Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Remember that time I died?

Okay...I didn't. Obviously. But SOME naive youngsters thought I did. It all started with an innocent turn on the tire swing when I was about 11 or 12.

Oh yeah, we had a tire swing on the farm. I might have failed to mention that previously. Here is a picture to prove it.

That is Everett swinging on there. Unfortunately I don't have a better picture but it was probably about 30 feet from the ground to the branch. That is important later in the story.

Tim, my step-dad, was pushing me, and I was trying to grab some leaves from the tree. I was getting so close. My fingers brushed the cool green leaves, I knew that with the next swing I would get a leaf. I would be the first in my family to do so...what can I say, I set my goals high (stop laughing!).

I swung in an arc and leaned to reach, I was so close...

..just a little farther...

..I let go.

And plummeted 30 feet to the ground. I landed flat on my back, I think I may have been unconscious for a little while (maybe a minute at most). Tim was leaning over me asking if I was alright, but the air had been knocked out of my lungs so I did was gasp, and probably cry.

Everett and Ashley took off to find my Mom, and somehow on the way to the barn she was in the story evolved a little.

Bekah fell off the tire swing!

Bekah is hurt!

Bekah broke her neck!

Bekah is dead!!!

No mother should ever hear those words. You can imagine the panicked dash to find me after my Mother heard the news of my untimely death.

By the time she made it to me, I was already sitting up. She cuddled me for a minute, then told Tim to never ever ever ever send Everett or Ashley in an emergency again. You might remember Everett prematurely sounding the alarm in my snake bite incident. Yeah, he just wasn't reliable in a stress situation. Please feel free to read the post below to get a better idea of the person my baby brother has become.

I was fine, my arm was a little sore, but I still had to go to dreaded Camp Pamadeva the next day. Oh, how I despised camp...but that is another story for another day.

And that, children, is the story of how I died.

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Tears of Laughter

Saturday was Smashley's birthday, she had gone to visit friends for the weekend, so we celebrated last night. As usual, the evening quickly turned into a night of laughter. Especially when my brother revealed his present to her.

He had thought long and hard about what to get a girl..er young woman, who is celebrating their twentieth birthday. I am sure he pondered this question long into the night. Finally, he struck gold. He made her a gift. The best gifts the personalized ones, right?



You can see it here.


I am laughing out loud even now, and I have seen that at least 20 times in the past 12 hours. Something about it screams Uncle Rico (name that movie).


We then moved on to another website, myheritage.com...its a pretty interesting site. They have this nifty little feature that allows you to upload one of your photos, and they match it to a couple celebrities. At first it was just mildly entertaining. The we tried Everett's picture, and the results speak for themselves.

Haa ha ho ho ho hee hee...


I just didn't see the resemblance...so I tried a new picture. My thought was that the first one wasn't the greatest picture of him, so I wanted to try to get a little closer. Our family was predicting he would come back as a match to Prince William, or maybe Harry. Not so much....

HA HA HA HA you gotta be kidding me!

Monday, April 28, 2008

Emergency Room Visit #4

One winter when Everett and I were playing out in the snow, he pegged me right in the face with a snowball. I screamed and raged and threw a temper tantrum. There was no one but he and I out there, and he was not impressed.

I think back to that, and I wonder where in my bratty little head I came up with the idea that yelling and screaming would have fixed any problem. I was a naughty little banshee...my parents would have been justified in locking me in my room until I was 18(but they are much more patient than I). What a terror. Okay, back to the story.

Then, for some reason, I kicked our cement patio. The pain of kicking an immovable object quickly snapped me out of my temper tantrum, but that's not all it did.

I felt woozy, I started to cry, my dear sweet little brother ran over and tried to help me go inside. My dad and stepmom asked me what happened, I told them I accidentally kicked the patio.

They took off my boot, I cried.

They tried to touch my foot, I cried.

They tried to ice my foot, again with the tears.

Eventually they took me to the hospital, other than bruising my foot and breaking a toe, I was just fine.

