memories – Page 108 – beckycochrane.com

Legacy Writing 365:249

Guinness is snoozing next to First. Or she would be if my camera flash weren’t going off in her face.

The town where we lived when I graduated from high school was so tiny that it didn’t have any businesses other than gas stations, one mom-and-pop burger place, a barber shop, beauty shop, and a convenience store. There was–I’m serious–one red light. And a post office. Everything else was residential. But a couple of miles down the road was a little shopping center where there was a drugstore. That drugstore had a gift section, and that’s where the yellow dog, above, came from. I named him First because he was given to me by The Boyfriend on the anniversary of our first year of going steady.

When we went away to college, some of my stuffed animals went with me, including First. I made the overalls he’s wearing from a worn-out pair of The Boyfriend’s jeans. Here’s the belly side.

I used to cause myself to laugh hysterically by making First play air guitar to the Wings song Let Me Roll It. The Boyfriend tolerated this on our long drives between Tuscaloosa and home. I still love that song.

One of the friends I made on the hall in my dorm loved First so much that when Christmas came around, I picked up his brother for her from that same drugstore.

Kim loved him.

And slept with him.

And sometimes her animals and my animals had a little slumber party. That’s my teddy bear, Dr. Neil, behind her puppy. The pale yellow elephant is also mine. I think he was from The Boyfriend, too. I believe I had him up until a few years ago when the rats invaded the attic. They got into a bag of stuffed animals and used their innards for nesting materials. Since First and Dr. Neil always stay close to me wherever I am, they weren’t in the attic so were safe. But the elephant may have been a casualty.

Rat bastards.

Legacy Writing 365:248

The Brides were out of town over the Labor Day weekend, so Sugar spent the holiday with us. She’s always a welcome guest at The Compound because I don’t think there’s any dog she doesn’t get along with, no matter what sport–or piece of furniture–they make of her. The photo at left of Pixie sitting on Sugar is from March 2011, but other than a change in sofas, it could as easily have been taken on this most recent visit. She plays hard with Pixie and Penny, treats Margot and Guinness with complete respect, and even when Lynne came over on Saturday evening, she played with Minute and didn’t roll her eyes too much when Paco pretended to be the biggest, baddest dog around.

One thing Sugar does at The Compound that she’s not allowed to do at home except by special invitation is get on the bed. I know there are differing opinions on whether dogs should be allowed to sleep with people, and when I was growing up, it wasn’t permitted in our house. Dopey, for example, was not allowed on the furniture, including beds.

Whenever we’d go somewhere and return home, Dopey would greet us at the door, stretching and wagging his tail as if to say, “Welcome home! Oh, what a good long nap I had. Right here on the floor. The floor that I’m allowed to sleep on. Never moved the whole time you were gone. [yawn yawn]” Then my parents would walk into their bedroom and press their hands against the warm circular indentation in the middle of their bed, wondering what alien being could possibly have been there and returned to its home planet just before we arrived.

The first dogs I had of my own in my own home were allowed on the bed, and I just never thought to change that rule, especially since I mostly had dachshunds who don’t take up much space and who as burrowers always ended up deep under the covers at the foot of the bed where they were barely noticeable. Of course, over the years, the dogs have gotten larger, and there can be more of them when we dogsit or have fosters, but we just make a little more room, do a little shifting, and everybody’s good.

Well, mostly. Rex, who didn’t normally sleep on Tim’s bed, always slept on ours, and as he got older and crankier, if he was in bed before me, I had to be careful about how I got in bed. Apparently he thought I meant everyone harm and would growl menacingly at me, so I made a game of figuring out ways to cut him off at the pass.

As for Sugar, she’s the only dog I know who, once she has found the spot she wants and curls up, weighs two thousand immovable pounds. Like any superhero power, we don’t know how it works, but there ought to be a way she can be used for our national defense.

In spite of the fact that my mother didn’t want dogs and cats on our beds, I actually think she’s at fault for this habit of mine. They say we’re shaped by our first three years.

