Five Things You Would Like Back

    

       Would you have an answer for me if I ask you to name five things that you have lost or given away that you can never get back?  I really want some feedback on this one; I hope if you read this, you will give me some. 

      I don’t have a lot of regrets or “wish I would haves”, I really don’t. I have always lived on the edge pretty much, trying to have everyone in the family have every experience that I thought was worth a sacrifice all along the way.  Since I was a girl, I lived with the knowledge that life can end on an ordinary day when you least expect it. I learned that October 16, 1967, on a typical school day.  I decided that day in the back seat, on the passenger side,  of a four door,  navy blue,  Impala, that we should grab the brass ring the first time it comes around in case that’s the only time it comes around in our lifetime.  I was dumbfounded by the news that my father had died about two o’clock earlier that afternoon.

       So my answers would be that: one material thing I gave away was all my trophies and ribbons I won in horse shows and rodeos for barrel racing, pole bending and trail class.  I tried some other events but they had pretty laughable endings. The weird thing is I just threw the trophies in the trash, a year ago when I cleaned out Moms house that had all my junk in it from when I moved here.  At the point of cleaning out her house, I was so overwhelmed with “STUFF” that I was just sick of cleaning. There was thirty years’ worth of a whole families “things” crammed in that house! I saved one trophy and two belt buckles and threw out the rest. My thinking was, I have no space for things I don’t need. I told myself, “I don’t need these or even have a place to display them, that was then and this is now…can’t take em’ with you Pam so pitch it”! I don’t wish I had kept them either - just taken a photo of them before the final pitch!

      Something I’m happy I gave away that I can’t get back is -  the time I spent cooking, cleaning, washing clothes, being a room mother….being “just a stay at home wife and mother”. I knew I didn’t have the constitution with my anxiety and sleep problems, to be able to hold down and full time job and do a good job taking care of kids, and a house and not be a “basket case” trying to be good at all of it. Kerry didn’t have the patience or the willingness to help much with the kids either, so for us it was best that he worked away from home and I took care of the house and kids. I’m happy I can’t get it back because I don’t have the energy for all that now, but I enjoyed all the work it was,  and being there for  every little thing and every big thing the kids did.  

        I really don’t know if I have any regrets about passing up the chance to go to college at eighteen or not. I used to say I did,  and maybe still do some,  but I enjoyed college a lot when I was older and I don’t know if I would have when I was eighteen. However, it always bothered me that I only had a high school diploma and I did lose the college experience being married so young - so that’s something I lost for sure. I have my moments of wishing I were more successful at something…I just don’t want it to interfere with my life ha!

           Another thing that I lost that I wish I could get back is my brown and white agate ring.  It was the only real ring I got from my Dad and I let my boyfriend at the time wear it on a chain. He got mad at me on a motorcycle ride, jerked the chain off and threw the ring in the pasture…I hunted and hunted but never found it. I’d like to have that back.

            I also lost some rings back when I was driving back and forth from ND. to AZ.  I had taken Ambien, a sleeping medication I took when I absolutely had to sleep, and it has an amnesia effect.  I left my rings in a hotel in Santa Fe, NM.  And of course no one found them. I still can barely talk about it or forgive myself. It was a ring I got when Kerry and I went to Jamaica that had my Mom’s birthstone in it, and my 25^th anniversary ring.   Ah, enough about that, I get panic stricken thinking about it! So that’s my five things I lost or gave away.

         I know a lot of people, myself included, are thinking of all the loss in Minot right now with the massive flooding they are having there.  We would all love to have that back.  It’s hard to keep your mind on anything else, even for us who are far from it, when you love Minot. How can you see those homes and businesses underwater, and not feel loss and sadness for the community, and the good people that live there.

       North Dakota people are some of the hardest working, honest, humble, people in the United States. They are emotionally tough, and conditioned to adverse weather, but this is (pardon my choice of words), over the top, even for them!

         My hope for Minot, is for those of us with homes high and dry, or out of state, is to open our hearts and resources to those who are displaced and watching their homes and businesses fill up with water. This is a loss that we can get back with some unity, some brotherly love and some patience. If anyone can rebuild the magic the Minot people can, especially with some help!

                          minotredcross.org

What Is Your Personal Truth?



Me in 1973

                                                                 

           People ask me how I think of things to write about?  Mostly,  they just seem come to me.  I’m not trying to write about extraordinary events, I want to write about the ordinary, about the everyday. I try to find things others can relate to.  I want to challenge myself to live better, take better care of myself, keep myself out of the depression I have struggled with a lot in my life… and I want to challenge you to be your best self too.  Today, I want to ask you what is your personal truth?

