We sprang forward last nite (2 am today to be exact), giving back that hour we gained when we fell back in November. It is so easy to change the clocks around the house. My internal clock takes longer. For at least two weeks I translate the time in my head, you know, it’s 7:30, but it really is only 6:30 my brain says.
My brain also has trouble with the fact that tomorrow is the first day of spring. 6 feet of snow is not even trying to melt in my yard because the average temp is 36 degrees. I’m too bundled up in sweaters, and leggings under my jeans to even consider spring cleaning. Well, the house is filthy, so I consider it, but will not begin until I can do it in one layer of clothing.
A friend sent me this photo. She and I both know that this image captures a large part of me. Maybe this is my “inner child”. Yes. I arrange things “just so”, trying to be perfect, and always forgetting one thing. Or more.
Someone needs to tell the weather it is time to warm up.
If you have an image that captures your inner child, please share by replying to this post.
Not many of us are Olympic medalists or Nobel Peace Prize winners. This does not mean we cannot be proud of our accomplishments. I’m not talking about the pride before a fall kind of proud. It is certainly not the “I’m better than you!” sort of pride we see all too often these days. It is not a showing off, competing for attention, or vain pride.
No matter how silly or insignificant they may seem compared to those celebrated by the media, each of us accomplishes things we are proud of. We may not even be aware when we do them, but a memory of something brings it up in your mind and puts a smile on your face.
If you took a minute or two and thought about the little victories and accomplishments you feel good about, I bet you could write a list of them.
My List:
See the Poster on the Right ->
I am growing avocado trees from seeds
I was inches close to kicking a field goal at Candlestick Park
I was “Vanna Bee” when my hubby taught a grade school class about Bees.
None of the above would get me any kudos or recognition. This is fine with me. I did them because I chose to, and in that sense, that also makes me proud of myself.
There are no photos of me kicking or being Vanna because I was busy at the time… Apparently, no one else in my family can take photos.
My family was of modest means, so vacations & trips meant the car, not jets. Most of our vacations were to visit family across the USA – many miles between the SF Bay Area and West Virginia. My mom’s people were in WV, and along the way, we visited my dad’s people in Kansas, St. Louis, and Minnesota. So many memories!
The most memorable road trip, hands down, was the Big Mother’s Day Weekend Road Trip. This trip was HUGE for me because it was the first time I drove a long distance. Fears of getting lost or stranded were abated by “Tom,” the GPS, and having my daughter with me, who actually inherited a sense of direction from someone in the family, not me. It was also HUGE for me to head down the road with my daughter and her daughter to visit my mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, respectively.
The only witnesses to my wrong turns and oops moments were my girls. And Tom. No husbands to make fun of us or unwanted suggestions. Just us girls!
We were only out of the driveway 10 seconds when Tom hollered at us, “Turn the car around!” He was speaking with a Caribbean accent which made him sound panicky. I assured my passengers that Tom just wanted to take a different route to the freeway and he would re-calculate and adjust. I thought.
Caribbean Tom was more stubborn than the other Toms we had guiding us. My daughter picked out Darth Vader Tom, who was cool once we got used to his voice. If he had to recalculate because I ignored him, he would get grumpy – “I find your lack of faith disturbing.”
A small “oooh,” came from the back seat. Even a three-year-old knew we had done something wrong. To try and reassure her, I said, “He’ll get over it.” We all realized how stupid that statement was two seconds later when we drove into the rest area.
Tears were rolling down my face. I was laughing so hard that I could not look at either of my girls. They could hustle faster than I, so they were peeing when I got there. I’m happy to say that we all made it with dry underwear.
After we stretched our legs and got snax out of the vending machine, we were back on Interstate 5 (I-5). If you travel from Northern to Southern California, you can drive almost straight there on I-5. Less chance of getting lost but more chance of falling asleep.
The town of Coalinga will keep you awake with its smell. Its nickname is “cow linger.” We were thankful Mother’s Day was in May and not August.
After leaving Darth Vader at the rest area, we let my granddaughter choose the next Tom to guide us. She liked Carl from the movie, “Sling Blade.” Uh Huh. For some reason, the trip seemed longer, with Carl leading us. Since we only had an hour left on the trip, we listened to happy giggling from the back seat. Carl guided us to my mom’s condo in Laguna Niguel with no trouble. Instead of saying, “you have reached your destination,” like the other guys, Carl says, “You’re here now. Hope nobody’s dead.”
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