But I Helped!

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If you were an elementary school student (or parent) in California, I have three words that will bring back memories for you: Fourth-grade missions. And if you don’t live in California, fourth grade is when you study California history.

Fourth grade was over twenty years ago so I don’t remember much other than the missions are a day’s walk apart. Don’t quote me, but I think they were built by Spanish monks.

Anyway, the big project in fourth grade was constructing a replica of a mission that was assigned by Mrs. Collins. I got Mission San Juan Capistrano. I had been there several times as it was in South Orange County, maybe an hour away.

Dad is very handy and loves things that require construction. Me, I couldn’t care less. Just as long as I got an A on my mission. How my teacher could believe that mine was built by a fourth grader I’ll never know. He (we, I mean) even used blue Saran Wrap in the fountain at the Mission’s entrance.

“Fortunately” for me, I cut myself with the Xacto knife, proof to Mrs. Collins that my beautiful mission wasn’t just Dad’s project.

But I remember the Xacto incident very clearly

I cut myself not helping Dad, but playing with the knife because I was bored. But Mrs. Collins didn’t have to know that.

Winter At Its Best

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Courtesy dannyboston.blogspot

  1. Wet dog (it stinks I know, but it means it’s actually raining in Southern California).
  2. The dusty aroma of the first time the heater clicks on for the season.
  3. The mintyness of Claritin (relief for my aching sinuses is on the way).
  4. Musty smell of the electric blanket.
  5. A Christmas tree lot (although we have a fake one now).
  6. Christmas cookies baking in the oven.
  7. Our family’s Christmas breakfast (chili eggs, which I don’t partake in. It’s overnight oatmeal for sisters, Mom, and I).
  8. Sometimes-stench of Maggie (her bed is right by mine. She only sleeps in it when it’s cold).
  9. The crispness of cold weather.
  10. The refreshing aroma the day after it rains.
  11. The wool of my cashmere throw that I have after my electric blanket is turned off.

As you’ve probably guessed, the eleven items above are smells of winter. My favorite smells of winter, at least. I’d love to hear your additions!

‘Tis Better To…

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Today is “Giving Tuesday.” In our culture of me, me, me, isn’t that refreshing? I bought a wheelchair, making a donation to Free Wheelchair Mission. I think it was $80. Not much money. And providing, someone with “new wheels” changes that person’s life, yes, but it changes their family’s life as well. It’s like a trickle down.

What’s neat about charity is any amount makes a difference. You can donate a million dollars to a hospital or play Free Rice, where for every answer you get right on games, ten grains of rice is donated to The World Food Programme. Ten grains of rice doesn’t seem like much but depending on how much you play, people in developing countries will get bowls of food!

See what I mean about any amount making a difference?

So, did I inspire you to participate in Giving Tuesday? I hope so!

Thanksgiving Part 2

For this post I’d like to thank the people at WordPress. The photo challenge prompt fit exactly with what I was going to talk about anyway.

You knew that the whole family was going to fly to Seattle to surprise my sister for Thanksgiving. Well, we’re back. The surprise worked perfectly, as you can see.

Thanksgiving was just a lazy day. We all watched “Intervention,” played Uno (which caused some salty language) ate a delicious turkey, and watched “Christmas Vacation,” a Tharp tradition.

Our Thanksgiving definitely strayed from the typical. It wasn’t a formal occasion, which is the norm for many. But all the people I love were together. It couldn’t be Thanksgiving without that.

Is It Summer Yet?

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Okay, maybe Southern California doesn’t get THIS cold, but it sure feels like it. Courtesy hercampus.com

This post comes with a warning. Readers in certain parts of the country, especially where you get snow and extreme weather, may be disgusted by what I am about to say. Read on at your own risk.

I am always cold. I don’t know why. Maybe because I am always in one position, but right now the thermostat is set at eighty-one and I have goosebumps! I love fall and winter. The crispness, the bright sky, the occasional rain. I love it all. From inside the warm house!

Last night was 49. I had two blankets. One of them being an electric one! In my defense, it wasn’t turned on, but that will come later.

If there is such a thing as reincarnation, please, God, make me come back as a lizard. I could scorch myself on a rock all day. My dream.

Wednesday we leave for Seattle to surprise Kelley for Thanksgiving. Fourties every day we are there. Mom has packed accordingly, but please wish me luck!

