My First (and only) Bustin'
Every house has certain rules. Most parents would agree that playing serious ball in the house is against the rules. We throw the football to Braden all the time in our house- a Nerf football! However, when I was probably 10 or so, we had a real soccer game going on in my parent's bedroom. Nothing good can come out of that, so I have no idea what we were thinking.
The actual incident was truly not me or my brother, Richard. One of the neighbor boys kicked the ball straight into the chandelier (not that it was a fancy one or anything), and it shattered everywhere. Neighbor kids scattered like little ants, and me and my brother were left to attempt a quick clean-up. The two of us took the heat and got the belt that night. OUCH! I made sure that didn't happen again!
Looking back, poor Rich took the blame for several mischievous acts. Once we threw pebbles from our driveway at a car that was driving by. Another time, we threw rocks (bigger than pebbles) at the windows of what we thought was an unoccupied house close to where we lived. Big oops! There's more but I better stop in case we haven't reached the statute of limitations on some of our offenses!
Showing posts with label memory bank. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memory bank. Show all posts
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Wednesday, February 09, 2011
Memory_6
The Dirt Slide
We moved to Texas from Montana when I was 4 1/2 years old. For the first several years we were here, we would drive back up to MT and stay for a couple of weeks each summer. I was infamously car-sick on these trips, but that is not the subject of this post!
Both sets of grandparents had big ranches. We would stay with my maternal grandparents, whose ranch was located in the very southeastern corner of Montana. We would climb up into this mountain up behind the horse barns and build forts. One summer, our cousins were so excited to show us the new form of fun up on the mountain: they had made a dirt slide going down the mountain! I remember getting so tired climbing up, resting for just a minute, taking a deep breath, then bumping and sliding down to the bottom!
This is the first time I recall feeling butterflies in my stomach. On the first time down the slide, there was a slight hesitation after watching the person in front of you go down pretty fast. Not to mention the grade of the hill looking much steeper when you're about to take off! Does anyone remember the Der Stuka slide at Wet 'n Wild? Same kind of feeling in your tummy: fear plus excitement mixed together!
Of course, the Der Stuka was wet and clean and supervised. I also remember that when we would come back from doing the dirt slide all the moms would make us empty the dirt from our boots and clothing before we came near the house! Being a mom now, I figure they dreaded the laundry after a day at the dirt slide!
We moved to Texas from Montana when I was 4 1/2 years old. For the first several years we were here, we would drive back up to MT and stay for a couple of weeks each summer. I was infamously car-sick on these trips, but that is not the subject of this post!
Both sets of grandparents had big ranches. We would stay with my maternal grandparents, whose ranch was located in the very southeastern corner of Montana. We would climb up into this mountain up behind the horse barns and build forts. One summer, our cousins were so excited to show us the new form of fun up on the mountain: they had made a dirt slide going down the mountain! I remember getting so tired climbing up, resting for just a minute, taking a deep breath, then bumping and sliding down to the bottom!
This is the first time I recall feeling butterflies in my stomach. On the first time down the slide, there was a slight hesitation after watching the person in front of you go down pretty fast. Not to mention the grade of the hill looking much steeper when you're about to take off! Does anyone remember the Der Stuka slide at Wet 'n Wild? Same kind of feeling in your tummy: fear plus excitement mixed together!
Of course, the Der Stuka was wet and clean and supervised. I also remember that when we would come back from doing the dirt slide all the moms would make us empty the dirt from our boots and clothing before we came near the house! Being a mom now, I figure they dreaded the laundry after a day at the dirt slide!
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Memory_4
Pinehurst with Papa
I'm so bad about remembering years and specific details, but I'm thinking this takes place in the summer of 1995. That would have been after I had completed my freshman year at A&M. As a member of the golf team, I was expected to keep up my game during the summers by competing in tournaments. For the most part, I picked tournaments that were within driving distance. However, there was a tournament called The East/West that was being held at Pinehurst Golf Club in North Carolina. Pinehurst has to be on an avid golfer's 'Top-Ten List' of courses to play in a lifetime. The course is rich in history, beautiful to the eye, and uber-challenging to the short game.
