My Parents: A Love Story

Last week I stumbled across a website called "The Burning House," consisting of photographs of  material items people would grab if their homes were on fire. On the spot, I could think of very few items to put in my own photo, but with a week under my belt, I realized that I'd grab my father's jewelry box. Not because it's full of rubies and emeralds and pearls...mind you, there's something more valuable, to me, in that box. When I cleaned out Mom's house, this was high on my list of things to find, and take with me:

An old wallet, with $1 tucked inside.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My Mom and Dad married in 1962, in San Diego, California, where he was stationed in the navy. He used to drive her crazy by telling people that he was just walking down the sidewalk when my mother, standing on a street corner, yelled "Hey, Sailor." If you knew how prim and proper my mother was, you'd know that it would embarrass her every time, and she'd insist he tell the real story: They were dance skaters; they met at the roller rink.

A funny story that really happened is that he invited her to skate with him repeatedly at the "Couple's Only" song. Ladies' Choice wasn't called very often back in 1961, but when it finally rolled around, Dad was stunned when Mom invited another guy to skate with her. Mom would giggle for years after, when telling us the story, saying "I don't know why I did that!"

I guess her playing hard-to-get worked, because they married within 2 months of meeting one another at that rink.

One of the stories they told us often, about their young love, pertains to the wallet above. Mom wasn't working, and Dad didn't make a bundle serving for the Navy, so they were often broke when the end of the month rolled around. Dad would hock his skates in a pawn shop on a regular basis, and then return to buy them back when he got paid.

There was one particular month in which they were just out—out of money and out of food—and facing a long Sunday with neither. They'd make it another day, when Dad got paid, but the story goes they were starving by mid day. So hungry, we were told, that one of them finally said "Let's just go take a walk so we'll stop thinking about it."

Hand-in-hand they hit the sidewalk to get their minds off of their hunger, when—maybe you've  guessed it by now—they found this wallet. It had $3 and no I.D. in it!! Oh, the hugging and rejoicing, once they overcame their disbelief!

This is my Mom's handwriting, slipped in the wallet now, with the $1 bill. They opted to get a bowl of chili and go to a movie with their new riches—which they could both do for less than $2. I wondered if that could possibly true, and did a little research on the 1961 prices. Here's a menu I found online:

The soup du jour costs .20 and .30. A movie ticket seems to be running about .50, and I wonder if it was even cheaper on the naval base. According to the note, they spent $1.90 on their impromptu date, and had $1 left over.

The $1 in the wallet now is that same dollar. They made a vow to each other to tuck the wallet away, thus ensuring that together they would never again have a net worth of less than one dollar.

This story was always told to my sister and I with the closing point that if you love one another, you're going to get by. That you can be happy with a little money, and a lot of laughter. That life might get tough, sometimes, but love will see you through.

The wallet, and the dollar, and the story that accompany it, are precious to me. It's a reminder of their lifelong love for one another, and for me and Teri. It's reinforcement of the lessons they taught us about what is and what is not important in life. And now that it is mine, it is insurance that I will also, never, have less than one dollar.

Under My Skin

I heard on the news this morning that today is the 1-year anniversary of the last military combat brigade coming home from Iraq. Yeah, I had a grump over that a year ago, when I wrote this post, entitled "Last Brigade Home? Can I have a Word, Please?" Feel free to have another look.

I grumble there because of the media/government spin on that event. As the world celebrated, my kid was still in Iraq, with the 3rd Heavy Brigade Combat Team-3ID.

They returned home on September 27, 2010, and 3 months later, in January 2011, he was shipped back to the National Training Center in Fort Irwin in California to began training, again, to deploy to Iraq. With a Combat Brigade. 

It was a month-long school, and they returned to Texas for further training, more practice—day practice, and night practice, in-the-hot-sun practice and pouring-rain-until-midnight practice. Five more months they trained and practiced, until their deployment date, in July.

They weren't practicing yard work, people. They weren't practicing cake-baking, or sewing, or changing tires. They were practicing spotting the enemy. Markmanship. Looking for roadside bombs. Staying alert under exhaustion, and keeping an eye out 360 degrees around them. Using equipment and radios and communicating with one another to save each others lives, and their own. They were practicing and training in combat.

