The scariest 30 feet...

My little 2 1/2 year old is getting so big. Talking up a storm, learning new things every day, makes me think it won't be long before she's out the door for kindergarten, grade school, high school, prom, college, moving out... and I can't even fathom right now sticking her on a bus in a few years and saying "see you at three"... makes me queasy just thinking about it.

So my siblings and I use to live right around the corner from our grade school. We were labeled "walkers" (aka nerds) and the closest we ever got to the inside of the school bus was the occasional field trip. Looking back now we were probably the lucky ones, living so close to home, not having to deal with any extra bully troubles, but at the time we thought we were somehow getting jipped out of something fun. The one plus side to the deal was that we did get giant whiffs of the diesel fumes as the buses zoomed by our house, which I have to admit I still rather like to this day.

Now my sister and I use to walk home together, and from the corner of the school's cyclone fence to the closest corner of my parents yard was literally like 20-30 feet. This mind you was in a quiet little peaceful neighborhood where nothing scary ever really happened. We however thought this the most terrifying stretch of road anywhere in the continental United States. We had been warned as most kids to not talk to strangers, and forced to watch a couple of cheesy after school specials about stranger safety... but with a dad that liked to spook us all the time and caused great panic just for fun made our active little imaginations believe that any car, bike, mail truck, ice cream truck, and especially "rapist vans" were out to get us. (You know, rapist vans, the kind that have no windows or doors except maybe the back that look all beat up - you better run like crazy if you see one of them).

So we would start at the corner gate and would first look in every direction for cars. Then we would book it as fast as our little legs would carry us (in complete terror mind you) to our parents yard, through the tree line, over the bark, leap over the shrubs, to the safety of the front door. This was a daily ritual, I'm sad to report.

It makes my husband laugh so hard now when I tell him of our running, since he's seen the shortness of that stretch of road and it's literally a stone's throw away. Now at first today when I was thinking of how scary it would be to put my future little 5-year-old on a bus and wave goodbye... Now I'm thinking hey maybe it's a very good thing she's not going to be a "walker"

That's gotta be SOME Bee!

So I found this sign over at my new favorite website, www.engrish.com and I guffawed out loud. You see, I'm terrified of bees. Am I allergic? No. Almost wish I was though cause then I'd have an excuse for running and screaming across the room. Perhaps it stems from the fact that my practical joke father use to kill bugs and then chase us down the hall with them smashed in a paper towel. After a while he'd just have to crumple up a paper towel and chase us with that, no bugs in sight. Well this reminded me of a couple funny bee related stories.

Let's see, well I once heard my ultra conservative and sweet mother utter her first swear word in my presence due to a bee. We had been picnicking at a park full of yellow jackets when one had apparently dug it's way into the sexy orange tweed car seat cover in our butterscotch van with the large side pipes. As we were driving out of the park it stung her on the behind and she said a word starting with SH** and swerved all over the road. Us kids were shocked and awed that day.

Another time on one of our famous family camping trips, my sister and I were sitting quietly in the first row of seats, listening to Olivia Newton John on the 8-track when all of the sudden (in the days before AC and the windows were all open) a monster of a huge bee (it was very large, and orange and black, though no one believes me now) flew in the front window and right between us. Simultaneously and with the grace of synchronized swimmers, we both threw our heads towards the middle of the car and screamed, both hitting each others head with such force that we almost knocked ourselves unconscious. We get mocked to this day over that story.

Just recently my hubby of 5 years got to see some bee fear in action. He really didn't know of my phobia and we were all getting into the car. About 2 feet in front of us was a little creek running though some property. We all get buckled in when I hear a buzzing down by my door. I look just in time to see a yellow jacket stuck inside the car. I flip out and start screaming, I threw my head into my husbands lap, lay sideways in my seat, and tried to kick open the door and unbuckle my seat belt at the same time. He had no IDEA what was happening and almost drove our car into the creek. 

Finally I get untangled, open the door, and start running. The bee flew out and I get back into the car. His adrenaline was pumping, I had freaked him out and he was now MAD. The step kids in the back seat were mad. As we pulled down this long driveway it was deathly silent and I could feel glares at the back of my head like heat rays. Suddenly the madness wore off and almost at the same time everyone burst out laughing. I felt totally stupid... but sheepishly told them of my irrational fear of bees. Anyway, so when I saw this sign I started to worry what kind of BEE would need a sign like that?! Makes ya wonder. I'm staying clear of Japan just in case.

Hottub Bedlam

OK, so I have this great sister. She is an amazing, funny, wonderful person, a caring mother of three, and a women's bible study leader. Of course we've had our share of sisterly spats over the years but our friendship has always remained very strong (insert the song "Sisters, sisters - there were never such devoted sisters" from the movie White Christmas here). I can't help but remember the one time though that this thoughtful, inspirational woman once left me for dead in our hot tub.

