The Pirate's Chest

                                                         

 

The other day while I was doing major housecleaning, my husband asked me why I was still keeping my youngest grandchild's treasure chest in the guest room. It took me a few moments to reply. Why was I keeping the old wooden chest when my youngest of nine grandchildren was almost in high school?

“It’s not time, yet,” I replied.

“What about the basement and the shed? Don’t you want to give those toys away?” Dan asked.

“It’s not time,” I repeated. Dan shrugged, then walked into the other room. After thirty-five years of marriage, the poor man knows when not to push the envelope.

                                                            
Why was I keeping the Native American walking stick that my husband had made for each of the grandsons? Why was I keeping their toy swords and bow and arrows in the shed out in the yard? And why in heaven’s name did I keep one of Nathan’s disposable (clean) diapers in my car many, many years after he’d been potty trained?

                                                       
Was I a hoarder; a toy lady (something like a cat lady)? Okay, the diaper is weird, but something keeps me from tossing the twelve year old pamper in the trash. Maybe I am a hoarder.

I decided to open the treasure chest that belonged to Nathan. The blankets that drape over the chest are authentic Native American blankets that were given to me by my mother and, the hat was from the Lewis and Clark Traveling Exhibit. I was the manager of the Changing Hall when this historical gem visited the Academy of Natural Sciences. It was a gift from my staff.

                                                              
Inside the chest are all kinds of stones, shells, two smaller chests, and a few books. I remember helping Nathan find the items for his chest. Whenever the boys, Nathan and his two older brothers, slept over my house, Nathan would immediately head for his treasure chest. Whenever we went on a hiking trip, Nathan took a little bit of nature home with him and placed it inside the chest. I put my foot down when he wanted to put worms inside the treasure chest.

I guess I could move the walking stick and treasure chest to the basement with the other toys, but a memory popped into my head. A few weeks ago, Nathan slept over my house. While he was there, the little girl from across the street came to visit. She is six years old, about the age Nathan was when we found the old wooden chest at a yard sale. I’ve been babysitting her since she was three months old. She has a crush on Nathan.

Nathan pulled out the old pirate’s chest and he and Isabella spent the whole afternoon going through all the stuff that Nathan had collected. The two of them spread the contents on my kitchen floor as I prepared dinner.

“Grandmom, do you remember this?” Nathan asked on and off, holding a shell or a stone up for me to see.

                                                         
As for the toys in the basement and in the shed, this past Christmas Eve when all the grandchildren were over for our big party, all of them from the oldest (27) to the youngest (13) were playing with the toys and laughing their heads off. The boys, one a U.S Marine, were outside shooting the toy bow and arrows and chasing each other with the swords. All of them, now young ladies and young men, laughing like they did when they were so very young.
                                                                

 

As I was placing Nathan’s treasures into the Pirate chest, my husband walked back into the room and said, “I guess you can keep this stuff for our great grandkids.”

“Yes, I think I will,” I replied, but after he left the room, I finally knew who I was keeping all the toys for. They were for me. The toys were my three dimensional photo album of my grandbabies; my time machine to the past.

I closed the chest and called Nathan on his cell phone. When he answered, I said, “The weather will be getting cooler, soon. Want to go hiking and look for treasure.” We have a date!

Steampunk Granny Reminisces About the Ole Days

                                                                             

I’ve been reminded many times by my grandsons who are better known as the Desperadoes in most of my family blog stories that I’m old. In fact, the youngest once told me that I was probably as old as the dinosaurs. Little smart ass, but maybe they came to that conclusion when I was telling them how different my childhood was from theirs. They could not get over the fact that we did not have cell phones or computers.

“How did you keep in touch with your friends?” Nathan asked.  

“We called them on the phone, or walked over to their house, but if they lived too far away; we wrote letters,” I replied.

“No cell phones?”

 

                                                                    

“You know that heavy old black phone in Grandpop Fred’s house?” I asked and waited for his nod. “Well, it was connected to the wall and that’s where you made your calls.”

