Legacy Writing 365:64

Today this remarkable woman would have been eighty-six, and I know that if she were alive and in good health, she’d still be:

  • making me laugh
  • giving me things to think about
  • jumping up to dance
  • telling stories
  • watching the news
  • getting into political arguments
  • lending me good books
  • reading good books
  • making me cry
  • wishing she could understand the TV remote
  • bragging about her grandkids/great-grandkids
  • dreaming she could travel to Europe again
  • sewing
  • missing my father
  • missing her parents
  • worrying about her kids
  • doing a crossword puzzle
  • driving me crazy
  • trying to find the right picture frames
  • plotting her next move
  • sneaking chocolate
  • balancing her checkbook to the penny
  • cleaning something in her house
  • especially vacuuming
  • doing something nice for me
  • baking biscuits
  • craving seafood
  • thinking
  • always thinking

Born on the same day as my mother, this young Pisces:


Happy birthday, Timmy! Still love this photo and you.

And happy birthday to the other people in my life born on March 4. It’s a big day!

Legacy Writing 365:63


These days, if this picture of your seven-year-old was put on the Internet, someone would threaten to call Child Protective Services because:

YOUR CHILD IS STANDING ON A CHAIR!

YOUR CHILD IS PLAYING WITH FIRE!

And you’re taking pictures of her while she’s doing it! We’re all gonna die!

Speaking of playing with fire, I can tell that I’m holding my mother’s Zippo there. Did anyone else, like me, love to snap open your parents’ Zippos and smell the lighter fluid fumes?

D’oh! Another reason to call CPS!

That china cabinet was one my mother had custom built when my parents bought the house in Georgia. It was her china cabinet for a long time, then when I was a teenager, she painted it white and put it in my bedroom. First it held my Dolls of the World collection, then my hippie stuff like incense burners and such, then books. Later she stripped off the paint, restained it, and used it again herself. When I was in graduate school, she gave it to me once more. Only in my many moves, it ended up in my brother’s apartment and he didn’t want to give it back. So I had to get a partner-in-crime to help me re-steal it when he was out of town. Heh.

It sits in my dining room today holding an eclectic array of serving dishes and all the liquor nobody ever drinks. Except that time Lisa from Iowa took a shot when we were playing 1000 Blank White Cards.

Legacy Writing 365:61

Dorothy

 

All the women in black and white
Fill our attics and dusty albums
Are tucked inside manila envelopes
With diplomas and marriage licenses

All the women in black and white
Took jobs for their country
Went without silk stockings
Wrote letters on men’s hearts
All the women in black and white
Well lit and softened
Hair brushed out from pin curls
Look wiser than their years


All the women in black and white
Our mothers and grandmothers
Have mysteries in their eyes
And secrets in their smiles

Elnora

I know how she feels…

Recently I was in Toys ‘R Us when a woman came around the corner into the aisle where I was standing. With her were two girls, presumably her daughters, approximate ages ten and six. The ten-year-old stared at a shelf full of some boy doll, saying his name over and over as she pointed to each box, finally ending the litany with, “All [whoever] and NO JUSTIN. Why is there no Justin? I just want a Justin.”

Trust me, this didn’t sound bratty when she said it. She clearly had her heart set on a Justin Bieber doll–seemed to have been waiting for it for a while–and was so disappointed not to find even one. And while this may not seem like a big deal to Bieber haters or grown-ups, then I suggest you recall that time you tried to get concert tickets only to learn they were sold out within minutes of going on sale. Or remember when you were willing to stand in line in the cold to get an iPhone that this ten-year-old wouldn’t give a crap about. Or think about the last time you went to dealer after dealer looking for the car you wanted. Or store after store trying to find the right shoes for a wedding.

I felt bad for her, and even worse later, when I was in a Walmart and saw shelves of the doll she was looking for. It made me wish I had her mother’s phone number.

One reason I feel her pain is because of the Monster High dolls. These dolls have been around since 2010. In fact, during the 2011 holiday season, you could find scads of them that hadn’t sold and were therefore showing up in Odd Lots and Big Lots, Marshalls and Ross, at deeply discounted prices. It was my seeing a set of them in one of these places that landed them (fruitfully!) on my Christmas list. Then when Marika made a special request that I use the Monster High dolls to do the challenges for the Project Runway All Stars, I thought, No problem. I’ll just pick up some more of the cheap dolls at the discount stores so I’ll have enough to do the whole season.