I'm pretty sure that is the last time I kicked anything for no reason. I learned that lesson the hard way, but I learned it!

I should mention that I was pretty young, probably 9 or so...I much more mellow now. I promise.

Friday, April 25, 2008

Confessions

Okay, I didn't want to tell you this. I really didn't, but Matt tells me that for the sake of honesty I have to tell you. First I have to tell you why I told him.

We are in the process of looking at houses. I was trying to tell my Dad about one of the houses which had an archaic furnace.

"A what?" he said.

"A furnace."

"What?," he asked again.

"A furnace Dad." I was almost yelling by this time.

"You're gonna have to spell it Bekah" he stated.

I wrote this off as a bad cell phone connection. It happens. Then that same night I ran into Sam. We got onto the subject of houses and I asked him if he knew anything about this furnace.

"About a what?" he asked.

"A furnace."

"What?" He squinted his eyes at me.

"A furnace, you know, for heat?" I said.

"Oh, a furnace."

Later that night when I was talking to Matt, I had to ask, I had to know.

"Honey? Do I have a speech impediment? Like, do I maybe say my R's wrong?"

He laughed and told me I didn't.


"I just worry that maybe I do, and no one will tell me so they don't hurt my feelings."

He said he would have told me. And then I said it, I spilled my secret fear to him.

"When I was little I was worried that maybe I was a little slow, and no one would tell me."

After he stopped laughing, he told me that I had to post it.

My cheeks burn as I prepare to hit the publish button.

But seriously, you guys would tell me....right?

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Baby Brother and the Sawhorse

My baby brother, Everett, was always my little playmate on the farm. We would run around for hours doing who knows what. He was the cutest kid, he had bright blue eyes, a little crooked smile, and shockingly white hair. We got up to so much mischief. The fact that we are five years apart never seemed to matter much.


There was the time that we ran through the cornfield and grabbed a few ears of corn, we then ran to my Pop-pops pile of sand he had for mixing concrete, took off all the kernels of corn, and mixed it with the sand. All for the sake of art. The yellow kernels in the red sand really made a powerful statement. Unfortunately that statement was issued from my mother, and sounded something like "Go pick out every single kernel of corn from the sand."


Then there was the time we rode Biscuit. Oh biscuit...how I miss those days. We had a horse named Beau on the farm, and a pony named Frisket. Everett and I were not allowed to ride either of them, but wanted so desperately to be cowboys (well I guess it is cow BOY and cow GIRL, but that isn't really relevant to the story). We decided we were going horseback riding no matter what.



We got into the barn and lugged out a saddle, which by the way are heavier than you think. And, since we knew there was not a chance in Hades we were getting that on a horse, we also dragged out a sawhorse.

Pathetic, yes. Fun, surprisingly..yes

We put the saddle over the sawhorse...but something was missing. What was it...Oh! A head!

I ran inside and grabbed a pair of my mothers pantyhose, cut off a leg, and stuffed it with newspaper. we then attached it to the sawhorse with a few well placed nails.

Let the rodeo begin!

We must have sat up there, both in one saddle, for hours. We had imaginary adventures involving Indians and train robbers, starring us as the daring heroes on our powerful steed (a.k.a. sawhorse.) I will try to find the picture to post here sometime.

My baby brother is no longer so tiny. He is all grown up now. He graduates in about a month. Check him out.


These are his senior pictures, done by Sam's girlfriend Trinity.


I maintain that it is unfair that his senior pictures are freakin' awesome, while mine involve staring of into space with my hands under my chin. Needless to say Trinity did NOT take mine. She was still living in Georgia at that time...and not dating Sam.

Such a cool picture...butthead! Not that I am bitter. No...I will rise above...

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Globe Trotting

A few years ago, I think 2...maybe it was 3, I went to Thailand. And let me tell ya, if you haven't been to Thailand, you should get there at some point in your life. It really one of those, you have to see it to believe it places. I went as a chaperone with a group that was working at an orphanage. Care Corner Orphanage, to be precise. It is a truly amazing place that you can read more about here.