            I watched the opening episode of Finding Sarah, about Sarah Ferguson on Oprah’s new network.  Sarah had a long talk with Dr. Phil. Dr. Phil can take things a little too far at times probably, but I think he has been blessed with one of the greatest gifts of my generation. He knows how to lay it on the line and tell it like he sees it, and leave it there.  Even when I don’t agree with him, I still think he has a great gift and respect him tremendously.  

            He told Sarah, “Everyone has a public persona ( we put on makeup, comb our hair, dress up and put our best foot forward), but on the other hand, we also have personal truth. Our personal truth is what we, "really believe about ourselves when nobody is looking or listening, except us". In the deepest part of us, this personal truth is what we truly believe about ourselves. He followed that with, “we generate in our life what we think we deserve, and if we have a damaged personal truth (which personally, I think we all have some damage somewhere), we generate results that match that”.

          I saved that segment of that show, because I think it’s one of the most important things I’ve probably ever heard. Phil stated, “When we grow up people write on the slate of who we are. Parents, teachers, other children, aunts, uncles for example, define who we think we are.  We have no choice about that, but what’s really tragic, is when they put the pen down, and we pick it up and keep writing and, we write the same thing as they had been writing.  It’s not what really happens in our lives… it’s about what we say to ourselves about what happened in our lives. This is so true for me.



These 2 pics were taken by my Mom



My bracelet in hand...Carnival Queen

        














            I will give you a personal example of people writing on my slate and me, not only believing it but carrying it around for many, many years.  When I was in high school, I was crowned Carnival Queen when I was a junior in high school. This was our school’s version of Homecoming Queen.  Every girls dream right? I was one of four girls nominated by our classmates to be on the court for carnival queen.  Three of us were junior girls, and the only Sr. girl in her class, and my best friend in Palermo school was the other girl. We always had a huge school carnival, Tickets were sold and a table with decorated coffee cans with everyones name who was on the court to cast your vote for you favorite candidate.  on them.

        I think everyone expected Charli to win. Charli was the sexy girl in our school and popular as well.  Me in comparison, was more the Rosie O' Donnell type (minus the anger ha). I was chubby, but not nearly as chubby as I already believed I was, humorous and friendly .  I tried to be nice to everyone and stuck up for the kids others kicked out. I have never liked mean people even back then.

        When it was announced that I had won and I was crowned queen,  I was so happy, somewhat out of body estatic even...for maybe 60 minutes. As a coronation gift we received an inscribed ID bracelet with Carnival Queen 1971 on the back of it, I was supposed to bring it back to have my name put on it on Monday when I came to school. I remember after winning, I left the school with my boyfriend.  Sitting in my boyfriend’s car in front of the school, I shared with him how happy I was to be deemed popular, because self-esteem was always an issue for me.  Although I always felt like I had friends and people liked me, you always wonder what your real place is.

         By the time I got home from the carnival, my Mom had gotten home from her sister’s house, who had teenagers my age, had been at the carnival, went to the same school,  and I was about to find out how fast being on the top floor of in an elevator can quickly crash to the bottom! Mom's sisters teenagers had come home while Mom was at thier house,  and reported that people were saying, Charli (the Sr. girl) should have won, and that my boyfriend at the time must have “stuffed the ticket box” and that was the only reason I won!

         I was devastated, and devastated isn’t even a big enough word!  I went to bed feeling horrible. The next morning, I opened my eyes to the cold October wind blowing outside. Inside I was as cold as it was outside. I looked at the black bracelet box on my nightstand. I reached out and pulled it under the covers with me where it was warm. Opening it, I starred at it for what felt like an hour before I even touched it. It wasn't pretty like it was last night, it wasn't cherished like it was last night.  I tried it on my wrist one last time. I decided it was all a cruel joke this bracelet thing and unclasp it.  Swiftly I threw back the covers, thundered down the stairs, took it out to the burn barrel in my pajamas and flung it in.

            I cried all weekend off and on, but couldn't even bring myself to tell anyone how I felt but Mom. I had to pretend to be happy I won. I wanted to hide on Monday when school started. Humiliated, I just knew nobody wanted me to win. 

      I wrote and rewrote that incident on my slate of who I was for many, many years. In my mind, I was the fat carnival queen, with the crazy boyfriend, who didn’t deserve to be crowned in the first place.

Our Superintendent, Jr Class Press and me Sr Class President

Paper Editor ( I always loved to write)

             One day not more than ten years ago,  I found my old year books. I started looking through them. Gee, I thought, I was in the books a lot for not being in sports!  Hmmm, here I was a class officer as a junior, here I am the high school paper editor, with a whole team under me…. and finally, the PRESISDENT, yes the president of our class my senior year! There I was sitting at the administration table with the junior class president ready to give our speeches on our banquet night.  Could it be that I wasn’t as unpopular as I'd thought all these years? I had almost totally pulled away from Palermo kids after that experience and hung out with kids from neighboring towns, convinced they didn't like me and not trusting my feelings about who did and who didn't.

