There are no end of birthdays in this family.
I’ve lost my birthday book, but I believe today, March 4th, is Jacob Polhemus’ seventeenth birthday. He doesn’t come in here, but tell him for me, Bud, to expect the usual late birthday card from Nana.
As Mom used to put it: “So much water under the bridge, so many changes in our lives”. I know it is hard to find time for one another but, Here’s a Happy Birthday to Beth. When I think of her i think of Teddy Bears and Rocking Chairs, Chocolate Sweets and Maternal Feats…. sorry for the schmaltz, just wanted you to know I was thinking of you today…
Love,
Buddy
Hello everybody. I know it’s been forever since I’ve posted anything, but I’ve got news. I’ve been writing a story called Dusktown. I’m already on the eighth chapter. I’m posting the first chapter here, so that you all can see. Not the rest, though… proceed at your own risk.
Also, it’s pretty long… Like, eight and a half pages on word… Enjoy! Please comment.
Dusktown
Part I
New Kid
“I really do hate Wednesdays.”
The snow fell harshly outside; it buried the roofs of the buildings further off and ran across the frozen parking lot in flurries. It felt almost as if the entire world had been swallowed up by the darkness. A single black street lamp bathed itself and a trashcan in a thick yellow pool of light near the front of the building. Everything beyond was dense black.
Rat sat on a bench alongside the wall of the cafeteria. His foot was up against the edge of the table; he was wearing shiny black shoes usually worn by men much older than him. They shone faintly in the cheap luminescence of the lights.
A girl silently walked over to Rat’s table and sat down. Brushing her long blonde hair behind her ear, her eyes did a quick sweep over the room. After a somewhat tense, expectant silence, the girl returned her pale violet eyes back to her dinner. Rat didn’t try to hide his disappointed sigh. Suddenly, the girl said without looking up, “Rat, please keep your feet off the table.”
Smirking on the inside, Rat wordlessly obeyed and removed his foot. He then turned his own yellow eyes to the other children before him.
Directly across from Rat and the girl were four others, all speaking in suspiciously hushed voices. Two of the girls had on make-up, one with glitter over her eyes, and the third had short curly blonde hair, sugary brown eyes, and lightly freckled cheeks. They were all speaking to a girl who was standing behind them. She would listen for a few seconds, nod, and then look around the room, singling other people out. The girl shot a quick glance in the duo’s direction, but Rat couldn’t see her expression because her hair was in the way.
Beyond the four girls, nearly hidden behind the bodies of the other children, three larger males sat hunched together in a corner to the right. One of them was speaking animatedly. He would keep sending accusing glares at someone far across the room. Rat followed his gaze. He ended up seeing a small boy sitting alone at the other end of the cafeteria. The boy was staring down at his soup, looking both paranoid and forlorn at the same time.
“Weasel…”
The girl nodded without looking up. She chewed on a piece of bread before going on. “Snake thinks that Pebble told Ms. Holli about him smoking with the teenagers last month,” she said calmly. Rat furrowed his thin eyebrows. “Pebble? Pebble couldn’t tell on anybody, let alone Snake. He’d probably pee his pants at the thought of it.” Rat had mumbled the last part, knowing Weasel would not appreciate it. She sent him a look; she had heard him.
“Pebble was there, remember? He was standing with Ms. Holli when she saw. Snake thinks he told her.”
“Snake’s an idiot.”
“Pigeon’s coming.”
The girl who had been standing with the others was now heading straight for them. Her feathery light brown hair fell around her shoulders as she sat at their table across from them. “Hi Weasel. Rat.”
Rat nodded in greeting, and Weasel said, “Hello, Pigeon. Do you have any messages for us?”
“Yes, in fact, I do. And I’m in a rush, so let’s get through this quickly, please.” She glared pointedly at Rat.
“Who, me?” Rat protested. “I never give you any problems.” His voice was dripping with mischievous sarcasm. Pigeon rolled her eyes and shook her head before saying, “Whatever. Anyway, the first one is for Rat; it’s from Pop-Rocks.” Rat frowned and glared at Pigeon. “You love killing me on the inside, don’t you?” Pigeon looked smug, but didn’t respond.
