Friday, July 24, 2009

Home Is Where the Heart Is!

Hello bloggers! Long time no see. I 've been a busy bee of sorts, so I will intend to update you.


The DIVA and her little bro are home. Back from their long extended stay up in New York. They really enjoyed themselves and couldn't wait to go out and visit with their friends instead of update their momma on what they did in the 'Big Apple'.


I started classes again this summer on July 6. (gulp) I am taking a Political Science class (the teacher already hates me), and a beginner Spanish class (the teacher is lovely). It is going on week 3 and I already have one quiz due this week for my Political Science class.


The political arena is touchy. I am not a very political person, but I am strong in my convictions and my principles, and do not waver from my views unless human life is at stake. That's when I shut my mouth, and let the big dogs scrap it out!


Antyways


The hubby and I are on a little break from the therapy sessions, and will resume by the end of the month. (snort) Who ever said married life was easy should be strapped to a hard back chair in a room alone, and made to listen to Vanilla Ice with the volume at full blast.


The other children on the BIBI home front are doing okay. Some can't wait until school starts, others want to bum around all day in front of the stupid box and burn their brain cells with as much useless info that they can fill their brain cavity up with.


I on the other hand watch the most educational things that we mommy's find so amusing.


Monday thru Friday 10 AM - Live with Regis and Kelly. My grandmother calls them the Gracie and George of our time. Except they are not married. I just watch to see if they will ever get my email and call me to talk live, on the phone with them so that I can win a prize. Shameless right?

Monday thru Friday 11 AM - The View. Barbara Walters and her posse always make me laugh. I hope Elizabeth drops that bundle soon so that we can see the little bundle of joy!


Tuesday and Wednesday 9 PM - America's Got Talent. Who does not watch that show for all the bad auditions?!?

Tuesday 10 PM - Tori and Dean. Love Tori. Love Dean. Ahhh... What the rich do when they have time on their hands.




Thursday 9 PM
- She's Got The Look. Women over 35 looking sexy and doing their thing. There is hope for me yet!





Friday, Saturday, and Sunday
- If I am not carpooling to a friends house, sewing, doing homework, studying, cooking, washing clothes, or fixing a crumpled kids spirit 'cause they did not get what they wanted that week, then I tune to TCM for some old b&w movies.


Don't you just love the weekends?!?

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Happy Independence Day!


HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY EVERYONE!

ENJOY THE FIREWORKS!








A Home of Our Own


I recently watched the movie “A Home of Our Own” starring Kathy Bates and Edward Furlong. Such a touching movie and that mother was strong as an ox to keep her family together. I won’t spoil the plot by telling you what happened in case you do happen to see it. I only mentioned it because it reminded me of my childhood and the constant moving that we did.



Bear with me. I digress.



Well, before leaving the urban jungle that we called home in Brooklyn NYC I always knew that my father was a shady character. When I was thirteen, my father decided he made enough enemies in NYC after living there all of his mean life, so he decided to move my mom, me, my three sisters, and my three brothers to the state capital. Yup. That’s right. Washington D.C.



I apologize in advance if I offend anyone reading who is from the D.C. area, but that place is off the chain! I learned so much about drug paraphernalia I am surprised that I didn’t become a pharmacist. I would have made straight ‘A’s’.



I also watched a neighborhood kid get shot, numerous drug busts, and one too many fights. After three weeks in that place called home, my mom decided that it was too much trouble to go outside, so we spent the next year and a half watching all of the action from our second story windows. I vaguely remember that we didn’t watch too much television around this time either.



After we were evicted from our gray painted peeling and in desperate need of a paint job house called home, we moved in with some friends in Baltimore, Maryland. My mom had the last of the Hann tribe in D.C. which made the grand total of children that my mother had an even eight. Yup. Five girls and three boys. She was only three shy of the total that my father had. He has eleven kids total. At least, that’s what he told us. But who knows.

Yes, with eleven children under his belt my papa was a rolling stone.


Anytways.



We stayed in Maryland for a total of eight months before heading to that great big state that always shines. Yup. Californ-i-a!



I was fifteen by then and would be sixteen in a couple of weeks of arriving there and it was not pleasant circumstances. We lived in the high desert and we were not aware that it only rained but once a year in the Mojave Desert and we just missed the annual downpour. I was missing the East coast by the time I was sixteen and three days.



After almost two years in the desert we made it back to the East Coast. My father liked driving and it took us almost a week, and he was the only driver. And I didn’t feel sorry not one bit for that mean scoundrel. He was a mean wheel man with caffeinated blood that accelerated his hatred. I was so happy to reach my grandmother’s house.



My grandmother has lived in her home since 1971. A year before her first grandchild (that would be me) was born. She has the same phone number and I’ve know her Queens address since I was six. It was the place that I called ‘home’ away from our multiple ‘homes’ before I married and got my own.



Now when I look at it, we moved so much that I began to look forward to the next road trip that would bring us new adventures, a new place to lay my head, and new friends. I never had a problem making friends, just a problem keeping them.



But we finally settled in VA in 1990, after a long extended-stay at my grandmother’s. I call this place home now, with its southern atmosphere, slow-paced patron’s who take the time to smell the roses (or who drive slow enough to watch them grow), and that everyone knows your family, and you know theirs. All of my children were born at the same hospital, they have the same pediatrician for the last 16 years, we visit the same library, and my children check out the same books now that I picked out when I was a teenager starting off here.



It’s a wonder I don’t get ‘town fever’ for staying put in one place for so long. I guess home IS a place where you lay your hat. Or in my case a Yankees cap.



I am still a New Yorker deep inside.



Bear with it!