HA! Monster High is my Bieber! None of the stores that had them before Christmas had them afterward. They all sold. Furthermore, the Monster High shelves in Target, Walmart, and Toys ‘R Us have been wiped clean in the months since Christmas. Either people know when the shelves get restocked and are waiting for them, or store employees are snapping them up, because it’s damn near impossible to find any Monster High dolls. To get the ones I have, I had to go out every few days to a range of stores that’s included nine Targets, twelve Walmarts, and three Toys ‘R Us stores. Even so, two of the newer dolls were grabbed by Tim for me when he was shopping with Hanley one day in Target.

You can find the dolls online–if you’re willing to pay crazy eBay bid prices. And you can order them for premium prices from online retailers, except after reading about the working conditions in the shipping warehouses (not just Amazon’s, but also the warehouses shared by multiple retailers), I’ve decided I’d rather buy locally even from chains than order online. At least I feel reasonably sure sales associates and stock people in the brick-and-mortar stores I patronize aren’t being treated like sweat-shop workers.

I’ve been researching to see if I can figure out what exactly is going on with the Monster High dolls. So far, I can find a lot about shortages, but not why there are shortages, certainly not anything that explains Mattel’s place in shoppers’ frustrations. Monster High has a lot of online forums, and many of the girls express their annoyance that one person will buy all the dolls on the shelves, sometimes putting one away to save, while customizing the others. I think that’s less of a problem than the number of dolls being resold by speculators on eBay, so I’ve determined not to buy any there, either, in solidarity with frustrated ‘tweens, even if I can get them for low bids.

There’ve been certain of the dolls that seemed unaffected by the shortages. Our Kroger even had some of them. Finally, to ensure that I’d have enough dolls for a final collection, I decided to buy a couple of them and customize them. I’ve never been able to customize Barbies–there’s just something about changing a Barbie that doesn’t sit right with me–though I have altered many bargain Kens over the years. So if any Monster High fans show up here, please don’t hate me for buying and redoing these dolls. I wouldn’t do that to the ones you’re trying so hard to find (Toralei, Cupid, Spectra, and Operetta, among others).

Here’s the Abbey Bominable doll I used in one of my challenges:

I bought two more, deeply discounted, at Kroger:

Here’s what I did last Craft Night. Following this online tutorial, I used gold Liquitex on one doll’s hair, and black Liquitex on the other’s hair. (Human hair dye doesn’t work on the dolls, fyi.) Then I used other acrylics to alter their eye and lip colors.


How they look on either side of the original. The customized dolls are dressed in Mattel Monster High fashions, not clothes made by me.

Now I should have enough to create a final collection. And if anyone out there needs a Justin Bieber doll, I can tell you where they were two weeks ago.

Compound on Leap Day

I’ve been watching everything in our yard, trying to assess how much damage was done by last year’s drought and the winter that never came. Not a single freeze. The redbud flowered and now is leafing out, but I think it has a couple of branches that need to be removed to promote the tree’s health. One azalea bush in the front bed is blooming; the others aren’t. However, Tim’s azalea has exploded.

We’re still in drought conditions and will probably endure another heinous summer of dry heat. I’m not even going to hope for grass until conditions return to normal. If they never do, I’ve vowed to cover the dirt with artificial grass. This idea is met with derision and eyerolls from other people living on The Compound. The dogs don’t care. I say if it’s good enough for zillion-dollar sports fields, it’s good enough for me. It’ll be like the Pixie Vs. Squirrel Super Bowl out there.

I have a set of butterfly wind chimes that my great-niece Morgan gave me when I spent time with her in Gatlinburg a few years ago. It hangs in my office door with another set of chimes my sister-in-law Janet gave me for Christmas one year. When the ceiling fans are on, the chimes provide nice music. Ever since she was a little baby, they’ve fascinated Hanley. Today she let me take a new photo for comparison purposes.