        Looking at these annuals now, I kept reasoning with myself, and treating myself like I would anyone else. I ask myself,  how if I was so unpopular, did I get nominated to the court in the first place? So what if my boyfriend had bought tickets, even a lot of tickets, and put them in the can and I won because of it? Couldn’t that happen any year, and probably had (alot of girls who'd won before me had boyfriends at the carnival, did i really think they didn't vote for their girlfriend)? Isn’t that the purpose of selling tickets..... to put in the cans? Besides, I was one of those spoiled kids who could always talk my Mom into having the car in high school! I had the car a lot and went to all the area small towns to hang out with different friends.  By that I mean I was in Stanley, Kenmare, Plaza , little surrounding towns and knew alot of area kids.  I didn’t just stay around Palermo like Charli, whose parents were stricter and made her stay home more. I knew a lot of people who knew me. Charli never held this carnival queen thing against me, and our friendship stayed the same.   

            I’m not kidding when I say it took me a good thirty years to find peace with that whole experience. I'm not saying I dwelled on it for thirty years...but it came to my mind here and there. Why my Mom ever chose to tell me that, I don’t know. Maybe she wanted me to hear it from her rather than in school. Why I chose to believe I was THAT unpopular I don't know, because I always had friends and always had a boyfriend.  It shows my damaged personal truth and low self-esteem.  

        We had bullying in schools back then to, and I know somehow there were no pictures of me as Carnival Queen in the 1972 school annual. In 1973 there was a full page spread with everyone on the court and the winners from that year as every other year, but I was covered up passing on the crown by someone else...coincidence? I think not, like I said we had jealous bullies then too and that exclusion added to my ideas about myself.             I know it sounds trivial compared to more major traumas, but I'm sharing it because it shows that its not so much what happens to us but what we say to ourselves about what happens to us. This explains people’s ability to overcome horrific things or crumble over small things doesn’t it?

         Even if people did say the box was stuffed, (and i still think they did say it). I also think some people on the annual staff purposely left out pictures of me in the annuals as well. But that's their problem not mine. None of them on the annual staff those two years ever made king or queen themselves, so if thats what they had to do to tear someone down, so be it. I wish I could say it didn't tear me down or what they did to hurt me didn't work,  but it did. All I can do now is hope to help the next person see where bully problems come from. The bullies themselves have the problems. 
    
      

Giving the crown away the next year

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Mom took these again of passing the crown.

                In the scope of life, this is trivial, but I think this is common, that we have heard or been told something  about ourselves that we totally believed and take in hook, line and sinker! We swallow the whole thing!  It isn’t necessarily true or even if part of it is true, it’s been blown out of proportion and magnified.

        I looked at all of us graduates today in my year book, looking for some pictures for this blog. None of us in that year or any other, is any better than anyone else. We were all ordinary kids, that lived ordinary lives, did some extraordinary things, and some everyday things. Experienced some high highs, and survived some low lows. None of us are special and then again, all of us are special.

             To change what we are telling ourselves we have to become aware of what we are thinking in the first place, and then ask yourself if this is real or imagined? I don’t think I ever really examined anything I heard about myself - I just believed it. Now, I hear it, examine it, and give myself the same treatment I would give someone else, and try to put myself on the same page with other people in my life.
     
              I think most of us could use a little work on our personal  truth, but at the same time I don’t want to live my life analyzing every thought or action, because I have fun to have, things to experience and places to enjoy. Join me, lets just check out our pasts in the rear view mirror...it looks much better with some distance and a whole lot of dust from where your going now!  

Guilty Pleasures

           Say someone asks you, “What are your ten guilty pleasures”? How much thinking would you have to do to come up with ten, or is ten just the tip of the ice berg? Personally, I have quite a few and enjoy EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM!  

My Tea This Morning

      The first one that comes to my mind is tea. I love hot black tea. I start and end my day, every day, with a cup of tea. I’m fussy about my tea too. For starters, I drink mine in a clear, glass, BIG mug! I use only distilled water so it’s nice and clear. No cloudy tea for me.  Here’s the really sinful, guilty part… I really love real, white, not so good for you, sugar in it …and like 2 tbsp! Celestial Seasonings English breakfast tea is my favorite, followed by Lipton’s Orange Spice black tea.

The Drip Pot Like Mom Used To Make Tea

             My love of tea started when Mom used to make tea for supper once in a while, when we were kids in her old aluminum drip coffee pot. She would add loose tea to the basket of the pot and pour boiling water from the bottom of the pot through the basket. Then she would pour the perfectly steeped tea into glass cups with saucers. That was fine dining at our house!  Kathy and I only got a half of a cup as it would “stunt our growth”! The white sugar bowl with the silver trim that was a staple in the center of the table, was readily available to sugar my tea up to my liking.  By the way it did not stunt my growth, but rather, widened my girth if anything!

