby laughing? Do a search on youtube, and you'll find lots of happiness there. That sound puts a smile on everyone's face.

I'm thinking "Noise" though. Something that not everyone would relate to, or even think was positive. So, the noise that makes me happy and smile is the noise at a high school or college (especially college) football game. Growing up in the south, this noise is loud and raucous, and sometimes very one sided, but almost always feels joyful. Of course, that noise can be dampened a bit with a loss, but there is always next week or next year, isn't there? It's a feeling that your team will try harder, and do better in the next game, so while there may be disappointment with a loss, there is hope around the corner.

I love that noise!

Hines Ward, this one's for you! Go get 'em tonight on "Dancing with the Stars"! You know, once a dawg, always a dawg!

Blue, So Blue

I'm back from a 9 day trip to Texas, to help my mom deal with my brother "N", and the problems he's been having for the last 6 months. I got back late Sunday, and I've spent yesterday and today trying to "debrief" myself from the drama and trouble that ensued on my vacation. It wasn't pretty, though I did have some highlights on the trip to go along with the lowlights, and do feel like we've done all we can do.

In my debriefing, I saw the Monday Memory meme is "I remember blue...". Perfect. Blue has always been my favorite color, but blue can be so much more. Rhythm and blues, feeling sad, the designated color for the Democrats, feeling calm and quiet, the many colors of blue in the sky. My childhood bedroom was painted blue. My college's colors are blue and red. Both my children and my husband have blue eyes.

The blue I'm remembering today is the midnight blue mustang that was the first car I ever purchased. Still in high school, I had saved up my money, and my parents had offered to pay half. My dad, ever the deal finder, had a friend, who had a friend who was selling his 1966 Mustang. We paid a total of $600 for it. It did need some work, and ultimately, needed so much mechanical work, that somehow we got rid of it, and I bought a brand new shiny red Mustang Turbo. Definitely out with the old.

But oh, I loved that old Mustang. It didn't start out blue. No, it was, to me, a hideous bronze-ish gold color. Besides being a deal finder, my dad also had the equipment necessary to paint a car. I spent the spring and early summer of 1978 sanding and sanding, and sanding some more to rid the car of that gold. It was more quality time with Dad for this daddy's girl. And, ok, quality time with my boyfriend, who seemed impressed that I was willing to work this hard. It was a huge craft project, the kind that men seem to get lost in. And I was not in the least bit embarrassed to drive around with the primer and sanded spots. That was just temporary.

Midnight blue. Close your eyes and you can see the color. Not the black of night, but the stars and moon are out giving the sky a dark blue glow. It's deep and rich, but mostly deep and it goes on forever. That was the color that I wanted my Mustang to be.

The Smell of Camping

This Week's Monday Memory Meme is from the prompt,

"The smell of _______ takes me back to_________."

 

[Monday's memory brought to you on Tuesday, thanks to internet service woes in our area.]

 

I confess that my sense of smell is not all that strong, probably due to a lifelong struggle with allergies, so my "smell memory" is noticeably weak. That said, there is a smell that even now, makes me think of camping and the outdoors. As an avid non-outdoorswoman, I encounter this smell most often now on crisp mornings in my suburban home.

 

But how does camping smell to me? Well, you might think of the campfire, but that element is not there. It is more of a smell/feel sensation. The crisp morning air on a day that will warm up considerably, plus a hint of pine. That's it.

 

And what kind of memories of camping does this non-outdoorswoman have, you might ask? Well, as a kid, we did occasionally camp, and I was a Girl Scout, so I've camped in that kind of setting. My camping experiences were mostly in Texas, and mostly in warm to hot weather as well. These are also mostly happy memories, with the occasional wild story that probably seems par for the course when camping.

 

  That's me and my dad on a camping trip in the early 70s. Groovy belt. Only in hindsight (and therapy) have I totally come to grips with the dysfunction that riddled my family, so I share this as a happy memory. The picture was taken only a couple of years after my dad began drinking, and though I don't believe he was a full blown alcoholic, self-medicating an undiagnosed case of bipolar illness at this time, he most assuredly had had some episodes.

I'll Never Forget the Car Ride...

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[Note: this is my first "Monday Memory" which will be linked over on Life's Twisted Stitches. And you can see the great badge over there in the sidebar.]


So... I'll never forget the car ride when I was in labor with my second child. Whoa! It was actually a series of car rides, so I'll start with the very beginning. OK, not THE beginning, since I'll assume you all know how one ends up in labor. Early-ish on a June morning almost 21 years ago, I woke up feeling "funny." It was 12 days before my due date though, so here comes car ride #1. We only had one car, so every morning I drove hubby John to the subway station, and in spite of that "funny" feeling, I couldn't have been in labor. My first child was 2 weeks late and had to be induced. What really was this labor thing anyway?

Back home again, I decided that perhaps I should at least pack, and of course, pick out a cute dress, which needed ironing. As my 2 year old played, and occasionally asked mommy what was wrong, it became clear that actually I WAS in labor. I called the doctor's office, and they told me to come in and they would check, which brings us to car ride #2.

You know, you can't go to the doctor's office when you are potentially having a baby with a 2 year old in tow, so I drove her to a good friend's house which was only 5 minutes away. I discovered that it is NOT a good idea to drive when you're in labor, so my friend recruited her neighbor to act as chauffeur. This was  a mom that I knew, but not that well. Her only requirement for car ride #3 was that I sit on a towel. Whatever. I gave her directions to the doctor's office, and off we went.

Turns out baby #2 was in a hurry. Are you thinking that I gave birth in the car? Well, no, but that would be a great car ride story. We stopped at the office with instructions to proceed straight to the hospital. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. (Oops, wrong story.) Don't wait for John, who was called at the office, and told to come to the doctor's office. He got a taxi, and luckily, made it just as I was waddling back to Neighbor Woman's car. I had to give her directions to the hospital, and found out later that she thought I was kind of crabby for this fourth car ride of the morning. Well, yeah. She just dropped us off at the emergency room entrance.

About 30 minutes later:

Brian