Hanley, 2009


Tim and Hanley, 2012

As they were leaving:

Hanley: Bye, butterfly!
Becky: Bye, Hanley!
Hanley: Butterflies don’t talk.
Becky: That was ME!
Hanley: (same facial expression I get from certain people when I talk about artificial grass)

Legacy Writing 365:60

Tim tweeted a link to an article about Chrysler’s return of the Dodge Dart. I’ve mentioned my family’s Dodge Dart in other posts (2006 and 2011). Really it’s a car my brother and sister know more about because it was before my driving years. If I have the story right, it was customized to the specifications of another guy in the ROTC department of the college where my father was teaching at the time. When he was deployed and either couldn’t close the deal or needed to sell it, my father bought the car. I’m sure the smaller size appealed to my mother, who never liked driving our ginormous Chrysler because she thought it was cursed.

The customizing was what made it the perfect ride for a teenage boy: the engine was more powerful than the standard factory engine. More pick up. More speed. My brother implies that my sister’s making up her stories of terror with David behind the wheel, racing trains and such. I don’t know. He looks like such an upstanding young man next to the Dart.

I have a birthday coming up if someone wants to buy me one of these. The car, I mean. I’m satisfied with the brother I have.

Anubis!

Two or three weeks ago when I was on an errand run, I spotted this in the Galleria area. How handsome is he? LOVE.


In looking for info about the statue online, I found this from last November. I wish I’d seen him then, but I guess that’s what I get for avoiding the Galleria during the Christmas season.


Theron Linscombe, right, looks back at the Santa hat he and Adonay Vasquez, partially hidden, put on top of the 25-foot, 7-ton replica of the ancient god Anubis that was at the Museum of Fine Arts Houston, and transported to Post Oak Boulevard for the holiday season, Monday, Nov. 21, 2011, in Houston. (AP Photo/Houston Chronicle, Michael Paulsen, via The Daily Edit.)

Legacy Writing 365:59

She was probably in first grade here, the same year my brother was born. The photo's a mess because my father carried it in his wallet.
Daddy carried this one in his wallet, too. I don't know if this is her high school or college graduation photo.
She's with her high school sweetheart. On this Christmas, I'm three, and I swear I remember adoring them both. The books on the table next to Jane Jane, and the art on the walls over the fireplace: I still have all of those.
Here, Daddy's meeting her first child, a son.
By now I'm in college, and her second child is a daughter.
And the baby is another daughter.

My Cousin Rachel was one of my first role models. I love her laugh and her sense of humor. Her honesty. It’s effortless on my part to summon up her beautiful Southern accent and the way she says certain words and phrases. When I was little, I wanted to do everything she did and be her, with her gorgeous clothes and endless (to me) boxes of shoes. I wanted to play the piano like her, so her long-suffering mother, who also played, would let me bang on it when I went to visit. I even wanted to grow up and marry her boyfriend Charles.

She was always kind to and patient with the little girl who idolized her, and my parents were crazy about her. My brother and sister were in her wedding to Charles. She and Charles are still together and as gracious and fun to be around as ever.


She’s one of the most beautiful people I know and still one of my role models. Happy birthday, Cousin Rachel!

Related: Cousin Rachel’s Wedding

Legacy Writing 365:58

I’m pretty sure that you could search the planet and not find two better human beings than Tom’s sister Katie and her husband Michael: compassionate hearts, great senses of humor, pleasant dispositions, impeccable manners. I mean, if it weren’t for Katie’s strange choice of graduate school (Auburn) and Michael’s bizarre enjoyment of running in marathons, I’d call them perfect.

For a while in the 90s they lived in Dallas, a distance close enough that we could see them occasionally. Of course, when they came here, they had to endure the company of the single being who wasn’t impressed by all their fantastic qualities: Pete.

Pete didn’t like most people, but he did have a “Tolerate” list, and most of Tom’s family made that list. Katie, however, did not. We can trace their first run-in to a visit at the Tom Family Home, when his brother held Pete toward Katie, expecting what, we’re not sure. But certainly not expecting Pete to be willing to take a bite of all that sweetness. From then on, Katie and Pete kept their distance from each other. Including a 1999 visit, when Michael got to enjoy his round of Pete adventures. While Michael sat on the couch, Pete would jump up and stretch out next to him. He’d even let Michael pet him.


Proof.

Then, for no apparent reason and without warning, Pete would become his bitter enemy, growling and otherwise threatening him. As Michael wrote later, “With Pete, it is always a new experience.”

Katie fared much better with Stevie, who, much like Katie, was always ready to be a good friend.

Today is Katie’s birthday, and I hope it’s filled with Stevies. And if there’s a Pete or two, I know Michael will run interference. Happy birthday, Katie!