Wanna Roomba?

My friend Terry went to spend the weekend with two of her grandchildren while her daughter Kara, and husband were out of town.  The kids were teenagers, so it was a pretty easy job.  

Terry slept in the master bedroom.  Upon going to bed the first night, she heard this purring motor kind of sound, but after listening to it for a few minutes, decided it was just a house sound. One of those things you get used to after living in a house awhile.  She went to bed and didn’t think anymore about it.  

She awoke suddenly to the sound again. Only this time....it was in the room !! Terry did not tell me anymore about the situation but, having been to the movies with her many times, I am sure there was screaming involved...probably lots of screaming. 

Terry discovered it was her daughter’s Roomba robotic vacuum cleaner.  Kara set it up to charge during the day and vacuum at night after everyone had gone to sleep.  Kara had forgotten to tell her mom it would be vacuuming at night....

With my border collie (BC), Skye.....vacuuming is an every day affair.  I vacuum up enough hair every day to start a new dog.  Skye thinks vacuuming IS a sport.  She dives at the vacuum and snaps at the front of it, and occasionaly snags it and picks it up....so in her puppy years I got in the habit of locking her in the bathroom when I vacuumed.  

I happened to see an ad on the “New Improved” Roomba, which reminded me of Kara vacuuming her house.  “New quieter, version, improved sensor to sense the animal hair and dust.”  How nice it would be to have my house vacuumed every single day, without me having to do it.   I checked on the price of the series 800......a whopping $699.  After seeing the price I gave up on the idea.

Fast forward a year.......

Through a friend, I happened to hear about a lady who was trying to sell an 800 series Roomba for half price, it had only been used once. I called her, she said it worked great but it just “Didn’t work out for her family”.  When I inquired further about its operation, once again she said, “It worked perfectly, but just didn’t work out for their family.”  Which I thought was an odd reason, but inquired no futher. She told me it was packed and in the box, just as it had been when purchased. 

When I got to her house she asked me if I had any pets.  I told her about my BC, she gave me kind of a startled  look and then said, “Well just keep all the packing and put it back in the box like it came, if it doesn’t work out for you.  I won’t cash your check until you call me.” I told her I would call in a day or so to tell her to cash the check. I headed home with my bargain, knowing full well it would be perfect for our family.

Once at home I set it up, docked it and waited for it to charge.  Skye watchED me carefully, but she wasn’t terribly curious. She was a dog, she had no idea what this thing even was.....it looked nothing like my old vacuum.  With my Roomba all set, I went to bed. 

I drifted off to sleep to be awakened suddenly by a crash and then vicious barking. I tore through the door, down the hall...there in my entry was an overturned lamp table, a lamp on the floor and the dog dancing and barking at the little Roomba, which was tightly cornered and beeping.  I put Skye in the bathroom....still barking, now clawing at the door, then I went back to the entry. I put Little Roomba back at her dock, cleaned up the broken light bulb, put the lamp back together again, set the lamp table back up and went back to bed.

Skye had settled down in the bathroom, and all was once again quiet.  Skye would get used to the little Roomba and she would be the dream appliance I had thought  she would be. I went back to bed.

But.....once again I was awakened by barking.  This time I could hear vicicous barking, from the bathroom.  Over the barking I could hear Little Roomba’s motor churning like she was stuck.  I tore out of our room and down the hall.  There was Little Roomba grinding and pulling. From under the bathroom door was a hairy arm.....a hairy dog arm with her claws firmly curled around the little Roomba, holding her to the wall, and all the while, barking as loud as a dog could bark.

Jim was wiped still out on his Parkinson’s meds, still sleeping and missing out on all the excitement.  By now, badly in need of sleep, I took the  little Roomba, turned her off, and simply left her on the table for the night.  Skye had pretty much done away with the paint on the inside of the bathroom door.  This time I locked her in the laundry room.  I was afraid if she saw Roomba, even turned off, it might set her off again.

The next morning, Jim asked how Roomba had done, I told him I was still working out the kinks.  After surveying the damage of the night before, I decided that since it was going to be warm tonight, Skye could sleep in the back yard.  I would give the little Roomba one more chance to do her magic on my floors. I painted the inside of the bathroom door and set Roomba on her dock to be ready for the evening.

What I didn’t think about was that our laundry room door to the outside is a French door, so Skye, even though she was outside, could still look in and see what was going on down the hallway.  When Roomba started to do her magic, Skye once again went crazy, this time outside.  I was once again awakened....but now by my phone, our neighbor ws calling, telling me our dog’s barking woke them up.

After painting the outside of the laundry room door, I packed Little Roomba back in her box with all the packing just like she had come, I felt like I was taking a pet to the pound. Then....I called the lady.....she had not cashed my check......I told her “Little Roomba just didn’t work out for our family.......either.”

My Father’s Patriots Month

Memorial Day in our family marked the beginning of what my dad called “Patriot’s Month.”  It included Memorial Day, DDay Invasion Anniverary on June 6th, Flag Day, June 14th and Independence Day, July 4th.  The flag flew on our front porch for that entire month.