Rat liked Pigeon well enough. She wasn’t like most other girls in the Orphanage; she didn’t drive him crazy from endless gossip, and she didn’t cry whenever she was upset. The two of them were on good terms.
Pigeon had come to the Orphanage two years before Rat, but he was older then her by two years. She was a thin girl, but had a strong personality that Rat (on occasion) respected. He had quickly found after his arrival at the Orphanage that almost everyone had a type of “occupation”. Pigeon’s was delivering messages – obviously.
After Weasel arrived at the Orphanage, two months after Rat, she had asked the other girl why she liked passing on messages for others. “Oh, that’s easy,” Pigeon had said. The three of them had been outside in the large back field, sitting close together in the grass. “First off all, if everyone trusts me with all the important stuff, I become untouchable. They’re all too afraid I’ll spill some big secret of theirs; and it’s real handy, too. You can’t trust anybody around here if you know what’s good for you. And I always know what’s going on, like if there’s going to be a fight or if something fun is happening. Besides, it’s a great way to keep tabs on all the news. ”
Pigeon was simply perfect for the job, too. She ate fast and little, so she could spend most of her mealtimes receiving and sending messages. She also had a very good memory. Most of the time you only needed to tell Pigeon the message once and she would be able to recite it perfectly. But one had to be careful; Pigeon rarely chose sides.
There was only one thing that Rat disliked about the younger girl. She enjoyed imitating the voices of the person who had sent the message. Whenever Pigeon gave you a message from someone you particularly despised, you would have to hear their voices as well. In this case, the message being from Pop-Rocks, the distain was doubled.
Pigeon took a deep breath, and then released a high pitched giggle. “Hi Rat! It’s Pop-Rocks. I just wanted to remind you that my birthday’s next month. So if you want to give me any kind of present, you’re welcome whenever you like. I really hope we can talk later. Kisses!”
Rat groaned and hid his face in his arms. His mop of white hair contrasted with the black material of his jacket. Weasel looked as if she was trying her best not to laugh. Pigeon wasn’t as courteous. “I think,” Pigeon said to the boy, sounding smug, “that she was trying to seduce you or something. Gross; I really hate doing messages for Pop-Rocks. It always leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”
Rat looked up and glared at her, but Pigeon continued, “The other one is for Rat, too. It’s from Rikki.”
Both Rat and Weasel looked surprised. “Rikki?” Weasel asked. “But he never gives us messages…” She trailed off. “Do I…? Should I leave?” Pigeon looked at her apologetically. “Yes. Sorry. I’ll talk to you in a minute though, ‘kay?” Weasel understood and nodded to them both before leaving the table. Rat watched her go, and Pigeon started the message. Her voice became deeper and smooth.
“Rat. It took you longer then I thought for you to find Snake out. I expected more from you. Actually, no. I’m sure Weasel was the one who eventually found out, not you. What’s wrong? Is your little know-it-all getting lazy? Tired of having to do all of the work? I’m not surprised.
“Rat, I just want to give you a heads up. Things are about to get exciting, and I want you on your toes. I do enjoy these games we play.”
His expression looked passive, as if what Pigeon had said meant nothing to him, but inside Rat’s mind was reeling. Rikki and Rat had always been on okay terms with each other. If they stayed out of each other’s way, nobody got hurt. But, of course, there were always exceptions….
Rikki is a sixteen-year-old boy. Some might call him handsome, and others might call him little less then ugly. It depends on how you look at him. With his swampy green eyes, Rikki could intimidate anyone easily. His black hair was long and always pulled back in a low pony-tail; this did not hinder his frightening stature.
Because Rikki’s sixteen, it’s quite odd for him to still be at Dusktown Orphanage. Usually how it works is that once a child has turned sixteen, they are sent to another town to be in a foster family. But Rikki was still here. Everyone wondered why, but knows better then to ask. It wasn’t as if Rikki was any trouble to them, anyways. If you didn’t make Rikki angry and stayed on his good side, he didn’t bother with you. Coincidentally, Rat was not really on Rikki’s good side.
