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Childhood Memories

Tim’s Amazing Travel Through Time

Stephy
August 20, 2014
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A true, heart-pounding account of my cousin Timothy’s mind-warped day.

It was Fall. The leaves on the Georgia ground were brown with sparks of vivid shades of orange and red of leaves that refused to die.

Like many weekends at this time, it was tradition for my cousin and I to live our moments with our grandparents to spend our curiously eventful time. Our Grandparents lived at the time, within a large retirement community. In this community, the homes all looked very much the same, which lead to some serious confusion at certain points for our imaginative young minds.

As I was saying, it was a fall day, and as always, my cousin and I wrapped ourselves up in the great out-doors of the massive housing compound. As I fell into my own little seven year old world of saving all of the insects of the world, Timothy wasn’t so concerned about the crucial expressions of my efforts. Off he floated, unbeknown to me, disappearing for an hour before meeting me back at Grandma’s house.

“I just traveled forward through time!”

Timothy burst through the door screaming his declaration, his eyes wide, his breath fast and his voice shaky as he stood, terrified. I dropped the freedom crying cat within my arms as Tim began to explain with great alarm his epically traumatic event.

“I was walking through the woods.” He began. The trees starting looking all the same, but I thought I was going the right way to get back to the house. I saw this house and went inside, thinking I was back a grandma’s.”

Timothy took in a breath, wiping sweat from his face as he continued his terror laced tale.

“This lady that looked like grandma but way older, came to the door and said I could come in for cookies. So I sat down and drank some milk too, while she talked about life going on.”

“I thought it was grandma the whole time…just with more wrinkles, and I didn’t understand why she was treating me like a stranger. I figured out I time traveled and I had to get back again!”
Grandma stood by listening as Tim continued, a comical little smile in her eyes as he storied onward.

“So, to make sure she didn’t keep me in the wrong time, I waited til she left the room…and then I ran for the door at full speed and back into the woods. After a few minutes I was back here again…back to the right time.”

He grabbed a piece of candy as he shook his head. “Grandma…you wouldn’t believe how old you look then.” He said, shaking his head and eating his crunchy peppermint bite.

Featured, Grandparenting

Being a Grandparent

Ruzicka/Altman Combo
August 19, 2014
No Comments

When my friends would talk about being a grandparent, I would roll my eyes (secretly of course, not in front of them.) I couldn’t figure out what the big deal was, after all wasn’t it the same “dirty diapers, throwing up all over you” routine? THEN I became a grandparent.

I understand now that being a grandparent is your reward for surviving your children growing up. When you are a grandparent, you get to see and enjoy the wonder of a child through the child’s eyes. Because your life is focused in another direction, now you have the time to enjoy what your grandchild sees and does. The wonder in her eyes as she sees a butterfly flitting past. The satisfaction you get as she calls out what bird is chirping, “Mumum, dat’s a wed burd!” because you have taken the time to teach her. The excitement as she watches a tomato she has been watering, ripen and she proudly takes it into her parents to show off her accomplishment.

Then when you are holding your littlest granddaughter who comes a long, and she reaches up with her tiny hands and touches your face and REALLY looks at you, your heart melts all over again.  You realize you once again have the privilege to share in a new life. She squeals with joy when she sees you and laughs when you tickle her belly. You could sit in a chair, with your feet up for hours holding her while she sleeps and you often do because you have the time. You sniff that fresh baby smell in her hair and skin and you are content.

Being a grandparent is all about sharing your time, your knowledge, and yourself. Because your days aren’t as consumed with the hurry, hurry, hurry of this busy world, you can give the gift of time. Because you have been on this earth for a while longer than the parents of your grandchild, your knowledge comes in handy.

You have the time to teach them, to listen to them, to share secrets and to enjoy the little people who have stolen your heart. That is what being a grandparent is really all about.

All Work, Some Play, Featured

My First (Goof Off) Summer Job

D. Wright
August 15, 2014
2 Comments

Although I had sporadically worked with my father on our family farm for most of my life – doing chores, working alongside him on various projects, etc. – I had my first real job when I was 17 years old. My parents had been constantly telling me to go out and get a real job, but I wasn’t interested. In my mind, I knew I would eventually work for the rest of my life anyway, so why rush into it when I still had the freedom to enjoy my youth? In my mind, as long as I could earn enough money for fuel by mowing my grandmother’s lawn or earning my keep by lightening my father’s workload, that’s all I really needed.

Then I learned about a temporary summer job remodeling my town’s local Walmart. I would only work from 9am to 5pm Monday through Friday, and I would get two hour (paid) lunch breaks to boot. It would be a great way to earn a lot of extra money in a short span of time, and when I found out most of my high school friends already got the job? I was all in. It would be like hanging out with my friends at work and getting paid for it!