I can't even express to you the joy in the children there. The neat thing about Care Corner is that it is not a typical orphanage. First of all, none of the children are available for adoption. They come there for various reasons. Unfortunately many people in the area are unable to afford to take care of their own children, and because child prostitution is a very real risk, once the children are brought to Care Corner, they stay at Care Corner. Ricky, the man who runs/founded the orphanage, considers them to be his children. What is very cool to see is the amount of children who grow up at Care Corner and come back to work there as well. Many of the adults were once orphans, and because they can relate to these children, the rate of adjustment is much quicker.

Here we all are at dinner...I am fourth in on the right, my head looks gigantic. Next to me is my sister, Emily. You can barely see her past my giant noggin. The man in the front on the left is my Dad. His shirt says "Lost in Thought, please send search party." He laughs every time he wears it.

This is how we got around. I am in there, somewhere in the back. Do you see the silhouette of a boys head behind the man in the front? That silhouetted person was leaning on my legs. In the front are two little girls that live at Care Corner. The one in yellow was quite sassy. I don't know what she was saying for the most part, but sass is universal. It was endearing.

This is our group doing some work. I am in there somewhere...not sure where. That person is turquoise is Emily, Big Red is my dad. I think I am the one bent over next to the kid in the sombrero. And...no I have no idea where he got a sombrero in Thailand. I can't explain it!

That was an amazing waterfall that I climbed. That pink dot at the top is a person. It was pretty steep, and it was a once in a lifetime chance to do it...so I did. My sister yelled at me the whole time, and my Dad just laughed and said it reminded him of me when I was young and reckless. Oooo...I should have had a show! The Young and the Reckless...has a certain ring to it, don't you think?



Another really unique (in my eyes at least) and heartbreaking is the Rainbow Home. The Rainbow home is a part of the orphanage that houses HIV positive children. In Thailand, AIDs and HIV is a huge problem that affects children as well as adults. Many of the children have lost one or both parents to AIDs, and were born HIV positive. The Rainbow Home is equipped with trained nurses on a 24-hour basis, and the children at given the best possible treatment. They also get the best treatment they could get, they are loved, and they are safe. They play with the other children as if they are all brothers and sisters.



I urge you to look into getting involved in a program or a ministry like this. It doesn't have to involve a trip across the globe, there are wonderful organizations that you can work with to help people in your own community.



I highly recommend looking into Compassion International as well. It is a wonderful program that sponsors children in third-world countries, for $30 a month they provide education, food, and medicine. You can correspond with the child you sponsor through letters.



Or if you don't want to make a monthly commitment, consider a program like Operation Christmas Child through Samaritan's Purse. This program collects shoe boxes full of gifts like toothbrushes, stickers, games, calculators, and things we consider mundane, but things that children all over the world might never see.



I never knew how blessed I am to be living in this country. To have the childhood I did. To have any childhood at all. Because the truth is, some kids never will get that chance.



Thank you for reading, thanks for hanging in there while I spilled my heart. I didn't start this post intending to write any of that, I was just going to share some picture with you. But it just poured out of me. Thanks for giving me an outlet to pour it into.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Stupid Stupid Stupid!

My sister and her friends used to say stupid, stupid, stupid quickly and bop themselves in the forehead when they said something dumb..and because I wanted to be like my sister in every way possible, I picked that up.

But, unlike my sister, I say something that would earn that little saying at least once a day. I have a habit of it I think. Maybe not as bad as some (ahem..Matthew was named Most Likely to Put His Foot in His Mouth by his graduating class), but still.

So, in an effort to be completely honest and forthright, I decided to share some of those moments with you.

There was the time that an ex-boyfriend showed me a picture of his uncle, and was telling me some stories about him. I asked how old he was and he told me he was 57, then his brother said "Well, he was 57, but he stopped having birthdays a few years ago"

"Oh" I said, "He just didn't want to tell people he was older? Haha I thought only women did that" I giggled.