“Well, do I?”
Rat was broken from his thoughts when he tuned into Pigeon asking him something. Being the gentlemen he was, Rat said, “What? Sorry, I wasn’t listening. Did you say something?” Pigeon grunted lowly in impatience. “I asked you if I had to bribe you.”
“Bribe me for what?”
“You’re such an idiot! I know you’re going to tell Weasel what I said even after I made her leave. Rikki specifically wants Weasel not to know. I don’t know why, but then again, I don’t care. Whatever goes on between you and him doesn’t matter to me in the slightest; except if it messes with my allowance. But that’s another matter entirely. So, do I?” Pigeon glared hard at him. She just wanted this conversation to be over.
Rat had to admit, he was a bit impressed. Telling Weasel was the first thing he had been going to do. Rikki was, and had been, a serious problem for them both. Unlike Snake, who made his deeds known so that anyone could figure him out, Rikki was smart. He was fast and he was sneaky. Rikki knew just how to mess with Rat’s more instinctual head. Was Rikki really up to something? Did he just want Rat to get all paranoid? Maybe this was all a trap – make Rat feel like he knows everything, and then strike when he least expects it.
Rat sighed. He hated strategy games; they were more Weasel’s turf. But if Rat couldn’t tell her, he would have to figure this out on his own. How troublesome.
“Yeah, fine, sure. I won’t tell her.”
Pigeon kept staring. “Promise?”
“Whatever, I promise; are you happy now? Now go on, fly away before you ruin the rest of my day.”
Pigeon, with a triumphant smile, did just that. She then proceeded to run to Weasel, grab the girl’s wrist, and then drag her to the other side of the room. Rat rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired.
This was just great – more secrets.
*~*~*~*
When Weasel finally returned, Rat asked her what they had been talking about. Weasel simply gave him her don’t-worry-about-it look and continued eating. Rat sulked about this for the rest of dinnertime.
Now the two of them were heading towards the staircase that led to the second floor. On the next floor were everyone’s rooms. It being almost nine, Rat and Weasel had decided to go upstairs to talk about Snake before curfew, which was eleven ‘o’clock. “Pebble could be in big trouble if Snake gets a hold of him,” Weasel muttered, mostly to herself. But Rat had heard, and he couldn’t help but think, Snake isn’t our worst problem.
Weasel hadn’t asked once about what Pigeon had told him, and quite frankly it frustrated him. He hadn’t expected any less from her, though. Weasel was observant; in Rat’s mind she probably already knew Rikki was up to something. But she still could have asked. Rat probably would have told her if she had just asked, promise to Pigeon or no. And he knew Weasel knew that too. Yet she continued on as if nothing of any significance had been said between him and Pigeon. Rat hesitated. Did she really trust him that much?
Perhaps he was giving her too much credit.
As the two of them began ascending up the stairs, they heard their names being called. Ms. Holli was running towards the both of them while trying to pull on a thick coat. Ms. Holli was one of the nicer staff that worked at Dusktown Orphanage, and had a kind of bond with all of the orphans there. Even Rat, who had no interest for making friends, liked her more then most of the other kids did. He even smiled as she approached.
“Oh, Weasel, Rat, I’m so happy you’re not up yet,” she told them. The sound of wailing snow grew slightly from outside, and the already icy windows turned whiter with frost. “There’s a new child coming here to the orphanage.”
“Is there?” Weasel asked, a faint touch of excitement coming off her words. Rat’s smile left. Ms. Holli smiled and nodded. “Yes. Actually, Neal was supposed to have dropped him off an hour ago, but they got lost on the way back. They’re coming up in about five minutes… and they need help bringing his things inside. I was hoping the two of you would help me?”
“Are you bloody serious?” Rat was shocked. “Have you looked outside? It’s probably thirty degrees below out there! There’s probably three feet of snow. We’ll freeze before we even get to the car.”
Ms. Holli said, “Oh, please Rat? Everyone else is already upstairs. Ruby already left for home. I know you hate getting cold, but I really do need your help.” During this, Weasel said nothing, but Rat could feel her watching him and waiting for his answer. He was silent for a moment. Then, “Alright, fine. But I’m holding this grudge on the stupid new kid. It’s not like we need any more trouble here anyway.”
