I SEE DEAD PEOPLE, AND SKELETONS, AND GRAVES AND GHOULS....

In Milwaukie on the corner of Johnson Creek and 43rd, is the Davis Graveyard. This family is REALLY into Halloween! They have an amazing display complete with some special effects comparable to Disneyland! Behind the gravestones there are scenes of ghost children playing tag, tossing a ball or playing follow the leader. In the forefront is a crypt where a skeleton child dances and giggles, and then his mother dances and sings a sad melody. A concrete head comes to life and talks, telling stories and jokes. Also in the background if you look closely is a man hanging from a tree who seems to come to life! It is so cool, eerie and well done! I was told that on Oct 30th and 31st a dance team will be there performing Michael Jackson's famous THRILLER! I am just wondering how big the crowds will be for that one! I have a slide show below this video clip for you to view the photo's I took of this spooky spectacle!

VISIT TO SOGGY..ER, I MEAN, SUAVIE ISLAND'S PUMPKIN FARM

Saturday, October 24th, I joined Sue (my best friend), Christina (Sue's daughter), and Brogan (Sue's grandson) to head out to Suavie Island to hunt for a pumpkin for Brogan's first Halloween celebration (he was too young last year!). Now it was a bit muddier than we expected, but we braved it! The pumpkins were out in a field, and the line for the hay wagon going out there was so very long, so we decided not to wait and to hike out there.
It did not look as far away as it turned out to be, and the ground was a bit soggier than expected as we hiked out. We had to pass a large cabbage patch, and they stunk--phewie! I do not like cabbage!!

But once we arrived where the pumpkins were scattered around in the field, Brogan set right in to hunting for a pumpkin to have the honor of decorating the front of his home. (Well, our real goal was to get a good photograph of him with the pumpkins. )

Grandma Sue enjoyed watching Brogan toddling around among the pumpkins. The vines were still all around on the ground and they do not make it easy for a toddler to stroll when he already is a bit unsteady. There were a few spills, but Brogan kept up the search.
Brogan and his three accomplices searched high and low for the perfect (and not too heavy!) pumpkin to take home to grace the York doorstep.
We fought off savage vines, rotted pumpkins, stinky cabbage, and slippery mud to reach our goal.
Brogan inspected them carefully for holes and damage. He was very thorough!!
If a pumpkin did not pass his inspection, we moved on and continued our search. Brogan is very thorough!!

"Nope! This one has an owie!"

"Hmmm....this one might be the winner...

Wait!! I think I see the perfect one over there!"

"Here it is! I found it! This is the perfect pumpkin for me! Hey grandma, come and get it! Mom, come get me. I have had enough of all these gnarly vines and mud!"

After lugging the pumpkin over to the waiting area for the haywagon (yes, we decided NOT to hike back to our starting point) we were glad we did not have that "the bigger the better" mentality! The hay wagon was not one of those old-fashioned ones pulled by a horse...now, this was 3 wagons hooked together and pulled through slipper, sloshy, gooey mud, all the time bouncing, bumping, and feeling like were were on the Matterhorn ride at Disneyland! Nana Rose hung on for dear life giggling and letting out an occasional yelp the whole way. Maybe walking would have been easier!

Once we safely reached our destination (thank the Lord!) we let Brogan enjoy romping through the hay maze, checking out the animals in the barn, strolling through the market (grandma bought corn on the cob) and picking out a baby pumpkin. We returned to the York home where Brogan had a bath to wash off.

Nana Rose was elected to paint the pumpkins for Brogan since no one wanted to volunteer to cut and clean them. We abhor pumpkin guts!
So armed with acrylic paint and Q-tips, Nana Rose set to the task to create the Jack O'Lantern's that would grace the doorstep. Not too scary and perfect for toddlers! Here are the pair all painted!!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN TO ONE AND ALL!!

THAT MEMORABLE FIRST DATE

Most women remember the very first date they went on. I know I definitely remember mine and very likely for reasons far different from what you might expect.

My first date was set up by my cousin, Lyle. His girlfriend (Carol, his wife now for many years) had a brother visiting who was in the Navy and older than me. I had just turned 18 years old. There was some talk with my parents and it was agreed that it would be a double date. I was nervously excited as I had never been on a date before, and here was this handsome older (but not by much) sailor taking me out! The evening started off with the four of us going to a restaurant to have dinner. It was nice and I did not have to make a lot of conversation because of eating so I felt comfortable.

Afterwards we went back to Carol's place and Lyle and Carol took off and left me with her brother (I, for the life of me, cannot recall his name. Maybe a mental block!!) Sailor suggested we go to see a movie, so we got into his vehicle and he drove to a theatre. Now, at 18 years of age, I weighed only 98 pounds and looked about 15 or 16. The theater was showing an R rated movie and would not let me in because I did not look 18 to them and I had no ID to prove it. So we tried another theatre and had the same experience. Sailor suggested a drive-in theatre (lots of those then in S. Calif) as he figured they would be less likely to ask for ID. I was feeling rather foolish and embarrassed and prayed that we could get in. Fortunately they were showing a Disney movie and I was admitted--yahoo!
We found a spot, hung the speaker on the window, and settled down to wait for the movie to start. There was music playing and we chatted some, but being shy, I was finding it very difficult to keep a conversation going, and even more difficult to make it interesting.

I kept remembering my dad's comments about boys "being after one thing" and was feeling nervous and wary.

When the movie started, I settled in to watch it and felt thankful to have the break from trying to keep a conversation going. All was going well until Sailor moved a little closer to me (the front seat was a bench seat). I felt butterflies in my tummy and heard my heart beating in my ears.