There isn't a lot that has me walking around spitting nails, but the spin on this morning's news grates on me. Brian accompanied over 600 soldiers to their flight a few weeks ago, and 600 more the next day. Combat troops, they were. Do we pretend they're not there?!


Rawrf! I just did you a big favor and deleted 4 more paragraphs of ranting. I'll wander off to another like subject instead.

*****************

In the end, as I mentioned here before, Brian was granted his 1-year dwell time, and he did not deploy. He is instead going to school after school. He just finished a Warrior Leader Course, and is training now for an Air Assault school in October. Yesterday he had to do a 12-mile ruck march with only 40 lbs of gear on his back. He skipped the advice to wear pantyhose, and here's a photo of his (right, I think) thigh, as a result:

He has a matching left thigh, and today had more physical testing, this time a series of obstacle courses and repelling from towers. He was going to be an uncomfy boy. After my first question ("Can can I blog your thigh?"), I informed him that there's a product called BodyGlide, sort of like a deodorant stick, that is supposed to prevent this chafing. I picked one up at Body 'n Sole today, and popped it in the mail, then sent him this text:

God, my kid makes me laugh. The BodyGlide will be too little too late, but at least he'll have it next time he needs it. And there's always pantyhose.

***********

Oh, wait--ANOTHER thing that grumbles me a little bit, while I'm the subject of my soldier babies. People, this is a trauma bay that looks like most any other trauma bay in Any Hospital, U.S.A.:

And this is one that one of our soldier babies, Jerrica, just posted recently. This is the trauma bay she works in, right now, every day, in Iraq. 

Which one would you choose for your loved one to be treated in, if she or he had a traumatic injury?

I understand our troops aren't living in the lap of luxury when they deploy, but I still often panic when I get a clearer sense of what they have to work with.

Sigh. As always, dear reader, if you're interested in sending a care package to a soldier, email me at ljstewart@gmail.com.

Impatiens Motivations: Drink Your Water

I've been making a haphazard attempt, lately, to take better care of myself. Not sure why it can seem more difficult on some days than on others, or why I have a tendency to fall by the wayside when I feel so high & mighty when I'm doin' it right and have results to show for it.

Anyway, while I'm getting up the umph to cut up vegetables, I do have a daily motivator that keeps me on track with my 8 glasses of water: My own flower bed. My impatiens, in particular, are little drama queens if a day gets by me that I forget to water them:

This photo (above) is the sorry state I found them after one of those 106-degree heat index days we had recently. Everyone in central Illinois felt kind of like this for about 2 weeks.

I apologized profusely, gave them a good long soaking, then returned later for another picture. This is the same plant, 30 minutes later:

I imagine water probably does the same thing for me as it does those flowers: makes me stand a little taller, plumps out the wilty lines and wrinkles, and, in general, makes me bloom a little brighter.

Now if I could just find a blossom that will motivate me to haul myself out of bed and go walking at 5 a.m. every morning, I'd be set.

Benefit for Seth Deedrick Medical Bills: Sunday August 14

You may or may not know that my father was a biker in his golden years. When he passed away, his Harley brothers all showed up to the funeral and escorted the procession 45 miles to the cemetery. This photo was taken from the back of my car that day.

 

Brothers and sisters. And nieces...front and left, is my cousin, Tammy Deedrick. She and Dad were close, and she was first biker in the procession. Because family does.

And now it's time for us to do. Tammy's 11-year-old son, Seth Deedrick, had heart surgery last Saturday. There were complications with a mytral valve replacement, and he ended up coming home with a shiny new pacemaker.

As you can imagine, it's been a stressful time. Seth showed up for surgical prep a few weeks ago, and his surgery was postponed. Nothing like getting a kid—and his Mom, for heck sake—along with all of the community all stressed out and then postponing! As luck would have it, they ran into this group of soldiers from the U.S. Air Force when they got back to the hotel, and they all gathered around for this photo. Tammy asked that if I posted this photo on my blog, I tell those guys thank you, and God Bless.

As we are all aware, medical expenses of any sort are exorbitant, and we're rallying to alleviate those costs for the Deedrick family. There's a big-big fund-raising party this Sunday at The Stop, on North 45 in Urbana to raise some bucks to help them out. There will be a motorcycle rodeo, music, food, fun, and a donation jar. Please come on out, whether you have 5 bucks or 10 or 50...every little bit counts.

