Tuesday, October 28, 2014

   I reported recently that I went out to dinner with my inlaws.  There is however, more to the story.  I had the best laugh I've had in quite a while from the person who thought my spouse was my father.  What I really wanted to mention was that this stranger bought us a piece of cheesecake to celebrate our anniversary and sent a sweet note wishing us blessings.  Cheesecake is not that expensive, true; and some would say that she felt guilty for insulting my husband. Truth be told there was no real "wrong done".  My husband and his family thought the whole thing was funny as hell.
   It wasn't the size of the gesture but the size of the impact.  I have always held a firm belief that people are lazy and wouldn't bother to rectify something they had done to another person especially something small.  I've screwed up myself that way more than once in my life.
   This particular gesture was sweet not only because of the cheesecake.  First, I wish good, really good laugh-till-you-can't-breathe laughs would happen to everyone more often.   Secondly, I've always had a warped negative view of myself.  A total stranger, God bless her, pulled down my crap colored glasses through which I see myself.  For some reason, a complement from a woman carries more weight than any comment from a guy.  Perhaps because of a perception that there is no motive involved from a woman.  Thirdly, it occurred to me that this is a wonderful reminder to keep the good Karma going.  I hope I don't forget to look for opportunities to pay it forward, complement a stranger, pass on my daughter's old things to other moms, whatever.  Lastly, to the person who started all this, whoever you are, thank you and bless you, too.
    

 
I went out to dinner with my in laws recently and the food was not the highlight of the evening.  Don't get me wrong, my dinner was great.  What was even better was my brother in law.  Godshalks are a friendly bunch by nature, which is different from how I usually operate.  My brother in law started chatting with the table next to us and this woman and her friend asked what the occasion was and who we all were.  She also inquired how long he and his wife had been married and correctly guessed it was 42 years.  He explained that we were celebrating two birthdays in the group and it also happened to be a wedding anniversary as well.  Politely, she asked my husband if it was his daughter's birthday and looked at me.  My husband took it in stride, I laughed till my stomach hurt! 

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Has anyone seen my marbles???!!

Recently, I was visiting my mother in Deptford, NJ.  She had cut her cable channels to reduce costs and told me several of the children's channels had been cut. Mom was concerned that my daughter wouldn't have much to watch on TV when she visits.   No problem, I said, don't you have some kids movies we left here?  Yeah, mom says, let me look.  She opens her DVD box and the only thing in there is one VHS tape titled - and I quote - " Things that Aren't There Anymore".  You can't make this stuff up.  

For your consideration...

 
 I’m wearing hair dye.  My hair used to be really thick when I was a kid but now it’s thinning.  I’m taking biotin because a hairdresser told me it would help.  Recently I went to work part time and maybe it was the flourescent lighting but I could really see the greys.  They were starting to go beyond the several random strands that would stick out in odd directions trying to separate themselves from the heard.
   So, I bought some hair dye and figured ‘how hard could it be?’ (Dumbass!)
   The most important lesson I learned is that boxes of hair dye show you swatches that are a lot like general guidelines.  It’s not unlike painting your house.
   Another important thing is not to leave it on too long lest you shock your own ass and wake up to see Roy Orbison in your mirror.  On the upside, I didn’t go permanent and it does calm down, even if you don’t.

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"When I grow up I want to work with Daddy, until I have a baby."  Daddy's little princess, age 5

Senor Ficas


 
Senor Ficas
barbgodshalk.blogspot.com

Senor Ficas has left the building, and he wasn’t even mine.  Yet there was still much rejoicing.  It is the aftermath of our 2014 yard sale and I am enjoying my new found space.  We had a dear friend join us and thus ensure that we looked like we had a decent amount of stuff for potential shoppers to peruse.  After all these years, though, I should know that isn’t much of a valid concern.  The first things I find after any yard sale, are more things for the next yard sale.
   I have said before that it seems like an ungodly amount of work for so little cash but after doing it for years, I have learned two things.  Most likely I have some sort of genetic disorder/compulsion and I have yard sales for the esoteric benefits.  This is partly due to the way I grew up, yes, mom, you started it.  Why throw out what you can sell?  When you grow up in a house where money’s tight, some things just stick.
   I’m also finding out that how much money you end up making isn’t really the point, although it is a strong lure. I find this part a bit puzzling since our profits from year to year are about as consistent as scratch off lottery tickets - yet we can’t stop playing!  The nicest benefit of gong through the process is heardng everthing that needs to leave in one place.  It’s the one time of year, we specifially make time to ‘Spring clean’ with the intent of getting rid of things.  The tax accountant in me would also say ‘why throw out what doesn’t sell when you can itemize’?
   We go back and forth on the subject of stopping because of the money.  ‘We only made $40 bucks this time, that’s it, I’m done, no more!’  The next year, however, hoipe springs eternal.  I find myself calling my mom, ‘The community center just put up their signs, mark you calendar, we’ve got to get ready!‘  After our most recent sale, we actually made enough to pay for a nice dinner.  So much for retirement. Here we go again.

Sunday, October 19, 2014



Abstract Art
 
As anyone who has seen either me or my spouse knows, we know where our refrigerator is, at least physically.  The problem we are having is that we can’t see it.  Why?  It is covered in artwork from our daughter.  Too bad I can’t figure out most of what the hell she’s drawing.  We just refer to it as her ‘impressionistic period”.  Her most recent creation titled “Godzilla versus Elsa” however, is somewhat clearer.  She also hasn't titled much of anything until recently, which I find helpful.  Usually I just have to nod and smile and say 'That looks great honey!' Now I at least have a shot at animal, vegetable, or mineral.
  I'm not looking forward to having to go through all of her things and decide what to keep.  I know not every crayon scribble is priceless but I have to admit that some projects actually came out looking pretty cool.  I have no idea if she'll even care that we're keeping this stuff but right now, we who pay the mortgage make the storage decisions.
  I also had no idea there was such a thing as 'Boy Colors" or "Girl Colors".   She every inch Daddy’s little boy in a girl suit, this week.  I also have the joy of knowing that when you live with a person whose moods change like the weather, Elsa could kick Godzilla's butt next
week.  What's new in your kitchen?
 
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