They both just stared at me.

"No Bekah" he finally said. "He died a few years ago."

Stupid stupid stupid!!

Then there was that time I got in trouble in french class. My dad had to come to the school, I don't even remember what I did.

"Dad!" I said, "It's not my fault, it's Madame, she just mean! She hates me because I am young and she is not!"

"Uh Bekah, I think you should stop talking."

"No Dad! I don't care! She is awful"

*She wasn't awful, she wasn't great, but she wasn't awful. I was just mad*
"Um hon" he looked over my shoulder.

I turned around, and there she was. Glaring at me. Oh. My. Gosh.

Stupid stupid stupid!

There are just so many times I have done this. Am I the only one?

Monday, April 21, 2008

Annie Oakley

So...I shot a gun for the first time in my life yesterday. And you know what? I liked it! How did I get to be this age and never shoot a gun of any kind? Especially growing up on a farm. Everyone assumed that at some point someone else had taken me shooting. Sam finally did.

It's not that I wasn't exposed to guns. My dad used to take me with him when he would go out and shoot varmints. Oh, and never in my life have I heard any member of my family utter the word varmint, but it seemed appropriate in the situation. I used to strap on my cowboy holster, make sure I had my plastic, orange-capped gun at the ready, and wear my boots.

My mom once killed a rabid raccoon that was down at the stream while she was standing on the porch. We were all playing outside and her maternal, protective, spidey-sense told her that the raccoon was posing a danger to her babies.

She got that sucker in one shot, we like to reenact the scene from The Ghost and the Darkeness with Val Kilmer and Micheal Douglas.

One shot! She has made the night safe again, with one shot!

Such a great movie. Such a great memory, my mom is Annie Oakley...to me if to no one else.

Me...not so much. I know I hit the target once out of three times with a handgun...I know this since someone tells me I did. I certainly didn't hear it hit. No one tells you that, by the way. No one says "oh yeah, after you fire it you will hear NOTHING for about 10 seconds." It might have been nice to know that in advance. I'm just sayin.

Still, I thought it was fun.

My youngest sister shot it too...I tried to tell her that she wouldn't be able to hear right away, but I had trouble conveying that to her. She didn't like it I think. She fired it and her knees buckled, she turned around and stared at us as if we had betrayed her.

We then got out a different gun, a 45 caliber handgun...and no, I don't know what that means. When I was ready to try shooting it...it just clicked. That right there is anticlimax. I let my breath out in a whoosh. I was expecting a big bang and a kick...but all I got was a click.

So I tried it again....

Click.

Again...

Click...

AGAIN...

Click.

At this point my stomach was at my ankles. I handed it back to Sam. I couldn't take the pressure anymore. I folded. I am ashamed.

Okay, I'm not really ashamed.

Friday, April 18, 2008

She Inspires Me

A few posts ago I told you that my Mom only has one kidney. I think this is as good a time as any to explain how that all came about.


I was in sixth grade when we moved to a new school district, so Emily was in eighth grade. She quickly made friends and became quite close to a girl named Valen. You can read more about Valen here. Valen has PKD (Polycystic Kidney Disease), a genetic, potentially life-threatening disease. There is no treatment, and there is no cure. What is even more shocking is the amount of people affected by this disease...it affects more that 12.5 million people worldwide


Some people can live almost their whole lives feeling few if any symptoms of PKD, Valen is not one of those people.

I think it is safe to say that no one could have guessed the impact that junior high friendship would have on both Valens family and our family. She and Emily went to college together, and shared a dorm room. Halfway through her freshman year she had to leave school due to severe complications of PKD.. She eventually had both of her kidneys removed and was put on dialysis.


She was put on the list of a transplant, but those lists are long and there was little hope she would get a transplant very soon.


Meanwhile, my Mom had been praying and felt that she should get tested to see if she was a match to Valen. Wouldn't you know, she was!


