Standing in the 747 Engine in Australia

I looked out the plate glass window at the 747
parked at the end of the jet way.
Mary said, "Look at the mechanic down in
that engine. He looks so small."
I looked down and saw him and he did look small.
Even with the nose of the plane almost to the window,
it was so darn long that the mechanic was hundreds of feet away.
My imagination took a quick spin of roughly
two dozen things that could go wrong with that engine
between Sydney Australia and Honolulu Hawaii.
I said, "You know what would be cool?"
Mary looked at me, and I continued.
"What if all fourteen of us got up in that engine for
a picture?" I looked at her twinkling blue eyes and big smile
and continued, "You know how nice they have been to us
this Christmas? They even chipped in for our dinner
because they knew how homesick we were."
Tall thin blond Andy said, "Go ask Gretchen."
I went down the jet-way to the outer stairs
and down the stairs to the tarmac.
"Excuse me" I said to the white-overalled mechanic
when he came down the ladder.
I cranked up my smile as high as it could go,
"I don't suppose we could go up for a photograph?"
He laughed in that sunny "No worries" Australian way.
"Sure lassie, go get your mates."
I ran yelling back to the crew,
"Hurry, hurry! He is going to take our picture in the engine!"
We climbed the ladder into the cowling and huddled together
and the mechanic snapped our picture.
As I stood there with a smile on my face
I did the mental calculations of our combined weight
and wondered what the stress limit on the bolts was.
1988

"Don't Embarrass Troy"

We were in the van on our way home
from Canyon Park Goutback Steakhouse.
Contrary to my New Year's resolution to
lose ten pounds, I was craving gout food.
Terry told me not to embarrass Troy
when we arrived at Dollar Tree for coconut water.
He got out of the van and walked to the window and
told me to peer in the window at our son working.
We had our faces on either side of the round
window decal advertising all the hot sale items.
So I did and he starts tapping on the glass until Troy saw us.
I was thinking, "In what world would this NOT embarrass our child?"
But I didn't say anything...
just peered in as instructed...

The Christmas Bookmark Tassel

I ran my fingers over the chimes
"Good afternoon class."
I said to the twenty first graders sitting
in the three long rows of tables in my library.
"Good afternoon Mrs. Nixon." They replied.
"Mrs. Kramer, the office manager ordered these cute
blank bookmarks for you to decorate for fun.
I'm going to show you how to make a tassel now.
Pick up the loop of yarn and loop it over your
pointer finger like this.
Now pull the knot down and say,
"Knot down, knot down, knot down."'
I looked at the little fingers with their knots down
and said, "Now stare at my finger so hard,
it catches fire and I explode!"
I pushed the end of the loop through the little hole
on the bookmark and pulled it so the bookmark
dangled in the middle.
"Now you need to pinch the loop and push it through the hole."
"Well done!"
"Look up and stare at my yarn so hard it catches on fire."
"Take your knot end and push it through the loop then
GENTLY pull on the knot and down on the bookmark."
Shouts of joy rang through the library as seventeen kids
made a lovely little tassel on their bookmarks.
"Go ahead and start decorating and remember what we
talked about last week. I want to see INTRICATE DESIGNS."
"I'll start the Jan Brett video in case you want to
learn how to draw a gingerbread baby, but you don't have to."
Three kids shouted, "I need help! I need help"
and much to my dismay one little boy was crying.
"I'm coming now to help you."
I got to Simon and patiently showed him where to put his yarn
and he quit crying and I sat the tissue box next to him and moved on.
I got up to Spenser and said, "You've almost got it! You just have to hold
your knot up and GENTLY pull down on your bookmark."
He slowly held the knot in his tiny fingers and pulled down
on the little white bookmark and the loop cinched up
with the tiny tassel in his hand.
A look of astonishment and delight split his face in half
with a smile as priceless as the magic of his childhood.

