by compound complex 47 Replies latest jw friends
Thanks, Hortensia, for sharing your gustatory delights!
Yeah, I was in a months'-long slump per writing activity, and I was thinking about my b'fast the other day and the hell it was back in the 50s. What I described was accurate. It was actually Dad, however, who got the egg. He had a "condition."
Gratefully,
CoCo
Can't say why he calms me down, reading him, that is. Escape. Sweet escape.
Maybe since I'm sort of familiar with his town, Salinas. I see the places he talks about. Been there. I honestly feel my life with bro is somewhere east of Eden. In my story, though, it was Mom I could never please. She sure as hell wouldn't be happy about the oatmeal on the wallpaper -- hard as a rock -- that I refuse to scrape off. Done it already too many times when it was still sliming down the walls after one of baby's tantrums. Never know when his brain'll get hijacked and send him flying in all directions. He's stronger than me, hate to admit it, and I have to use my wiles to stop him. Works sometimes. Sometimes not.
Wonder if George would approve of what I feel like doing . . .
The curtains have been closed for days.
Should I knock on the door to see if the boys are all right? Well, I know someone's alive in there. One could be murdered for all the screaming I heard last night. A wonder the neighbors don't complain. Of course, old man Hendricks is deaf and the Lanes are away on a trip. I really want to call the police sometimes because I'm afraid the little one is getting hurt. For the life of me I don't understand how a little crippled man could be treated that way. So tiny and helpless.
I just baked some bread. Maybe they'll like that. I better cut it for them. That would be the prudent thing to do.
Safer . . . don't want the smart one's mind wandering to do worse than he's surely already done.
Ooooooooooh CoCo!!! I didn't see this. It's yummy!!!
JS/ EoE/ OM&M
~~~
Allan could never please mom
Bobby throws oatmeal?
Whose wiles? Allan is older but small. Bobby is the baby, but stronger
So who really is the crippled, helpless one? And is it a physical or mental nature?
Why was there screaming?!
The neighbor is afraid for the little one-Allan the older is little. So is small in stature Allan the helpless-??!!!!!
But who really is the smart one?
And what kind of bread was baked? (Just teasing-CoCo!!)
~~~
I'm just thinking out loud. I'll wait until you add more to your story!
Coco
I noticed you mentioned Salinas which made me remember a very strange witness family that came from the prunedale congregation they were by far a weird bunch he was an elder and his whole family were pioneers. it was fun to ride around with them because you could spend the day cruising around counting time and never talking to anyone. i often wonder what happened to them the whole family loved wearing their pioneer beanies it was pioneer never never land.
You've both given me loads to chew on, rip and Nancy -- THANK YOU!
I feel like an open book sometimes.
CoCo ponders what lies in the road . . . a head?
CoCo ponders what lies in the road . . . a head?
<<<>>>
Why can't I just give in? Cheerfully . . . at least be accepting of it is what it is.
Everyone says that, like we have no control over what happens in our little, humdrum lives. I want to be a better person, but it never gets past being a tiny thought in my skull. He can't help it -- I know that -- why can't I let him be and just clean up the mess -- all the messes -- and shut up. I want to be a saint, like Mom was, but I guess I'm not wired that way. I hate being out of control. Out of control. All the time.
Am I like my father? Never will know since she refused to talk about him. Bitter that he left her without a word? To raise 3 brats by herself. I don't know about this nature nurture folderol. I wish I could figure myself out then I'd take things easy, step by step, and not explode at the poor little guy. I don't want to hurt him.
Not even the fly creeping on my hand . . . buzzing in my ears . . . back to my hand. . . .
The buzzing never, ever stops.
CoCo, several years ago, I wondered when and where that saying, 'it is what it is' was born. The first time I became conscious of "it" was when a C.O. (that was harsh and indifferent) constantly used that phrase. He was originally from the south, so I thought, perhaps it was a southern saying. Years after that, I became acquainted with someone originally from N.C. who also used that phrase. For the last 6 or 7 years, I have heard that phrase at least 1x a day! Sometimes it has had my own voice attached to it.
Do we have control over our lives, really? Every choice we make might not be a good or well thought-out choice, but do we control the outcome of how other people's choices affect us when paths cross? The JW's taught me to believe it was not fate, but "time and unforseen occurrence..." Well, isn't that exactly what "fate" is?And of course, nature/nurture is a subject that is very interesting. How can siblings brought up in the same household have such different personalities?
I'm enjoying your story very much, CoCo.
Hello, rip:
Yes, hear it all the time nowadays. Where it started I, likewise, couldn't say.
Google it?
I appreciate your comments very much.
Back with more.
CC