I applied and was interviewed immediately. Within a week, I learned I had been chosen for the position, and started a week later. I thought the job was going to be one big party, but in reality? Yeah, it was pretty much one big party!

Although we stayed on task and finished our work every day, we goofed off as much as possible. On one occasion, a friend and I worked in the hardware department and had to install new shelves (which we painted in an old dog food factory a few times per week). From there, we had to organize the merchandise and apply the appropriate price tags on said shelves. We were telling jokes and working, until we found that one of the big boxes of merchandise we had to display was full of rubber mallets.

The result? We got into a huge rubber mallet fight every time we were alone in the hardware department – which was most of the day since we were stuck in the back of the tiny Walmart during a weekday afternoon. By the end of the day, we had so many bruises all over our bodies from hitting one another with the rubber mallets that my parents thought I got into a fight at work.

“No,” I replied, “we were just hitting one another with rubber mallets all day.”

After we had finished the remodel, it was time for a grand reopening of the store. A man an hour away brought a few mascot suits for some of the workers to wear during the day to interact with the customers throughout the day. One of the suits was a Keebler elf suit, and because I’m a shorter guy, I knew I had to wear it.

So I did, and I preceded to chase around children all day, kneel to one knee in the middle of the store with my arms spread and two packages of Keebler-brand cookies in my hands screaming, “who wants some of my cookies,” in a creepy, demonic voice several times per day, and generally make the entire store feel uncomfortable all day. Another friend and I, whom was in an M&M outfit, even staged a fist fight in the middle of the store’s reopening ceremony. Surprisingly, nobody was really angry.

Looking back, I was probably an annoyance to some of the adults at the store that summer – as were my other friends. But it was summer, we were young, and collectively, we wanted to make the most of the summer. It was my first real job, and oddly enough, one of the best jobs I’ve ever had.

All Work, Some Play

Jobs? We don’t need no jobs

Chael Miners
August 15, 2014
No Comments

I was talking to one of my former bosses tonight on Facebook and it just reminded me of some of the craziness surrounding the time when I worked for him. I have many stories about working there, but a few I’ll definitely have to keep to myself.

I was around 22 when I started working at his small Media and Advertising Agency. He only had 3 other employees when I started. Actually, I was never really hired. I just showed up with my laptop one day and just started making ads for some of their clients. I worked afternoons at Wal-Mart, so I went in there from 9-3 beforehand. After a few months, he started giving me a paycheck. And it was the most money I had made to date. I eventually was able to quit my job at Wal-Mart.

I was extremely happy to finally have a job related to computers and design. No more Wal-Mart, no more customers. It was exciting times. The company was on the bottom and we were moving on up. We had a perfect location next to the bank, post office, restaurants and bars. Everything was a quick walk away, and in 2002, banks and post offices were still relevant. If my friends and I decided to go out, we could always swing by the office at 2am, watch some tv and sober up a little.

Although things were good, the company experienced growing pains very fast. On pay day, the sales manager would race to the bank to deposit ad sales money before us, the production guys could get there. Even then, it was the luck of the drawl to see which one of us wouldn’t be able to cash our check. Eventually, the other two guys moved on. I hung on until the end, but at least I didn’t have to worry about bounced checks… for 2 months.

Ultimately, the salaried sales manager was sucking up the profits. He couldn’t keep his sales guys producing, so no money was coming in. In a last effort, the guy took payroll one weekend to a cas ino to try to save the company. Just like in ‘Empire Records’, he failed. I still remember that guys name.

I held on for a few more weeks, hoping I could help turn the company around. I got a new job at Kinkos to pay the bills, but I really wanted this company to succeed. I think I realized it was the end when I came in to work one day and my boss asked if I could help him move. When we had everything in my truck, I asked, “Where to?” and he replied “Back to the office”. Yes, my boss got evicted from his apartment and needed to move all of his belongings into the office. I actually stopped going in after that. I lost contact with him for about 2 years, thinking he would be homeless not too long after.

But, we did find each other a few years later. He is an idea man, and we always try to bounce ideas off of each other. It really is too bad things didn’t work out for us back then, because I think we could have had a great business today, 12 years later.

Entertainment

House of Cards Season 3 Spoilers; Frank is Finally in the Oval Office, What Now?”

das
August 15, 2014
No Comments

Kevin Spacey assumes the part of the ex boss whip and VP; Frank Underwood. He was a democrat in the arrangement and has practiced both savagery and some would say an exponential level of control and wanting to land him in the Oval Office without a solitary vote, coincidentally. House of Cards fans are biting the dust to see what is next after the climactic complete in season two when he was sworn into office. Notwithstanding, the greater part of the spoilers on the most recent portion of the arrangement are as of now simply focused around guess from a percentage of the lead parts and the show runner Beau Willimon.