On August 13, 2002 Valen recieved my Mom's kidney, and now, almost six years later, she is still doing well, she is a healthy, beautiful young lady.


Here they are together.


I love Valen, and I still cannot believe the selfless love that my Mom shows to everyone she meets. I honestly believe that if she could, she would give away her other kidney, her liver, and whatever anyone else might ever need.


Not only that, but remember my sister Emily? Valens best friend? Well, as you know she recently married...Valens brother!


Like I said, I don't believe that anyone could have known what that junior high friendship would lead to. I also don't believe in coincidence, I really believe this was all orchestrated by God.


On a sidenote -- Brandon also has PKD, but it is not a severe as Valens was. Brandon recently learned his blood type, its the same as mine! I told him that if he ever needs a kidney he can have one of mine. He said "No thanks, it's probably the size of a peanut." RUDE! I'm still offended.

Thursday, April 17, 2008

The "Waterslide"

The Thursday before my sisters wedding, all of the Bridesmaids plus my Mom and Oukie went out for dinner. While we were eating, talking, and laughing the subject of this blog came up, and Oukie made the comment that she likes reading it and remembering some of the things we got up to as children, and learning things that she didn't even know we had done.

This inevitably led to another story. After recounting to Oukie the day that Emily committed Grand Theft Auto* my sisters brought up another incident that I had almost forgotten.

*I have decided to call it that, because I like to pretend things are not my fault. Emily was an innocent victim in that story, but she did take the car.

So anyway, where was I?

Oh yeah, the Waterslide.

One night when my stepmom had to work late (she is a nurse), my dad and Emily decided to watch Gettysburg. Now, if you have seen this movie you know that it is truly a fantastic movie. However, if you are 10 years old or younger, this move is boring. BORING.

So, along with my three younger siblings, I went down to the basement to play. The basement was semi-finished. I think that with five children my dad and stepmom knew that no matter what they did down there, eventually it would be wrecked. So, instead of carpet the floor was sealed and painted.

I am not sure how it all started, I remember walking over and opening up the valve on the water heater, but I really don't remember why. But, within no time, I also opened up the valve on the water pipe from the well.

Boy that water comes out fast! And, did you know that when you flood a sealed basement with 3 inches of water it becomes slippery?

And that, if the floor is slippery, the next logical step is to strip down to your underwear and slide around on your belly?

Obviously.

Keep in mind, I was not down there alone, there were four of us involved in this! And a dog. Bagel. Oh dear Bagel. He was a beagle. We even had a song for him...we were singing it that night.

He's Bagel the Beagle dog (at this point Everett or Bethany would say woof woof)
He's Bagel the Beagle dog (woof woof)
He lives in the Basement,
He loves all the children
He's Bagel the Beagle dog (WOOF WOOF)

Bagel must have gotten tired of the makeshift slip'n'slide we had going on, and he took off up the stairs, but we were having too much fun to notice.

He jumped on Emily, who remarked that he was wet. If that had been the end of it, I am convinced we somehow could have gotten away with the waterslide. But then Bethy went upstairs as well. She was still really little, and wearing a diaper that had ballooned up to at least twice it's normal size.

Emily figured it out first, and Dad wasn't far behind. Before we knew it they were both standing at the top of the stairs as we looked up in fear.

Busted!

I swear my dad's face was purple (okay not really, but he was MAD).

Our punishment was that we all had to take a bath, and go straight to bed.

Bathtime was not something any of us enjoyed, so this was actually a punishment, and we all huddled in the bathroom while my dad got the bathtub ready.

But lo and behold! We had drained the well!! Victory was ours!!! No bathtime!

We still had to go straight to bed, but in some small way I really did feel like a hero that day. I'm pretty sure that's not what my dad thought of me though.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Mind Your Own Business!

He can't seem to just butt out and mind his own business

Hey guys! What are you doing??? Can I play? You are playing, right?


Whoa, whoa, whoa, break it up guys!