Benefit for Seth Deedrick Medical Bills

Sunday, August 14, 2011

12:00 -9:00 p.m.

The Stop Bar & Grill

3515 N. Cunningham Avenue

Urbana, IL 61801

Motorcycle rodeo

Food

Live music, featuring Renegade, Triple OT Buck, and AD/HD

Seth is recovering well, and we're hoping that he'll be able to make a short appearance sometime Sunday afternoon.

Blogging Pendulum

I've horked it up here before: I started my blog in 2005 with whimsy and one-liners, and progressed to wearing my heart in my posts when my son enlisted. Then life got serious for a few years (it's all there in the archives). That, coupled with the convenience of Facebook, I, along with a lot of blogging friends, have kind of let the blog go. 12 posts a month have dwindled to one, if I'm industrious.

I have lately been thrilled to see several fellow bloggers returning to their posts. The pendulum seems to be swinging back from the "tag, you're it!" instant commentary and gratification to something deeper, and more thoughtful. Many of mine are wandering back to where they left off, or starting their blogs anew, once again.

I love it. Talent has been wasted, and I've missed the insights and updates from so many smart, charming, and funny people.

There's been a bit of a reprieve in my own life. The clouds are lifting. I've taken a few months to learn to breath again, and I'm beginning to get in on the "I miss my Blog" revolution.

I have never stopped carrying a camera with me. I take photos almost every day. There is so much out there, so many interesting people, and signs, and scenes. I have more to say than can be said once every 30 days, and I realize that not everything has to be prolific and gut-wrenching.

I think I'm ready to restore dance and whimsy to my life, and to my blog.

So here's a chipmunk.

I'll be back in a few.

New friends and local organic business: The Grape Vine Florist

Clint and I were heading home from camping yesterday, when my phone finally received a signal, and this message from Gamera dinged in:

Some friends of mine are trying to start up a *very* small flower business. They grow them in their own garden and they were hoping to give a bouquet to a local blogger so they could blog about the arrangement and I thought you might be perfect.

Let me see...a Sunday afternoon adventure, meeting new friends, and a free bouquet...ahhh, you already know what my answer was. I made a 4:00 appointment to meet Matt and Beth Starks.

4:00, right? So, at 3:55, Daphne, the Starks' family shih-tzu, escaped and Beth and one son took off to chase her around the neighborhood. They returned to find blood on the floor, Matt holding an ice bag to his face, and son #2 exclaiming: "Dad broke his nose!"

And THAT is how I met the Starks family.

I'm pretty sure this isn't the story they had in mind in exchange for a bouquet, but really, could you resist?

The real story is an amazing one, so let's move on, shall we?

For the last couple of years, Beth and Matt have spent countless hours transforming their front yard into a vegetable garden. This year, in pursuit of a dream, they split the space, turned one-half of it into a gorgeous flower garden, and have started their own business: The Grape Vine Florist.

This is not a spur-of-the-moment endeavor. Beth worked as a florist for several years when she was in school, and has always dreamed of owning and operating her own floral business. Matt went through a Master Gardening training course 6 years ago, and together they are finally taking their first steps towards turning their hard work and knowledge into a bona fide business.

They gave me a tour of both gardens (yes, broken nose, ice bag, and all!) and some more in the back yard. They invited me in to meet their children, and show off a few of Beth's gorgeous bouquets. One was complex and colorful, with several varieties of wildflowers, and one simple and gorgeous, a glass vase of sunflowers, making their very own statement without accessories.

I spent less than an hour with them, but it was all I needed to see that Beth and Matt are forces of nature. In addition to holding down full time jobs, taking care of their children and home, working in the garden and launching The Grape Vine, Beth makes and sells her own greeting cards here: Stamped Expressions...

...and Matt has spent a fair amount of time teaching himself digital and video trades. He has, I quote, "gotten mediocre at an impressive number of separate skills."

Better than mediocre, I'd say; check out the promotional video he created for the new business:

The video sums it up all very well: They're small, local, organic, and seasonal.

