First Kiss

August 07, 1994.

Exactly-to the day-14 years ago.

The air conditioning in my pickup was broke and it was smoldering hot.

I had stayed the weekend in Indianapolis with my friend Jane oblivious to the fact that the Brickyard was witnessing it's largest crowd of NASCAR fans ever. Still today, there isn't a race that has had as many fans in attendance as the first Brickyard 400. Now the Allstate 400 because somebody has to pay to change the name of things near and dear to people like me. Just like Wrigley Field will always be Wrigley Field to me no matter who throws their money at it. Oh. Sorry. My'bad.

I don't follow NASCAR. I know some drivers. I'm friends with a mother and daughter who own a team. But I'm not a fanatic. (Waving to the die-hards, I know you're out there!) I know #3 and I get teary-eyed thinking of him and Dale Jr. and the whole story surrounding them. I'm not a Jeff Gordon fan (sorry) and I go to my brother's Daytona party and get in the pot to pick the winning driver every year. I could be a NASCAR fan. I really could.

I didn't know it was the Brickyard 400 weekend in 1994.

I'm SO glad I didn't know.

Afternoon. Sunday, August 7, 1994.

Exactly 14 years ago, Jane I and decided to drive home in my pickup with no air conditioning--but a working CB radio.

I've had CB radio's since I was a little girl listening to Teddy Bear on the radio and playing with my daddy's set up in the living room. Oh hell, I still cry when I listen to Teddy Bear. I'm listening to it now. Excuse me for a minute.



Then there's my own Convoy story complete with C.W. Macall singing one of my favorite songs. And Alabama singing Roll 'On. I cry when I hear that one too. Excuse me again I have to listen to that now.

When my fourth grade teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I told her "the first female truck driver."

"Wouldn't you rather be the first female president? You can be anything you want to be."

"Nope. I wanna be a truck driver."

I'm redneck to the core despite my northern upbringing.

God rectified his mistake of planting me outside of Chicago by uprooting me this fateful day.

Jane and I were on I-65 heading north for our 3 hour drive home. Except we weren't driving. We were stopped in traffic. A dead stop. With no air conditioning. On the hottest day of the year. So I turned on the CB. Because I'm like that.

"Break one-nine."

"Go ahead sweetheart."

"I wanna get home, I don't have a-c. Are we going to be in this mess forever? Should I just jump off and take the backroads?"

"The Brickyard was this weekend little lady, wherever you go you're gonna hit traffic. Might as well stay here. It clears up after a bit."

Jane decided to get in the driver's seat. I shucked my shoes and stuck my pretty little toes out the window. The CB chatter was annoying so we turned it off and sang to the radio. We moved a little and then got going good only to come to another dead stop. I turned on the CB again and this time listened to some trucker telling jokes. He was flirting with another girl, too. We moved up a little and I saw her talking into her CB and I hit Jane's arm."Look at her! Her hair looks like a Q-tip!"

"She's ug--uh--gly."

"Well, he's probably eight hundred pounds, buck-toothed--if he has teeth, and uglier than her. They probably belong together."

She got off that exit. I hope she didn't hear us. Her windows were rolled up. She probably didn't. I didn't think about that then. When I was sure she was out of range, I said, "Hawkeye, did you see that girl you were flirting with?"

"Aw hell, darlin, I don't need to see her. Ugly girls need love too."

I turned to Jane. "Hide the CB. Give me your purse. He's got to be butt-ugly to say that."

And I was one to know. I waitressed midnights at a truck stop. Told you I was redneck. You didn't believe me, did you? You're starting to now, though, huh?

Hawkeye told her what kind of truck he was driving. A maroon Prime, Inc truck with a "shiney hiney." As we came up on it I tried my best to look like I didn't have a CB and I wasn't Mickey. I looked up into his window.

"Holy Shit!" I said. His window was up. I know he didn't hear me. "Jane, look, it's the Marlboro Man!" (and no. I didn't steal that from Ree. But she got all popular and now it looks like I stole it. But you can ask Jane.)



And there he was. All decked out in his western shirt and his black cowboy hat. Dayum. Over the CB in my pickup I hear, "Holy Shit, huh? Well you're not too damn bad yourself."

I screamed. I swear I did. "He read my lips!! Oh.my.God. He read my lips!"

I composed myself for three seconds to answer him. And fake screamed to Jane. Who was leaning over in the seat to see him and telling me how cute he was. We talked for the next two or three hours, we were getting close to the exit for home and Hawkeye said, "Why don't you follow me to Chicago. I got a load to pick up there and we can talk a little more."

I looked over at Jane. Jane who always drove when I was too drunk. Jane who fished me out of potentially bad situations. Jane who was my only conscious at that time in my life. Jane said, "Sure. Y'never know. It might be fate."