        My second guilty pleasure is my heated throw. I think I have had about six already, cuz i must have a new one if they stop working! When my legs hurt or back aches or I just want to be cozy…I love my heated throw. I love that throw summer or winter, but obviously more in the winter. When my bones ache I love to turn it on and recline my chair and cook until I’m medium rare…then I kick it all off and complain about how hot I am…till I’m cold again in fifteen minutes and then start the cooking process all over !

         Third, I love my DS scrabble game, I play it almost every night before I fall asleep. The secret is I play the computer, but only on level five because if I play on level six it beats me every time!  I like a close game but getting my pants beat off before I go to bed isn’t relaxing or sleep inducing ha…ticks me off when he uses all his letters and scores an extra fifty points, on a word I’m not even sure is a word!

          Fourth, I love old jewelry, especially old pins. I have collected them for years, before it became fashionable and before they were “vintage”. I love putting on an old pin, and wondering who the little lady was, who wore this to church one Sunday and sang off tune to every hymn,  or maybe she received it for a gift from her children or husband. I imagine her to be happy with how much I love and care for her beautiful baubles, each in their own little plastic compartment. I love all jewelry, but the older the better…well,... other than Brighton’s - that’s my favorite store, and I take all the new stuff from there I can get ha!

        

Weezy...Lil Wayne

   Fifth is my love of Lil Wayne’s music…its creative, its raw, its filthy some of it, but I just love his voice, his creativity and his life story! He’s a pot smoker, drinks purple codine cough syrup from a styrofoam cup,  talks about women in a trashy way... but  I think the guy is a genius, for real. When he was in prison for gun charges, or maybe it was drug charges, Sydney and I were walking by Hot Topic and they had Free Weezy mug shot shirts, two for the price of one. We both got one but, Syd encouraged me to, "just wear mine around the house"! I was like, "yes I know,  do you think I’ve totally lost my mind"?…but I do wear my free Weezy shirt around the house with my flannel pants. Like Larry the Cable guy says, "Lord I Apologize”!

This one is my Grandma Bruhn ha.

         Sixth, is my collection of Nana’s Family Dolls. They are resin dolls made by Annie Wahl. They were commissioned by Richard Simmons ( not a fan of him but liked the dolls), and are all retired now.  I have given them names after people  I have known in my life. I take great joy in my dolls. I find as I get older the more I love my things!



Sisters





          Seventh is taking pictures. I love to take pictures, especially if I can get a cooperative subject that isn’t acting spunky and hissing like my lil roommate Sydney Nicole does. If I want to take her picture it has to be short and sweet and she has final say about the delete button on the camera! Oh and I can’t post them either!

          Eighth is a relaxing bath, I long for a nice big tub one day. Where we live now has a nice walk in shower in the master bedroom and a little dinky bathtub in the main bathroom lined with Sydney’s shampoos, conditioners and razors etc. It’s a hazard to try and take a bath in there, between slipping around on the spilled conditioner and all the razors I just shower but I miss my baths. 

            Reality TV is number nine on the guilty pleasure list. I love them all! American Idol, DWTS, Teen Mom, The Real World, the Housewives of whatever city, The Jersey Shore, …you name it I tape it, and fast forward thru parts I don’t like or am not interested in which is pretty much just the commercials!



A great view...and a better feeling

           Number ten is my horse. I love spending time with him. He really is a guilty pleasure because he’s not a Chihuahua to keep and feed ha…I also have a human cat named Bentley, and a Chihuahua named Papi…they all add pleasure and friendship  and love to my life.  My horse has been a real gift to me from me and I wake up in the morning wanting to go hang out with him…and wait to see him every day.

     

     Crocs, are pushing me over ten! I love Crocs..I don't care who says what about them..I love them! Never again am I putting my feet in anything uncomfortable. I especially love the flats...they are cute (in my opinion) with anything! The bright colors are a huge turn off, but you don't have to go with those. I'll share my favorites!



          My last guilty pleasure is being in Phoenix. I am a gypsy with two homes…I love North Dakota , but I want to live here…here where the weather is warm and sunny, where my kids are, where Marcy and her family are, here where there are endless things to do. I enjoy going to Minot when I do, and that will always be my true hometown, but this is the home I got to choose and I love it here. The guilty part is that Kerry is still in ND and would rather have me there, for the first day or so anyway and then we start locking horns about the simplest things. By the time he joins us here I hope we have lost any animosity and just become one. One can dream, ha!

           That's twelve already, I told you I could think of a bunch! The important thing is, since I’ve turned fifty five, I gave up guilt, and I think you should too. Name your pleasure, name your poison, live your life and love everything in it. It can only add sparkle and happiness!

