Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Your not my Husband!

Last weekend my husband and I along with our youngest son and my wonderful mother inlaw went on a short trip to Jackson Hole in Wyoming and then on to Rexburg Idaho to visit our former bishop and his family. His son was leaving for a two year mission for the church we belong to,(the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints).
The weather was perfect and it had been a while since I had been any where, so it was a very welcomed break.
I love it when I get to sleep in a hotel, I feel like I'm truly on vacation. After spending a great day in the beautiful cowboy town of Jackson Hole where you really feel you have stepped back in time we drove to the small college town of Rexburg Idaho. It had been over 20 years since I had visited Rexburg and there have been some changes. They have a beautiful new Temple up by Brigham Young University, Idaho. The hotel was the Best Western and it was nice for being a small town hotel. Our room was on the bottom floor and the large french window lead to the indoor swimming pool. You could also get to the front desk that way too and they had placed some tables and chairs for the complimentary breakfasts they served each morning.
The first morning we were there happened to be on a Sunday. Church started at 9am and Colin and I had just started eating when I thought I would go to the room via the french window as it was just a few steps away from where we were sitting to let Mom and Tyler know it was more than just a muffin and a glass of milk.
I saw that the curtain hadn't been pulled all the way closed and the window was either stuck or locked when I pulled on it so I knocked several times to get someones attention. No one answered and I knew that my husband was by this time out of the shower and dressed but there was no life to been had.......until I cupped my hands against the glass and peered at a naked man tip-toe toward the door of the room as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. I thought that is strange "isn't Tyler not dressed yet",until I realized that the naked man had a tattooed cross on his back between his shoulder blades. My mouth dropped to the floor,open like the mouth of the Grand Canyon, I was frozen for a brief moment suddenly feeling hot and flushed I realized that isn't my room, that isn't my husband. Running quickly in my yellow high heels I ran to sit at the table where I had left my french toast and orange juice and as if I had never left. I don't think anyone noticed my fast moves. As I slowly glanced over to the scene of the crime, most likely titled "peeping Tammy" I caught a glimpse of the occupant looking out of his window wondering who had been knocking on his window. I took a quick breath and quickly looked away and rose to get a bowl of coco puffs, fitting I thought.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Make A Wish

As I was walking the dogs early one morning I passed a small grey Ford Ranger truck that was parked by the roadside. This little truck had been well used, the paint well worn but the memories of a wonderful Irish Granny came flooding back when I saw what was stacked high in the bed of that truck. There were bales of fresh hay, maybe eight or ten in all. Such a simple picture that said a thousand words.

I can’t be sure exactly when it was but I do know I wasn’t more than 15 years old I was in the car with my parents and grandparents heading to the next big town (compared to where we lived) called Galashiels to do some shopping.

I was in the middle of the back seat with Granny and Papa on each side of me. I enjoyed the 30 minute drive, I loved to look out of the window and see the sheep in the fields, the horses grazing. On occasion we would recognize a neighbor’s car that had been to where we were bound. I always enjoyed listening to the conversations between my parents and Grandparents. I loved to be in the company of Granny and Papa. Granny was born in Northern Ireland; she was a wonderful person, someone who was pure and good in every way. She had character, innocent, funny and very superstitious.

This one particular Saturday afternoon as I was watching the road ahead, I thought I heard spitting. I didn’t pay too much attention to it until a few moments later I heard the sound again. My eyes quickly glanced toward my Mom who was in the front passenger seat, nothing to indicate the sound and then I heard it again for the third time and as I turned toward granny I caught her. She did it again, three short spits on her right tall finger, you know the one people use to make a rude suggestion to the driver who cuts you off. Spit, spit, spit, real fast.

I wasn’t quite sure if I had seen what I saw. I sat very quiet like for a little while until granny did it again. I could not stand it anymore I just had to ask as it didn’t make sense to me. It was no big deal to her it was just second nature to spit three times fast on the tallest finger.

“Granny, why do you do that?” I asked. Her simple answer was “I saw a lorry with hay on it”. I turned my head around to look out of the back window of the car to see what she meant and she was right there was a lorry that was hauling bales of hay. Still not clear to what she meant she proceeded to explain that every time she sees a lorry that is moving with bales of hay she spits three times fast on that famous finger and makes a wish.