                                                                 

My friend Rita sent some photos to me that demonstrates perfectly the immense progress we’ve made since I was a kid, but these pictures also feature a few objects that will be sadly missed.

Nathan, this is for you.

This is what my Grandmother would wash her clothes in and then hang the clothing outside on clotheslines that stretched from one side of the yard to the other. We would play hide and seek between the sheets and if it began to rain, the whole family ran outside to help get the clothing inside before they got wet.

                                                                             

My generation didn't have video games or expensive toys. We played outside for hours and the games we had were passed down to our little brothers and sisters. We were not allowed to break our toys.

                                                                     

 

 

 

We didn't have MP3 Players or I-Pods or Smart phones to listen to music. When the transistor radio came out, my friends and I thought we were super cool to be able to bring our music with us. We only got radio stations. There was no downloading of music. You listened to what you got.

 

                                                           

                                                                  

When we were sick, our parents had their own version of a first aid kit, but if that didn't work then the doctor would make a house call. Yep, our family doctor not only came to the house to take care of us, but he would often stay for dinner

 

                                                                    

 

We girls didn't have the money to get pedicures or manicures or even go to a hairdresser, but we did one hell of a job teasing or hair and then spraying with enough hairspray to repel atomic weapons

 

                                                           

 

Uncle Mike, Aunt Jane and Me.

 

Oh, one more thing. As far as discipline, our parents believed in spanking and so did the Nuns at our Catholic School. When we went home and told our parents that the Nuns had smacked us with a ruler, they would give us another smack for upsetting the teacher.

 

                                                                

 

We didn't have it as easy as the kids today, but we sure as hell knew how to have a good time.

 

                                                             

 

Yes, Nathan, your granny is old, but not as old as the dinosaurs and I will always love you...from here to the moon and back. I hope I live long enough to hear you explain to your grandchildren that things were better when you were a kid.





Steampunk Granny meets Snapchat

                                                                         

 

I have nine grandchildren, who have accepted me one way or another into their inner circle. That is a big deal to me. I feel blessed that my grandchildren trust me enough to make me their confidant when they need to talk or ask for my advice; a big deal!

                                                                                 

My oldest grandson is a marine and now that he is living at Camp Lejeune, I don’t get to talk to him that often and so I value any and all communication from him...that being said let me tell you about the crazy stuff I do receive from #1 grandson.

Just recently, I received a smart phone and I can now do snapchats with it. My twelve year old grandson had to teach me how to use snapchat and after taking pictures of my thumb several times, I think I have it down pat...maybe.

                                                                                

 

Anyway, I would send snapchat pictures to Jimmy just to remind him that granny was still kicking and he would reply with a picture of him. He also added me to his twitter friends and his special circle of Facebook friends, which is such an honor...except when I receive certain messages, like:

You can imagine my surprise when one night a few months ago, I heard my smart phone give a little chirp and when I checked I saw that I had received a snapchat message from Jimmy. It was 1:30 a.m. and I was up because I was writing a recap of “The Walking Dead”, but what was Jimmy sending me at this ungodly hour? I opened the snapchat message to see a photo of some lap dancer apparently performing for my grandson....strange...why would Jimmy send this to me?

                                                                              

   

I messaged him and asked, “Was I supposed to receive this?”

No reply. But, the next day on facebook he did mention to his inner circle that he accidently sent me a certain photo and of course all his friends teased him. I commented, “If this is the only way I can keep contact with the kid, I’ll take what I can get.” 

I’m not kidding about keeping in touch with #1 grandson. This kid hates to write or talk on the phone so since I have an open mind, I overlook a lot of the stuff that seems to filter down to me through Jimmy and his fellow marines. But...and this is a big but, sometimes the stuff that gets to me is a bit weird. I know what you asking yourself. How weird could it be, especially since she kept her cool about the lap dancer?

                                                                             

I’m not sure if this video is a takeoff on the Alien franchise, but there was a man in a pool, an innocent female bystander and a body part that resembled the “Alien” and it was hungry. That's all I'm saying without a lawyer! 

