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Monthly Archives:April 2006
April 13th, 2006 / Categories: Moose Nuggets /
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April 13th, 2006 / Categories: Moose Nuggets /
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April 12th, 2006 / Categories: Alaska /
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When’s the last time you did something just for the sheer fun of it?
Tonight we had a small get together at the local (small town) airport’s cafe. There were a dozen or so of us there – and then other folks, too. But our group seemed to have the most fun. We laughed (a lot) and ate (too much) and shared silliness.
And then . . .
we decided to share the wealth. You see, hubby Moose had bought a large box of 100 Grand candy bars and was passing out a hundred grand to the group. We had watched a (very) small (teeny-tiny) plane come in and then one of the regular commuters (not that much bigger, but it holds more people) came in.
Lessa and I looked at each other and grabbed one of the other women and then grabbed most of the left over candy bars and we ran to the gate. Whereupon we greeted each person who got off the plane with
Hi – welcome to Kenai!
We were, in turn, met by a lot of confused stares, but only a couple turned down the candy bars. Did I forget to say – CHOCOLATE?! 😉
You know, we live in a small town. My motto is “I live in Alaska, I make my own fun.” And tonight we just shared the love.
Until the candy ran out – and then we ran out before the last few people came through the gate. Didn’t want any hurt feelings.
Guess someone on the other side of the gate (probably waiting to board for Anchorage) was giving us (okay, Lessa said she was giving ME) weird looks. I think she just wanted a candy bar.
What do you think?
>..<
April 11th, 2006 / Categories: Moose Nuggets /
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Thursday challenge
now posting April 6 2006
Current Theme is “PATTERNS”
(Stripes, Tiger, Zebra, Spots, Leopard, Tiles, Snowflakes, Textiles, Polkadots, Floral, Paisley, Quilts, Carpets, Waves,…)
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April 11th, 2006 / Categories: Family /
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Dear Mom,
Your hands always fascinated me. You were artistic in ways I don’t think you even knew. You doodled stories out on rainy days – a line of verse or prose spoken for every line drawn – suddenly it was not longer lines or shapes, but a pig – a house! I was entranced by that ability.
Your hands comforted me. When I was sick you touched me and I was suddenly better. It is only in looking back that I remember how rough and reddened they were – how the blue veins popped up, and the translucence of your skin.
Back then, it was the touch, the heart behind the touch, that meant so much. We had a bond. Your hands touched mine – from date of birth (mine) until date of death (yours) as I begged you to tell me with a squeeze of your fingers that you knew who I was. My pleas unanswered, your hand lay limp in mine.
That night after you died I lay in my bed and I couldn’t remember if I had said “I love you” or “I’m sorry,” or begged your forgiveness for the times I caused you to raise your hands in anger more often than in praise.
I can’t go back – and you can’t come back – so I will pass my hands-on learning to my own girls and their babies and pray that it is enough.
Love carries on – your hand to mine to theirs to . . . .
With love,
your daughter
My Mom
April 11, 1918 – October 23, 1973
photo is of my Mom and me – taken 1950 in Ohio where I was born