Stop for a dramatic pause. And my heart coming out of my throat and butterflies tripping on acid in my stomach.

"Okay. But we're not getting out of this pickup," I said, all of a sudden developing some weird maternal instinct. "We'll stay in the truck and he can stand and talk to us. I don't want to meet with some serial rapist or something." Jane nodded in agreement. "But he is cute," I added in my dream-like trance.

We ended up staying in Chicago for five hours. Five hours! We didn't have cell phones or pagers and we didn't see a pay phone. Really, even if I saw a pay phone what would I say? "Mom, I'm in Chicago with a truck driver I met on the CB and he's really cute and..." Sure. I was twenty-two and old enough, but I did move back home after my divorce.

Oh, you really don't want to hear that story--Jane's fiance is still one of my ex-husband's best friends. Yep. If I hadn't have met and married and divorced Dingbat, Jane and I wouldn't have been in Indy that day because my ex and I set Jane and her fiance up. They're still married by the way. So for all the heartache Dingbat caused me, I thank him because I met my soulmate. Sorry. Did I get distracted again?



Sunset. Getting late August 7, 1994.

Jane had moved to the passenger seat and I was in the driver's seat of my pickup talking to Hawkeye.

For hours.

Jane was asleep, or so I thought.

She sat bolt upright out of the blue, scared the life right out of me, looked at Hawkeye and said, "Would you just kiss her and get it over with?"

Hawkeye took off his cowboy hat, put it on the top of my pickup, and looked at me. He leaned in, grabbed the back of my neck ever so gently with his right hand and cradled my cheek with his left and kissed me.

What a delicious kiss.

I remember thinking, "I wonder what it's like to live in Missouri?"

He backed up and stared at me again, "You're eyes changed colors. They were just hazel a minute ago, now they're green!"


Today. August 7, 2008

Some things never change. Jane and I are still as close as we've ever been. The air conditioning in the car I have now doesn't work. Jeff Gordon is still winning races. It's still hot in August. Hawkeye still drives a truck.

And my eyes still change color when I kiss my cowboy.

I love you baby.



This is my first entry ever for Scribbit's Write-Away Contest.

Marriage Monday--Camping Edition

Want this button?

Just last week, I blogged a Praying In Color entry.

When I started praying, I had no clue it would end up to be a picture of a canoe camping trip, but subconsciously it must have been on my mind. I know that getting Phil to relax was weighing on me. I’d been trying not to nag him so I’d say, “I’m worried you’re not getting enough rest.”

“Got things to do.”

“They can wait, they’re not as important as your health and you need to rest.”

“When I’m done.”

“You’ll keep adding to your list.”

“What do you want me to do? Things got to get done around here.”

“I want you to at least take Sunday off.”

“How about Sunday afternoon?”

So I compromised for a few weeks. Phil works from seven in the morning until nine or ten at night five days a week. Then on the weekend, he’s out mowing the lawn, fixing the cars, and tending to all of the other mishaps that inevitably happen. We’re Murphy’s red-headed step children. Seriously. Ask people who have seen the chaos in action.

For the last few weeks, I haven’t had to beg Phil to relax, he’s taken to enjoying an entire Sunday off. Except cooking. But cooking is one of those activities that bond and solidify our relationship. I’m his perfect sous chef.

We took a two day float trip last summer on the Tippecanoe River. We camped at Tippecanoe State park. I don’t necessarily enjoy the work-out a canoe trip on a windy weekend gives me, but it melted my heart to see Phil truly relax, fish, and enjoy himself.

He doesn’t do well relaxing at home. I think all of the things to do dangle in front of him and taunt him. I know, they do that to me too, but mothers have the ability to tone out frequencies that are annoying. Sure dads tune out things, but typically if they’ve tuned one thing out they’ve tuned everything out. Moms can tune out the irritating stuff. Tell me I’m wrong!

So we go camping.

I love, love, love campfires. Cooking breakfast over a fire brings out the maternal in me. Who knows why. I don’t care why. I know I’m up at the crack of dawn wrapped up in a flannel shirt, throwing another log on the fire. I get the water boiling for the coffee and sip it while I add bacon to the cast iron skillet. Phil gets up, drinks my (by then) cold coffee and I make another steaming cup for myself. We take turns flipping the bacon and Zane yells from the tent, “I smell bacon!” and we sit by the fire waiting.

So I prayed for some extra money and for Phil’s boss to let him have a weekday off and I planned another float trip for our family. Next year, my goal is for more than one camping trip.

Letterboxing in Missouri

I told you here we'd be going Letterboxing while we were in Missouri--well, we did!