House of cards is right now shooting and is slated to debut on an early 2015 date, most likely January. The show has dependably been about the ascent and ascent of Frank Underwood who went from being the boss whip to the president. Along the way, he offered a couple of individuals and by and large did a couple of things that had individuals heaving at the level of control and complete underhandedness ability. At this time he has genuine force and that will be something to see; a Frank Underwood with access to atomic triggers-Jesus! Then again, some piece of the fuel that made the show so great is the way that there was an alternate objective to climb to. He is at the top and that implies no place to go; pope perhaps? Yet at any rate, the show may begin to adventure different finishes. Clearly Frank will proceed with his tête-à-tête with the Polaroid and have more delicious allegories and expressions which make the demonstrate all the more agreeable.

Kate Mara expressed in a question that she would love to return as Zoe, or an alternate character or a phantom. The second choice is impossible as House of Cards has never gone the powerful route, at any rate not yet. Also, we may see visitor appearances from Potus, yes Obama may show up on the show; I mean Michelle is reputed to be showing up in ‘Diversion and Park’. Something else is that Doug may not be dead. The show did give the slant inside the most recent thirty minutes that he was killed by Rachel however that may not be the situation. The show will likewise investigate a deeper and darker side to Claire being the wife of the ‘Fallen angel’.

One thing you might make certain of is that House of Cards is digging in for the long haul and there will likely be a fourth and conceivably fifth season.

Featured, My First Vehicle

My First Automobile, My First Taste of Freedom

D. Wrright
August 14, 2014
1 Comment

I had just earned my driver’s license approximately six months before my 16th birthday in the summer of 2002. Because I would be able to drive on my birthday, I began to search around the classified pages of our local newspaper trying to spot a vehicle for sale. It became a ritual, and for a few weeks it was touch-and-go. One June afternoon, my father arrived from work and told me he had spotted a 1987 Nissan pickup that was in immaculate condition. We took a look at the truck that evening, and I knew it was the vehicle for me. The truck didn’t have a lot of perks: no power windows, the stereo didn’t work – it didn’t even have power steering! I didn’t care: it would be my truck – my first taste of true freedom.

Unfortunately, the price was a bit steep. Add to the fact that our family finances were not in the best shape at the moment, and it looked as if I wouldn’t be getting the truck after all. I understood. As much as it crushed me, I knew the previous winter had hurt our poultry farm financially, and my father’s siding business was in a slump. My father told me he was sorry, I said it was okay and I knew a new lead would present itself eventually, and that was the last time we talked about the pickup for a few weeks.

Fast-forward to the end of July. My grandmother was dropping me off at my home while my parents were away. They were at a dinner, and since I had been playing basketball all day with my cousins, I had missed them as they left. It was okay: I had a key to my garage and the backdoor of my home, so I knew I could walk inside.

What I saw in the garage made my jaw drop: there sat the pickup I had been wanting for weeks! I couldn’t believe it: here sat a truck – my truck – ready for me to drive the moment I turned 16.

I asked my father when he returned later that night why he chose to purchase the pickup despite the year’s financial hardships.

“Because you showed maturity when you didn’t get what you wanted,” he said. “I was so impressed that I wanted to reward you with the truck; to show you that goodness and maturity always pays off in the long run.”

It was a pickup wrapped in a life lesson, and even though I sold the truck years ago, remnants of the truck still stick with me today via the lesson my father taught me that July evening.

Childhood Memories, Featured

Steph and the Water Hole Crusade

stephie
August 14, 2014
1 Comment

It was a hot dusty afternoon in Africa when I and my friends had one of our seemingly brightest of ideas…to venture across the main road to the water hole. We were all about seven years old, you see, and the main road was in itself a good mile’s walk away. My childish heart knew that sneaking to the water hole would be a direct violation of my parents pre-dictated safety perimeter, but the leader of our pack was a good talker, as I was not going to be the only one to not go. So we set out on our hot journey as breezes of the Sahara blew softly from far far away around our dusty little feet and faces.

We finally arrived and it was a glorious sight, truly. We swam and played for hours, our toes getting lost deep within the cool thick mud of the bank as old cement structures left from factories built long ago sat scenically around the horizon. The hours ticked on and my young eyes began to sense a darkening to the sky. Dusk was approaching, I was always to be home before dark, and here I stood a mile away, drenched head to toe in watery mud. We all sped for home, parting ways as we re-entered the mission station compound. My heart pounded as I crept through the now thick darkness of night and tears of my coming punishment began to lace my eyes as I went inside.

