Yes, tonight I am actually doing a Five Minute Friday with 70+ other Five Minute Friday Bloggers – LIVE!!! We are gathered with 400+ other Women Bloggers at Allume in Hershey, PA!!!
We are all awaiting the “word of the week”…So here we go!
Well hello there, bloggity friends! Do you remember me? It’s been way too long that I have been here with ya’ll! The couple months have been quite a whirlwind, to say the least. When I realized how long it has been that I haven’t been here “chatting” with you, I was sad. So, I’ve decided to kick it into gear and get back into the saddle so to speak. (Literally, so to speak – because me and horses don’t do well!)
I do want to thank all of you who sent us prayers and well wishes through April and May when my hubby’s father took a turn downward in his health and then passed away on May 15th. It was a sad time of course, but my hubby is at great peace knowing that his dad is out of pain and discomfort and resting with Jesus in Heaven. I shared all of your kind words with him and he was touched. From our family to you, thank you, thank you!
Though I have been gone from here a tad too long, as is usual for me I have been laughing myself through that absence! You that have followed along with me for a while know that I can always find something to laugh about even when it seems there is nothing to laugh at.
For instance, here’s just one example of a laughingly good time had through a most sad time. I decided to make a photo board to have at the graveside service since we did not do calling hours for my father-in-law. I told my husband that he needed to come help me. His comment was, “No, you’re the one into the scrapbook stuff, you do it.”
To which I replied, “Nope, it’s your dad and I want you to pick out the pictures.” However, what I was up to is that I knew going through the pictures would be so good for him and I wanted him to have the choice in the photos that would be on the board. Well, in no time we were sitting downstairs with photos all over the table and digging through more and more! We were laughing and remembering some really funny times with his dad. My hubby always says he doesn’t have a good memory, but those photos sure helped prove him a little wrong. Quickly, he was able to recall some pretty hilarious stories about his dad or things his dad has said. We were laughing. And laughing hard!
Are you a photo taker? Do you find that having those photos help to bring back memories for you as well? What do you do with your photos – hang them up, scrapbook them, put in boxes?
It’s good to be back here with you. In case you thought that I’ve flew the coup, I haven’t. I’ve been here, laughing my way through life and collecting some more stories to share with you to cause YOU to become “Tickled Pink” right along with me!
…and that’s all I have to say about that!
But wait…one more thing – what have all of you been up to lately, besides cooking in this heat? Please share, you know I love hearing from you!
In case you haven’t noticed, Baseball season is upon us. While watching the Indians game last night with hubby, I thought of an occurrence back in the day that “Tickled” me – then just turned me into a laughing fool as I tried to retell it to him.
Back in my late teens/early twenties, my girlfriend asked me to join her softball team as they needed more players. I thought, “yeah, why not? That sounds like fun!” And so I did.
I had never played on an organized and somewhat “official” team other than in gym class, so I would be considered a rookie. A rather wet-behind-the-ears rookie at that.
Our coaches, Mr. B and Woody, were the most gentle, helpful and extremely patient coaches I think I have ever met or seen. Of course, they probably needed to be so with a team of estrogen like ours!
Now, let’s be honest here. I am a competitive type, but I have to admit that I only joined for the fun. I’m always a party ready to happen. And truth be told, I wasn’t “in it to win it”! The other thing you need to know is that I am right handed. Just sayin’!
We went through a few weeks of practices. We did drills on catching, batting, trying everyone new out in positions to see where the right fit was. Some were seasoned players and they knew where they would be. The rest of us needed to be figured out. I, personally, was looking for where I could find the most conversation! HaHa Needless to say, when they put me in Left Field the first game or two, I quickly told them it was not a good fit. I mean, c’mon, do you ever see much fun happening out there?
I found a new home at Home Plate. I became the Catcher. Mr. B. decided to try me out there. I liked it. Except when we had the grumpy ol’ umpire that didn’t want to know what my day was like, geesh!
We were doing okay as far as wins/losses. Weren’t the number one team, but weren’t the last place team either. Then came the day when we had an away game. We went out for some warm-ups, did some catching from the coaches and got ready to play.
Then it’s my turn for my first “at bat”.
I walked up to the plate and stood to the right of the umpire and catcher. All at once I hear my coach yell my name and I turned around. Mr. B is shrugging his shoulders and has his hands up in the air. I yelled back, “isn’t it my turn?”
I turned back around and heard my team mates yelling, so I turned back to the bench again. They were all waving their hands in a gesture that I translated to mean – hit it way out there. I wave back and yelled, “I got it!”