The East/West was different from collegiate tournaments in several ways. First of all, we were allowed to use a caddy. Also, the format was stroke play followed by match play. Quick lesson: Stroke play is conventional golf scoring, where you hear people say what number they shot- like a 78 on a par 72. Match play is one player versus their opponent. You win the hole, you get a point. I win the hole, I get a point. We tie the hole, we each get a half of a point. Whoever has the most points after 18 holes wins. If its tied, go back to hole number one and play until someone wins a hole. Being a fierce competitor, I LOVED match play. If you put me up against someone and challenge me to beat them, I'm all over that!
Back to the caddy part. My dad eagerly volunteered to come with me to NC to be my caddy for this tournament. Now, did he want to be with me, or did he just want to get in a round at Pinehurst? You guessed it- both!! I'll never forget him buying these retro Nike tennis shoes to be my caddy- like the ones Forrest Gump wore! I'm not a fashion Nazi, but he cracked me up in these shoes!
Stroke play didn't go so well, but I did well enough to make the cut. That means I got to advance to match play. It's seeded like you would expect: if there's 32 in the field, #1 goes against #32, #2 against #31, #3 against #30, etc. In my most humble assessment, I rocked out match play. I don't remember those exact details, but I think I lost out in the quarterfinals. I lost to the NCAA runner-up on the 19th hole --Kelly McCall, and she was a Tar Heel!
My parents both gave me incredible support during all of my golfing years. I'm pretty sure my mom kept score at every tournament I played since I was 8 years old, and she kept scorecards and newspaper clippings for a scrapbook! One or the other of them was present at every tournament I ever played until I got to college. They actually made it to a lot of those too, which were frequently out of state. I have a ton of memories about golf, but this one about going to Pinehurst with my dad is vivid in my mind and makes me smile! By the way, Dad did get to play Pinehurst, too!
I'm so bad about remembering years and specific details, but I'm thinking this takes place in the summer of 1995. That would have been after I had completed my freshman year at A&M. As a member of the golf team, I was expected to keep up my game during the summers by competing in tournaments. For the most part, I picked tournaments that were within driving distance. However, there was a tournament called The East/West that was being held at Pinehurst Golf Club in North Carolina. Pinehurst has to be on an avid golfer's 'Top-Ten List' of courses to play in a lifetime. The course is rich in history, beautiful to the eye, and uber-challenging to the short game.
The East/West was different from collegiate tournaments in several ways. First of all, we were allowed to use a caddy. Also, the format was stroke play followed by match play. Quick lesson: Stroke play is conventional golf scoring, where you hear people say what number they shot- like a 78 on a par 72. Match play is one player versus their opponent. You win the hole, you get a point. I win the hole, I get a point. We tie the hole, we each get a half of a point. Whoever has the most points after 18 holes wins. If its tied, go back to hole number one and play until someone wins a hole. Being a fierce competitor, I LOVED match play. If you put me up against someone and challenge me to beat them, I'm all over that!
Back to the caddy part. My dad eagerly volunteered to come with me to NC to be my caddy for this tournament. Now, did he want to be with me, or did he just want to get in a round at Pinehurst? You guessed it- both!! I'll never forget him buying these retro Nike tennis shoes to be my caddy- like the ones Forrest Gump wore! I'm not a fashion Nazi, but he cracked me up in these shoes!
Stroke play didn't go so well, but I did well enough to make the cut. That means I got to advance to match play. It's seeded like you would expect: if there's 32 in the field, #1 goes against #32, #2 against #31, #3 against #30, etc. In my most humble assessment, I rocked out match play. I don't remember those exact details, but I think I lost out in the quarterfinals. I lost to the NCAA runner-up on the 19th hole --Kelly McCall, and she was a Tar Heel!