We were out in the back yard one summer night hanging out in the hot tub, chatting away and having a grand old time. What we didn't know was that our dad was about to put some trash in the metal garbage cans on the side of our house. All we heard was the garbage can's rustling with a definite "clang" as the lid slammed down and immediately we thought "rapists" were about to attack us. Now I realize that a normal person would probably just think, hey, someone must be taking out the trash. We were not normal.  We were the kind of kids that used to run home from school at top speed (we lived less than a block away) if we saw a van heading for us in the off chance we might be abducted. After the shower curtains and harks we were a little punchy to say the least.

So back to the clanging garbage lids. We look at each other in a wide-eyed panic and then my sister springs into amazing action. In one quick motion she literally DIVES head first out of the hot tub, lands on the cement on her head and arms, clamors and crawls up the wooden deck steps (ripping her legs and hands to shreds in the process) runs across the deck, throws open the sliding glass door, runs into the house, closes the door, LOCKS it, and SHUTS the curtains. My guess is she kept running all the way to her room, not looking back for a second. 

Where was I, you ask? Well in that old "flight or fight" response I guess I choose... freeze. All I can remember is sinking down low in the hot tub, till just my eyes and nose were above the water, waiting for whatever it was to just come and get me. With the door locked and curtains closed, I really didn't have many options anyway. It was dark and still for a long time... then, to my relief, the curtains opened up, the door was unlocked, and my mom appeared in the porch light laughing. She had been startled by my sister's panicked run through the kitchen and my confused dad had just returned from taking out the trash wondering what all the hubbub was about. They just stood on the porch and laughed hysterically at us. 

My sister sheepishly appeared moments later, bleeding in a few places and pretty banged up. I finally found my courage to climb out of the hot tub, now that the threat of an immediate attack was over.

Beware of Harks!!

So we did a lot of family bonding road trips in my youth. I have ton of fun memories camping and going on day trip adventures around Washington. Of course, some road trips were more adventurous than others. Heck, even trips down the hill and through the valley to church could take on an other worldly spin if you had a good enough imagination.

Luckily for us, my dad was a never ending spring of imagination, however warped. Whenever we would drive over a bridge, whether it was one that could open up to let boats through, or something very large like the Narrows Bridge in Tacoma, he would always pretend we were running out of gas and the bridge was opening. He would unevenly tap on the gas to give the illusion we would have to stop any second. As a child you would envision the bridge opening up fully and your van out of gas sliding off into the murky water below. But that wasn't even the really scary part of our trip to church.

We lived on a hill and had to go through the valley to get where we were going. It was always foggy in the early mornings and many people would drive with only their fog lights on. Dad decided to tell us that those yellow lights were not merely cars, but glowing EYES that belonged to the legendary creature known as "THE HARK". Yes the terrible Hark that was half horse, half shark - or rather a very large shark head (with lots of teeth) on a horses' body. It could run faster than a train and traveled the valley looking for broken down cars (and especially children) to eat. Needless to say that our trips to church were never dull or boring - matter of fact I think it enhanced our spiritual life, as we spent most of the time praying our car wouldn't run out of gas on the bridge.

Always check the shower curtain...

OK, so I've decided to devote the month of May to sharing a little bit of my wacky, sometimes frightening childhood with you. You see I have this father who is a huge piratical joker. He lives for scaring the bejesus out of you and making people freak out. Might I add I'm a grown woman now, but to this DAY am leery of walking down the hallway at my folk's house if I don't know where he happens to be...

One of his favorite things when we were growing up was to hide behind closed shower curtains. You go to the bathroom and get all comfy and situated (yes, he'd wait until you were "in process") then he'd throw back the shower curtain with a gleeful roar and scare the literal crap out of you. Ah good times.

I can't tell you what kind of lasting effect this had on all of us, because my entire life, even if I'm at somebody else's house, I will ALWAYS look behind the shower curtain before using the bathroom. Heck I was 1,850 miles away at college and STILL found myself checking behind curtains just to make sure he wasn't back there. He not only like to hide in the shower, but also just to stand in the darkened doorway of the bathroom with the hall lights off and wait for one of us unsuspecting kids to come down the hall and walk INTO him. Quite frightening. Sometimes he was just his plain self, other times he used "the mask". 

I must tell you about the "mask" in it's own blog, because it was a big part of my childhood but it definitely needs it's own space of reflection. Anyway, now I'm grown up and live in my own house and I have an opaque glass shower door, which is perfect because you can not only always see IN to it but OUT of it as well. Very important.

Michael Landon Jr. - He ain't no Pa.

See this guy? Do you know who he is? Well he's Michael Landon Jr., and all I can say about him is that he ain't no Pa Ingalls. Why oh why do I detest him so? Well although he followed in his father's footsteps and started work behind a camera, he sure took this idea of "creative license" to a whole new level. A LOW level, I might add. Now while ML Sr. did veer off the original books by Laura Ingalls Wilder in order to keep the TV show going for all those years, his son ML Jr. had to go and RUIN the my absolute favorite Christian pioneer book series by "trying" to make them into TV movies.