Rest In Everlasting Peace Uncle Gilbert

Gilbert Bruhn Family

       I have lost important people in my life along the way, and today was one of those days that you wake up to a phone call that tells you another of those treasured people has passed away.  He was 83 I think.  He lived a long and healthy life.  But it’s never long enough when its someone you can't imagine your life without, we always want one more day, and we are never ready to lose loved ones.

        My Uncle Gilbert, passed away today in Wolf Point Montana. He  lived there as far back as I can remember. He was an auto machanic by profession, but there wasn’t one thing he couldn’t do. He could fix anything; he inherited that trait either by nature or nurture from his father. Besides fixing anything on a car, he might be remodeling a cabin, a kitchen, fixing faulty electricity, or laying under the sink fixing leaky plumbing, I always saw him as one of the smartest men I knew and one of the hardest working as well. He was an avid fisherman and enjoyed his cabin and boat at Fort Peck for many years. It was his home away from home, especially when his wife Mary was playing cards in town with her girl friends. He loved that cabin and Fort Peck.

        When I was twelve and my father died from an accident,  Gilbert came from Montana, walked Mom (his sister) up the isle at the funeral  and sat with his arm around her offering a shoulder to cry on and giving her the familar comfort only a brother could. His wife Mary, sat a few rows back with other family members , and sweetly let Gilbert be the caretaker of his sister.

      A few years later my brother passed away. Again, there was Gilbert, arm around Mom, helping her put one foot in front of the other; this time to make that trek past the front pew to gaze at her son one last time, before the casket lid was closed for eternity. Mary again sat with other relatives further back, happy to share Gilbert.  I always have told people that Mary is my definition of class - not just because of those times, but those times said so much about who she is. I feel so sad for her today, and wish I could give her a hug.

       Mary and Gilbert have been married sixty something years. At their 50th anniversary several years back, they danced the polka, waltz, and two step tirelessly ALL NIGHT LONG!  Most of us younger people slumped over in our chairs - wondered where do they get such stamina? That was a fun night.

        My grandparents lived in Blaisdell, North Dakota, a tiny town…so tiny no one knew where it was most of the time! When Gilbert and Mary were coming from Wolf Point, MT to Blaisdell for a visit it was a big deal for everyone!  Grandma thawed out some butter ( they ate oleo but Mary only liked butter, so Grandma made sure she was ready with the butter). When they came home all the seven families congregated and stuffed ourselves into Grandmas tiny house, until it resembled the little ballooning  houses of an old Terrytoon cartoon.  The adults played cards and visited and we grandkids split up and sat in our parents cars in little cousin clicks, or walked to the school playground.  Gilbert was always laughing and telling stories.  The adults bragged about us kids, with a little "oneupmanship" going on, showing latest pictures and painting us in our best light.  Personally, I liked that part haha….

       When my kids were born they remember Gilbert the same way I do, always fixing what needed to be fixed. Sitting around drove Gilbert crazy,  he was a thinker, a lot of us in the Bruhn family are thinkers… almost to a negative, because its hard on your health to think non stop and not be able to shut your mind off and relax.  Shelbey remembers when he was visiting our house once her little wooden rocking chair was broke, and he had me find him some wood clue and pegs and he fixed it for her. No one likes to rock more than Shelbey so she was thrilled to have that fixed and never forgot it! All of my kids love Gilbert and Mary.  Shelbey just said a few days ago, one thing she loved is that Gilbert always wrote and responded to the Christmas cards he received, with a hand written card back, talking about the weather and what he and Mary had been doing.

    Today I’m sad I can’t swing going to Wolf Point for the funeral, I would like to sit in the pew like he did for us so many times, but financially it isn’t feasible from so far away.  I’m sad for Mary, Mary Ann, Gilbert Jr, Debbie, Patty and all the grandkids, that love him so very much, and for who his passing will leave a huge hole. I’m sad for the community of Wolf Point, because he was loved by many.  I’m sad for the rest of us who, with the death of each of these old timers that mean the world to us, we lose one more of a dying breed of that generation. They were honorable, they kept their word to people,  could be trusted to take care of their family for life, and try to do the right thing to the end.

         I’m not saying they were perfect, there are no perfect people, and if ever there were hurts or altercations with family,  I hope none of us let that define the whole relationship, because the good times always outweigh the bad. We are a family, we all share a bond and it has been a blessing, a huge blessing, to grow up knowing you were part of a big family that loves you and you were part of. Think of how many people today don’t have that?  That circle of love of aunts and uncles outside your own nuclear family is so grounding and important.

      There was a framed family tree with gold leaves, and little black and white pictures of all the families,that hung above Grandmas couch there in Blaisdell. It had been presented to Grandpa and Grandma Bruhn on their 50th anniversary. That tree reminds me of a saying that goes… “Like branches on a tree we all grow and go in different directions but our roots remain one”. 