The Great Indoors

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Now this is my idea of a campground! Image courtesy of mappir.com

Luckily, we weren’t a camping family. Mom camped with my grandparents and uncle, when she was young, which I so wish I could have seen. Today, she is…let’s say…very indoorsy.

I don’t understand the whole camping culture. Mom goes to REI for things she needs for running, and they have everything for the camper: Tents, mosquito nets, sleeping bags. People do this for fun?! I sure have a different definition of “fun.” For me, it means sleeping in a hotel and not living off the land. Catching fish means retrieving a can of tuna that someone has tossed my way.

A slumber party favorite (heck with the slumber party, I just watched it a couple days ago) is “Troop Beverly Hills.” Now, that troop and I have similar ideas of “roughing it.” Or “glamping,” as I’ve recently heard it called.

 

Thanksgiving, Part 1

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Recently my youngest sister moved to Seattle, where her former boyfriend, now fiancé, got a job. That was part of the deal. She wouldn’t leave her family in Southern California without a ring. She is braver than I!

I’m writing this on Friday, November 11th. Tomorrow, the Tharp “girls,” which includes Mom and the three of us, are going wedding dress shopping.

On Sunday the whole family is gathering for “Thanksgiving dinner” since we won’t see Kelley on the real Thanksgiving. Kelley doesn’t know this, but the four of us are flying up to Seattle for the real Thanksgiving to surprise her. We’ll just have pizza, but we’ll be together. Isn’t that what Thanksgiving is about?

In conclusion, it is the tiny moments in life, like wedding dress shopping and Thanksgiving dinner, even if it means eating pizza, can be the most special. As long as your family is by your side.

Common Denominator

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This post’s inspiration came from the deacon of our church, who is very liberal. I can’t promise that this will be the last politically-based post, but at least the last for now.

I just have some thoughts. You know that I didn’t vote for president. I wasn’t going to vote for Hillary, but didn’t want Trump either, though I was rooting for him deep down.

Well, he won. I was so happy. Now, seeing the protesters and riots, They can’t give the guy a chance, I complained to Mom. She had a good point.

We didn’t exactly give Obama a chance.

My point is this: We are all Americans. We might have different ideas on how to do it, but isn’t doing the best for our country a common goal?  Maybe that’s easy for me to say now.  Maybe that’s how I should have felt–and acted–eight years ago.

“How’s My Hair?”

I only had one and a half semesters of high school of high school before I got sick, and those months are fuzzy (my memory gets bad as I near the time of my illness, so I will talk about junior high).

Ah, school dances. They defined your social standing. Although at 12 and 13 I had plenty of friends, some who were boys, I had no “boyfriend.” At the time, it was so disappointing. There was one boy that his friends came up to me and told me that he liked me. Although I secretly liked him, it was something that not even my best friend knew. I was too embarrassed. He was a poor student, overweight, and a face full of pimples. I had my pride.

Dances at Corona Fundamental Intermediate School dances were very casual. No fancy dresses, although there was primping and you had to change out of what you had worn at school. Not doing so was just uncouth.

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Courtesy Adverticia.com

When you got there, the gym/where we ate lunch when it rained was decked out with streamers and balloons that, since I was on the student council, I had help put up.

Junior high dances are extremely awkward. Usually girls on one side of the room, boys on the other. This dance lived up to the stereotype. Just the couples danced. The rest of us sat on the bench catching up on gossip.

The occasion was far from the glamorous afternoon we’d all envisioned.  No amount of primping—all that time crammed in front of the girls’ bathroom with hairbrushes and Bonnie Bell lip gloss and gasp, mascara wands in some hands—takes the awkward out of a school dance.

Over and Out

Again, I apologize.

It ends in less than 24 hours! There is a light at the end of the tunnel. The 2016 election just might go down as the most irksome (My feelings are stronger than that, but I had to use the word) in history. At least of my lifetime. Don’t you agree, worse than the whole “chad” mess in 2000?

I found this quiz on Buzzfeed, and it tells me that lots of people share my excitement for tomorrow.

Here’s the link.  Have fun!

https://www.buzzfeed.com/sallytamarkin/hold-me?utm_term=.yreVqDb0mZ#.oy67M4r9ow