My parents both gave me incredible support during all of my golfing years. I'm pretty sure my mom kept score at every tournament I played since I was 8 years old, and she kept scorecards and newspaper clippings for a scrapbook! One or the other of them was present at every tournament I ever played until I got to college. They actually made it to a lot of those too, which were frequently out of state. I have a ton of memories about golf, but this one about going to Pinehurst with my dad is vivid in my mind and makes me smile! By the way, Dad did get to play Pinehurst, too!
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Memory_3
The Green Tooth
If you get close enough to my sweet little smile, you might notice "the green tooth." It's really not the tooth itself that is green, but that is what we say around here.
Growing up in Stephenville, TX, in the 80's was quite a sheltered experience. Those were different times, for example leaving your kids home alone was not given a second thought. This might be the first of many stories of what can happen when you leave your kids home alone!
I was quite the obedient child, and for the most part a strict rule-follower. We were always told to walk our bikes across the street instead of riding them across. I'm still not sure why this was the rule, but I was the obedient child who did what she was told. My brother and I would often ride our bikes into town, and we would spend a good part of the day riding around all over the streets of Stephenville. Honestly, I don't remember how old we were at the time, but I know I was not in junior high yet!
Sidenote: We lived about 2 miles from the city limits, but at least 3 miles from a desirable stop such as a convenience store or city park! Not to mention the fact that we had to ride on the shoulder of Hwy 67, then cross 377 to get into town. Yes, these are US highways, not county roads!
On one of these said trips, I was running my bike across Hwy 281 when the front tire bounced off the median and sprung the handlebars straight up to my mouth. I knew right away that it hurt, but I just kept running across the road. When I got to the other side, I realized I was bleeding. I'll never forget the feeling of my tongue rubbing against my newly shattered tooth. It felt like I had knives or nails hanging down from my gums in place of a tooth.
We realized the tooth was not salvageable after several trips to the dentist. I have an implant that matches the others quite nicely. The problem is with the post that goes up into my gum. I guess it's like a gray metal of some sort, but the appearance when implanted into my natural pink gum is a dingy green. This problem has recently been compounded by my teeth somehow separating slightly. There is the tiniest gap between the fake tooth and my canine, and it constantly looks like I've got black pepper between my teeth! I should probably see about a dentist helping me out with this problem because I think I'm getting a complex just by posting about it!
Take-home lesson: Look both ways before crossing the road, then just ride across like a big-girl!
If you get close enough to my sweet little smile, you might notice "the green tooth." It's really not the tooth itself that is green, but that is what we say around here.
Growing up in Stephenville, TX, in the 80's was quite a sheltered experience. Those were different times, for example leaving your kids home alone was not given a second thought. This might be the first of many stories of what can happen when you leave your kids home alone!
I was quite the obedient child, and for the most part a strict rule-follower. We were always told to walk our bikes across the street instead of riding them across. I'm still not sure why this was the rule, but I was the obedient child who did what she was told. My brother and I would often ride our bikes into town, and we would spend a good part of the day riding around all over the streets of Stephenville. Honestly, I don't remember how old we were at the time, but I know I was not in junior high yet!
Sidenote: We lived about 2 miles from the city limits, but at least 3 miles from a desirable stop such as a convenience store or city park! Not to mention the fact that we had to ride on the shoulder of Hwy 67, then cross 377 to get into town. Yes, these are US highways, not county roads!
On one of these said trips, I was running my bike across Hwy 281 when the front tire bounced off the median and sprung the handlebars straight up to my mouth. I knew right away that it hurt, but I just kept running across the road. When I got to the other side, I realized I was bleeding. I'll never forget the feeling of my tongue rubbing against my newly shattered tooth. It felt like I had knives or nails hanging down from my gums in place of a tooth.
We realized the tooth was not salvageable after several trips to the dentist. I have an implant that matches the others quite nicely. The problem is with the post that goes up into my gum. I guess it's like a gray metal of some sort, but the appearance when implanted into my natural pink gum is a dingy green. This problem has recently been compounded by my teeth somehow separating slightly. There is the tiniest gap between the fake tooth and my canine, and it constantly looks like I've got black pepper between my teeth! I should probably see about a dentist helping me out with this problem because I think I'm getting a complex just by posting about it!
