Monday, December 24, 2012

you said what?

Getting old presents a real challenge in communicating. Every day Stevie Wonder and I struggle to communicate in a way that is conducive to maintaining our relationship. In other words, we try not to piss each other off too much. Somedays are more challenging. It all depends on what is being said, and what we think is being said.

Most of the time we are alone in our daily struggle. Sometimes we have a witness. Which may or may not be a good thing. Today it was a good thing.

I was headed to the kitchen, and Stevie Wonder said "getting laid at Christmas is an awful thing." That is what I heard. So I turned and replied to what I thought I heard.

Me: Getting laid at Christmas is bad? Why do you think that is a bad thing?

Wretch started laughing at this point...that should have clued me in...

Stevie: NO! I SAID getting laid OFF at Christmas is an awful thing to happen!

Me: oh...

I think we may have to start drawing pictures for each other...

~life is good... cath
I am @jonesbabie on Twitter


Friday, December 7, 2012

john and the sunset

I got home before dark yesterday, and unusual thing for me at this time of year when the sky darkens so early.  As I turned into the road leading home, I saw a beautiful fiery sun and clouds that were ablaze with the reflection from it.

I raced into the yard, jumped out of my car, and ran toward the house.  Stevie Wonder was standing on the porch watching me and asking what was wrong.  I told him breathlessly nothing and I would explain in a minute.

I knew every second counted and the sun would be gone quickly.  I grabbed Big Girl and ran back outside, and then out of the yard and back up the road, trying to find a higher spot to shoot from.  I turned back around when I reached the optimum spot and realized I was just seconds too late.  I took several shots, but the sun was behind the horizon by then.

Then I heard a small voice.  Not the voice in my head, a child's voice.  Faint, from a distance, saying the same thing over and over.

"Hey Grammy!  Hey Grammy!  Hey Grammy!"

I looked toward the end of my house and could just see him coming.  John.  The youngest grand.  On his electric four wheeler.  Riding toward me.

He got to the edge of our yard and climbed off his four wheeler and ran to me.  He hugged me and I kissed his face that was covered in the dirt he had played in all day, and then he noticed I was taking photos.  He started counting the trees I was shooting, then noticed the leaves in the road.  And the fun was on...

I started shooting as rapidly as I could, trying to grab seconds so I could adjust the settings on the camera, but John didn't slow down.  Finally I gave up and just did the best I could.  We played in leaves for a while, until I felt a mosquito land between my eyes and bite me.  I decided it was time to head home then.

John was not happy.  His Play-Doh face turned upside down and he turned on the drama.  I had to call for reinforcements.  Gramps.  Because Gramps and John have a special bond.  That guy thing.  Gramps had to threaten to pow pow his diaper (John's words for a butt spanking) before John finally gave in and went home.

Sometimes you just don't want the day to end.



...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter