This won’t matter to you, probably, but this is my first post with WordPress. It looks very different from Blogger, and I hope it’s more readable and enjoyable to you. I’m still learning the site and will be learning for a long time, so please be patient with me! In the meantime, drop me a comment or message or word or something and let me know what you think!
I had a lot of boyfriends in elementary school. You weren’t “cool” if you weren’t “going” with someone. Chasing each other on the playground and writing notes to each other was basically the extent of the relationship. We dared not hold hands or exchange kisses for fear of cooties. Boys and girls weren’t supposed to like each other, after all.
I remember a few, and I’ll just give their initials so they won’t die of embarrassment if by some weird chance they were to read this. I remember liking a boy in preschool who rode on the bus with me, all giggles and bouncing in the back seat from bumps in the road. That’s really all I remember about him, except in later grades we never really talked to each other. Our interests diverged, I suppose, as did our group of friends. MD played tuba in the band as I recall, and I played flute. In high school he became a goat-roper (cowboy) while I was just a nerd.
My first (or maybe second) grade boyfriend was actually in my swimming class in the summer. It’s hard to recall anything except that we chased each other on the playground during recess. I don’t think that relationship lasted very long. Go figure. Two seven-year-olds. He did come by my workplace while I was in college and ask me if I was interested in sharing an apartment! There was also another boy that pestered me so much everyone thought he was my boyfriend but he wasn’t. He was pretty much the class goof-off. Sadly, JW passed away at a young age.
The next beau I recall is DC in fourth grade. I do remember writing notes with him, notes that consisted of “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” If he checked yes, then you were going together. He sat behind me in class and was a Cub Scout. He wore the cool blue shirt and gold scarf to school one day a week. I seem to remember he smiled a lot. Probably still does. I do know he is still married to his high school sweetheart and has a beautiful family.
That’s pretty much it. I guess there really weren’t a lot. I don’t recall any boyfriends in fifth or sixth grade. My parents never had to worry about setting a dating age for me, because no one ever asked me until I was a junior in high school. That’s me, number one nerd. I was too smart for boys to like me.
That’s okay, though. I wound up with the best of the bunch. JC and I have been together over 40 years, and I don’t have to chase him around the playground.
How about you? Did you have boyfriends or girlfriends in elementary school?
Stay safe and well.
Maybe no one has dared to utter those words, at least in print or publicly, but there they are. Don’t you agree? Here in the U.S., we have certain customs we follow when someone dies. I’m sure they all, like Christmas traditions, have their origins and seem reasonable to most, but nowadays you have to wonder. Should the usual traditions and customs be followed during a pandemic?
Because they’re not. Many are not holding traditional funerals; many are holding memorial services, and many times the service is held weeks or even months after the death. Fewer people are attending funeral services these days, for fear of catching or spreading the coronavirus, and those who do attend wear masks.
My father-in-law recently passed away, and my mother-in-law honored his wishes by having him cremated, but she decided at the last minute to donate his body to science, in hopes that research into dementia like his could help someone in the future. An honorable and noble decision, in my opinion. She filled out the proper paperwork, the university picked up the remains, and ashes may be returned to her when the work at the university medical school is complete.
So there was no need for a casket, no need for viewing, no need for graveside service, no need for interment. Most of the immediate family attended the simple memorial service with a handful of friends and relatives, and there were two speakers and a couple of songs, and the service was over.
Family received the guests and then convened at my mother-in-law’s home where we visited for awhile and then left. It was odd. No food was brought to the house, no food was served after the service, and no flowers were delivered.
Still, I believe my father-in-law was honored, and my mother-in-law was provided closure after months and months of caregiving. This pared-down version of a funeral seemed to make more sense to me. Maybe the traditions of visitation, viewing the body in a casket, and going to the cemetery help to provide closure for many, but this simple memorial service was a good substitute.
Goodbye, Jerry. We love you. May you rest in peace with God.
Have you attended a funeral or memorial service during the pandemic? Please share your experience. I would love to hear about it.
I’m sitting here at my desk trying to think of something to write about. I could just skip the blog post this week and go to bed. Or work on my novel-in-progress. But that would be a cop-out. The best remedy for writer’s block (I’d rather call it a lack of ideas) is to keep writing. Or so I’ve heard. And read.
Just start typing and the words will come, they say. Apply the seat of your pants to the seat of the chair, they say. Be a professional, they say. Write something, anything, they say. The words will come, they say.
Of course I want to be a professional. Isn’t that the opposite of amateur? Or wannabe? I’m a writer, dang it. So here I sit. Maybe I’ll come up with something and maybe someone will read it. Maybe someone will like it even.
|Stella the Boston terrier|
I have a sidekick who stays here in my office with me while I write. It’s late right now and she has given up whining at me to go to bed, so she’s curled up on her gray and pink plaid dog bed (thanks, Muttnation by Miranda Lambert!). She hardly ever leaves my side, and when I’m watching my grandkids with my mother next door, she stands at the fence and stares at me until she is forced to go inside because of the heat.
This photo was taken this morning as I wrote in my prayer journal. Notice she has her favorite ball on the windowsill as she looks for squirrels, birds, and rabbits. It’s her favorite perch.
See? I’ve written a whole blog post without really having an idea. It’s possible to write even without a good idea. Now to see if anyone will read it. If you’re a writer, happy writing. If you’re a reader, thank you!
Have a blessed week.
I was dismayed to find that many of the fireworks displays in my area had been canceled due to concerns about the spread of COVID-19. Not that I would attend the big ones in the towns around here, but I at least would have had that option. I realize that our nation’s birthday happens with or without fireworks, but it just doesn’t seem the same without them.
I had settled down with hubby in front of the TV to watch Macy’s Fourth of July celebration when I heard a big boom outside. We have some neighbors who have been known to shoot off fireworks during holidays, but the trees usually cover them up. Still, I had to investigate. I sprang from my chair with Stella the Boston terrier on my heels. We had to see what was going on.
To my utter surprise and delight, my next door neighbors were shooting off those big fireworks like the cities do! I texted my mother who lives next door on the other side and she picked me up in my dad’s golf cart so we could drive across the road to watch the fireworks.
It wasn’t a big public event and there weren’t scores of people sitting on blankets or tailgating, but there were fireworks and we got to see them. What could be better than having big fireworks at your next door neighbors? I didn’t even have to bring a covered dish or dessert.
So, thank you, Turner family, for rescuing Independence Day for our quiet country neighborhood. I’m sticking my tongue out at you, COVID 19. You tried but you didn’t stop it.
Maybe 2021 will be different, but I wouldn’t give anything for the lessons 2020 has taught me thus far. That sounds like good material for another blog post.
I hope you had a safe and happy Fourth of July without a visit from the unwelcome coronavirus. Here’s to the Red, White, and Blue!