Weasel and Rat both put on their thick winter coats that hung with all the others at the front of the building. Once ready, Ms, Holli opened the door with a bit of difficulty. Rat was immediately assaulted with biting wind and snow. Beyond the overhead light, everything was still and dark, so he could barely see five feet in front of him.
The three of them waited outside in the cold snow. They looked towards the far of road, which was visible from where they were standing through a brake in the trees. Rat could see yellow and red lights flying past each other, all of them having a place to go somewhere deep in the unknown darkness. He suddenly wondered what it was like at his old neighborhood, or how his house looked, or if it was still there. He wondered about that one girl – what was her name? Eliza? – had ever learned to play the flute like she had said when they were small. Rat thought about all the things he had left behind when he had run away from home. Did they sell it? Maybe they donated it or gave it all away. Perhaps they had used it as evidence after his disappearance. Rat then recalled not having many things to start with.
Two yellow lights caught Rat’s attention, and he realized that it was a truck. It climbed up the frozen assault and rolled before Weasel, Ms. Holli and himself. Keeping the motor running, a man opened the door and quickly hopped out of the driver’s seat. From the headlights and the lights inside the car, his face was easily seen.
Neal was another kind of staff that worked for the Orphanage; Rat guessed that he was somewhere in his early twenties. His job was usually to pick up nearby children who were unfortunate enough to have to come here. Neal was also the one that took the older kids to foster parents nearby. Sometimes he worked in the kitchens or helped the Chief with paperwork and such. Rat even remembered Neal helping Ms. Holli with the younger children one day. Something had seemed different that day, but he hadn’t known what.
Neal was wearing a pathetically thin jacket and jeans, so he ran up to the three of them and said, “I’m going to bring him inside. There’s one suitcase in the passenger seat and another in the back. In the trunk there’s a box full of the rest of his things; Rat can get the box.”
Quickly everyone hurried to do their job. They followed Neal to the truck and Rat headed straight for the trunk. He pulled himself into the back by resting his foot on the tire and throwing the other one over the edge. Rat covered his eyes so the snow could not blind him as he looked for the box. It was a sealed cardboard box that sat at the very corner of the trunk. Stepping in the rest of the way he picked it up. It wasn’t too heavy. Rat hadn’t really expected it to be.
“Hey!” he yelled, hoping to get Neal’s attention. When he wasn’t heard, Rat turned and yelled again. “Neal!” This time he got the man’s attention. As Neal looked back, Rat quickly studied the boy who was standing beside him.
He was short, about Pebble’s height, and had on no jacket and sweat pants. He was shivering fiercely. Most people who didn’t have a jacket on and who had been forced to stay outside in this kind of weather would have been drilling holes into Rat’s head with malice. Instead the boy’s head kept facing towards the building. Because of the dark, Rat couldn’t see much detail, like the boy’s eyes or hair or skin color.
“Is this stuff breakable?”
Neal turned to the boy and said a few words. The boy shook his head, still looking forward. Neal looked back and said, “No, its not! But why–”
Rat tossed the box onto the ground. It landed with a satisfying ‘bang!’
Eventually they all made it inside and Neal closed the door behind the girls. Rat greeted the warm air happily, refusing to take off his coat until he could feel his nose again. Weasel turned to Ms. Holli and asked, “Where is he going to stay?”
As Ms. Holli removed her coat and handed it to the boy, she told Weasel, “Rat has the extra bed in his room, and the second closet.”
Rat’s insides boiled. His room? His room! There was no way he was going to let some strange kid he didn’t even know in his room with his things, doing who knows what with them. Rat was not one for roommates. His last one was a boy they called Snacks. Snacks didn’t know the definition of ‘personal space’ and had eventually been literally thrown out when Rat had entered one of his rages after Snacks messed with his… well… old companion. He now resided with a tall boy named Shark.
But before Rat could argue about the unfairness of the situation, somebody said, “There you are!”