The series in question is the "Love Comes Softly" series by Janette Oke... the amazing story of Marty, a pioneer woman who at the age of 17, finds out her new husband of 3 months is killed while they are on a wagon train west and is left abandoned and alone near a small town on the prairie. That same day a man from the town approaches her and asks her to marry him, a marriage of convenience, in order for her to take care of his little 2-year-old girl Missie who doesn't have a mother. If at the end of the harvest she wants to return east, he will pay for her passage home, but she must take his little girl with her. Oh did I mention she's 3 months pregnant? Anyway, the book series follows Marty's entire life and how her situation turns out. I HIGHLY recommend reading them.

So this Michael Landon Jr. character comes along and decides to make this a TV movie. BRILLIANT I think at first. Now everyone can see this wonderful story evolve on film. So my step teen (a huge fan of the series) and I wait with great anticipation at the first airing of this show. The story starts out right on target. Things are progressing smoothly... then, something odd happens. Although the people have the same names and roles as in the book, they start veering from the story line. poignant and touching stories are changed and "slicked" over in the most annoying Hollywood fashion, to the point where by the end of the story, everything is MUCH different than the book. The way the book tells the story is very realistic, and it would of been no problem to relay it to film, but somehow ML Jr. decided to opt for the trite and predictable changes that make the whole movie not even worth watching! Matter of fact the second TV movie in this same series is so far off the story due to all the unnecessary changes that the only thing that remains is the name of the characters.

I realize that no movie can really be just like the book, some things need to be taken out because of time, or whatever, but to completely change what was already a good story, baffles me. So I guess this is another reason for people to get back to reading. Oh and here's a tip for all you would-be producers out there. If you're going to make a TV movie about an amazing book, you might want to try reading it all the way through before you start filming.

Growing up with the Prairie

So take a good look at Pa Ingalls. Dreamy, ain't he? Good ol' Michael Landon. He's got those long flowing locks, a twinkle in his eye, and boy can he saw large planks of wood into smaller ones at the mill (ever notice that's all he did there?) like nobody's business. 

We weren't really allowed to watch much TV growing up, but nary a day passed that we all didn't sit down and catch the loving family antics of Laura, Ma, Pa, and the whole Ingalls gang. Where we truly believed that Ms. Beadle was the nicest teacher around, that Nellie and Willie were pure evil, and that Mrs. Olsen sure was a major bitty. We just couldn't seem to get enough of that quality family programming with the feel good thought provoking endings. I don't think a single episode of LHOTP went by without Pa shedding a tear or playing his fiddle, or Laura wearing that red gingham dress.

This of course led to my current uncanny ability to actually know which exact episode is airing at any moment, based on watching only the first 15 seconds of the show. I'll be like, "Oh this is the one where Nellie pretends to be crippled", or "Oh this is the one where the wild dogs attack the kids while Ma and Pa are away". My sister and I use to pass the time on long car trips trying to quiz each other on random LHOTP trivia. Like how did Ma show she was irritated in bed? (Eat popcorn angrily), or why did the girls have such nice blue dresses for church (Ma was suppose to make a dress for herself but selflessly ended up making the dresses for the girls instead), or why did Laura sell her horse Bunny? (To buy a new stove for Ma for Christmas). So go ahead, throw your hardest LHOTP trivia at me, just see if you can stump me. If you too are a Little House fanatic, trying stumping your friends, it's FUN. 

Oh, and a few holidays back, my football playing, stud of younger brother who would probably never admit to watching LHOTP as a kid shocked us all when we gathered around to play one of the quizzes on the newly released DVD's (yes of course I own them). To our amazement he got every single answer right. He sheepishly shrugged but we all knew that he too had grown up on the prairie, even if it was involuntary.

Glad I'm not one of dem "smart" kids

So there are book smarts, and street smarts - but the question is, which is better? Back in junior high we had this program for "gifted" students called QUEST. Most of the kids in there were major nerds or pseudo-intellectual snobs. One of my good friends happened to be lumped in with this snooty group and luckily for us she became our spy - and so it is to her we must thank for this story.

They were all taking a trip to the ocean (west coast) for a group problem solving weekend, with games and obstacle courses. The first night there they all went down to the beach for a BBQ and campfire. They watched the sun set and roasted marshmallows, then went back to their hotel for the night. They decided to get up very early the next morning to maybe catch a glimpse of the sunrise. So down they all trot to the beach with their blankets and beach towels (with their adult teachers) and sit to watch the sunrise over the ocean. Well it keeps getting lighter and lighter out and still no sun. Finally one of them turns around and sees the sun rising over Mt. Rainier... in the EAST. That's right folks, they were sitting on the SAME beach (facing west) where they had seen the sun vanish only 12 hours before, and they were waiting to see it come back up over the same skyline.

I would of paid BIG money to see the looks on their dumbfounded faces when they realized their blunder. How must those teachers have felt? Apparently they all swore an immediate oath never to reveal this story to anyone back at school. I just have to thank my good friend for spilling the beans to me shortly after, because for once, it felt really GOOD not being considered one of them "smart" kids.