|I know... It doesn't look like much to the untrained eye. But you should see it through the goggles of hopes, dreams, and sweat equity that we're wearing...|
2. Somewhat on the same subject -- you know, along the lines of us moving around a lot in recent years... One of my siblings (bless 'em!) called us gypsies recently. Gypsies? Harumph! When I think of us, gypsies don't come to mind in the least... Most of us are too fair and freckled, for one thing. But, more on-topic: gypsies prefer not to have a permanent home, while having a permanent home is all I think about. I have binders and folders full of magazine-clipped home decor and color swatches planned out for all the different houses we've owned -- or even thought about being able to own -- for the last twenty years. I have graph paper designs of additions I'd make long before we ever make an offer on a house. I have the gardens penciled in and the fruit trees planted. Even if it rolled, I'd find a way to dig a root cellar and add additions. And there'd be orchards and gardens around my gypsy wagon. And stone walls... And a spring house... And... Hang on a minute while I get my graph paper...
3. I took exception to being called a gypsy; yes, I did. But a sweet girl made me feel better this afternoon, giving me a much more positive subtitle.
We have a dairy near our home where we get our milk and cheese. (GREAT stuff, too, I might add. If you ever come across Rocking W cheese, do get some!) There's the cutest young lady that works there -- probably nineteen or twenty years old, and in the last year we've gotten to be somewhat acquainted. She always gets a kick out of trying to recognize the different kids when they come in with me -- but I've never told her how many we have altogether until today. It just hadn't come up. But, we were in for milk and cream this afternoon (to make ice cream this weekend), and since it was just a couple of us Davises and little Alicia whom we occasionally babysit, she had a short count. She didn't know Alicia, of course, but I reminded her that she'd met Cathy before. "She's child number six," I told her.
At that, the sweet young lady's eyebrows shot up and she exclaimed, "SIX! Wow!" she said, "You sure hold it together well for having six kids! My Mom has five and she's crazy."
Now, I don't know whether she meant her mom is crazy because she decided to have five children, or whether the five children drove her crazy and I thought about asking her, but decided instead to have some fun -- and told her how many kids we have. Then I waited for the reaction. She was speechless for a moment. There was no telling how she'd reply to that little bomb. You never know, ya know. Even the nicest, most diplomatic, supportive, and tolerant folks out there have a hard time knowing what to say sometimes. And I really do understand; it's out of the ordinary for most folks to hear the number "ten" in the same sentence with "children in our family".... But, of all the responses I've ever gotten, I like our little milk maid's the best. With a big bright smile, she said, "Ten! YOU are a force to be reckoned with!"
Haha! Gotta love that!
(I guess, all things considered, I really am! Or, anyway, WE are. By sheer strength of numbers if nothing else!)
4. The Reader's Digest rocks. After almost twenty-five years of subscribing, I still look forward to its arrival in the mail every month, regular as the change of the calendar page. We got our first edition as an unexpected, but welcome wedding gift from my Dad, and somewhere along the way (I really don't even know when) picked up the tab, ourselves. But The Reader's Digest has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. One of my fondest memories of childhood is my NC grandfather, sitting at the kitchen table as my grandmother cooked dinner, reading to her from its pages. In college, I had the audacity to use a RD short story to dissect for an English class. The professor thought it was beneath her and cautioned me to look for more esteemed publications in the future. Puh-lease. Can you believe that? Who cares about high-falutin' and esteemed? The Reader's Digest gets read!
5. Which leads me to ths: In the RD this month, I found a link to a fascinating, thought-provoking photographic blog called TheBurningHouse. The question asked is this: If your house was burning, what would you take with you? It's a conflict between what's practical, valuable and sentimental. What you would take reflects your interests, background and priorities. Think of it as an interview condensed into one question.
(Does she look sad to you?)
* For More Quick Takes from All Over, run over to Jennifer's at Conversion Diary...