Rat turned to see Pigeon and the blond haired girl coming down the stairs. Weasel stepped over to them. “Hello Pigeon. Hello Strawberry. Is something wrong?” Pigeon crossed her arms. “Yes something’s wrong. We’ve been looking for you for fifteen minutes! Where have you – you know what? I don’t want to know. Just come on!” Before Weasel could oppose, she was once again dragged by the wrist and up the stairs. Shooting everyone an apologetic look, she called back, “Sorry. I’ll drop this off at Rat’s room. Goodnight!”
Ms. Holli and Neal both said goodnight back even after Weasel could no longer be seen. Rat watched, unhappy.
*~*~*~*
“Alright, shrimp, this is how it works. This is my side of the room. Don’t go on my bed. Stay out of my closet. It’s probably a good idea not to talk to me or ask me any stupid questions. Right?” Rat looked behind him and glared at the boy. He jumped, and then nodded forlornly. “Good,” said Rat. His room was small, but big enough for two or three people to share. His bed sat on the left side of the room, and another one without sheets was pushed up against the far wall, which was a pale green color. A few of Rat’s possessions – clothes, mostly – were scattered haphazardly around the room. He had already moved to pick some of them up and put them on ‘his side’ of the room. “Also, I don’t help with any homework. Figure it out on your own. Come over here and help me move this bed, shrimp.”
Now that they were inside, Rat took in the kids appearance more, memorizing it. He had short curly red hair and pale blue eyes. His skin was rosy from the cold outside. He was a small, thin boy that resembled Pebble in most ways of body and personality. But the boy, deciding if he was going to live here he should probably start standing up for himself, stated, “I have a name, you know–”
“And I don’t want to hear it,” snarled Rat. Sure, I’m being a little harsh, Rat thought to himself. But he’ll thank me for it later. He’s not going to get anywhere with all that shyness. Look where that got Pebble. “Now get over here and help me move your bed.”
He looked cross, but the boy decided he should probably not argue. At least not with Rat. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still open himself somewhat. He moved towards Rat and grabbed one side of the iron bedpost. “Is your name really Rat?” he asked quietly, but loud enough so that Rat could hear him.
Rat shot him a look. “What? No, don’t be stupid. Rat’s my Surname.”
“So it’s your last name? What about those girls? Weasel, Pigeon, Strawberry? Those aren’t their last names, are they?”
“No,” Rat said angrily, putting the bed down so he could concentrate. “Listen, you little midget. Most of the kids that end up here don’t have last names anymore. Usually they forget them, or maybe they just don’t know their last names. Whenever someone new comes to the Orphanage, they’re nameless.”
“What about your actual name?”
Rat rolled his eyes. “As if those mean anything anymore; nobody knows anyone’s first name around here. Ms. Holli doesn’t even use them, even though she would like to.”
“Then what is a Surname?”
“It’s a name that someone who already lives at the Orphanage gives you – usually its your roommate or maybe its just someone you become friends with quickly. Anyway, they’re called Surnames because they represent the last names we don’t have. No one uses first names. I’d bet most of us don’t even remember them anymore. I barely remember mine.” Alright, this may have been stretching the truth just a bit. But Rat would have loved to forget his real name. It was just a burden to him.
The boy nodded and asked, “Who gave you your Surname?”
Rat shook his head. “Duh know. Everyone just started calling me Rat one day, and I went along with it. Now shut up and help me move this stupid thing.”
They both lifted at the same time, but Rat found that the bed seemed lighter. He glanced at the boy as they moved it; he didn’t seem to be having any trouble with the weight at all.
As they settled it parallel to the right wall, Rat said to the boy, “Strong for a shrimp, aren’t you?” The boy just shrugged. He looked tired. Rat paused for a second. “Ant,” he finally said, and then he walked to his side of the room. The boy looked up. “What?”
“Your Surname is Ant. I’ve decided. And don’t look at me like it’s a stupid name. It’s better then being called Skito, isn’t it?”
“Who’s that?”
Rat pulled off his shirt and jacket and then pulled on a clean long sleeved nightshirt. It was too cold to sleep without one. Looking down at his black pants and deciding he was too tired to bother, he walked over and turned the lights off.
