Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Did You Miss Me?

Yeah, I didn't blog for a few days. I went to MA to see Catherine Billman, then to NJ to see the Murphy's. I will be posting about the various drivers I encountered along the way (in NY, MA, CONN, NY again and NJ)later,but for now let's just say the driving (about 750 miles with that bad back) was nothing compared to the tree that fell on and levelled my mother and father's garage Sunday night/Monday morning. The neighbor's giant (I mean over 71 years old because the neighbor has lived there 71 years) walnut tree uprooted itself (no wind, no rain) and took out our garage and "summer house" (half of the garage had been converted by my father to what we called the summer house, a place where we ate our Sunday meals with extended family in the, duh, summertime). Gone, all gone. I'll post the pics from Licia's cellphone later. It is sad to make a list of things for the insurance company when you're making a list of things that were such a part of your family history. But, nobody was hurt, and actually if the tree had fallen ten feet in another direction, somebody would've been killed. We make our trees big in Jersey.

So here's a prompt for you. Family traditions. What did your family do/have as tradition that made those family times special? Here are a few of mine:

1) eating in the now-flattened summer house and then listening to everyone talk while I swam in the pool, which was just a few feet away. I'm not proud that I splashed my family from the pool sometimes, but maybe it was refreshing.

2) sitting on my father's lap way late at night in the hottest part of summer when it was too hot to sleep and we had to have the porch light off (June bugs, big ones) and listening to his stories and the "Anne Boleyn" song. My siblings were there, but I choose to ignore that and make it a father-daughter tradition.

3) switching from summer to Christmas -- opening presents on Christmas Eve because my fater was a UPS man in the city, and he didn't get home until midnight, that biggest package night of the year (dude, I said biggest package).

4) name any Sunday and my extended family was at our house. My mother was the only cook of the three Lamb sisters, my grandmother died before I was born, so there we were, all crowded into a house with no dining room, eating in the living room. But that's not the whole tradition. We'd eat early, then everyone would stay and we'd eat deli (cold cuts, if you're from Jersey) and watch TV.

5) sitting around at the dining room table (when we finally had a dining room) with the ladies in my family while the male relatives watched sports or whatever. This was when I was older, and my friends from school always wanted to come over because my women were so cool.

Okay, that's it. I can't type on D's split keyboard anymore. If there are aton of typos, blame them on ergonomics. Gotta go: first day back at work, unless you count the two hours I was there yesterday. Whatchu got for family traditions? BTW, you're forgiven for not wondering what happened to me over the weekend. You're busy, I'm busy. But it's time to step up to the plate and blog . . . draft

2 comments:

Teresa said...

oooo this is a fun one. I have lots of family traditions, and I miss them.

Our first year out here with my kids I was a wreck at christmas. I mean - a WRECK. Could *not* stop crying. I'm better now - but it was tough at first.

Here I go:

1. When I was growing up, we would have dinner at my Grandma and Grandpa's house (dad's side) in Vallejo every Saturday and Sunday (which changed to just Sundays when I was a teen). I had 4 uncles and an aunt, and I was the only kid in the whole family. We sat around a huge table and I used to sit and wait for my moment to break into the conversation. My heart aches for those dinners now.

2. My mom used to have every-other-Monday off, so when I came home from school on her Mondays off I used to come home to homemade cinnamon rolls and the smell of pine sol from the floors being washed.

3. My Uncle Byron used to bet me $$ that I couldn't finish my dinner at my Grandparent's house when we were there for weekend dinners. Once, I finished an entire plate of spaghetti, and he proceeded to stuff my $1 into my soda can. My grandma had to cut it out with scissors. (he was always the one that joked with me the most - sadly, he passed away last year. My heart will always ache for him.)

4. I spent many-a-summer here in Central New York with my grandparents (mom's side) and my cousins in Utica and West Winfield. I would stay with my grandparents in Utica, but also stay with my Aunt and Uncle in West Winfield for days on end. They had a pool, and two of my cousins (girls) were older, so I got to meet lots of cute older boys. I even went on a date with a SENIOR when I was just barely a FRESHMAN! (gasp)

5. Christmas and New Years eve we would spend at my Uncles' (two of them were bachelors and owned the house together) house in Vallejo. They had a little more room, and also had an awesome game room in the basement with a shuffle board, pool table, and video games. It was a kid's dream! They had a black metal spiral staircase going to the basement, and I *loved* to go down there and learn how to play pool from one of my uncles.

Christmas eve we always had egg nog and cold cuts, and Christmas morning we would open mounds of presents and have a ham and egg breakfast.

At midnight on New Years eve they would make oyster stew and have champaign (sparkling apple cider for me).

Jessica said...

First off, I missed you terribly, and I was actually just talking to Nick last night about how you were MIA and I was scared that I might never see a blog again... after-all your blogs are the spice of my very dull life.

So on to traditions... my family has very messed up traditions so you may enjoy them

1- We invite one messed up family member for every Thanksgiving that we choose to share with our otherwise normal family. In 1990 it was my uncle who turned the oven to "clean" and locked in the turkey, which would have eventually burnt down the house, but thanks to my grandmother's diligence, only charred it to a light charcoal color. In 2006 it was my "normal" uncle and his ex-convict daughter, who drank all my mother's wine, obnoxiously asked "where's the pie!?!" when dinner was served, showed us her mug shots (they were nice 8x10s, and taught us "jail-games" a nice one called garbage which was amazingly fun.

2- Christmas Eve has always been spent at church and then at our neighbor's house for gift exchange. It is the one time all year that I actually want to see them.

3- December 26th every year unless CNY winter comes to rear it's ugly head, we spend 3 1/2 hours in the car and go to Buffalo. It is the one time during the year that we all always get together in order to see each other. Somehow though my uncle (turkey burner) either tramples a kid, makes someone bleed, or convinces someone to stick their tongue to freezing metal outside.

4- We used to be forced into attending "pizza friday" at my parents house. Meaning that in high-school I never was allowed to leave the house on a Friday night unless I had a sporting event that I was involved in. We basically sat in our living room and watched on really boring VHS that my mother chose when she was at the library, that somehow signified her youth, and talked about how horrible our week was at school. It was sort of torture then, but now it has turned into something that I would really like to do. We started it up again recently, and my mother started to make pizzas, and I really wish we could go there and tell her how horrible our week has been.

5- my most favorite- christmas morning every year of my life has started with either my littlest brother (for the past 11 years) or my younger brother (the 9 years before that) would run into my bedroom and wake me and my sister up. From here he would then run into my parents room and wake them up. (mind you this happens at 6am) Mom and dad would tell them to go back to bed for an hour, and after about 5 minutes they would go bug her again. By the time my mother finally gave in, we were ready in our sunday best, and almost running down the stairs. We had to wait at the top of the stairs for her and my father to go downstairs, turn on Christmas tunes, and start the hot cocoa. We would then be "allowed" downstairs, but couldn't go in the living room until we took a family picture. Then we one by one would open gifts and pretend we cared what other people got as we waited in anticipation for what we would get next.

My favorite part was the torture we had to endure on Christmas morning before gift time. Who honestly makes their kids wait until after a picture? I think it's a tradition I will make my children endure if I ever have kids!