Friday, November 25, 2011

An Old Thanksgiving Day Tradition Reborn



For thanksgiving day we stayed home for the first time in quite a while. While Doll & I worked in the kitchen, Doll sent the kids upstairs with Tim & Kristin to come up with some type of entertainment for the afternoon. They worked for more than an hour upstairs while we worked downstairs. At times we thought they were coming down through the ceiling, but all was still intact when they finally did come down to show off their production. This type of tradition had been initiated by our oldest, Ash-Brook when she was quite a bit younger. So Tim et.al. wanted to dedicate this performance to her. By the way, this presentation was preceded by a fierce Star Wars style light-saber battle. Master Cole won of course.

Matching is Only For Socks and Family Pictures...and High School

Sarah spent her senior year of high school with me during my Freshman year. The school was a new experience for both of us.
You could definitely say that going to high school with your oldest sibling has it's perks. For instance, I got to share a locker with my older sister...in the Senior hallway. I also got to brag about how cool she was to my friends.
"I like your shoes!"
"Thanks!"
"I love Vans. You know who else loves Vans? My sister. She works there."
"I--I'm not wearing Vans."
"Oh...my sister probably is. She works there."

"Wow, nice haircut!"
"Thanks!"
"My sister just got her haircut...
...at Toni & Guy...
...for free
...she's a hair model...
...for them...
...and by "them" I mean Toni & Guy."
"Oh at the one in the Mission Viejo Mall?"
"Nope, the one at Fashion Island."

Despite the great perks that came along with going to school with an older sibling, there always comes...well....not perks, which is why I'm writing this post today.

The biggest disadvantage of going to high school with an older sibling is not that they can easily reveal that you still sleep with your Care Bear blanket whilst sucking your thumb, nor is it that they can convince you to leave seminary early and go to Paradise Bakery for muffins (it was only once, okay?!).
No, the biggest disadvantage to going to school with an older sibling is that there is always a slight chance that your clothes might match the other's.

"No big deal! You went to high school with your older sister, you can't match your sister! Right?" WRONG.

We didn't match every once and a while. We matched every.day. We wouldn't find out that we matched each other utnil we got to seminary because I was a little enthusiastic about seminary, so I'd wait for Sarah in the car- dad in the driver's seat, me in the passenger seat. It got a little ridiculous as time went on. It got to the point where I would wear a green shirt and plaid shorts. What was Sarah wearing? The girl version. Green shirt and a plaid skirt.

We always talked about how much we hated how we did this all the time while in seminary, but I secretly liked it.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

A New Holiday and Foreign Traditions

By the time Kristin was just starting to form complete sentences in English and understand what was being said to her in English, a joke was born.

As dad, Cassidy, Kristin, and I sat at the table eating dinner, every small bottle of Gatorade for each person was open, except Kristin's. She hadn't opened her's yet.
Thank goodness Kristin didn't open her bottle of Gatorade! It was "National No Drink Night". My goodness, were we all embarrassed (except Kristin of course) that we had forgotten about this national holiday! It was too late though. The bottles were already open (except Kristin's of course), so sadly we had to drink the rest of our drinks.
Don't worry, we didn't leave Kristin out of the dark. What kind of family do you think we are? Right before she opened her bottle of Gatorade, I stopped her immediately, for I had JUST remembered of this vital holiday to the history of this amazing country. I told her all about this holiday, while Cassidy and dad piped in as well adding the facts and traditions that I had accidentally left out.
I'm sure you all know of this holiday, but for those who are still feeling in the dark (might I add that you should feel ashamed and little embarrassed) I will enlighten you.
National No Drink Night is simple. You don't drink anything during or after dinner. Duh.

After Kristin's gain of knowledge of such importance, and our explanation as to why we have to keep drinking our drinks (we had already opened them prior to me remembering about the holiday), she exclaims, "Wow. I'm so glad that I didn't open my drink! That was a close one!" She proceeds to put her drink that she had almost opened down, and continues eating, not so sure how she feels about this foreign holiday's traditions that she now feels obligated to follow.

I'm not sure when we decided to tell her that it was all a joke, or even if we did tell her that it was a joke. Now that I think of it, I do catch her politely refuse her routine water at dinner every year around the same time of year we told her about this country's most exciting and vital holiday.

Happy Early National No Drink Night. I hope you have a good one.

Country Goes To City

This blog has been too quiet for too long so on its almost anniversary I'm going to try to resurrect it. So I think the best way to do that is to write about the most important person in my life for the last 30 years. 

In March of 1981 I had been home off my mission for about 1 year when my brother Scott convinced me to go to a dance in Atlanta.  The dance was to be a country western dance.  At the time I was in school & had no spare money so I wore my blue jeans and a white button up shirt.  I may have even had my dad's cowboy boots on.  No.  That couldn't be. 

We hitch up the wagon probably to the pinto and left the 12 foot wide trailer home where I shared a room with 2 brothers. That's another story.  remind me to tell it later.  So we left the 147acre farm in Center, Georgia and headed west to the city of skyscrapers & shopping malls, Atlanta.  (Not that I have ever been to an Atlanta shopping mall.)

Little did I know the most wonderful lady in the world in Auburn, Alabama was preparing to take the 3 hour trek to the same activity.  She dawned a beautiful purple(ish) and off white dress with high heals.  Her hair was nothing short of perfect: short and dark.  It curled in slightly at  jaw level.  He make up was was perfect.  She came with her boy friend & I think they were riding in a Rolls Royce. 

I arrive at the dance and we discover that the dance is a mixture of country western, formal, casual, and who knows what else.  I wasn't really in the mode to have a good time but, Scott's fiance Debbie brought the most beautiful girl I had ever met to meet me.  I would never have approached anyone so beautiful so when she began to sing, i mean talk, I was pretty much dumb founded.  The fact that I was in blue jeans and a white button up shirt didn't help my confidence.  Debbie convinced us to dance and we walked out onto the dance floor.  As we danced I'm sure I probably talked about myself & my family most of the night.  In an awkward attempt to pay her a compliment, I told Doll that she was amazing and proceeded to explain that I had never associated with the beauties who were in the sororities.  She thought for a moment while I continued to jabber and dig my hole as deep as I was going to.  When she finally spoke, she told me she was in a sorority.  Back peddle. I think I was considerably more quiet the rest of the night. 

She was an amazing dancer and we enjoyed the dance so much, that I don't remember much of anything else that went on that night at the dance.  However, as part of the tradition, I need to point out that that same evening, one of Scott's former missionary companions drove 8 hours to meet Doll.  Since Doll & I danced the whole evening, he didn't have a chance & left for home with his tail between his legs.

I walked her to her car (the Rolls Royce) with her now ex-boyfriend now chauffeur.  She agreed to come visit me at the farm and meet my family.  It was a beginning and I thought she was nothing short of amazing.