Take-home lesson: Look both ways before crossing the road, then just ride across like a big-girl!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Memory_2
To Our Kids: How I Met Your Father
1996 was destined to be a good year for me. I ended 1995 with a break-up from a boyfriend that was bad news for too long. This was probably the 5th break-up we'd had in the past 3 years, but I knew this was the end of our relationship... for real! I started going to a weekly bible study (ABS) at the beginning of the semester, and I was meeting really nice, genuine people. More importantly, I had re-committed my life to Christ- something that had weighed on me for quite some time before that. A friend from high school, Misti, also attended this bible study so I felt very comfortable hanging out with everyone around ABS.
Misti was kind-of, sort-of starting to date this guy from the ABS group named Jeremy. I tagged along with them plenty because they were not officially dating (so I wasn't too much of a 3rd wheel). Jeremy was telling me he had a friend he wanted to set me up with. Misti started joining in the matchmaking as well. I repeatedly blew them off and told them I wasn't interested! I really had no desire to start a relationship with a guy!
For those of you who know this Jeremy character, you know he is pretty persistent when he thinks he has a good idea! He showed up at the golf course during the middle of one my golf tournaments at A&M. I'll never forget Jason and Jeremy walking up to #7 green, and I'm thinking, "Oh, no he didn't! He brought the mystery guy to the golf tournament!"
Maybe I lost my focus a little. Perhaps "not interested" was no longer my opinion. Whatever it was, I yanked my drive out-of-bounds on #9. Like, way out-of-bounds... into the driving range!
Jason and I hung out the next day at Jeremy's apartment. He talks about how I just got up and left without saying good-bye to anyone. He was sure he'd made me mad or something! I don't even remember doing that. He called me and asked me out that night from Jeremy's apartment bathroom because he didn't want everyone listening to our conversation! (We didn't have cell phones that gave you the freedom of going anywhere you wanted to talk on the phone.) This all seems hilarious to me now!
Our first date was dinner at Cafe Eccell followed by Breakaway- a huge bible study/worship event in College Station. That was all she wrote, folks! I fell hard, and I fell fast. I was afraid to tell him I loved him because I didn't know if I was feeling that too early or if he even felt the same way. We dated for 8 months, then we were engaged for 8 months. This year we will celebrate our 14-year anniversary, and I can honestly say that our marriage has been pure bliss!
Thank you Jeremy and Misti for the idea, it was a good one after all! In case you don't already know, Jeremy and Misti live happily ever after as well- they got married the same year!
1996 was destined to be a good year for me. I ended 1995 with a break-up from a boyfriend that was bad news for too long. This was probably the 5th break-up we'd had in the past 3 years, but I knew this was the end of our relationship... for real! I started going to a weekly bible study (ABS) at the beginning of the semester, and I was meeting really nice, genuine people. More importantly, I had re-committed my life to Christ- something that had weighed on me for quite some time before that. A friend from high school, Misti, also attended this bible study so I felt very comfortable hanging out with everyone around ABS.
Misti was kind-of, sort-of starting to date this guy from the ABS group named Jeremy. I tagged along with them plenty because they were not officially dating (so I wasn't too much of a 3rd wheel). Jeremy was telling me he had a friend he wanted to set me up with. Misti started joining in the matchmaking as well. I repeatedly blew them off and told them I wasn't interested! I really had no desire to start a relationship with a guy!
For those of you who know this Jeremy character, you know he is pretty persistent when he thinks he has a good idea! He showed up at the golf course during the middle of one my golf tournaments at A&M. I'll never forget Jason and Jeremy walking up to #7 green, and I'm thinking, "Oh, no he didn't! He brought the mystery guy to the golf tournament!"
Maybe I lost my focus a little. Perhaps "not interested" was no longer my opinion. Whatever it was, I yanked my drive out-of-bounds on #9. Like, way out-of-bounds... into the driving range!