Memorial Day
As I went through the pictures my dad had of WWII, I noticed a name and then an additional note, killed, a date and the location.  I know it was for those buddies he shed a tear, every time he said the Pledge, or heard the National Anthem. I would  see him bow his head, take off his glasses and wipe the tears away.  For many years I didn’t understand.  While in Luxembourg we went to the American Cemetery there.   As we walked through the gate, facing the graves was a line of men my father’s age, quietly kneeling with heads bowed.  Dad silently joined them.  I could not even imagine the horrors of war they had all experienced.

DDay, June 6th
I had heard stories about my dad, driving his Model T on the sidewalks, filling a guy’s gas tank with water and many more ornery stories.  That was not, however, the man who returned from the Army after WWII in the in fall of 1945.

Upon the bombing of Pearl Harbor, he and all young men he knew in Konawa, Oklahoma, went down to enlist in the Army.  Most of his friends were accepted, but weighing 145 lbs and being 6 feet tall, he was told to gain some weight and come back.  In the next few months people would spit on him and ask him,”Why didn't you go to war?”  In his frustration he went to his good friend, Roy Stevens, who he had worked for at the service station.  Roy knew someone on the draft board and he assured Dad he could get him into the Army, which he did.

Within a few months he was off to Basic Training.  He left thinking he would never return, since most who had left for WWI had never returned.  Knowing my dad, he must have thought that he was off on the greatest adventure of his life.  He had never been out of the state of Oklahoma and now he was off to see the world. The thing I most remember him saying about WWII was, “It was the best, worst experience of my life.”

Training in Ft. Benning Georgia.....Dad is the one looking back int he dark hat.  Mosquitos stories....

Omaha Beach, 1944.  The 455th Battalion went in on July 6, 1944, a month after the initial invasion but still under fire.

He told stories about “the” war every day of his life.    One story I remember was of his platoon finding a house, in  “U” shape connected to a barn on the river in Germany.  They asked the resident if they could stay in the barn.  The center of the “compound” had a huge pile of manure.  They went into the barn and started to check the place out.  While checking it out, Dad found a picture of the male resident of the house in a Nazi uniform.  They radioed for back-up, then took the man into custody. The man had defected from the Germans.  While in Germany I saw this house on the Mainz river that I imagined could have been the  same place, it wasn’t of course....but it piqued my imagination.

The U shaped house I saw in the Mainz River.

                                           The house.

The Barn.

 The windows on the house.

Flag Day
In 1973 my parents and I spent most of the summer touring Western Europe.  We had been traveling for several weeks and had just arrived in Rome.  As we drove to our hotel, the driver told us all to just sit tight, we would be held up in the bus for a few minutes.  There was a communist demonstration going on in the street that we had to wait to pass.  It wasn’t violent,  just lots of signs and shouting.  When it turned onto another street we went on our way.  As I turned to look out the front of the bus, the first thing I saw was the American flag flying in front of the American Embassy.  It struck me that I hadn’t seen the flag in several weeks, I got goosebumps and felt a lump in my throat.  At the same time I noticed the talking on the bus had stopped.  I looked around the bus....it seemed everyone had been stricken with the same emotion as me at seeing the flag.

July 4th
When we lived in Beaumont, the city park was on the Neches River.  The park was fenced to the river on each side.  There was one way in and out, under a little walking bridge.  The land, shaded with large oaks, sloped gently down to the river’s edge.   The city had a barge they docked in the river at the middle of the park.  On the barge was the Beaumont Symphony along with a choir made up of people from various churches and school choirs from all over town.  Around 4 PM the symphony would start to play.  Various people and ensembles sang and in the beauty of the moment, just about everyone joined in.  Virtually everyone in town came to the celebration.  We listened to music as the sun set behind us. As darkness descended the fireworks lit up the sky from across the river.  It was magic.  It was as close to being on the Charles River and listening to the Boston Pops was we could possibly get.

I think Dad had a great idea about his Patriot’s month.....so in his memory there will be bunting on my porch, and my flag will fly every day.....thanks Dad!

Things I know now that I am old.......

Things I know now that I’m old:

That confidence opens doors.  If I had only been confident enough to talk to that beautiful, popular girl in high school, I would have enjoyed a friend for life.  Fortunately I did talk to her at our 40 year reunion.....What a special friend Jere has become.

That when you lose your parents, no matter how old, you become an orphan. Being an orphan really sucks.

That being old is not really all that bad because wisdom trumps being thin.

That you don’t grow old alone, all your friends grow old along with you

That no matter how old you get, the people you went to school with stay young in your mind.

Your adult kids make mistakes and you have to let them.  Hopefully you will get to help them pick up the pieces.  And if they cut you off, it is their loss.

A little gray hair looks better with wrinkly skin..it just does.

That there will always be an 18 year old trapped inside you.

That if you drive with the top down on your convertible, you become 18 again, and if you wear big earrings, cool sunglasses and a baseball cap, guys will still whistle at you at the light.  YOU get the last laugh because only YOU know you are old enough to be their GRANDMOTHER!!