There are only about 5 or 6 weeks left of blooming and harvesting left for this season at The Grape Vine Florist, so if you're in the market, or will be in that time, contact Beth and Matt as soon as possible at:

thegrapevineflorist@gmail.com

Or check out their ordering information here: http://thegrapevineflorist.com/want-to-order/

If you're not immediately in the market for a fresh bouquet of flowers, bookmark them anyway. Who among us hasn't dreamed of doing our own thing, but balked at following through? Here's a couple—a family—that's going for it, and I for one will be watching their website, their blog, and their progress, whooping and cheering them every step of the way.

Before I forget, I have to tell you:
those sunflowers look really great in my kitchen!

Thanks, Beth and Matt for the invitation, the flowers, and for sharing your story with me in the midst of keeping an ice pack full.

They Keep Going, and Going...

My soldier babies, that is. Word is that they're all coming home, but they keep going and going and going to Iraq and Afghanistan.

Jerrica, one of my first Toys for Troops supporters, is waiting in Kuwait in 121-degree heat to begin her second tour in Iraq. Pictured on the right, she told me in a quick Facebook chat today that she can't wait to get home.

I attended a going away party for my friend Laura's son, Maxwell, a few months ago.

 He's serving in Afghanistan right now.

• A California friend added 30 to my mailing list in April.
• A young friend in ROTC has given me a few more addresses.
• One officer has 27 guys that would like beanie babies.
• I received a letter today from another in Afghanistan that works in an area that has 8000 kids. They swarm him every day for toys.

Brian worked the airport at the base last night, sending off 600 of his, to Iraq. The mood was grim, he said, because "by morning they'll be in Germany and Kuwait." He sent me photos throughout the evening. The first read: "I do not miss this."

And this one, with the message: "He's writing a letter to his wife. Old school."

A few more, of them waiting, and this one, with a text: "Prayer."

And finally, this one.

1 army base.  1 evening. 2 planes. 600 soldiers. Away from home for 1 year.

At this point, Brian is still using his "Dwell Time," finally fully granted. There's a chance he will not deploy after all, this year, and maybe for the next. It's almost too much for me to believe. I talked to him this morning, and he admitted that last night was a tough night. "There was a lot of emotion in the room," he told me.

There's a pit in my stomach, because I know this. I know there's been a final goodbye. I know cell phones still allow some contact, some last minute I love yous, and text messages read "still waiting," "heading for the plane," and "will be in touch ASAP."  I know the phones will then probably be put away for the next year, and the next word will come from Germany, through email and Facebook. It might be tomorrow. It might be a couple of days.

And, with a sudden sense of panic, I know I have to get busy.

I got soldier babies overseas, and I got some motherin' to do.

Photo Dump Day I: Signs, Signs, Everywhere a Sign

My photo dump folder is filling up faster than usual these days, due, I think, to the recent acquisition of my new iPhone. Little gets by me now that I am a double-fisted photographer!

Since this month's folder had quite a few photos of scribbling and signs in it, I pulled a few out of the archives to round out a post and make a right-proper montage. Here goes:

1. If you do leave the pumps unattended,...

...someone might scribble all over your gas pump.

_______________

2. Tide is on sale at Menards...

 

Not exactly a bargain when you compare the every-day price below:

Who's singing the "Save Big Money" jingle with me now?

_______________

3. Sign on the door of a small shop in Cripple Creek, Colorado:

And another, in Cripple Creek. I'm thinking those shops had a rash of women wearing fall-down shoes, and collectively decided to take a stand:

_______________

4. This is ridiculous, pregnant mothers getting the front parking spot! What they should do is give it to mothers of newborn infants, that's when the going gets tough! Schlepping around a baby carrier of some kind, her purse and now a diaper bag, and then keeping track of bottles and pacifiers. Oh, and the baby, who's screaming his poor head off because they ran out of formula! Lord, that is the woman that deserves the front parking space. And give it to the new fathers, too; they're all exhausted!

_______________

5. In Hannibal, Missouri:

Mmmm, mouth-watering frames.

_______________

6. Welcome the Hannibal Visitor's Bureau. It's time for you to go now.

_______________

7. Can you read the fine print on the back of the propane truck that was in front of me at a stoplight last week?

So polite.

_______________

8. Clint and I were lured in here after a long day of trekking the streets of Chicago last fall:

 

Who could turn down such a catchy name?! Not us, that's who. We were greeted and escorted to our table by a beautiful golden lab. How fun!

