memoir

Ah Ha Ha Ha

Monday Funnies…

It Couldn’t Be Helped Part 5

Which looks better?
Mother was locked on the grounds of Windsor Castle, but in all honesty, it was’t her fault.  She was part of a tour group that got locked in.  They were just enjoying themselves and, as on the other museum visit, the group found themselves alone, the exits locked.  She hastily pointed out, this time it wasn’t her fault.  It was the group leader’s responsibility to keep up with the time.

Concerned about arrest for trespassing, they searched fruitlessly for a helpful guard.  None were found.  Eventually, they went up and beat on the castle doors, to no avail.  Mother was quite offended, sure the queen was inside and just refusing to answer because she was a snob.  Though she saw on the news later that night the queen was supposedly in Scotland, Mother was still miffed, preferring to believe she’d been snubbed.  Eventually, the group found an unlocked gate in the gardener’s area and made their departure.  Having to go out the back way did not improve Mother’ s prejudice toward Her Majesty.

Though Mother is a royal watcher, she never misses an opportunity to take a swipe at the queen.  “The queen wears ugly hats.”  “ The queen seems overbearing.” “It’s awful the way the queen bosses her family around.”  “I’ll bet she’s an awful mother/grandmother-in-law.”  “The queen is no better than anyone else.”  “The queen has gained weight.”  I don’t know why she got such a bee in her bonnet about the queen.  I know the queen would be devastated if she knew all the nasty things Mother says about her.

Mother positively gloated upon learning of a story published in The Guardian that DNA  studies on Richard III, one of Queen Elizabeth’s forebears was illegitimate.  Possibly, the queen herself has no better claim to the throne than Mother does.  I will leave it to the the two of them to sort that out.  I don’t have a dog in that fight.

Questions raised over Queen’s

ancestry after DNA test on

Richard III ‘s cousins.

 

 

Thank You

 

Thank you

Guest Blogger: Linda Bethea — Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life

Originally posted on Art by Rob Goldstein: My first guest blog was a 2015 post by Linda Bethea of Nutstrok. Sally Cronin of Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life thought it deserved a re-post, so here it is. The original post begins below this drawing by Linda’s Mother, Kathleen Swain. The Forever Mom…

via Guest Blogger: Linda Bethea — Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life

It Couldn’t Be Helped Part 4

Mother had guests visiting from out of town.  They’d been out to lunch and she’d be showing them the sites all afternoon.  Her guests were geriatric; not quite the spry youthful specimen she was.  A gracious hostess, she made sure all their stops weren’t too rigorous or demanding, since some of them faced physical challenges.  She decided a visit to the State Exhibit Museum was in order late in the afternoon, the visit made more enticing since there was no admission.  They strolled the gardens for an hour or more.  The roses, clematis, and lilies were a vision  with their gentle scent perfuming the summer air.  It could have gone on forever but they still wanted to tour the museum before it closed for the day!  Upon climbing the steps and rattling the door, they found it locked up tight.  Mother was offended.   “But the sign says 8:00 to 4:00 seven days a week, except for holidays! It’s not a holiday!  I’m going to call and talk to SOMEBODY tomorrow!”

It occurred to one of the party to check their watch.  “It’s 4:45!  No wonder they’re closed!  We’d better get out of here before we get locked in!”

Rushing to the gate as fast as four septugenarians could, they found themselves locked inside the museum grounds for the night.

This was before cell phones.  The four of them stood at the locked gate waving and gesturing until they finally caught the attention of a passerby who alerted the fire department of their dilemma, once he got control of his laughter.  Eventually, the firemen put a ladder over the fence, rescuing the four.  Even though Mother has always been afraid of heights, she was the first to scurry over the fence, fearful a news crew might happen by.  The firemen saved the day and had a fine time in the bargain.  The foursome all learned some useful new skills, and a fine time was had by all!