The first one we did at Beaver Creek Conservation area was a bust. We followed the excellent directions, but there was no box hidden at the location. It seemed to us that this place was well used by people who maybe don't have a lot of other things to do and possibly the box was stolen because of that. When we pulled up to park, a white car pulled in after us and parked three spots to the right. They were hot and heavy getting it on and they didn't even put their car in park. We had to cover Zane's eyes and Mike wanted to go scare them.

The second one made it all worth while. This one was located at Maramec Springs State Park.

I didn't set out to take photos of all scenic mentions in the directions, but it seems I have. So let me show you how letterboxing works in our family. Mind you, we're not typical. Sorry to disappoint.

We entered the and parked as the directions stated. Then it said, "Head east toward the bridge with a yellow sign. Read the sign and heed it. Cross the foot bridge and enjoy the trout scenery. You can buy fish food 10 or 25 cents and feed them if you wish." So of course, who can resist popping in quarters to feed the fish? Not my boys!

Next, "Follow the trail toward the green spring house, cross the bridge before the spring house."

"You will see a tunnel on your left. Take the stairs under the bridge. Continue straight on the trail." I don't think they intended Zane to take a pit stop, but what can you do?

Then, "Follow the main trail past the furnace. Up the hill you will see green and yellow equipment built for fun. No time for that now. Take the low road to the river."

"Continue North on paved path. You will hear the babbling brook in the distance & see people with fishing poles. "


Past the tiny spring you will follow the trail up the hill and continue on the trail between the two black rails. Continue trail down the trail.

A big tree once stood tall is where you’ll find it all. Take a break on the edge of the fallen tree and you’ll see a brown building with green roof at 2 o’clock. Reach where moss always grows under the tree covered by debris.

So. We looked for a fallen tree. And Phil dug with a stick. Because there might be spiders or snakes. Don't the boys look excited? But the box wasn't there. So we looked for another fallen tree. And we dug some more. And we couldn't find the box. And everyone was bummed. But the park was so amazing and beautiful that we were all glad we stopped anyway. We figured the box had been planted before the flood and it must have been washed away. You could see the flood lines and the water had covered the path the box was supposed to be hidden on. So we decided to make the best of it and enjoy the day.

But wait! What's that? We miscalculated? Or maybe the one reading the directions didn't quite "get it?" It said, " If you pass the 2nd stairs past the big rippling water you’ve gone to far. " Lord have mercy we didn't pass the 2nd stairs yet!! So we found yet another fallen tree. And Phil dug again. Don't the boys look even more excited? Well, at least Phil pretends for me.

And there it was!!! The box!! So we all stamped the book inside the box and used the stamper inside the box on our journals. Finally. Success. Now the boys at least look interested, don't you think?
The directions then read, "Continue North on the trail and enjoy the swinging bridge."

We did. But I've posted tons of pictures today so I might have to continue this tomorrow. Or because I know myself, it might be a week or a month from now. But I'll remind you where I talked about it first.

Bad Blogger Day 3

Run Forrest Run!

Chuck loves going on walks.
Molly's tuckered out. You'd be tired too if you were missing a leg.

Had to throw a pretty one in there.

Our un-named Beta fish jumped to his death.
He jumped out of his water. I found him on the carpet almost completely dried up.
These pictures are right after I threw him back in the water.

He was still breathing for a few hours, buy his buoyancy was gone.
I know he looks dead here, but really, he was still alive.
Why would I take pictures of a dead fish.

Okay. Don't answer that.
Then Phil went gangsta with the hat and tried to choke the dogs.


I told him to leave the dogs alone and he went psycho on me.

Molly protected me.
Or hid in the tub.


We took another walk in the woods and found a dead tree creature.
I know it was dead because I poked it.
Unless it was playing possum.
But I'm pretty sure the tree creature is dead.

I'm a Bad Blogger

Once again, I have neglected the ten or so people who stop by here regularly. I don't mean to neglect you. Really. So in honor of your dedication despite my disregard I'll post a week's worth of photos (and captions) so you know why I've not been here paying attention to you.

Forgive me?

I think I'll work backwards. Because I want to.

Sunday April 6.

We went for a walk down our road.
I found some creepy buildings in the woods.
I have story ideas.

The Shack of Many Colors

Click on the picture. Check out the shingles.
What are those little doors for below the window?
Who lived here?
Oh the stories I have blending in my brain.

This little shack was just steps from the Shack of Many Colors.
They should have put matching shingles on it.
I was afraid.
Oh I am so not lying.
I could not. Could NOT open the door of this shed.
It was cracked open when I got there. If you click on the picture,
you can see that there's something in there.
I was too afraid to look.
Yes.
Me.
Too afraid.