Please don't think I am a bad person for letting them fight. I was almost 90% sure they were playing.

Hey you! Yeah, you with the camera! Aren't you going to do anything about this?


At this point I think he was just fed up with the whole thing, so he and Mabel (that big white dog) sat on Ashley instead.


I'm soooo not involved in this...it will only end in tears.

Sorry, Smash. Someday I will explain why I call her Smashley, there are reasons other than the obvious rhyming factor.


Gosh guys, grow up.

Oh! And in case you were concerned, the boys were just playing. That's not to say it didn't end in tears, but intentions were good.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Secret Agent Man

Dear Secret Agent Man,

Why, oh why, do you insist on being crabby? Why can't you smile at me? I smiled at you. All I wanted to do was to go into my building with my lunch of vegetable soup...but Noooooo you had to make me walk around the block to go in a different door.

I am up to nothing! I promise! I really do work here. And now you made me feel like I did something wrong. I really just want to go home...let me go to work and then go home. It simpler there, I think you would like it...you trade that suit for something more comfortable. I can teach you to whistle with grass and make the groundhogs stand up...c'mon! It'll be fun.

Yours truly,
Country Mouse

**The preceding was in response to all of the ridiculousness that is surrounding the political proceedings in the city in which I work. Michelle Obama happens to be speaking next door...right now. And due to that...my city has turned into a gigantic mess of men in suits, men in uniform, men with microphones, and men on bicycles. I am not sure where the bicycles come into play...but I have noticed a great deal of them today. Oh, and you just learned something else about me! I work downtown, which makes me feel more and more like a country mouse in a town mouse world**

More on the Wedding

I don't think I ever really knew how fast weddings can go, this is the first time I have really been involved in one, and wow. I mean, I have heard people say it is a blur...but I guess I didn't believe them.

Of course, it must have been even more of a blur for these two. Here is a cute picture of Emily. It's probably not going to make it into any sort of wedding album, and that's why I like it. I like the candid, real, fun pictures. This is just after she and Brandon cut the cake, she looked at me and licked her finger. She is just so darn cute.

And here is another one I like
I like the focus on Brandon, but there is still some action in the background...even if that action is my brother shoveling food into his mouth. It adds interest, ya know?

And then there is this...

This picture probably doesn't need an explanation. I think you can figure it out. It's just...well, it's just my family. They goof. They are fun. They are ridiculous. I love them all.

Monday, April 14, 2008

I'm Back

And I am exhausted...the weekend was such a whirl. It was fantastic...but so fast! I haven't really gotten to look at my pictures yet, but here is a sample...
Being in the wedding meant not being able to get very many pictures..but I will see what I can salvage and try to get some better shots for you! But in the meantime...look at that dress! She was stunning...I was a wreck. She was calm...I was running around like a nincompoop. She seemed to savor every moment of the day...I have no idea where the day went.
I hope that in July I am as calm, stunning, and peaceful at she was on Saturday. (I don't think I mentioned that I am getting married in July yet, did I? Well I am.)
I can't even imagine how fast it must have gone for Emily and Brandon. They are now in Jamaica drinking margaritas and soaking up some sun...lucky little dogs! I'm so happy for them.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

All kinds of Cuteness

This might possibly be one of the cutest baby animals...

This is Flocke, I randomly saw this picture on AOL this morning...and proceeded to stare at it for a full minute. And for me to stare at anything for a full minute is an accomplishment.

This post has absolutely nothing to do with me, but I thought maybe you could all use a break from stories.

Look at him (her?)! He (she?) is playing! Alone. It breaks my heart...I just want to hug him (her?). I am convinced that baby animals of any kind are adorable, except maybe baby snakes, that is my own personal prejudice. But even then, in miniature they really aren't so bad. And ever since Charlotte's Web there has been a soft spot in my heart for baby spiders giving themselves names. Any animated animal that names itself Joy is okay in my book! Anybody know any of the other baby spider's names? Joy was the only what I remember. I want to say Arabella...but I honestly have NO idea where that is coming from.