       One of the brightest leaves on that picture has sifted to the ground now,  having fulfilled the job he came to earth to do.  I wish I could be there at his funeral, to look around and appreciate his legacy left behind in the family and friends on his funeral day, but let this be my tribute to someone I have always been proud to call my uncle.
                                                          Much Love,
                                                          Pam

To Make Children in the Crockpot

       As much as I need to get going on that paint job in my bathroom,   one must have their morning tea, right?  I have already made my bed, skimmed and back flushed the pool, taken out the garbage and started the dishwasher I left holding all the days dirty dishes last night - without even so much as a rinse!

         I started a blog about something (can’t remember what), before going to North Dakota.  Skimming through my documents I ran across “To Make Children in the Crockpot”.  Well, that’s what I read…what it really was, is just something I jotted down for Sydney, which said To Make Chicken in the Crockpot.  She wanted to make chicken in the crockpot while I was gone and she hadn’t used a crockpot much. The perceived title did make me think about raising children in a crockpot however….stay with me on this now, ha.

         
        Far be it from me to tell anyone how to raise their kids, I’m far from perfect myself.  I, like most Moms, have my moments of excellence- true genius even…and then I have my moments of insecurity and the need to be in control, which leads to rage. Only Kerry and the kids know I am a rager…even my sisters say, “I have never really seen you mad like you describe”. All I can say is, "it’s there"! Probably has happened ten or twenty times in my life but it happens.

Who could get mad at that lil face?

                                                         

          It takes a lot to push me to the brink of insanity, well in a raging kind of way anyway, but when I pass go there is no return! One of the first times, I can think of is when Brendon had a big wheel or a hot wheel as some call it.  We lived in Berthold, ND. and on the only paved road leading into town from the east. Brendon was five years old and I told him he could only ride that big wheel in the drive way, ABSOLUTELY COULD NOT RIDE IT ON THAT PAVED ROAD!  I didn’t really clarify why as I had harped about that road since he was born with healthy ears!

          About ten minutes later and the first time I saw him peddling his little legs off on the highway out front I thought I was seeing things, so I went out there, stayed calm and explained that even if you don’t see any cars at the time of pulling on the road, the clacking that was part of the big wheel experience, would not allow you to hear any cars that would come up behind you, and you’d could be killed! Cars are not expecting big wheels on the highway!  I love you too much to allow you to be on that road- so you must stay in the driveway. Sitting there, hands up high on the handlebars, wheel turned a little to the side ready to go,  with just his pajama top with shorts on; he looked at me, big brown eyes peeking through his needing a trim, seventies “cuff cut” and said, “OOOKKK, Mom, I WON'T”! 

          Guess I thought that was, ok Mom I won’t go on the highway, but I was wrong, because there he went again out on the highway!   I opened the front door and reminded him to get back in the driveway and he sheepishly clacked it on in. 

          Couple minutes later, I thought I saw my first apparition, cuz I swore that was Brendon, flying past, peddling his little legs off out on the highway again!  Now I was mad, not raging yet, but mad.  I opened the door and bellered, “get that thing in the driveway or you will park it”! He yelled back, “Sorry Mom, I forgot”!  I thought, sure you did and shut the door, after all I’m not cooling off the outside (Ethel resides in my head).

           This time I watched him from the bedroom window.  He drove to the edge of the driveway, looked both ways for traffic,  looked back at the door where I had been keeping check from. Not seeing me there, front wheel grabbing for traction, he roared out into the street clacking all the way.  Oooohh…NOW THE RAGE KICKED IN! I grabbed a wooden spoon; you know the three for 99 cent kind, that scared the crap out of kids in the seventies… just by rattling the drawer! You only had to use it once or twice, and after that shaking the drawer was enough to do what the spanking would have.

          I stormed out to that highway like a wild charging boar, screaming the whole way! I was screeching something like "you forgot alright", grounded him for probably three months or something crazy, said I was taking away everything I could think of that meant anything too him, jerked him off of that hot cycle by one arm, cracked him on the behind with that wooden spoon screaming, "forget that will you! He took off running toward the house. I’m sure I was putting on an entertaining act for the neighborhood, but I’d past go with no return when it came to sanity.  I screamed and hollered the whole way to the house and he was crying, sobbing and tripping. As he scampered through the walk in garage door, in my rage I decided to give him one more crack for good measure.  Thank you God, because I missed his butt and hit the side of the door, breaking the spoon! I looked at the stick in my hand with the sharp jagged edges, picked up the head of the spoon, and muttered something about a cheap _ _ _  spoon!