                                                                      

I messaged him, “Was Granny supposed to see this?” His friends were probably afraid that I would come through the phone and kill him, in fact, most of their replies hinted at this possible situation. But, I didn’t say another word about the video.

Jimmy had an emergency leave and was able to come home for his paternal grandmother’s funeral. As soon as he saw me he gave me a big hug and asked, “Granny, are you mad at me? I’ll take you off the inner circle so you don’t get that stuff anymore.”

“Like hell you will. Keep me in the inner circle. It’s my only way of keeping up with you and making sure you’re doing okay.”

                                                                         

Was I wrong? Should I have admonished him? NO!!!! I’m a big girl and I’ve been there and done that and I’m not going to let a silly video fuss up my feathers, especiallly when there are worse things going on in the world and my grandson along with his young friends might be sent to war because the adults in the world can’t sit down and talk without flinging bombs left and right.

                                   Granny with six of the nine desperadoes                                                         

Like I said at the beginning, I have nine grandchildren and I want to be that place that they can come to with all their good, bad and ugly secrets...this is what grandmothers do.

Keep on messaging me Jimmy, granny loves you.

A Day In The Life of Steampunk Granny

                                                                                

Get up…jumped out of bed…ran a comb… This past Tuesday, one of the nine grandchildren that I haven’t seen in quite a while flew in from Wyoming to spend some time with her grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins.

                                                                   

                                                                       

Kathryn is a quiet and thoughtful person and I’m guessing life back home is rather calm and organized. She was in for a big surprise with her East Coast family. There isn’t a calm or quiet bone in our bodies. My youngest grandson was also spending the week with us and this worked out pretty well because Kathryn had someone that liked doing the same things she did.

                                                           At the hippo tank                                                       

I speak South Philly, so it took Kathryn a day or two to understand my slang pronunciations, but with Nathan acting like a translator, we did perfectly well. Wednesday Dan, Kathryn, Nathan and I headed to the Aquarium in Camden, N.J.  Kathryn had been to an aquarium before, but nothing as big as the one in New Jersey. Wait until she sees the one in Baltimore.

                                                                               

We loved the hippos and spent more time at that exhibit before moving on to the sharks. I love this picture.
 

                                                                      

                                                                                   

Kathryn, like me loves turtles and she was able to get one to swim up for this photo

                                                                          

                     

That night we went to the mall with my granddaughter, Katrina. All three kids, clicked right away. They liked the same fashions, stores and spent most of their time in Spencer’s and Hot Topic.

                                                                    

            

The next day, I took all three to the Franklin Institute to see the Circus and Brain exhibit. Katrina and Nathan did well both on the tightrope and doing flips on the acrobatic section. Kathryn and I stayed safely on the ground.

                                                                      

                                                                                

Friday we headed to Atlantic City. Kathryn having been born in Montana had never seen the ocean. She loved it. It’s funny what we take for granted because it’s so close by ,and yet, it is a life experience for others.

                                                                     

                                                                            

Saturday was a book signing day for me to promote Roof Oasis and to continue to promote the South Jersey Writers’ Group anthology with Dawn Byrne.

                                                                

                  

 

Kathryn is a writer, too and was very interested in seeing the other side of writing and why marketing is just as important as writing the book. Nathan and Kathryn were a big help for Super D and I. Dragging two suitcases of books around can get hard sometimes, but Nate and Kathryn helped with the load.

                                                    

                                                                               

           

Jimmy's Farewell Party

                                                                                   

I was there in the delivery room with my daughter when Jimmy was born. I knew from that first moment that my first grandson was going to be a warrior. How? Well for starters, he punched the doctor who delivered him in the nose within seconds after being born. No! I’m not exaggerating. My grandson reached up and popped the doctor in the nose. We all laughed about this even the doctor.