“No one you need to worry your pretty little head about. There’s some covers in your closet behind the bed. Get some sleep.”
As Rat lied down, he listened to Ant’s shuffling steps and the opening of the closet doors. Soon enough Ant was lying in the bed, pulling the covers closer to himself. Then it was quiet.
“Rat?” Ant’s voice was very soft.
“What?”
“What about that girl who was with us? What was her name?”
Rat turned around and looked in the younger boy’s direction. Even though it was dark, Rat’s vision was better then most peoples. He could see Ant’s outline. The boy was lying on his stomach, looking in his direction. “Her name’s Weasel,” Rat told him. Ant thought about that for a bit. “Who named her? Was it that girl with the brown hair?”
“No. I did.” Rat turned back over and closed his eyes.
“Why did you name her Weasel?” Ant asked. His voice was starting to fade from exhaustion.
No doubt he’s had a long day, becoming an orphan and all, Rat though cruelly. Then he thought about Ant’s question.
“I… I don’t know why I call her that. I guess it just fits her.”
“Cool…” Rat could almost hear Ant’s eyes sliding shut as the boy decided to drift off to a restless sleep.
Rat frowned and pulled the covers over his still cold nose. Then he said, just loud enough for Ant to hear, “Keep out of my stuff. Stay off my side of the room. Don’t ask stupid questions.”
Please tell me if you like it.
Carmen, loved the recipe book. I think you’re right, there are ton’s of little memories of each other that would be great to capture and share. I can’ t think of any right now but… oh wait
My kids!
They finally got to build their first snowman the other day and they did a great job. Some little neighbor kids who moved in recently helped them make it. Actually, they helped Lily make it, Benjamin threw snowballs the whole time. I think he hit the little neighbor boy in the head which sent him home. He, of course, denied he was throwing snowballs AT people and just said he was throwing them “UP”.
My future little politician 
Ella is walking around now. So to celebrate her new mobility she scooted her little rocking chair from her room to the TV room and promptly sat down and started to rock. She even stole the remote. I found it next to her chair. But the chair was facing the bookcase, not the TV. I wonder if she knows something?
Benjamin is as hooked on video games as his dad was at his age. I think the best thing to ever happen to me was that the Atari we had broke and we had to take it back. I got to grow up all the way to junior high before getting our Nintendo. Hmmm, sounds like a plan.
He also cries at a moments notice. He’s quite dramatic. We thought getting his tonsils out would help improve his sensitivity, but I think he’s just more determined now.
Can you be a determined sensitive? Is that like being a romantic cynic. Maria?
Anyway, see mom, we haven’t all left.
I would acces facebook more often but I can’t get it on my computer at work and I never have time at home so this is better for me at the moment.
circus was great with lexie and James. they were great and they enjoyed it. James fell asleep for about 30 min, but Lexie stayed awake. They ate and ate and ate, cotton candy, popcorn, Icee’s, and more. took them for ice cream after. They are well sugared up for Crystal and Jayme, (sorry)
concern is: the circus is nothing like it use to be. they did not have much of the animal acts like they use to when my kids were little. alot of acrobats and clowns and shows, I saw alot of the kids getting pretty board. oh well, guess the circus is on a budget also. but they sure ask alot for the plastic light up toys!!!
love the receipes carmen, they are great, you did a fabulous job on them, Crystal loves her also. I made a little book for the receipes and put the desserts in another little book. James (bubs) has had terrible ear infections this last year. Crystal took him to a specialist last week, and they have decided to put in ear tubes and something about his adnoids being taken out. that will happen in the next couple of weeks. Christopher had tubes when he was about the same age, but not adnoids being removed. Pray for the little guy, he is so cute and loveable, he just loves to be hugged. We are taking Lexie to the circus this weekend, it’s her birthday present. she has know for a few weeks, and keeps saying, but Bubs can’t come, right , she loves her brother, but she is looking forward to a day with nana and pawpaw.