           Heartbroken and angry, he went inside and flopped himself on his bugs bunny bed with all the Looney tunes characters I’d lovingly painted on his wall in his room around him.  I sat down in the living room and cried, letting what just happened soak in.  That pretty much ended the wooden spoon thing for me. Oh I still rattled the drawer on occasion, but the moment that stick broke I knew I was spanking for me,  it was out of control and did I really want to be a big looming threat in their lives and someone you had to be scared of to listen?  I never got spanked by my mother and I turned out ok I reasoned…

           I went in his room and apologized for getting THAT mad, gave him back the stuff I took away in my rage ( ya bad idea too, but where was Dr. Phil when I needed him). I told him I loved him more than anything, and I wanted to be able to trust him to ride that darn thing safely. The cycle stayed parked as the only punishment until the next time we went to Grandmas.  The big wheel went with and stayed there at the farm…he could clack till he was blue in the face, she had a hill he could ride down and we were both happier. All that is except Grandma, who worried he'd loose control and crash into the propane pig in her yard!  

           I'm still a rager on occassion, but it takes more energy than I care to expend these days ha...  Brendon teases me still about when he was in high school, and he pushed my buttons until I backed him in the corner with a broom to hold him in place till I got done chewing him out for something. Didn’t hit him - just threatened to stick the bristles in his face!

           So the idea of raising children in a crockpot could be a gentler, slower simmering pace. I think if I had to do it over again I would work harder at that approach.  I could still turn up the heat to near boiling if I had too, but not to where it’s overflowing and running over and making a mess of things. I have hurt my kids emotionally when I raged around and we laugh about it now yes, but it’s really not so funny.  Some people today hurt their kids by never taking a stand either and just letting them be the rulers in the family. That’s just as bad.

         So I say, put in your crockpot enough children to make your family complete. Pour emotional love, friendship, acceptance, understanding for what their world is like, fair discipline, physical needs and a handful of wants as well, over the top of them. Add to that a lot of fun and experiences, forming a colorful family stew of sorts, made up of all the different personalities and accepting them all. Simmer that all together. If you hit rough spots, you may need to turn up the heat until the mixture stabilizes.  Cook for a lifetime, never give up on each other, parents or children, and be sure to enjoy and appreciate each other along the way.

Brendon sleeping on his Looney Tune bedspread and favorite white blanket!

          

The Soundtrack of My Life

               Music.  I’ve heard it said music is the soundtrack to your life. What music would you choose to make the soundtrack of your life?  My first memories of music were of Mom playing the guitar. She got her guitar from her brother Julius for her 17^th birthday, and like so many others in her family, playing an instrument and singing seemed effortless.  Mom had probably six to ten, brown note books full of song lyrics, neatly written by her hand. When she was sure Dad was not coming in the house for a while,  Mom would take out her guitar and we’d page through the songs and eagerly find our requests.  I remember singing  the Old Rugged Cross, You are My Sunshine, Have I Told You Lately that I Love You, Don’t Pop and I’ll Be Good, At Mail Call Today, and I Just Don’t Give a Hoot!

Kathy and Me Cutting the Rug ha..

             When Marcy and Sonny were in high school, Kathy and I were preschoolers. Marcy taught us all the latest fifties dances, like the stroll (love that one), the hully gully, the hand jive, and our very favorite, the bop. During that time, I won a little record player at a Rexall drug store contest.  Marcy and Sonny picked out the music for me. I loved that little gold and white record player with the furry grey turn table.  I still have the 45 records of Elvis,  Buddy Holly and the Drifters. Those old 45's have two songs on each side.

               During  grade school, my Dad liked Buck Owens. I idolized my Dad, so I too loved Buck Owens - in spite of the filthy talking boy in school that I wrote about last time, taking the B out of Buck and changing it to an F.  It never stopped me from  focusing  on the wonderful memories that were made, two stepping around the living room with my Dad,  trying to dodge, but still bumping into Mom and Kathy two stepping beside us.  Lots of two steps to Open up Your Heart, Under  Your Spell and Sam’s Place. After three or four dances we’d take a rest.

                                                 

          Then Kathy and I fell in love with THE MONKEES!  I loved Davey Jones and Kathy loved Mickey Dolenze. We skipped the Beatles, and went for the Monkees and Herman’s Hermits (Brendon got Kerry and I tickets to Herman’s Hermits a couple years ago and they were awesome btw!)

               In high school I loved Lobo, the Bee Gees, Bj Thomas, Johnny Rivers, Creedence Clearwater Revival, John Denver, and Top 40 radio.  A whole string of one hit wonder songs like Precious and Few fit on that list somewhere too!

                                                          

               In my twenties, disco came in and I checked out …I still hate disco! I switched to country music or I loved The Gullings Sisters, who had a ministry based out of Minnesota, and sang at our church when they were in the area. I had all their albums and loved their music!  Shelbey’s gospel CD has a lot of Gullings music on it, which she redid with Dave Roise in Minot ND. 

         We did and do clean house with the radio blasting and take frequent dance breaks!  Back then we listened to The Judds, John Anderson, Joe Diffie , Alan Jackson, Toby Keith and Martina McBride, Lori Morgan, the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band and Diamond Rio to name a few. 