_______________

9. A booth at the Pork & Apple Festival—or is it Apple & Pork? No matter. So naughty.

_______________

10. And last, when down to my last frazzled nerve while troubleshooting on my netbook, Windows had ONE more suggestion:

See that, right in the middle? You can try getting help from a friend! Because we just don't know what else to do! Try calling Diane! See what she says! Or go find Clint, get his advice! Brilliant! Thank you Windows! I'll do that!


This concludes Sign Dump. I'll start fiddling with the leftover photos for the next post, all of them every bit as engaging as these were.

Ciao, friends!

Zappos Rocks!

Remember my post about how I fell off of my Naot Treasures shoes twice in one night?

I have developed PTSD from that footwear. Think of the scene in Rainman when Raymond panics at the hot water running in the tub: "Very bad! Very bad! Water burn baby!" Same thing for me, only my internal reaction at the sight of any high-heeled platform or wedgie-style shoe: 

"Fall-down shoes! Very bad, very bad! Fall down! Aurghhhhhhhhhhh!"

At the time I didn't have the heart to reveal what paid for those shoes that almost killed me. I'll tell you now. Are you ready? I ordered them from Zappos.com for:

$156.00

!!! I know. Mind you, it's not that they were overpriced; it's just what this particular shoe costs anywhere you go. Still, in the past I've pranced merrily about in $4 flip-flops. $156.00 shoes was a huge decision, and I get nauseous every time I think about wasting that kind of lettuce. (Lettuce = Street slang for money. Because Street is how I roll, peeps.)

My friend Liz implored me to try to return the shoes. I resisted—I didn't have the receipt or packaging, and not only had I worn the shoes, but I'd (ahem) scuffed them up a bit in the two weeks I wore them before sending them into retirement.

She was convincing though, and finally talked me into throwing myself at the mercy of Zappos' customer service department. I sent them a link to the fall-down blog, and begged them to read it.

Here's the letter I got back:

Hey Laura!

Thank you for contacting the Zappos Customer Loyalty Team with that very entertaining email! I loved it!

I am so sorry to hear about your mishaps with your Naot shoes! I read the blog and was thoroughly entertained but also a bit upset at the idea of you falling down due to your recent Zappos purchase.

Since you are such a great Zappos customer, and are not normally a "fally-down" person, I would be happy to make a one time exception and allow you to return your shoes for a full refund!

[Shipping instructions, free UPS label emailed to me.] 

Thank you for your continued loyalty to Zappos! I hope your ankle feels better! Let us know if you have any further questions or if there is anything else we can do for you.

Have a great day,
Big Andy
Customer Loyalty Representative
Zappos.com

Yes!! Big Andy credited all of my money back! Big Andy rocks! Zappos rocks! Money back rocks! New shoes rock! Liz rocks! Dancy-dancy-dance!

Have you ever ordered shoes from Zappos.com? Here's what happens:

1. Go to www.zappos.com, pick out some pretty shoes.

2. Order Shoes.

3. Close laptop.

4. Close eyes for 10 seconds.

5. Open eyes. See shoes.

I'm only barely exaggerating: Yesterday afternoon I used my shoe credit to order a pair of shoes, and they have been already been delivered to my house! I've had friends that ordered shoes at 10 p.m., and had them on their feet by 10 a.m. the next morning.

There can be no other explanation: It's magic.


And this, my friends, is how good companies keep their customers. Not that Zappos would have lost me as a customer; I've had amazing service from them for years, buying my own shoes and Mom's shoes there. I've returned a few that didn't fit right, always with no problems and at their expense.

The amazing thing about this return is that my issues with this particular pair of shoes was my own. Zappos was more than gracious to comp me when they were never at fault. See, Zappos gets it. They get that if they take good care of their customers, said customers will keep coming back. They'll gush about it to friends, and on facebook, and ::cough:: on their blogs.

They're funny, too. I made one phone call to discuss the reimbursement. You know the press #1 for this, and  #2 for that? Well, there's a press #5 for The Joke of the Day.

Of course I pressed #5. No spoiler here, if you want to find out the joke of the day, you'll have to call them yourself.

By the way, would you like to see the shoes that were delivered to my door today? Here they are, Jambu Odyssey:

, 

Cute, huh! Nice and low with safety straps on them, I think we're going to make a fine couple, me and my Jambus.

Thank you, thank you Big Andy and Zappos. You've made a customer for life!