The umpire grumbles, “you ready?”
I said, “yep, let’s go!”
The pitcher pitched the ball and I hit it way out into center field. I flung my bat and took off for first base. I’m safe. I looked back at the bench thinking they will be excited for me and they are all laughing and shaking their heads. Both coaches are just smiling and shaking their heads as well. Of course, I’m wanting to walk over and find out what’s so funny, but I have to wait. And wait…
Next girl up, sent it over the fence and off I went. She made it to third, I crossed home plate.
Huffing and puffing as I got to the bench, then Mr. B came over to me and said, “tell me, what hand do you write with? Are you a leftie?”
I replied, “no, I write with my right hand, why?”
At this point, he threw his hands in the air, threw his head back and laughed. I looked over at the other coach, Woody, and he had his hand over his eyes, with his head down and is shaking his head.
I looked at the girls on the bench and they were all laughing. I have now gotten ticked because nobody is letting me on this little joke. I yelled, “what the heck is everybody laughing at?”
Mr. B finally composes and said, “why did you walk up to that side of the plate?”
I replied, “what do you mean that side of the plate?”
Mr. B said, “if you are right handed, why did you walk up to that side of home plate?”
I looked at the bench and they are dying. I looked back at the coaches and said in all seriousness, “well, when I walk over to home plate from the bench, I always walk right up to home plate, stand there and wait for a pitch. That’s what I did today, what’s wrong with that?”
Well, everyone caught the problem but me! Mr. B shook his head again and says, “well, if that works for you, just keep doing it!” Then walked away shaking his head.
I finally am frustrated enough and asked coach Woody, “I’m not catching this, what was the problem?”
Woody, with the straightest face he could said, “well, this is the first game we have been on this side of home plate and you walked up to the plate and batted left handed.”
I pondered this enlightenment a moment, and then replied, “Oh.”
I have to say that when I got up for my second at bat, the pitcher was confused as all get out as I went to the correct side of home plate for a right handed batter. She looked over at her coach as he checked his book, looked at me, looked at the book and just shook his head.
Yeah, I hit that ball that was pitched to me, too.
And made it to second base.
…and that’s all I have to say about that.
We have all probably heard the old wives’ tale: If March comes in like a lamb, it will go out like a lion or if in like a lion, then it will go out like a lamb. Yet, here in Northeast Ohio, March has come in more like a lioamb or would it be a lamion.
March 1st and 2nd were rather non descript. Not really a lion nor a lamb in terms of weather designation. A little cool, some flurries, warm sun, then breezy cool air again. That was just March 1st!
So, does that mean that all of March will be the same way? Everyday is a roll of the dice as to what we will have. Sometimes it matches the weather man’s prediction and sometimes not.
Those of us with sinus issues are having a wonderful time (cough-cough, insert sarcasm here!). We walk around with headaches. The weather stays the same a day or so and our headaches subside. Then, the weather changes again, another headache comes. Welcome to the land of ever changing weather and persistent headaches. Yay Ohio!
My husband lovingly calls me during spring and fall, “my own little barometer head.” Which in my own warped mind, I have decided that it is a term of endearment. Not in any way a sarcastic attempt to say, “girl-you’re all messed up.”
As I sit here typing away, looking out the window, it has once again started to snow. It’s the big flake, fluffy, pretty kind that doesn’t really stick to the ground. THAT kind of snow I could handle a lot of. However, as with most weather here, this won’t last long. While we have light blue skies, a little gray cloud that moves over every now and then and drops some white fluff and a super high temperature of 28 degrees – have no fear my friends, tomorrow it is supposed to be sunny and 50 degrees!
I gotta go. There’s a huge glass of water and a bottle of Motrin with my name written all over them!
…and that’s all I have to say about that.
Have you ever wondered why someone couldn’t understand you? I mean, you both are speaking English. Both of you were raised right here in the good ‘ol US of A. So why is it that we just can’t always understand what the other person is trying to say. I pondered this recently when I was visiting my mom in the nursing home. We were recalling a funny story of visiting her family in Virginia.
My mom was raised in Southwest Virginia and I was fortunate enough to spend many of my summers visiting my Granny (my great grandmother) with my mom and grandma who both lived in Northeast Ohio after moving here in the early 1950’s. During these wonderful summers, I found it easy to pick up how they spoke and never really gave it much thought that it would be considered a “different language” as I quickly spoke just like them! For those of you who don’t know me, I can talk with quite speed. Yet as I’ve grown older, I have learned to slow it down so people can understand me…sort of. Not true when I was a youngster! I could speed through a paragraph of story telling faster than you could say, “Pardon?”