Bill was in a bad wreck on November 30th, but he never comes into the website anymore, because he said he spends all of his time in Facebook. He talks to Buddy a lot, and Buddy doesn’t bother coming into this website anymore, either. Lainie no longer has a computer, and there really isn’t anybody left. Beth and Brenda never have been very active in the site.
Anyway, Bill was badly hurt. He was hit from behind by an 18 wheeler, which smashed his small Toyota into the car ahead of him, and he really didn’t feel “hurt”, but decided two days later that he’d better see a lawyer and a doctor. As it stands, he has a busted up disc, and may have to have back surgery, but is resisting that. He’s going to a chiropractor. He bought a new great big truck (no more small cars, said Nancy) and I guess his medical bills are being paid. (I hope). Still….he’s left with a lifetime problem.
Our family has it’s share.
I called Lainie tonight, and she’s deathly sick with something that sounds like pneumonia to me. She said if she isn’t better in the morning, some friends will take her to the doctor.
If I can’t use my $25,000 well paid for(ok, very partially paid so far) skills for a real job that pays me, I suppose the next best thing for me to do is something for the family. The fun facts went off so well that it is time to expand it into larger stories about the family. I know that whenever we get together we think of so many funny things to talk about and everything reminds us of something.
NO MATTER HOW SMALL or trivial you may think it is, please right it up and send it to me. Make notes when you think of something and then when you get a chance, type them up real good and send them to me. It is about time our huge family came together to create something good. Not sure if that came out how I wanted it to, but you get the jest.
KIDS, KIDS, KIDS. Our kids and grandkids do something everyday!! Take a minute to make some notes. These will remind you of other things and so on and so on.
KEEP SENDING FUN FACTS. I need them for more recipe cards.
OK, SHUTTING UP NOW. Don’t make me YELL AGAIN in a couple of months when I have been totally ignored again.
love you all, -carmen
By now, most of you have your recipe books. Ben and Julie…I have yours printed and ready to mail. Just haven’t been able to actually take it to the post office yet. Everything is so far away from me it seems like. I promise I will mail very soon.
Some of you printed your own. Thank you very much!! I hope you like.
Thanks again to everyone that helped I hope you love and will keep forever and print extras for your kids and grandkids. It may be the only way we are remembered.
ALSO…I will continue to make the recipe cards and hopefully upload them as they are made so you can print them if you want them. If you have recipe you want to add…send them to me and I will add them to the list. -carmen
Either I don’t have the right email address or you just stick at a simple reply that says ok. I never know if you have gotten and email I sent. So…FYI: I have finished the recipe cards and emailed the info to you. I would like to add them to a folder HERE so that everyone has access to them and can print them at leasure, but I am not sure the best way to do that.
AND…I know I mentioned this before, but maybe you could figure how to connect this to FACEBOOK. I personally don’t pay much attention to my facebook, but if I am notified when through my email or maybe for those people that DO check their FAcebook more would be reminded of THIS WEBSITE a little more. If you would like to make Jason and administrator on this, I can get him to do it.
Carmen, here is one: Bill tried to teach Buddy how to talk, when Buddy was only eight months old, and Bill was not quite three. Bill showed Buddy words and pictures in a book, and if Buddy didn’t say it, Bill whacked him.
There were fifteen of us for Christmas dinner: Dad and I; Jason, Carmen, jordan, Teyla, Maria, Tony, Holli, Lauren, Amber, Kory, kory’s mother, Rose; Austin, Chelsea; and i guess that’s all. We had a huge meal, ham, potatoe salad, and all the trimmings. (NO MORE TURKEY)
Maybe Christmas was in your head, and you were not thinking, but your brother had a very important birthday-his fiftieth! Where were his birthday good wishes?!
Cinnamon Rolls
2 c. scalded milk
1/2 c. shortening
1 c. mashed potatoes
5 tsp. or 2 pkgs. yeast
1/2 cup warm water
2 eggs, slightly beaten
1 c. sugar
1 tsp. salt
1/2 cup nuts (opt.)
1 cup raisins (opt.)