                                                                  

 

Growing up, Jimmy was always fascinated by Ninjas, swords, knights and soldiers. He and his brothers fought many battles in my back yard as they pretended to be pirates or Samurai warriors. I was often encouraged to join in the battle, but most of the time was assigned the job of corpse or prisoner. After Jimmy graduated from High School, he joined the United States Marines. Oorah! But, what my daughter, her husband and his grandparents didn’t know was that Jimmy had been planning this for some time.

                                                                   

 

My daughter and her husband had a big send-off party this past Saturday for Jimmy who will be heading to Camp Lejeune for infantry training.

                                                                                       

Friends and family all gathered around to celebrate and it was the best time ever. Plenty of good food and conversations made the whole day perfect. 

                                                                                

I even got to visit with my daughter’s childhood friend, Rita Palange-Screnci, who was there with her husband and son. Rere and Rita were always together, through thick and thin, and I’ve come to think of Rita as my second daughter.

                                                                     

                                                                   11 year old Rere and Rita

Jimmy’s younger brothers, Joshua and Nathan are sure going to miss their big brother. Who will they fight with? Oh yeah, each other!

                                                                  

 

The perfect party included a surprise visit from the bike club, Warriors Watch Riders of NJ, who stopped by to say goodbye. Joshua and his friend Tyler get the credit for arranging this. Tyler’s dad is a member of the Warriors Watch Riders. Thank you, Mr. Tucci. Jimmy's childhood friend, Sean is also leaving for military tour, overseas. Stay safe, soldier. 

                                                                       

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         

I was thinking as I watched Jimmy joke with his friends and family at the party, that it has been a blessing watching him grow from that infant, who came out fighting, to the man he is now.

                                                                                            

 When he leaves on Tuesday, he’ll take his family’s love and support with him, but….also a nice chunk of his parent’s and grandparent’s souls. That’s how we live forever…giving chunks of ourselves (our souls) away to our children, grandchildren, and future generations. Oorah!

                                                                      

Death by Legos

                                                                              

With nine grandchildren, I’ve been dragged into some pretty wild adventures. Some are fun and I mark off these outings as a day well spent. Some adventures I try to forget ever happened as soon as possible. Today was one of those days. I was feeling a bit under the weather and wanted to spend time with Nathan, my youngest grandchild.

As soon as I entered the house and before I had taken off my coat, my grandson runs up to me and announces that we are going to a movie. My daughter and Nathan hustle me out of the house and into her car before I can ask, “What are we seeing?”

                                                                       

 

In the car and after we are half way to the theatre, my daughter finally confesses, “Nathan wants to see the Lego Movie.”

“Are you nuts?” I counter, trying to open the car door a jump out while the car is doing a good 40 miles an hour. “I thought you loved me,” I say to Nathan as he and his mother pull me back into the moving car.

“Mom, it might be good,” ReRe lies with a straight face.

“Come on Granny. I want to see this with you.”

I must have done something to piss off the kid. Why else would he drag me to see a Lego Movie? My daughter treated me to the movie and snacks. I’m calling it a bribe.

                                                                        

 

We took our seats and the movie came on. The Lego Movie stars Chris Pratt as the voice of Emmett, Will Ferrell is the voice of President Business and he also makes a cameo appearance, Morgan Freeman is the voice of Vitruvius. There are lots of big star names and superhero characters in this movie, but I don’t care; it stinks.

Ten minutes into the movie, Nathan turns to me and says, “This is stupid. Let’s go.”

You think?

                                                            

 

“You picked it and you’re stuck with it,” Re and I both reply just as the song started.

I have this picture in my mind of Hell. Everyone who is banished there will have to listen to this song for all eternity. Thankfully, the movie ended before I went comatose, but now the dumb song is stuck in my head.

                                                                          

 

As we were leaving, I said to Nathan, “Next time, let me pick the movie. I wanted to see Robo Cop.”

There are probably plenty of little children who will like this movie, God bless them, but to me, the Lego Movie was nothing more than an advertisement for toys with bad music. Here is the song, but I warn you, it sticks in your head.