Legacy Writing 365:247

Just had a super long conversation by phone with Timmy, talking about a range of things, including writing. He’s been working on a manuscript that I’m so looking forward to reading when it’s ready. I also told him the current project I’ve undertaken, which involves this:

Since Tim and I have the rights to both of our out-of-print Alyson books, The Deal and Three Fortunes in One Cookie, we’ve thought about making them available as ebooks. However, our electronic versions of the books are pre copy and line edits: What I have on the computer does not match the published novels. So the first step is to get a good electronic version. It’s slow going to compare the minuscule print of the book to the version on my monitor. So far I’ve been surprised by one typo–ours–which no one at Alyson ever caught. I knew there were a couple of mistakes in the book, but this is one that had escaped my notice until now.

It’s been so long since I read Three Fortunes that it’s hard not to get caught up in the story–that slows me down, too. But once this part is over, Tim has said, with an odd gleam in his eyes, that he wants to do a content edit. I’m not sure what this means. I know the plot won’t change, but I’m wondering if he plans to eliminate a friend or two? Scary!

Maybe this is a good time to whip out a photo of Tim sitting beneath the branches of the Friendship Oak in 2004. I just checked on the 500-plus years old Friendship, who got beaten up so badly by Katrina, and she’s growing and thriving. The legend is that those who enter her shadow will remain friends for a lifetime. That’s good news for many people, including Tim and me, as well as some characters in Three Fortunes.

Speaking of friends, that little clip on the copy of the book in the top picture was given to me by my friend/roommate Debbie decades ago. It’s been used as a chip clip, but it’s really a clip for holding a recipe card on the counter while I’m cooking. I’ve used it for that many times. It’s serving a good purpose as a page clip, which should work for a few more chapters.

The best friendships endure when we value the ways we grow and change as well as our history together. So if Three Fortunes needs some changes, I’m on board. One thing you can be sure WILL change on any future edition of the novel:

This cover will be no more.

Legacy Writing 365:246

Last week when Lindsey and I were going through her Aunt Gwen’s sewing box, among the first things we admired and checked out were Aunt Gwen’s pinking shears. They were stainless steel, nice and heavy, and imprinted with the word “ELK.” I checked that out, and ELK was a Japanese manufacturer who supplied cutlery and scissors to the Griffon Cutlery Corp. in New York. Their earliest pinking shears retailed for sixty-nine cents! You can still find used and mint vintage pairs online for a range of prices.

After my mother died, I couldn’t find her pinking shears. I don’t know if they just got so dull that she threw them out or they were misplaced. I bought a pair of my own when I began doing the Runway Monday stuff. Over time, I’ve also found that I needed to upgrade my scissors. I recently took them out and sharpened and cleaned the ones that are used a lot, and some of them have a little history–of course!

The Scotch® Titanium scissors were a gift from Scotch® after one of the Junes that I participated in 30 Days of Creativity. These scissors are probably some of the best I’ve ever used, whether on fabric, paper, or photographs. Going forward, if I need scissors, I’m checking out the Scotch® line first.
I have no idea who manufactured these scissors. I bought them when I first began doing Runway Monday. I like them, but when I realized I was going to be sewing a lot more than I’d expected and invested in a better pair of fabric-only scissors, these became my backup thread and pattern cutters.
These are my current number-one sewing scissors from Singer. Nice and heavy in the hand, but precise on all weights of fabric, these scissors make me feel so bad for my mother because she never splurged on a good pair of scissors. I have several pairs of her scissors and a couple of pairs of my own not pictured here that are tucked in various places where okay-not-great scissors might come in handy (like the garage). Nobody gets to use these Singer scissors but me, and if I see them in anyone else’s hands, I will gently trade them for either numbers 1 or 2.
These are the pinking shears I mentioned buying after Runway Monday started. They are great to keep small pieces of fabric (doll clothes!) from fraying, but these are not the best. Eventually I’ll probably invest in a better pair.
When I was in fourth and fifth grade, my father was teaching in the ROTC department at a South Carolina college. Sometimes on summer nights, he’d go back to work, and he occasionally took me with him. Most of what he was doing had to do with copying lessons and tests for his students on mimeograph and ditto machines, which were in the building’s basement. He set me up at a desk with pens, pencils, and all the paper I could dream of. Besides regular white paper, some of the sheets were onion skin and clear plastic; others were silver and blue papers. I don’t know what they were used for, but I was always cutting them into pictures and shapes with giant scissors like these. He also let me write stories on the big old standard typewriters (none of these survive). I had so much fun with just the two of us being there. One night I was drawing when I noticed something dark moving on the gray-painted cement floor. Naturally my subsequent shrieks brought Daddy running, and it was the work of a few seconds for him to crush the giant palmetto bug under his shoe. As I said in my Button Sunday post, I don’t like roaches, but at least this one was part of a father-daughter bonding moment.
Like number 5, these are also government-issued scissors, and for years, they were the only pairs I remember being in our family’s house. Which meant that my poor mother was not only trying to sew with them, but she had a husband and three kids who were always taking them, leaving them where she couldn’t find them, and making them dull as we cut who knows what with them. Both these pairs of scissors were manufactured in Italy, and even though the insides of the blades are dark and discolored, when I sharpen them, they’re still quite functional. They wouldn’t work at all for fabric, though.
Finally, these scissors and No. 8 should look familiar to anyone who works in or knows someone who works in the medical profession. I probably have a pair of these tucked away with every craft project I ever started and never finished. They’re the scissors that are supposed to be thrown away at hospitals after they’ve been used or damaged, but they end up being cleaned and relocated to employees’ houses or houses of employees’ relatives. I have a set of hemostats that came to me the same way, and it’s amazing all the things hemostats can be used for that are not illegal. One of these pairs of scissors is always handy at my desk; the other lives in the medicine cabinet.