So, imagine what it would be like to take my speed, add the southern “language”, bring me back to Ohio and place me in my school classes each fall! Yes! I got, “Excuse me, what did you say?” from many teachers, not to mention my classmates!”
So, with my being able to communicate with my Southern born and bred relatives with ease, it never occurred to me that my hubby or daughter would have a bit of a time especially when a couple of my cousins and I got together. When we talked, we could speed through a conversation faster than a tornado! One particular story brought hilarious laughter, then tears to my mom and I again the other day when I was reminding my mom of it.
I had taken my mom, grandma, hubby and daughter “down home” to Virginia to see the family. We had all been sharing stories of “remember when’s” and just talking a mile a minute. At one point in the conversation, my mom’s cousin Jim, who is her age, was telling tales about “up the road in them thar hollers”. He kept talking and talking until finally at one point my husband said, “What on earth are you talking about? What is a holler?”
There was a long pause. All the relatives slowly looked at each other. Then Jim finally looked back at my husband and said, “Boy, ain’t you never heard of a holler?”
“No, I have no idea what you are talking about,” said my husband.
“Well then, Tammy, let’s git in yer van and go show this boy, here, some hollers, ” Jim said.
And so we did.
My husband, daughter, cousin Jim and I all got into our van. Jim gave directions as I drove up into the hills to show both hubby and daughter the hollers. It was hilarious as Jim would give us all the “low-down” of what’s going on up in that holler or this holler. For the most part, the hubby was following what he was saying, although, looking in the rearview mirror, on occasion, I could tell he didn’t catch the drift! Many words had too much twang in them or slang that poor hubby just couldn’t keep up!
As we were making our way back up the main highway heading back to my aunt’s house, Jim was explaining to us the terrible tragedy that had been happening to the local cattle. This is the part of the holler tour that we still to this day make fun of my poor husband not “being able to understand the language!”
Jim: “We been havin’ a turible time with the cattle round heya. Seems the ranchers can’t for the life of themselves catch all these cow-otees runnin’ rampant in them there herds over yonder.”
Hubby: “Wow, what kind of cows are they, that they are running rampant?”
Jim: “Huh, boy, whatchu mean what kinda cows are they? Ain’t chu neva heard of a
cow-otee? Boy, ain’t chu got you some cow-otees in O-Hi?”
Hubby: “I don’t think so, what color are they?”
Jim: (Looking at me very puzzled) “How do I know what color they are, I’m not chasin’ em, I guess they are the color all cow-otees are. Boy, what’s wrong with you?…what color are they” he mumbles and looks at me with frustration.
Then I look in the rearview mirror as my poor hubby is looking into the fields we are passing.
I say: “Whatcha looking for?”
Hubby: “I guess a different looking cow over there in the field with the other cows.”
Jim: (now getting totally frustrated with my hubby) “Boy, what in tarnation are you talkin’ ’bout? There ain’t no cow-otees in the field today, they come out at night an attack the cows.”
Hubby: “Wait, what are you saying? Say it slow.”
Jim: “cooowww – oootteeeess, cow-otees. Boy you deaf? Tammy, why can’t this boy understand me? Ain’t ya’ll got cow-otees in O-Hi?”
Hubby: “I’m telling you, I’ve never heard of an animal called a cow-otee. Is it as big as the regular cows?”
Jim: “Ain’t no cow, boy, it’s a cow-otee! A cow-otee! You git it?”
Have I ever admitted to you that I’m an ornery girl through and through? Well, I am having an absolute blast watching this whole conversation that carried on for more than 20 minutes, I kid you not. I did a great job not cracking up though.
Hubby: “Tammy, do you know what he’s talking about?”
Hubby: “Will you puh – lease tell me what is a cow-otee?”
Me: “It’s a coyote.”
At this point, Jim shakes his head and says, “YES!”
Hubby: “Well Jim, why didn’t you just say coyote?”
Jim: “Boy, I been sayin’ cow-otee the entire tyme we been talkin’! You deaf?”
I guess it’s true that no matter where you go, you should always try to pay close attention to those you are speaking with, especially if you don’t speak the same language! But, I have to admit, it is rather hilarious standing to the side watching others try to understand each other when they don’t! Just too stinkin’ funny!
…and that’s all I have to say about that!