Friday, August 19, 2011

Fragrances and memory: London

I've been enjoying my morning walks this week. The weather is a bit cooler, and the morning air has a hint of fall in it. I like to listen to music when I walk, but I also like to go without the ipod on some days and just t-h-i-n-k. Crazy, I know, but sometimes I feel like my head is going to explode because of all of the noises battling to get inside. It's nice to occasionally just breathe, in...out... and not have SOUND pumping furiously into my ears via those clever little earbuds.
This morning was a music-free walk. There was a dampness to the air this morning, and just a bit of coolness. I could smell the moisture, and then I could smell the exhaust from the school busses, and I was instantly inside of a memory. A memory of my time in London as a college student.
London has a smell to it. It is rain and diesel fuel, perfume and body odor. It is musty air rushing up at you as you enter the tube stations combined with the smell of roasted chestnuts being sold in aluminum foil packets on the street corner by Cockneyed-accented Londoners. It is the smell of vinegar and salt on the freshest fish and chips wrapped in the London Times. London is the damp odor of wet wool. I cannot remember a single thing about my time in London without also remembering the scents.
We lived in The New Atlantic Hotel for the semester, my little group of coeds and me. The hotel was a winding, twisting, layered concoction of several floors with dozens of staircases that often went nowhere. We were not the only college students inhabiting that hotel, but we were the only ones who didn't openly smoke pot in the hallways. I've never smoked a joint, but I know the sickly sweet smell of pot, and it is London to me.
One of my favorite places in London was Hyde Park, which smells like water, duck poop, and fresh air (always tinged with that scent of diesel exhaust). I'm a small town girl, raised closer to the country than to town, and London occassionally imprisoned me. When that happened, I'd escape to Hyde Park and read, study, and people watch. A piece of soft grass, an old towel to sit on, trees, water, books, and crazy people. There's no better show, no better venue.
London smelled more exciting at night. When the temperature began to drop, the crispness of the air seemed to bring out the scent of cologne on the necks of handsome men. It made the smell of a theatre seem more cultured. It even turned the scent of the tube into excitement. During the day the tube smelled like the people who rode the underground train to work: toast and jam, Earl Gray tea with cream, soap, morning breath. At night, the tube smelled like the people who rode it to play: beer, strong perfume, vomit, popcorn, and something I can only label as Excitement.
I can remember the sight of snowflakes falling on me from a night-darkened sky while I walked back to the hotel after a long day. They were the first snowflakes I'd seen in London, and they were important because it was December and almost time to go back home. Home to Oklahoma, home to Harding in Searcy. The smell of the air that night with the cold scent of snow made me sad. Sad to leave, but also sad because the snow smelled like home...and I missed home.
The fragrance of home, of childhood. Hmmm, maybe next post.
Fragrances and memories. They are all wrapped up together, aren't they?

Sunday, August 14, 2011

From Heaven

I am constantly reminded that my children have such a wonderful, unique view of their world. Last night the boys and I were driving home from Target (our happy place) when Alec asked what Grandmom looks like now that she's in heaven.

Alec tends to ask things at seemingly random times, though if I work hard enough I can usually trace his thoughts back a few minutes or hours or days. For this conversation I didn't have to trace too far. For the past few minutes we'd been discussing the word "amnesia" because he'd heard it somewhere and wanted to know what it meant. After I explained the definition of the word, Alec had said, "So... it's kind of like Grandmom."

Of course, that brought about another round of explanation. So after we discussed the differences between amnesia and Alzheimers, he said, "I'm glad Grandmom is in heaven now because she has all of her memories again. And she remembers us now." At this point I had to open my eyes extra wide to allow the tears to sink back in a bit. Then he said, "So, what does Grandmom look like now that she's in heaven? I think she's young again, but maybe not too young, but definitely not sick and in bed."

Then my sweet Zachary chimed in on this discussion and said, "I think we probably get to choose what we look like when we get to heaven. I mean, maybe it's like picking out toys or clothes, and you get to pick out what you want to look like. That'd be cool."

I said, "Yes, that would be cool. I think I'd pick out the 20 year old me." Alec said, "I bet Grandmom picked out the 20 year old her too. Poppa Jim would like that I think."

Oh, those boys. They are such insightful, wonderful little creatures. They are such blessings. Even when they make me crazy (a daily occurance), I cannot imagine my life without them. My mom thought they were just about the best things ever. I wish they could have had her healthy and whole for much, much longer. I know she's still loving them from heaven.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Feelings

So today is the third day of school, which means this morning was the third morning of waking up at 6:45. It didn't go so well. Here's the irony. All summer long, on days when no one HAD to be awake by any certain time, Alec-the-stinker was in my room stage-whispering "CAN I WAKE UP NOW?" by 6:30 or 6:45. Every morning. In a super happy mood. Since school has started? Not so much.

