I was talking to Kevin yesterday and we were talking about prices ; he specifically mentioned the prices of the supplies for taking care of the diabetic wound on his leg. My contribution was this: that below Kroger's store brand, is Value Brand - which I have come to realize isn't often so much of a value! - i.e. their pasta is so starchy, its pretty much not fit for consumption ;- However, its the end of the month, I was out of toilet paper, the Value Brand was only 88 cents for four rolls, I sighed and grabbed it ... and have actually been impressed! - even tho it ain't so soft, it doesn't shred and leave toilet paper balls everywhere! (TMI - sorry, lol!).
Then Kevin said, "You're using Value Brand toilet paper?!! " in a tone as incredulous as if I said I was going to ride on a roller coaster. "Jean ... I can't imagine you using Value Brand!!!"
I smiled and sighed.
For most of my life, I've managed to keep my feet firmly placed in the middle-class lifestyle that I was raised in. And people in that place, don't put Value Brand toilet paper in there bathrooms - they go for a name brand that has a coupon, instead!
However ... times have changed, times have changed indeed! and I'm in a place I never saw myself being in, when I was middle-aged : poor, struggling, stuck, without a family to help me out - meaning an adult child (I have one, she's going to be 29, but help?!), a husband or partner (meaning one who lives with me AND contributes to the household income AND is part of), like so - yes, I'll even put my parents in there, altho I certainly realized that having older parents meant I wouldn't get to hold on to them on this mortal coil as long as some other people!
So here I am: the lady with the Value Brand t.p. sitting in her toilet. Care to have a seat ;)
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
The one that took me by surprise ...
So I came across a card that Dad have given me in 2005 ... it was a religious card, a Mother's Day Novena of Masses, to be exact ...What made me cry was what he wrote inside:
Happy Easter
Happy Mothers Day
Happy Just Knowing Me
Be Happy to Know I Love
Happy Easter
Happy Mothers Day
Happy Just Knowing Me
Be Happy to Know I Love
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Husband and Wife Save Thousands of Greyhounds
Husband and Wife Save Thousands of Greyhounds
I've known a few rescued Greys : they are incredibly gentle, they hug by leaning into and onto you, and they are such loves!
I've known a few rescued Greys : they are incredibly gentle, they hug by leaning into and onto you, and they are such loves!
Silky pajamas!
The next photo is of me standing happily in front of an Easter basket. Ah! I am wearing my most favorite, silky pajamas!!! :)
I loved them because of the texture, and the shine, and they felt very adult, too, in the sense of what an adult would wear as a ball gown (because back then, so young, I thought that my adult life would involve ball gowns - ha, ha! was I ever sadly mistaken!). AND - the part my father hated about them, the poor guy! - when we would wrestle, I would slink out of my clothes and run away ;) "Jean, change your pajamas, and THEN I'll wrestle with you on the floor!" Dr James Dobson of Focus on the Family is the one specific child psychologist I can remember who has specifically talked about the wonder of getting on the floor with your kids and wrestling with them <3
I loved them because of the texture, and the shine, and they felt very adult, too, in the sense of what an adult would wear as a ball gown (because back then, so young, I thought that my adult life would involve ball gowns - ha, ha! was I ever sadly mistaken!). AND - the part my father hated about them, the poor guy! - when we would wrestle, I would slink out of my clothes and run away ;) "Jean, change your pajamas, and THEN I'll wrestle with you on the floor!" Dr James Dobson of Focus on the Family is the one specific child psychologist I can remember who has specifically talked about the wonder of getting on the floor with your kids and wrestling with them <3
Happy Birthday!
Ah! A birthday party picture! :>
The way it was done then was, your mother baked a cake, got some games, and told the other mothers in the neighborhood day, date, and time, and it was in your own home.
Very basic - no need to rent a hall or a restaurant, like today!
The way it was done then was, your mother baked a cake, got some games, and told the other mothers in the neighborhood day, date, and time, and it was in your own home.
Very basic - no need to rent a hall or a restaurant, like today!