Christmas at the Pyle's in Bot hell 1982

JoAnn and I sat on the couch
drinking coffee and savoring
Nola's home made bread with butter.
"Keith! It's too tall!" Nola yelled
from the kitchen doorway at her husband.
The top was mashed along the ceiling and
bent over about three feet.
We just laughed as her parents argued
good-naturedly about how to fix the
Christmas tree.
"I have an idea!" Said Keith.
Ten minutes later we heard a roaring sound
coming from the front yard.
The front door burst open behind us
and Keith came into the living room
with his chainsaw blazing!
"I'll fix that puppy!" He shouted
over the engine.
"Keith! It's too short!" Nola yelled
from the kitchen doorway at her husband.
Now the tree was three feet tall.
JoAnn and I followed Keith to the garage
and we each rolled a tire around the front walk.
We rolled them through the living room
and stacked the three on top of each other.
"Keith! It's just right!" Nola yelled
from the kitchen doorway at her husband.
And it was.

Christmas in Beautyland

I could just make out the bottom of the blue jeans and boots
from deep inside the tree.
"Um, Carol, how many lights do you put on?"
It looked like she already had 20,000 stuffed in that
Christmas tree and she was only half way up!
"Oh, this one will only have three thousand,
the one in the living room will have more."
I had to stop and think.
How many lights did I toss on our tree at
home every year? I'm so lazy,
that when they invented the tree net in a
four by size foot size, I was thrilled.
Toss that on and you have 150 lights in
less than five minutes. I remember the box said
150 and I thought THAT was a lot.
My birthday was a week away so she was
getting this tree up November 4th or so...
"Do you need any help Carol?"
A voice deep inside the tree responded,
"Oh no Girly-Girl, I have a method.
When you come home next week,
all three trees will be done."
I stopped chewing my salad at that
and pondered if I knew ANYONE that put up
more than one tree. I have some pals
in Kookmore that are fairly Christmas crazy.
"That's nice Carol!" I yelled towards
the boots with the hope she could hear
me from deep inside the tree.

How many trees do you put up?

I Wished For Cake

A second grader asked me Wednesday if
I had a nice birthday Monday.
I asked her how she knew
and she said it was in the morning announcements.
I said, "Yes, I had a few hot fudge sundaes at restaurants
but I was craving a bite of cake."
I went to my teaching station and
as I was in the front of the room
teaching the lesson at the screen,
the cook, Angie, walked through the library
with a little red and white paper school dish thingy.
She waved it in the air and all I could think
was that it was odd she'd bring me French fries
since that is the only thing I've seen served in those.
I saw George, the custodian, making fresh coffee in my office
and when the kids left I made a beeline
for a cup of fresh, hot coffee and
looked over, and there was pumpkin cake.

Where Do I Live Again?!

I walked briskly to the corner of the the road,
looked around, and felt lost.
"Where do I live again?!" I thought to myself.
No blue trees, asteroid rock or Starbucks across the street.
When I had driven to Beautyland
that morning at seven AM to my crashpad,
it was pitch black out and I could barely find it.
When my new roommate let me in all I could think was,
"Martha Stewart DOES live here!"
I tried not to gape at the cathedral ceilings
and wall to wall antiques.
She was leaving for work and waved her hands around
in the air and said, "The kitchen's there
and dining room and I'll show you your room."
I kicked off my shoes and sank into the rug
and followed her up the quarter mile long staircase
thinking, "Oh yeah, I could get used to this..."
My room was on the front of the house
and she handed me a key and said,
"Make yourself at home girly-girl,
I'll see you at work."
So I did and couldn't help but compare
Beauty house to other crashpads I'd had.
The funky crashpad my buddybidder
Theresa and I had had in Greeley in 1989
or the pretty pantyhose jungle crashpad
I had in Diamond Head in 1988
with seven other flight attendants.
Carol left and I opened my wall-long closet
French doors and stared at the built in shelves
and thought, "What? No closet pole?"