This hole in the ground was steps away from the Green Door shack.
This is probably what made me afraid to open the door.
Creepy side view of the Shack of Many Colors

Still on Sunday:
$153.00 worth of stuff at CVS and I spent only $1.46!!!!!!
(here's how)

Saturday April 5.
Chicago Street Theater's Encores Musical Gala. Look for us in
Lake Magazine--we had our photo taken. I'm excited to see if we'll be in there!

Driving Into Flood Waters = Stupid

Near as I can tell, this is what happened.

First, Phil called his cousin to make sure the family down south was not floating away. Seems that Bunk lucked out and water didn't end up in his house after all because a levee broke and relieved the pressure. Now I'm guessing some other families might not have been all too happy about that other levee breaking, but we were just fine with it. Bunk's the one I was most worried about. He and I have this special connection. Least I think so. If I told you what happened, you'd think I was a freak. Not that I'd have to talk too long because I mostly am a freak already, but this would be sure to do the trick if you're still hanging around reading this stuff.

Phil's uncle, that's Bryan Gene. Lord that man and his wife don't have a single brain cell between the two of them.

Phil got the story from Nick, Bryan Gene's son. I got it from Sharon, and I can't remember who she is. Grandpa Jack's sister's daughter, maybe? Something like that. I try to keep them all straight, but in the almost 15 years we've been together all I've got down is a few.

They all have scanners. Police scanners. And they're on all the time. Even with the TV. Just as loud as the TV. Say Amen if you know where I'm coming from here.

Now, Grandpa Jack died awhile back and since then Bryan Gene has sold off everything the man left behind. First they drove Grandpa Jack's car til it died, then Grandma's (she passed a few years ago) until the transmission went out. So Bryan Gene decided to sell Grandpa Jack's boat. I'm not totally right on that. Let me try again. Bryan Gene was going to GIVE Grandpa Jack's boat to the guy who was fixing the transmission. The boat was worth WAY more than that. So Grandpa Jack's friend down at the Marina heard about this and gave Bryan Gene cash.

Bryan Gene took the cash and bought a pick up and put liability on it.

Then he and Barbara went down the road to Dung Beetle's house. Maybe it was Asian Beetle? Or Caterpillar? Some bug. Anyhow, Bryan Gene and Barbara went there to get drunk and high. They drove through a puddle to get to this guy's house

They achieved their goal and headed home. I think they went around the road closed and high water signs. Bryan Gene said to Barbara, "Well hell, we drove through it to get there, it can't be that bad." And headed into the water.



So Sharon and the family are gathered. Eating no doubt. Sharon's people have brought clothes with them just in case they can't make it back home for the flooded roads. Scanner's on and they're hearing about some people, male and female, muddy, in the water. Hypothermia. Ambulance. Etc... And the family's cracking jokes about the ignorant people out there knowing what happens when you drive your vehicle into the flood waters. Any fool'd know that the current's too strong and why would anyone be so ignorant as to do such a thing?

Then they ran the driver's licenses of the man and woman. Bryan Gene and Barbara.

Well.

That explains it then.

They are ignorant.

No one's really sure how Bryan Gene survives anything. He's had more car wrecks than Evil Knievel, smoked more weed than any human should smoke, has brain damage from it (diagnosed, honest to God brain damage), and just just all around...well...ignorant is a safe word.

They got Bryan Gene and Barbara out, treated them for hypothermia and they're home now.

He probably should have kept the boat and drove around in that until the flood waters receded, then sold it and paid cash for the pickup. Now he's out a boat, cash, and the pick up.

But he was on the news.

Pray Please

I'm making some phone calls now to find out more, but I know Bunk, one of Phil's grandpa's brothers, has been forced from his home in Pocahontas, Arkansas because of the floods. He and some neighbors moved out a few days ago.

And Phil's uncle--he was one of those stupid people who drive in the flood waters. Okay, I know sometimes there are true accidents, but this wasn't one of them. Bryan Gene was out getting drunk and high...

I'll tell you the rest later. Just pray because all of Phil's family lives in Pocahontas and the river isn't expected to crest until Wednesday.

Happy Valentine's Day

Marriage Monday--Best Valentine Ever

Something new this month for me! I saw it first at Robin's blog, that woman gets around, I swear she does! Even so, she had one of the best Valentine's I've ever seen on her blog. I had to join in because Phil does stuff like Robin's husband. (Wait til I post pictures of my 30th birthday present!)

So, go to Chrysalis and check out the rest of the Marriage Monday people!

Here's my entry. When I saw Robin's, it reminded me of this letter I put in our Faithbook.




The Cowboy has been writing me letters like that since day one. I still get them. I must be am the luckiest girl in the whole wide world.