7-8 cups flour
Pour milk over shortening and let cool to lukewarm. Soften yeast in 1/2 cup warm water. Add to milk mixture w/ eggs, sugar, salt, mashed potatoes and 4 cups flour. Beat with mixer until smooth and well blended. Add remaining flour slowly to make a soft dough. Cover and allow to rise until double. Divide dough in half and roll into rectangle 1/2 inch thick. Spread w/ butter. Sprinkle brown sugar and cinnamon. Roll up and cut into 1 inch slices. Place on cookie sheets and let rise until double. Bake at 350 for about 20 min. Put icing on while hot and still in pans. Makes about 3 dozen.
Icing
4 oz. cream cheese
1/2 cup softened butter
1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1/2 tsp. vanilla
pinch of salt
Posted by Westlake Ward Relief Society
Merry Christmas everybody. I hope you all have a great one! its strange that all of us
are everywhere, when so many years we all were here. And spend many together. it’s
strange that we would have never realized we would be all spread out. take advantage
of your family togetherness now, later in years you dont’ know where they all will
end up. I love you all and have a merry christmas!
I guess I should post my address. I tend to forget that I am one of the MOVERS. I am thinking other people needed to post theirs, not me. duh!
Carmen & Jason Viera
14263 Sea Eagle Drive
Jacksonville, FL 32226
It’s about 9:00 AM in Stuttgart, Germany right now, so you would be about 5 and 1/2 hours old. I am already out of the bed and running around. I popped in to say “hello” to Audrey Sprague, Major Gene Sprague’s wife. She had their sixth child on the 15th, evening their children up to 3 boys and 3 girls. They ended up with eight – four each. I wondered how anybody could possibly have so many children.
I hope you have a great birthday, Bud. Having a Christmas baby boy is a nice thing to happen to a mother. It happened to Mary, too.
I just went to look at the Polhemus and Lake genealogy, and I see that too much of the “Lakes” are showing “ready” instead of being finished. Maybe you’d better check that out!!!
I’m working on that assignment, and I’ll have it ready for you this weekend, but it isn’t easy.
I called Cathie tonight, and she gave me the details of Kirsty’s death and burial. Oddly, she didn’t die of anything related to her cancer. She died of a clot that began in her side, and hit her heart. About noon on Saturday (last), Cathie called Kirsty, and found that she was in a lot of pain with her side. She asked her if she could go to her house, and take her to the Emergency Room. Kirsty agreed. Even though her father was there, she preferred that Cathie do it. When Cathie arrived, Kirsty was in so much pain that she could barely move. Finally, she got up to go to the bathroom first, and Cathie heard her screaming, “Mom, Mom!” Cathie ran back to the bathroom, and caught Kirsty coming out, and laid her across the bed. Kirsty said,”I’m dying.” Cathie yelled for her father to call 911. Just as they got her to the hospital, and on the bed in the Intensive Care Unit, she died right there. They worked on her for 35 minutes, but couldn’t bring her back.
Muslims don’t waste anytime with getting their deceased in the ground. The women are supposed to wash the bodies of the women, but Kirsty had already had it understood that no one but her husband could touch her. It was unorthodox, but they allowed it. Josef washed her, and wrapped her in the shroud. They do not embalm. They put her in a casket to take to the Muslim cemetery, but then they took her body out, and laid her on her side facing east. Her father and Josef got down in the burial plat, and heaped dirt around her body to keep it from falling. They then put a vault over it, and put the dirt on top. Muslims believe that the soul or spirit stays with the body for several days after death (I forget the reason), but the sooner the body decays and goes to dust, the better. That’s why they do not embalm, or put the bodies in caskets or inside vaults, or in any way prevent the body from decomposing naturally.
Kirsty had a dream just a short while before her death. One of her co-workers told Cathie about it. She dreamed that she was in a beautiful place, where there was such peace, and no pain. But people kept trying to pull her back, and she didn’t want to come back. I thought that was interesting.
Cathie is devastated. She didn’t really belive her daughter was going to die. She thought all of the medications she was taking was going to make her well. I didn’t know Cathie thought that way. I knew when I talked to her three weeks ago that Kirsty wasn’t going to live.
I feel so terribly sad for Cathie.