I never ran with any of these scissors.

Legacy Writing 365:245

Barbie wants to remind you that it’s game day. I’m not sure who she’s rooting for…

Though I don’t have time to write a post since game/snacks/card night is happening at The Compound right now, I can at least dip into the photo archives for a game day in Tuscaloosa back in the Tithonian age.

My parents would be so proud of my posture! 😉

Legacy Writing 365:244

When our friend John died in 1996, his roommate Charlie shared a story at his memorial service. He said he’d once been told that when we lose someone to death, it’s important afterward to “watch for the signs” that show us comfort is being offered–perhaps even as messages sent by the ones we’ve lost. The day after John’s death, Charlie was on a transatlantic flight when a woman he’d never seen before placed a small green stone inside his palm. “I can sense that you’re sad,” she said. “This will help comfort you.” Of course it did, because for Charlie, that little stone was a gift from John.

I believe in those kinds of signs, too, and have my own experiences with them. Recently my lifelong friend Riley, who died a few months before my mother in 2008, has been very much on my mind. There are so many times I wish I could pick up the phone and call him. I want to hear his unique perspective on things that have happened this year–the stuff only he would say.

Several times I’ve blogged about Riley and our connections, including the Beatles. One post was this memory about Riley, George Harrison, and me.

Tonight Tom came in and handed me a guitar pick he found on the street outside our house.

Front and back of the guitar pick. Or vice versa.

Who knows who dropped it or when? As a sign, I’ll take it.

Thanks, my old friend. I have an album I should listen to now.

Beware of sadness
It can hit you
It can hurt you
Make you sore and what is more
That is not what you are here for
George Harrison, Beware of Darkness

Legacy Writing 365:243

When Uncle Roy was sick and after he died, Mother went to Memphis several times to stay with his wife, her sister Arliss. Aunt Arliss was already in her eighties and Mother was in her seventies, but both always had youthful, vigorous personalities. Aunt Arliss was usually a bit more serious–probably a case of older sister syndrome–but after a little time with Mother, they were like two girls together, laughing, teasing each other, and cutting up.

One evening Mother was doing the dinner dishes when Aunt Arliss took out the trash. She thought she heard a whoop and waited a minute for Arliss to come back inside. When she didn’t, Mother walked outside and looked around. Not seeing her sister anywhere, she called, “Arliss? Are you okay?”

“I’m in here!” Arliss yelled.

Mother looked around again and still didn’t see her. “Where?”

“I fell in the trash can!”

Mother hurried to the big plastic trash bin and found Arliss sitting inside it. They both started laughing so hard that it was quite some time before they had the strength to get her out.

“It’s okay. I always suspected you were a little trashy,” Mother assured her.

Legacy Writing 365:242

A few weeks ago I knocked my iPhone off my desk. The phone was fine, but a corner of the protective cover broke off and immediately began trying to shred my fingers when I held the phone. Which I do a lot, not because I’m talking on the phone–you know I’m not a phone person–but I do text (not while driving!), and I love playing Words With Friends, Draw Something, and Hanging With Friends. Lindsey and I are still tied for the worst Pegasus renditions ever in Draw Something.