I'll be MIA 'til Monday...we have wedding stuff to do! See you then! Have a nice weekend!

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

The Great Escape

We had a dog named Nala. She showed up when she was just a puppy, and she took a liking to us...and our food.

She might have been one of the happiest dogs...and one of the dumbest. And I mean dumbest in the most loving way possible. She was responsible for the demolition of no less than 4 screen doors, among other things. She loved to run, and there was nothing that was going to stop her.

Most of all, she loved to run over to our neighbors longhorns, and roll around in their poop. This was the height of enjoyment for this dog, and if she got into her head that she wanted to head on over there, there was no getting in her way. She could get out of anything. No cage, house, or rope could hold her.

Okay, we didn't actually have a cage for her, but if we had it wouldn't have done any good...I know it.

One day during the summer she took off, and I decided I was NOT going to let her get away. My dad was at work, and the five of us were home alone...supposedly under my 14 year old sisters supervision, but I think she was off applying makeup when this went down.

I took off after Nala, Ashley (younger sister) took off after me, Everett (younger brother) followed her and Bethany (Baby sister) was not going to stand by and miss the adventure.

Emily (older sister) must have seen us go by a window or something, and realizing that we were heading for our neighbors property tried to chase us down. I think she probably yelled for a while, but we were on a mission dangit! No time for obedience!

So she grabbed the keys to my dads van and set off down the road to head us off.

At this point dad came down the road to see...(in this order)

....his dog hightailing it for the cattle...

...his 12 year-old...

...his 8 year-old...

...his 7 year-old...

...his 5 year-old...

...and last but not least...

...his 14 year-old driving his van...

...somehow in this story I get the blame as the cause of the chase. They tell me I should have known better.

I am blamed as the culprit. Not the runaway mutt. Not the blind little followers (I didn't tell them to come, gosh!).

And how are we forgetting the underage grand theft auto??

Come on!

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Memory Lane and Childhood Antics

As I mentioned before, my sister is getting married on Saturday. This Saturday. So I am being nostalgic and mopey and looking at pictures from when we were little.


This one stands out in the group for several reasons.

1. This is how my mother got us to do dishes.


2. Yes I am wearing a muumuu, what's it to you?


3. My sister is wearing go-go boots. Oh, here she is again in go-go boots, only this time she is all grown up.

That is at her bridal shower. She LOVED that game. Loved it. And she told me I would pay for making her do that...I know that she was just kidding though. Right Em? Em? Emmy, please don't make me do anything embarrassing in front of other people. Please Emmy! I'm sorry! I take it back! I'll never do it again!


Typing that reminded me of another time I made her promise not to do something I had done to her.

I don't know why I did it, I am a middle child and maybe it had something to do with my birth order, or maybe it was a full moon. Or maybe Venus was in the seventh house...and maybe I don't know what that seventh house business was supposed to mean.

I was about 12 or 13, so that means she was around 15 or so, and she was taking forever to get done in the bathroom. So I took advantage of that to set up the BEST practical joke of all time. Well, I thought it was. I snuck into her room and slipped under the bed.

After at least a half an hour, maybe not but time passes slowly under a bed, she came it, turned off the light, and got into bed.

I waited for a few minutes, then I slowly slipped my hand out from under the bed...

...reached under her covers...

...and grabbed her ankle.

That's all I did! I swear! She screamed a scream that I will never ever forget as long as I live.

My dad came running, my younger sisters and brother looked out from their rooms. I slunk out from under the bed to looks of disdain from my sister and father.

She was pretty good-natured about some of the things I got up to, and after about two days she started talking to me again. I made her promise not to do it to me, because I hate being scared. Then I checked under my bed every night for about a year.

Gosh, the more I think about it, the more I realize what a treasure my big sister really is. I hope she knows that.

Monday, April 7, 2008

I like this picture

I am not feeling particularly verbose this afternoon...so here is this.