This morning while he was eating his happiest breakfast - the one that is almost a surefire guarantee to put a smile on his face -- Frosted Flakes, (I know, I'm a bad mom) he was STILL grumbling and grousing into those sugary flakes of goodness. So I told him, "Alec, time to go change out of those cranky pants and put on some happy ones."

His response? "I'm not wearing any pants. And these are NOT cranky undies." He took a moment to check out the undies in question and then said, "They are CAMO undies."

Feelings. It was a toss up between humored and frustrated, but that is a constant state of being in this household. I'm eternally humorously frustrated by my wacky children.

Monday, August 8, 2011

First Day

Wow. It just doesn't seem possible. I'm the mother of a 5th grader and a 1st grader. How can my little Zachy be 10 years old and in his last year of elementary school?! How can my baby already be in first grade?!

Every year when I take their first day of school pictures they show me their grades by holding up that many fingers. Alec was excited this morning because he got to hold up a 1. Kingergarten and preschool were kind of difficult to illustrate. And this is the customary "show me your backpack" picture. I love to do these because some day Alec will not be that much shorter than his big brother!



Zachary was out of the car and down the sidewalk in a flash. He did NOT want me walking him in today.




Thankfully Alec was completely fine with Mom walking him in and taking pictures. This is his new teacher Mrs. Potts.



And here's my baby ready for his first day of first grade.




Prayers for a year of knowledge, friends, and blessings!

Family Fun Weekend



Last year we began the first annual "Weekend of Fun" before school started back. This past weekend was our second annual family fun weekend. We decided to visit the River Park on Mud Island on Saturday morning.


Riding the monorail was pretty cool. It was neat seeing the Pyramid and the Mississippi Bridge from that viewpoint.




The riverwalk itself was pretty disappointing. It was extremely dirty, mucky, yucky. There was even a dead bird just lying on the concrete beside the "river." Thankfully, the view, the paddleboats, and the museum salvaged the visit.







The boys LOVED the paddleboats.





My boys are getting so big. I cannot believe that Zach is a 5th grader and Alec is already in 1st grade. It's a cliche, but so true that time goes by far too quickly.







My favorite part of the weekend was dinner at the Melting Pot. I always enjoy this dining experience. I mean, HellOOO, chocolate fondue! The boys got excited when the fondue pot started to steam.











Other activities this weekend were Build a Bear (for Alec) and Harry Potter 7.2 (for Zach). We ate great food all weekend, which was fun because we've all been eating very healthy for the past month. The boys were excited about donuts on Saturday morning because it had been ages since I'd allowed that indulgence. I'm getting us back on the healthy eating today, but the weekend's food was certainly fun.


It will be fun to continue this tradition each year. I know the activities will change as our boys grow and develop into young men. I'm sure Build a Bear will not be a "cool" activity for much longer, and I'm not sure how long Harry Potter will be THE obsession for Zach. I just want to cherish each stage of their lives because I know I'll be sending them off to college before I'm ready!

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Father Fright



My dad is scaring me.



He is not doing very well right now. I worry about him constantly, and I deal with guilt for not being closer to home. He's having problems with his kidneys, which is not a new thing, but it is a chronic, debilitating thing. He's in stage 4 renal failure, and since there are only 5 stages and the last one is the "it's time for a transplant or daily dialysis treatments," stage 4 is bad enough. He's also having heart troubles. He's been diagnosed with congestive heart failure, and we've learned that his heart is only pumping about 30% of the blood in his body out of his heart.



This is an interesting fact because his body is chronically anemic. He's currently admitted to the hospital in Pauls Valley getting a blood transfusion because he was at least two units short of blood. They may actually put more than two units in him tonight.



He has an angioplasty scheduled in two weeks. I'm hoping and praying that this procedure will provide us with some solutions to get my dad back on his feet. I need him healthy and strong. He's only 64 years old! Please keep him in your prayers. I can't lose him too.

Good F words

Hey! Not all F words are bad. The best words in the world are family, fun, food, and fabulous! I'm challenging myself to expand my own appreciation of the fabulous F words out there. I'm starting a list of words that I'll eventually write about. Let me know if you think of another fun one.



Family ~ Father ~ Fast ~ Fanatic ~ Fanciest ~ Festive ~ Fanciful ~ Freedom ~ Friday ~ Flower ~ Flagrant ~ Fixable ~ Forceful ~ Forbidden ~ Foray ~ Foppish ~ Fledgling ~ Frappacino ... hmmm... maybe ?