That feelings of love and passion just grow stronger with age.

Jesus loves us just the way we are.

When Did Common Sense Die?

The local fabric store, where I have been shopping for 15 years, has been remodeling.  I had avoided the place all spring.  I had a 50% off coupon today, so I ventured in.

In the past you picked out your fabric, waited in line at the cutting table until your turn, had the fabric cut,  paid and left.  So today I got the fabrics I wanted and stood at the cutting table.  The man who is usually there, was standing behind the table.  He continued to stand.....looking at me.  I said, “I want 1 yard of each of these fabrics.”  He said nothing and continued to stand looking at me.  I noticed another associate on the phone, and since the man has always seemed a little odd, I thought well maybe he isn’t working the cutting table.  I waited about 5 minutes.

In the meantime, two ladies came walking up.  The odd man said to them, “Take a number, “ Which they both did and he started cutting their fabric.  I was really irritated at this point, since there were no signs, and nothing had been said about there now being a “number” system.

When they left, he came to me and said, “I couldn’t cut your fabric because you had not taken a number.”  I looked at him amazed, and said,

“I was the only one at the cutting table. So I was obviously number one at that point.”  He pointed to the number and said,

“Well no, you would have to have a number and be number 38 in order for me to have cut your fabric.”

KaBlewy!!!!  Good thing I don’t carry a gun.

Sons

I have had the dubious reputation of being “Ferris Bueller’s Mother”.  My son has never let my life be boring.  Shortly after getting his driver’s license (before phones with cameras) he kept asking to borrow my camera.  “I don’t have film in it, but you can use it.”  Which he did, and returned it.  I didn’t think much of it until he proudly showed me pictures of his 1993 S10 Blazer airborne!
“What were yout thinking ?!?!?!” I screamed.
“Oh it was safe Mom, we were out at that sand pit...out of town.”
“I am not talking about where you were airborne!!!  I am talking about being airborne at all!!!!!”

That was just the beginning.  When he was 21, Austin had made it into the local police academy.  He was busy from morning until night, including many late nights studying.  One afternoon he came by fairly early in the afternoon. “ Hey Mom you want to go for a ride with me?”  Surprised and flattered I of course, said yes.
“Where are we going?" I asked.
“Oh I just have to go check something out for work.”
“The police department work?” I asked.
“Yeah, that work.”

I noticed we were heading toward an undesireable part of town.  “Do you have to talk to someone?”
“No I just have to find a house.  It is in this neighborhood that only has one way in and one way out.”
“That sounds kind of dangerous in this area.”
“It is.”
“So why again are you taking me here?”
“They told me to not go out here alone.....I am looking up a crack house.”
“A crack house??? And you are taking ME with you?”
“Well they told me not to go alone!”
“But I am sure they didn’t tell you to take your mother with you!”
“Just be cool Mom, look for this house number.”
“YOU look for it! YOU are the cop.”
“I am not supposed to look at the houses, that would be conspicuous...,”
“And me looking at the numbers would not be??? Let’s get out of here.”
“Got it, I know where it is.....”

We headed out of the neighborhood.  I was thoroughly unnerved.   "Why didn’t you wait and take Dad with you?"
“Mom, he is out of town I had to do it tonight......”
“Don’t you have any friends??????”
“Come on Mom,  I ‘ll take you to Sonic......

 I am sure the airborne picture is still in his wallet......

Daughters

Today discovered some very precious memories.  When my daughter was in college she found some cartoon cards with cats dressed up like cowboys and saloon girls.  My daughter and I are estranged.  She married a man who wanted our family out of her life.  We are.

I was taking pictures down in the guest room, rearranging for shutters to be hung.  It is decorated with cowboy things, rodeo posters and western things acquired over the years.  Four of those pictures were those cartoon cat pictures.  As I was taking them down, I remembered they were note cards with notes my daughter had sent me while she was in college.  What an incredible find.  As I took them apart I found a part of my life I had lost.



The first card she told me where she had found them....at an art fair.  They had reminded her of our crazy cats at the time.  (We always imagined those silly cats had a secret “people like” thought process.)  She said she had enjoyed the art fair and that this one of Miss Pearl and Shorty was her favorite.

In the second card she told me about the new phone she had gotten and some of the features it had.  This was when we had just started using cell phones and none of them were “smart”. She thought the new phone would help her with her job.  Plus, it had emergency features that included for $5.00 a month having her car unlocked at no charge....which back then was a pretty common occurrence.












On the third card she talked about a job she had gotten at the Fountainhead.  She is a professional writer and this was one of her first writing jobs, so she was very excited about it.  She thanked us for the new snow skis and said that all of her friends thought they were really pretty.
                                                   

The last note was short.  She was very busy but just wanted to say hi. She signed it, “I love you.” I had forgetten how special a short note can be, even if there is really nothing to say.  I touched the ink, looked at her handwriting, and remembered a time when she wanted to be a part of our lives.  I will treasure those notes....forever and always.