After about 20 minutes he reached one arm up and placed it around my shoulders.

I froze, held my breath and felt so anxious and terrified...what was he doing? What was he going to do? What should I do? Is he going to try to kiss me? What do I do if he does?

All the turmoil going through my thoughts was affecting me and suddenly I whispered, "I don't feel...." and then I leaned forward and puked all over the floorboard.

Well, he immediately withdrew his arm (who wouldn't!?), muttered something about getting some napkins and vanished.

I felt so utterly embarrassed. Why did I do that? What do I say?

What must he think of me?

Oh Lord, I will never live this down!!

Sailor returned and, as I dashed off to escape to the bathroom, he cleaned the mess.

I sat in a bathroom stall silently crying, threw up again, washed my face and hands several times, and finally relented to the fact that I must return to the car. I could not hide out all night in the bathroom, and he might eventually come searching for me anyways. Then I would look even more immature and silly.

I finally returned to the car avoiding eye contact and muttered a soft "I'm sorry."

He announced that he was taking me home since I did not "feel good." The silence on the drive was awkward!! But what could I say!

When we arrived at my home, he got out, opened my door, and then said "Bye" as he hopped back in and left. He did not even walk me to the door. Of course, I did not blame him. I could hardly have expected a hug or a kiss after that!!!

When I entered the house, my mother was there and she said she was surprised to see me home so early. With that statement, I burst into tears and between sobs eventually got the whole story out. I can remember looking at my mom at one point and she was smiling and then started to laugh a little! Okay, now looking back, I do find it very funny, but for me then, this was traumatic. I announced that no one will ever want me, and that I was going to become a nun. Mom, a bit of laughter in her voice, simply answered this statement, "Rose, we are not even Catholic!" She then kept reassuring me that all would be well, that I would eventually be okay and that this was not the end of the world. She said my next date would be better.

Now, I would like to say that my next date was better but.....yes, I did it again!!

The young man (in post A Blushing Rose, Wednesday, February 25, 2009) must have liked me because he asked me out again after I had adorned his floorboard with my stomachs contents! And he asked me out even after I did the same thing a 2nd and 3rd time!!

Yes, I did finally stop the retching and settled down to realize he was not going to attack me or hurt me. In fact, he always treated me like a lady!

We did not stay together, but did stay friends for a long time, and when he met my husband, who I was engaged to at the time, he told him that I was a "sweet lady" and the one he "never had." For a guy to admit that is unusual!! They usually brag about conquests whether true or not!

Yea, that first date was memorable...what was yours like?

PROUD TO BE LIKE MOM

The photograph to the left is of my mother as a young girl.
Below it one of her now.
The one on the right is of me as a young girl, and below of me now.

Throughout my life people have often commented,"You look just like your mom." Of course, when you are young you do not want to hear that! Look like my mom! She's OLD! I don't look like an old lady!!

We take it literally and not figuratively. But through the years I have had to admit to the similarities (the nose being the unfortunate one and we blame her father for it!).

Now my dad would say we are also similar in the gift of gab, but we argue that point! I am proud to say I am like my mother because she is one of the kindest, most caring people I know. My mother has always been there for her friends and family. If you needed a hug, a shoulder to cry on, help cleaning your home, whatever...my mother would do what she could for you, and she continues in this way. Whenever people give me a comment by saying I am nice or kind or patient, I quietly thank my mother for instilling that in me. I am happy to be like my mom.

FASHION PLATE...NOT!

This picture show my dad with my son, Jimmy.
No one can accuse my father of ever being on the "best dressed" list. He has a style all his own. He is a jokester, loves teasing, and can tell a good story.

One time when I was visiting my parents, my mom announced we were going out to dinner and told my dad to go change into some decent clothes (he was in his casual hanging-around-home duds). He sauntered off to the bedroom and a few minutes later emerged wearing a t-shirt with a partially clad woman pictured on the front. My mom took one look and announced, "Harold, I said to get on some decent clothes! I am not going out with you wearing that!" I just had to laugh because I knew my dad did that on purpose to get a rise out of my mom. With a big grin on his face he replied, "This is clean. I just got it out of the closet." My mom nudged him down the hallway to change again!

As I said, my dad loves to tease.

And my father is one of the brightest people I know. He has no college degrees but can carry on intelligent conversations about so many subjects that it always amazes me. He is also very talented! For years he has built many very detailed radio control model airplanes. I was always amazed at how he could cut out all those pieces of balsa wood and put them all together to look just like an airplane or jet. The stunts he would do with them had me awestruck as well.

He was the first in our family to get a computer and learn all about the Internet when it first came about. I was afraid to even turn on a computer then, but he would teach me things on his so that I eventually felt comfortable and got one of my own.

When I was a kid, he was the "go to" man in the neighborhood. He could repair just about anything. When a neighbors vehicle was having problems, they asked dad for help. Now, he did have a dislike for Volkswagen's (bad experience with owning a VW van for a very short time) and when the neighbor girls would ask him to fix their VW bugs, he would always tease them saying that the best thing they could do would be to take them to a junkyard. But he would help them.

One time a little neighbor girl, Cynthia Simpson, asked my dad what he ate for breakfast. He announced that he eats little girls for breakfast. She was very wary of him after that and would always ask "has your dad had his breakfast yet?"

He was a very handy man about the house as well. My 3 siblings and I have often turned to dad for help with just about everything--putting in flooring, replacing garbage disposals, repairing furniture--everything.

Whenever something happens here at my home now, the first thing I always think is, "I sure wish dad were here. He could fix this." In a way, my dad has always been my Superman.