One day Tim and Hanley picked me up to go phone case shopping. I was so blinded by sunlight that I barely got this crappy shot with my phone–and totally managed not to get the Apple logo in the picture.

Every trip to an Apple store is an adventure, and this was my first time to visit the one in Highland Village (I’ve only been to the Galleria store in the past). Do Apple employees love their jobs? Because they’re always so happy and friendly. They were also super nice to Hanley, who helped me look over all the selections and invariably went for something in pink or purple. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything there I loved except a Kate Spade case that was too pricey.

Then we went to Target, where I’d gotten my original iPhone cover for a great price, but there was nothing similar in stock. Since I couldn’t find what I wanted locally, I ordered the one I really wanted in the first place after seeing it in my Barbie Collector catalog. I’m sorry if anyone working in some warehouse in substandard conditions had to retrieve it for me. If it helps, I’m very happy with its retro illustration. Thank you.

Below are my vintage doll-and-fashion cases that the phone cover evokes.

This 1961 case is from the neighbor who gave me my first Barbies–her entire collection of dolls, clothes, accessories, and this case. I think it’s sad that there’s not a single picture of me playing with the dolls as a child, because it was such a kind and generous gift that gave me countless hours of happiness. This case is currently storing doll accessories from several decades.

This is Lynne’s doll case, manufactured in 1962. This is where Barbie’s bridal fashions and accessories are stored.

My mother also gave me a generic doll case for storage. It’s mostly empty right now–though my Mary Poppins doll’s fashion and accessories are in the drawers. I did find a pair of Barbie retro sunglasses inside it that I’d been looking for.

Another in the non-Mattel department is my Penny Brite case manufactured in 1964. I’m not showing you the inside, because all the dolls are there, and your fear of a gathering of Penny Brite dolls has already been documented.

Legacy Writing 365:241

Just a couple of “looking out” shots to remember times and places past as I cross my fingers in Houston and hope for a quick dissipation of Hurricane Isaac.

Tim looking over the Gulf from the pier in Long Beach, Mississippi, in 2004, a year before Hurricane Katrina destroyed it. We were there doing research for Three Fortunes in One Cookie. All along the Mississippi coast, we were welcomed and embraced by locals as they shared information with us.

Tim looking out at the mighty Mississippi from Washington Artillery Park in 2006, less than a year after the levees failed and Hurricane Katrina did her worst. We went there for Saints and Sinners and found a city struggling but plucky and determined to make a comeback.

I get agitated when I read ignorant things from people who don’t understand coastal topography, natural and constructed wind and water breaks and protections, and the historical reasons why coastal cities exist. I cherish Houston’s sister cities, towns, and communities along the beautiful Gulf Coast. Be safe!

Legacy Writing 365:240

Look! I finally got my beat-up red truck!

And the Universe laughs, because I didn’t specify size or function. But that’s okay. My other car is a super cool hippie van.

Peace and love!

I got those vehicles at a thrift store and cleaned them up to toss into the small box of toys for youngsters who spend time at The Compound. It began when Hanley was a wee one and Tim would bring her over to visit. There was nothing Hanley-friendly for her to enjoy. So I gradually collected some baby toys for her and Lila. Even though over time I’ve added older child toys to the box, I always laugh when they go for the baby toys with an excited “I remember this from childhood!” attitude. As Hanley told us in Target the other day when we passed the aisle of infant toys, “I’m not a baby anymore.”

Lila likes to play with cars from the movie Cars. I don’t know if she and Hanley will have any interest in the toy-box cars. But I like playing with them! As you can see from the photos below, no matter what we threw into the mix for the grandkids–all toys being available to all kids–my camera seems to have caught them falling into “boy/girl” choices. Maybe it’s for the best, since Gina used the gender-neutral croquet mallet to bash Daniel in the head.

ETA: Frequently after I post something, I’ll see an article about it within a couple of days. I hesitate to link to articles anymore because the comments are generally so deplorable. If you’re interested in reading more at your own risk, from cnn.com, When Kids Play Across Gender Lines by Emanuella Grinberg.