                                                      

              After Sydney was born we girls started making long trips to and from Branson, Mo when Shelbey worked and lived there. I was still into country music and Sydney was now into Simple Plan and Good Charlotte type stuff. To be fair we played one of her CD’s and then one of mine. So it would go something like Dwight Yoakum, Simple Plan, Doug Stone, Good Charlotte, Garth brooks, Savage Garden, Tim McGraw, Britney Spears, The Mavericks, and Backstreet Boys etc.

                Then came the long drives from Minot to Phoenix and back. Country music had become all about Brooks and Dunn(yuk), Gretchen Wilson (yuk), Josh Turner(yuk)….so I switched to Sydney’s music for good.  Today I listen to mostly top forty pop radio stuff and old country.  I really like Garth Brooks, Jason Derulo, Carrie Underwood, The Black Eyed Peas, Kelly Clarkson, Enrique Iglesis, Rhianna, Rob Thomas,…I dunno… whatever I think sounds good!  I like some country now again too. Taylor Swift’s last album sounded good to me, although I think her real talent is songwriting… they can produce her so she sounds good.

           My Soundtrack goes like this (I’m sure I’ve forgotten a few, I should have included, so i may be adding to this yet ha).  

                Every day by Buddy Holly……five or six years old and my new record player.
              
                What a Friend We Have In Jesus...my Dad's funeral

                This Magic Moment by Jay and The Americans ….8^th grade.

                Children of the Heavenly Father…a choir song I sang alto to and Kathy melody

                Do Lord Oh Do Lord…driving Marcy and Jerry nuts with it in the back seat on a Canadian road trip.  

              The Crystal Chandalier  …Kelly Moore used to bring his Charlie Pride albums out to the  farm.

               Look Out Here Comes Tomorrow…my favorite Monkees song

               Billy and Sue by  Bj Thomas……. high school dances in the gym my freshman year

                Baby I’m-a Want You by Bread….my first boyfriend

                Wild Thing by The Troggs……..wishing I was something I wasn’t.

                Runaround Sue by Dion….the song they gave me in the high school yearbook.

                 Precious and Few by Climax….a prom in Plaza I was invited to.

                 Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow by the Chiffons…I played this on my guitar endlessly. 

                 Maggie May by Rod Stewart…seeing Kerry driving down main street in Stanley with that song blasting, with his shoulder length hair

                Behind Closed Doors by Charlie Rich….Kerry and My song…1973

  Delta Dawn by Tanya Tucker….the only time I ever saw Lori (Kerry’s sister drunk, she sang that all the way home    from the state line club.

  Take Me Home Country Roads... my brothers funeral

 Baby’s Got Back by Sir Mix A Lot…I confiscated Brendon’s tapes of that “immoral music” !

Wild Angels by Martina McBride…Shelbey and I singing on a trip home from Bismarck!

Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen…Dirty Dancing my all-time favorite movie

That’s What I like Dance Mix ….Sydney danced her way all over ND one summer, when she was only ten. She earned $600. in Jr. Division amateur contests at state and county fairs.

Now and Forever by Richard Marx …Brendon and his very first girlfriend

Holiday Road by Lindsey Buckingham…our vacation song we always sang in the car

Unchained Melody by Shelbey Picek…her first CD, so proud of her

            Mambo Italiano – Sydneys'  high school dance they performed for State, loved watching it

              One Friend by Dan Seals…Our 25^th Anniversary

              If I Never Stop Loving You by David Kersh…Our 25^thAnniversary first dance choice Kerry picked it

              In the Garden…Mom’s funeral

              I Will Be There by Shelbey Picek.. sang at her wedding

              Writing It Down by Uncle Kracker…worrying about Brendon

              Transform Ya by Lil Wayne…the last few years in Phoenix

              Telephone by Lady Gaga … concert with Sydney

              River of Time by the Judds …seeing the Judds with Shelbey

             Don’t You Wanna Stay by Kelly Clarkson and Jason Aldean or Think of You by 
Chris Young and Cassadee Pope my favorites right now.

     

         Music does so much for us. I have said many, many times to many people, “ I don’t know how I would have survived life, without music”. For me, music is wellness, healing, sanctuary, escape, comfort, distraction, encouragement, passion, transportation to days gone by and defineatly a staple for a sparkling life! Nothing is more intriguing than a cleaverly written lyric. I will rewind and listen to that one sentence several times, play it for anyone who will listen, amazed by,  how did they think of that? 

       You don’t have to be a musician to appreciate great music.  Music is an art that you can relate even if you don't have the creativity or ability to create it yourself. I declare that tear-jerkers, foot-tappers, rock and roll, country, rap or gospel ; some kind of music lives in everybody. What does the soundtrack to your life sound like?