Mother had been vaguely i

Doggonit, Give Me Some Directions that Make Sense

            I’m not good with directions.  In fact, I’d have to improve considerably to even be bad.  Useless terms like left, right, North, South, East, and West annoy me.  If people actually expect me to get somewhere, they need to be more specific.  “Turn off the interstate at exit 5.  Go the opposite direction you’ve been going and go three streets past Brookshire’s.   Drive just a minute or so and you’ll see a restaurant with the big cow in the parking lot.  Don’t turn there.  Drive to the next red light and turn on the street that turns between the WaWa and that hardware store with the inflatable lumberjack.  Watch for the ugly house with the silk flowers in the bucket of that tacky wishing well.  Pass it up, but now you need to start driving pretty slow.  You’ll see a big, old white house with a deep porch and all those ferns, kind of like the one Grandma lived in at Houston, the one where the woman living upstairs tossed her dirty mop water out on my head when I was sitting on the sidewalk playing. Boy, did Grandma have something to say to her!  Remember, it was just across the street from that big, old funeral home.   I just love those old houses, but I’ll bet they are expensive to heat.  About six houses down on the other side, there’s a little, blue house. I believe it used to be gray. If you look hard, you’ll see an old rusted out 1950 GMC like Aunt Ada and Uncle Junior used to drive, up on blocks way off to the side of the shed.  Remember how they used to toodle around with all those mean boys bouncing like popcorn in the back?  Anyway, our house is the yellow one with the big shade trees just across from it.  You can’t miss it. There’s a bottle tree out front.”

            Now I can’t miss with those directions.

It Couldn’t Be Helped Part 3

Mother is sensitive about her height.  For some reason, people feel free asking her how tall she is.  She dodges the issue by returning with a question,  either, “How much do you weigh?”  or “How much money do you have?”  By the way, she is not tall.  Most of her grandchildren pass her up by the time they are ten or eleven.  I was with her on a recent visit to her doctor when the nurse asked her height.

Mother feloniously claimed five foot two inches.  Realizing she was getting nowhere, the nurse took her to measure.  She was busted.

Compounding the issue of her slight build, is her squeaky voice.  She sounds just like Minnie Mouse.  The minute a caller hears her voice, they say, “Oh, hello Mrs. Swain.”  She’d never be able to make crank calls.

Mother was at loose ends one Sunday in June after church so decided to visit The American Rose Center.  As it was already hot that day, she donned her comfortable clothes:  cut off blue jean shorts, (neatly hemmed, starched, and ironed since “her mama raised her right!”) pink gingham shirt, tennis shoes and pink socks that perfectly matched her shirt.  She topped her ensemble off with a big straw sun hat.  She knew she looked cute!

She strolled around for an hour or so, admiring the lovely roses, when she noticed a gathering at a small rustic building.  Thinking there was a “program” of some sort, she decided to check it and cool off for a bit.  Based on the attendance, the program promised to be a good one.  The music was beautiful.  She had to go all the way to the front row to get a seat.  It was a hot day, but she was surprised to see so many hats.  Somehow, she failed to notice the wedding party standing before the altar.

Just about the time she got settled, the organist started playing the “Wedding March.”  It dawned on her that she had crashed a wedding as the usher escorted the groom’s mother to her seat.   Panicked to realize she occupied the seat intended for the bride’s mother, she fled back down the aisle to the giggling of the wedding guests where she was forced to make her way around the mother of the bride on the arm of the usher.  I can only imagine the confusion of the bride as Mother excused herself on the way out.

That was the most unfriendly family she’d ever met.

 

Kathleen Holdaway and Bill Swain June 29, 1946 on the day of their marriage.

 

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Four-Legged Hero is Honored – #WATWB

I love this story.

Dan Antion's avatarNo Facilities

This is Memorial Day weekend in the States, a time when we stop to pay tribute to the brave men and women who gave their lives in service to our country. Memorial Day is not a day to honor veterans, but when thinking about the men and women who have fallen, it’s hard to ignore those who serve today.

As I was searching the news yesterday, I stumbled across a story about Sgt. Stubby, a service dog from World War One, whose interesting and unlikely military career began in New Haven, Connecticut. Sgt. Stubby is going to be honored this weekend:

“Pvt. J. Robert Conroy befriended the stray pup in New Haven as the 102nd Infantry Regiment trained on the Yale University campus in the summer of 1917. Conroy smuggled Stubby aboard a troop ship to France and hid him in the coal hold.

The war had been raging for…

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