That's Claudio. He is working on a roof. I just like the orange of his shirt against the blue of the sky. And I like the pattern that the corrugated roofing makes. It's interesting, no?

Friday, April 4, 2008

The Refined Canine

Yesterday, when I got home from work, I found the strangest thing I have ever known Jaco to do...


..and it wasn't what you would think a puppy would do when left up to his own devices all day long.



He didn't chew anything, defecate anywhere, or mark any new "territory". No, my dog made himself a cup of tea.


I kid you not. Earl Grey tea to be specific.

I came home, and there was a teabag steeping in his water dish. I can't explain it, I don't even know how he got a teabag, much less how he knew how to put it in his water dish.



I was stunned, so stunned I forgot to take a picture for you. But I can't even make this stuff up!


Oh and P.S. caffeine + five month old puppy = no rest for Bekah. But it's okay...I love that dog. Who could resist a face like this?
I mean, look at those eyes...are you kidding me??



And I have a never ending love affair with his feet. I don't know why. I just can't help it. He crosses them, and I can't resist taking pictures of them.

Matt thinks I have issues. I probably do, but still....those feet!

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Getting my Driver's License

What is a rite of passage for most teenagers was one of the most difficult
ordeals of my life. Okay, I might be exaggerating that a TAD, but it was no fun.

My mom did not want me to be driving at 16, so I had to wait until I was 17 to be allowed to take the test. So, on my 17th birthday I scheduled my driving exam. My mom took me to the DMV and I waited impatiently for my number to come up.

Finally, it was my turn. This was it! I was finally going to enter that group of teenagers who could drive. I could not wait to see my picture smiling up at me from that little oh-so-important piece of plastic.

Parallel parking...Check!
Pulling out of an intersection...Check!
Using my turn signals...Check!
Making a hand over hand turn...Check!

This was great! I knew that the instructor must be thinking that I was a natural. Until we got to that blasted intersection!

The car I was driving has some...glitches. The check engine light came on, and he asked what that was for.

"Oh" I said, "Nothin. That happens all the time. It's no biggie."

Famous last words.

The air around us started to turn black as thick smoke poured from the exhaust pipe. I tried hard to pretend this was nothing, and just continued driving.

The test was finally almost over, just one more intersection to get through and we would be back at the DMV.

"Turn right" he said.

So I did. Through a red light.

"Do you make it a habit of running red light?"

"Umm, what?"

"You just ran that light."

"Oh, really?"

Honestly, I thought I didn't have to stop...I did slow drastically and look to see if anyone was coming. This didn't work with the instructor...

...and I had to go back in 6 months. Oh the shame. Happy Birthday to me, huh?

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Nostalgia and a Wedding

My sister is getting married in 9 days....NINE. I can't believe it is already here. I get a little choked up thinking about it, not because I am sad, but just because everything changes over time. Then I found this picture...
...And I realized something will never change. She will always be my big sister. That's me with the bowl cut (long story..I'll tell you later), and that is her with the long angelic blonde pigtails.



Do you see how she is holding me? She always wanted to protect me, probably because I never gave a single thought to safety or consequences...but that is neither here nor there. I didn't have to, because she was there to hold my hand when we went to get the mail.



Do you see the way we are laughing? That will definitely never change. She will always make me laugh, and I like to think I can make her laugh as well.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Matt, stage 1

I can not get enough of Matt's baby pictures. Just seeing him so tiny and innocent..and pink. It gives me butterflies all over again!

Not to mention I burst out laughing when I see them!

How precious is that?

Look at those rolls! And the lips..oh the lips! I could stare at those lips for hours. Why was his upper lip absent in this picture? Why does his upper lip remind me of a turtle? Don't even get me started on that chin(s).

Somehow he turned into this...

Which I can (and often do) stare at for hours. Those eyes...I get lost in them! I can't resist them. Come to think of it...I get butterflies from this as well.

And, see! At some point he did develop an upper lip!

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