The kitchen smelled of heavenly aromas as my mom stood cooking, and when she glanced over and saw my wet muddy countenance for the first time all I could do was cry, pouring out my wrongs in tearful woes before her. Mom almost seemed comical as she nodded. “Well go tell your dad, and we will decide if you get punished.” I ran outside to the work shed, smelling the familiar kerosene and cool cement smells of my dad’s outdoor office. Tears pouring from a tearful muddy countenance graced my dad’s sight and after I finished my explanations he almost seemed to laugh slightly in amusement. “Will you do it again?” He asked sternly as I immediately shook my head no. “Okay, then go get cleaned up for dinner.” I hid my joy as I ran for the shower. I hated baths but this time my heart was singing its freedom song.

Today I went where no child had dared gone before…and I had lived to tell my daring tale one more day.

Featured, Healthy Eating

The Child Was Safe

Trevis
August 12, 2014
No Comments

Both my wife and I are working for a multinational company and we had to leave our baby with a babysitter as a result of that. Both of us leave home early in the morning and we ask the babysitter to feed our baby with fast food. This happened for few years and until my child fell ill suddenly during his school time. We rushed to the hospital as soon as we got the news. To our luck, the child was safe.

Then I went ahead to meet the doctor personally and inquire about the health condition of my child. That’s where he explained that fast food is responsible for my child’s illness. According to the doctor, fast food is associated with a lot of unprocessed fats that do not get eliminated from our body in the regular way. Instead, they deposit in our bodies as fats, which can give life to a wide range of illnesses.

My child recovered within few days and we were able to take him home. My wife resigned from her work in order to be more hands-on with our kid. Every morning, she prepared a fresh glass of milk for him and included more and more fresh vegetables in the daily meals. Moreover, everyday she gave fresh fruits to the kid for his desert. If you are a busy parent, I encourage you to learn a lesson from my story and give more organic food to your kids instead of fat food. It will assist you to create a better environment for them.

Defining Family, Featured

Support. Respect. Understanding…

Kots
August 12, 2014
No Comments

I always believed there wouldn’t be anything big enough to separate me from my family…

What I came to find out is that family isn’t always who or what you think it is. Some people are adopted; some people grow up in “broken” situations and never really get what this “family” thing is all about, or what it is supposed to be, so I guess in a lot of ways I should say I am lucky for having what I had.

But Family is essentially just a word. It’s a word people use all too often to mean something that can’t really be said.

As a child I believed I was loved, but how silly one mistake can be, and how utterly devastating the fall out.
I married a man my family did not approve of and this family I thought I had, fell apart.

I still have nightmares about it. My husband tells me that “family” means something different than what I was taught, what I thought, you know about blood being important.

I was the type of girl that knew even if you were adopted (no blood), it didn’t make you any less of a member of the family.

Sure, mistakes were made. Or what if it wasn’t a mistake? I try to think of it like that, maybe there are no mistakes. Maybe this is just the universe’s way of leading me to a place where my true family is.

What is family? Love. Support. Respect. Understanding…

Change

Make A Difference

Henry Household
August 11, 2014
No Comments

Every Sunday morning I take a light jog around a park near my home. There’s a lake located in one corner of the park. Each time I jog by this lake, I see the same elderly woman sitting at the water’s edge with a small metal cage sitting beside her.

This past Sunday my curiosity got the best of me, so I stopped jogging and walked over to her. As I got closer, I realized that the metal cage was in fact a small trap. There were three turtles, unharmed, slowly walking around the base of the trap. She had a fourth turtle in her lap that she was carefully scrubbing with a spongy brush.

“Hello,” I said. “I see you here every Sunday morning. If you don’t mind my nosiness, I’d love to know what you’re doing with these turtles.”

She smiled. “I’m cleaning off their shells,” she replied. “Anything on a turtle’s shell, like algae or scum, reduces the turtle’s ability to absorb heat and impedes its ability to swim. It can also corrode and weaken the shell over time.”

“Wow! That’s really nice of you!” I exclaimed.

She went on: “I spend a couple of hours each Sunday morning, relaxing by this lake and helping these little guys out. It’s my own strange way of making a difference.”

“But don’t most freshwater turtles live their whole lives with algae and scum hanging from their shells?” I asked.

“Yep, sadly, they do,” she replied.

I scratched my head. “Well then, don’t you think your time could be better spent? I mean, I think your efforts are kind and all, but there are fresh water turtles living in lakes all around the world. And 99% of these turtles don’t have kind people like you to help them clean off their shells. So, no offense… but how exactly are your localized efforts here truly making a difference?”

The woman giggled aloud. She then looked down at the turtle in her lap, scrubbed off the last piece of algae from its shell, and said, “Sweetie, if this little guy could talk, he’d tell you I just made all the difference in the world.”

It has come to the staff’s attention that this story is copied from another source. We do not typically encourage the use copywritten material. We want unique content from ordanary people 🙂

We have found the author to be Marc Chernoff http://www.marcandangel.com/2009/02/25/how-to-make-all-the-difference-in-the-world/

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