Jason and I hung out the next day at Jeremy's apartment. He talks about how I just got up and left without saying good-bye to anyone. He was sure he'd made me mad or something! I don't even remember doing that. He called me and asked me out that night from Jeremy's apartment bathroom because he didn't want everyone listening to our conversation! (We didn't have cell phones that gave you the freedom of going anywhere you wanted to talk on the phone.) This all seems hilarious to me now!
Our first date was dinner at Cafe Eccell followed by Breakaway- a huge bible study/worship event in College Station. That was all she wrote, folks! I fell hard, and I fell fast. I was afraid to tell him I loved him because I didn't know if I was feeling that too early or if he even felt the same way. We dated for 8 months, then we were engaged for 8 months. This year we will celebrate our 14-year anniversary, and I can honestly say that our marriage has been pure bliss!
Thank you Jeremy and Misti for the idea, it was a good one after all! In case you don't already know, Jeremy and Misti live happily ever after as well- they got married the same year!
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Memory Bank
This is the beginning of a new blog series: totally random memories from my life. Maybe childhood, maybe adulthood, maybe focused around me or not. The idea is to preserve some memories that my kids can read and smile about someday! I will emphasize that there is no order to these, just random thoughts that pop into my head...
When I was in junior high, I had two friends over to my house. My parents were not home, and we were bored to tears. I lived out in the country and there was just not a lot to do out there. For some reason, we thought it would be a good idea to experiment with matches. In our back pasture was an old, very small building that at one time housed feed for our sheep. My brother and I had converted it to a clubhouse/fort since we had long ago rid ourselves of the sheep! My two friends and I found some old Cabbage Patch dolls in the clubhouse, and here began the experimentation with fire.
Now, this building did not have a door, but we had hung a towel in the doorway as somewhat of a curtain. Somehow, one of the Cabbage Patch Kids that we lit on fire came in contact with the towel. Then, the towel made contact with the grass of the pasture. My friends later joked with me that I yelled, "Cabbage! Fire!" We were in way over our heads, and I could already imagine the entire property engulfed in flames! Life went into slow motion and I was imagining the punishment that would come down if I caught the place on fire. One of us ripped the towel down, and we all put the fire out before things got out of hand. Whew!
Talk about an adrenaline rush! I think I was sick at my stomach for days although I would not have admitted that to my friends. I found reasons to not let anyone go down to the little clubhouse until the evidence of a fire was gone. You can imagine that it was not near as bad as I first thought and magnified in my adolescent mind! We just joked and laughed it away, but I was scared enough to learn my lesson about playing with fire!
When I was in junior high, I had two friends over to my house. My parents were not home, and we were bored to tears. I lived out in the country and there was just not a lot to do out there. For some reason, we thought it would be a good idea to experiment with matches. In our back pasture was an old, very small building that at one time housed feed for our sheep. My brother and I had converted it to a clubhouse/fort since we had long ago rid ourselves of the sheep! My two friends and I found some old Cabbage Patch dolls in the clubhouse, and here began the experimentation with fire.
Now, this building did not have a door, but we had hung a towel in the doorway as somewhat of a curtain. Somehow, one of the Cabbage Patch Kids that we lit on fire came in contact with the towel. Then, the towel made contact with the grass of the pasture. My friends later joked with me that I yelled, "Cabbage! Fire!" We were in way over our heads, and I could already imagine the entire property engulfed in flames! Life went into slow motion and I was imagining the punishment that would come down if I caught the place on fire. One of us ripped the towel down, and we all put the fire out before things got out of hand. Whew!
Talk about an adrenaline rush! I think I was sick at my stomach for days although I would not have admitted that to my friends. I found reasons to not let anyone go down to the little clubhouse until the evidence of a fire was gone. You can imagine that it was not near as bad as I first thought and magnified in my adolescent mind! We just joked and laughed it away, but I was scared enough to learn my lesson about playing with fire!
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