Girl in picture: birthday party
It was at one of my birthday parties, and I either snapped the picture or asked my mother to - I'm pretty sure it was the latter, because I remember my mother being surprised: this was in the day and age when you invited all the neighborhood kids in, and this particular girl wasn't one of my close, close friends ...
I was trying to speak about something I didn't have the vocabulary for, I realize now ...
This girl was my age (which looks to be about four or five) with a brother who was a great deal older - like high school age older. And whenever she would bring her little friends around her house to play, he would hang around and make rude comments and just - stare. A guy in high school is doing this to little girls who are four and five years old. Today that would set off all types of alarm bells, but we are talking the late 60s, very early 70s. He pretty much ignored his sister - fixated on her friends. I don't know if he did this to all her friends, or to be honest even to her, but he did molest me. I was a vulnerable, wounded child, just bounding out of that experience in nursery school, so for all intents and purposes I had this 'recent victim' look on my face as he started his schtick about his shorts and his fancy-schmancy bicycle - and maybe he saw my face and decided to go further, or maybe he just did so with everyone - that I don't know. It surely would be interesting to re-connect with little girls in that neighborhood from that time period and ask ...
I was trying to speak about something I didn't have the vocabulary for, I realize now ...
This girl was my age (which looks to be about four or five) with a brother who was a great deal older - like high school age older. And whenever she would bring her little friends around her house to play, he would hang around and make rude comments and just - stare. A guy in high school is doing this to little girls who are four and five years old. Today that would set off all types of alarm bells, but we are talking the late 60s, very early 70s. He pretty much ignored his sister - fixated on her friends. I don't know if he did this to all her friends, or to be honest even to her, but he did molest me. I was a vulnerable, wounded child, just bounding out of that experience in nursery school, so for all intents and purposes I had this 'recent victim' look on my face as he started his schtick about his shorts and his fancy-schmancy bicycle - and maybe he saw my face and decided to go further, or maybe he just did so with everyone - that I don't know. It surely would be interesting to re-connect with little girls in that neighborhood from that time period and ask ...
Girl Scout Camp
Gaaad, I hated this day camp. H A T E D. In the picture I am turning around from a picnic table and I look annoyed at the photographer (no doubt my mother!) but in reality it was a pleading, get me the hell outta here!, look!!!
Why do I say that about the camp??? Let me count the ways .... It was hot, there were bugs, and the ground was dirt! Sand on the beach was one thing - I loved that! - but dirt?! There were things that I was asked to do that weren't in the realm of where I could do well - this wasn't about reading, about books, but about things like team spirit and crafts that I just couldn't get the hang of (remind me to share the story of how I made a craft octopus...). There were other kids, and I almost always had a problem with that type of situation, because I was 'born adult', I had 'a Russian soul'. I thought the soap in the pantyhose in the outdoor handwashing station was just beyond gross. Dry ice scared the bejesus out of me because I was afraid I would get burned by it, like we had been warned. And I was always scared inside that when the bus brought me back, my mother would have run away and wouldn't be there - she wasn't that type of woman, she never suggested it, she never did that!, but that was my fear: that my mother would run away and I would be stuck at this dammed camp to live in!!!
Why do I say that about the camp??? Let me count the ways .... It was hot, there were bugs, and the ground was dirt! Sand on the beach was one thing - I loved that! - but dirt?! There were things that I was asked to do that weren't in the realm of where I could do well - this wasn't about reading, about books, but about things like team spirit and crafts that I just couldn't get the hang of (remind me to share the story of how I made a craft octopus...). There were other kids, and I almost always had a problem with that type of situation, because I was 'born adult', I had 'a Russian soul'. I thought the soap in the pantyhose in the outdoor handwashing station was just beyond gross. Dry ice scared the bejesus out of me because I was afraid I would get burned by it, like we had been warned. And I was always scared inside that when the bus brought me back, my mother would have run away and wouldn't be there - she wasn't that type of woman, she never suggested it, she never did that!, but that was my fear: that my mother would run away and I would be stuck at this dammed camp to live in!!!
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