I Remember Daddy

My Mom emailed me this article written by my Dad's cousin, Betty Jerrell, about her father, my great uncle. Betty's mom, Great Aunt Gladys, and my Grandpa Carl Teague (Dad's dad), were siblings.

It's a story of farming in Alabama during WWII. And Betty has a way with words, if you ask me.

My Grandpa Teague didn't get married until he was 25, which was "old maid" age back then--especially in the South (Alabama). And Grandma was an old maid, too, even though she was just 20.Today we gasp when we hear about 20-year-olds getting married, because they're so young, but back then they gasped because they thought they already had one foot in the grave.

Grandpa's sister, Gladys, Betty's mom, beat her brother to the altar by a decade, getting married when she was 15. When I visited her back in 2002, Great Aunt Gladys told me that she never had to learn how to drive because she was didn't need her drivers license when she was 15, and then she got married so her husband carted her around. Her brother, my Grandpa, died in 1979, but Gladys is still kicking around to this day. She lives with her daughter Betty, who is only 16 years younger than she is. Her other two children have passed on before her.

Betty's article recalls when she was 11, so her mother (Gladys) was only 26 at the time, and "Daddy" was 31. 

The same age as I am today.

Two different worlds. They had so much responsibility back then. They had to be so grown up so quickly. Not only the parents, but the children. Eleven-year-old Betty worked the fields all day with her Daddy, and her 7-year-old sister joined them after lunch. Amazing.


(You'll probably have to click on the image below to be able to read it.)

Christmas Part III

After our Berkley Bonanza we hiked north to Mayberry for our part of Teague Christmas. I was pumped to give my family all my homemade gifts. JB was tired. Olivia was FLIPPED.

We got there ahead of the other car of Teagues, so it was just Aunt Annie and us for a little bit. Which was perfect for Olivia, who loves Aunt Annie, and who also needed some quiet times. So Annie changed O and put her in her jams and the little girl started to feel a little better.

Then we opened presents. I made something for everyone this year except for Dad, who got fishing gear. I cannot make fishing gear. Though I did give him and Mom a copy of the Les Cheneaux calendar that I'm in. So that was kind of homemade.

Anyway, I did not take photos of everything, but here are some of the things that I made:


Okay, so I didn't make the French drawing on the left that Annie got. But I did dig it out of a pile of art at an estate sale and took the time to go back the next day when everything was 50% off. I think my favorite thing I made for Teagues was Tommy's MSU Vernor's picture in the middle there. I self-matted a double mat for that sucker. And I like it so much I'm going to make one for myself! I also made Mom an upholstered cushion for her kitchen bench, and matted for Krystal a photo I took of our beloved pet, Reba.

Present breakdown: Again, too much to name, but most memorable gifts were a mega-giftcard from Tommy to my favorite quilting shop, Smith-Owen. He was sneaky and picked it up when he was in Grand Rapids a few weeks ago. I had no idea he did that. V. cool! K embroidered each of us a pillowcase that she (er, MOM) made. K does beautiful embroidery. And since my old purse was dead (I bought it over six years ago when I was in Nashville for cousin Sarah's wedding!), JB and Annie put their dollars (and Anne's Macy's discount) together and got me this:

(Note also the new MSU shirt, and the cool Christmas tree that we picked out of Mom and Dad's front yard a few weeks ago. I think it was a Norwegan Pine. Very good branches for hanging ornaments.)

After presents were opened and Olivia went to bed, it was game time. Our last game of the night was Apples to Apples, which by that time, our Czechoslavakian maid, Rachel, was there to play.

Some quotes:

Krystal : "I think Abraham Lincoln was ugly!"
Tommy, looking at K: "People have told me that I look like Abraham Lincoln."

"If you pick Broadway, the terrorists win!"

"I did not tie a couch to my back!! It was a (upholstered) chair!" (True Story.)

And of course, as many family conversations tend to do, the talk came around to bodily functions. Don't everyone's family conversations do this?

So a few hilarious stories were told, causing tears to come to our eyes.

Then it was my turn to pull out a card for people to choose a definition for: Nasty.

The entries were thrown into the middle of the table and I picked them up and flipped them over, revealing two "fill-in-the-blank" cards. Anne shouted out, "FECES!" for her entry. Tommy couldn't top that one, I thought. But I didn't give him enough credit, as he said, "Dad's horseshoe-shaped turd!"

No contest.

"Tommy's feces wins!" I said.

Hope you all had a wonderful, horseshoe-shaped-turdless Christmas!

3 vs 13

Today was sister Anne and sister Melissa's graduations from Oakland U. (Congrats ladies!) So we loaded up April's Grand Prix and hit the road. My mom had called the night before to let us know that my cousin Emily was going to be visiting and that she really wanted to meet baby O.

Congrats Emily you were the first extended Bier family member to meet and interact with Liv! Don't let it go to your head... :)





fyi- Olivia doesn't seem to be a Cher fan.

Of course by the time we had left "The Hilton" we were late. So I took it upon myself to make up some time by using my handy lead foot. Mid-eighties in a seventy mile per hour expressway isn't too bad, but unfortunately the police officer didn't agree.

-Austin, this is the second time your "magic" sticker has failed us. For shame.-

I can't fault the guy for doing his job. And to be fair I WAS speeding. But it still sucks. Also he was probably the most abrupt police officer April or I had ever dealt with.

No asking if I knew why he was pulling me over.

No asking why I was speeding.

Just, "License. Registration. Proof of insurance. I read you going 84 in a 70." And he walked away.

Boo.

This is my third moving violation in my twelve years of driving. I've got a lot of work to catch up to April's thirteen.

Name Game

Ever since my coworkers learned that Baby H’s name was going to be a surprise they’ve been working really hard to guess it. They are constantly asking for clues and then listing off names so they can read the reaction on my face. I have not fallen for their games. The name has actually been thrown out there (along with like 100 other names) and I’ve given the same reaction. Heh heh heh. It helps to pretend that the baby has some other name, so if I do hear her real name I am not affected.

I decided to make guessing the name a game. My coworkers have all given their top two picks for her name and whoever guesses it will get the call at work when the baby is born, and she can then share the good news with everyone else. It’s actually been pretty fun. I gave some vaguish clues to help them along and these are their current votes:

• Heather
• Erica
• Josephine
• Olivia
• Wendy
• Charlotte
• Samantha
• Victoria
• Carla
• Stephanie
• Danielle
• Brianna
• Victoria
• Alexandra
• Georgia/Georgiana
• Joanna
• Cassandra
• Kendall
• Annika
• Paulette

Do you want to play? If you guess, you will be one of the first people we call! Here are the clues:

• It is a nod to my family…but that won’t help you unless you’re a Teague! Haha! Well, Melissa has the best resources on that, since she has a copy of the family tree.

• It has a male counterpart name. Example: Christina—Christopher, Anne—Andrew

• It has literary origins. Or, at least, I read that it was first used in a literary piece centuries ago.

• This has led me to feel that it is an older name, but a confidant told me that it’s also a newer name.

• At least one of my favorite TV shows or movies has either an actress or character with this name or derivative of the name.

Good luck!

Weekend Warrior

Well my weekend went by in a whirlwind! But that was fine by me because I had a lot of fun.

On Friday, Lulu got her haircut and nails trimmed so now she’ll be fashionable for photos with Baby H and will stop tripping on the stairs because of her long nails. Since she had gotten banned from PetSmart (for story, click here), I took her to a private groomer who did a fabulous job with her. Even better than a red bow from PetSmart, Lucy got a pink bandana!

Saturday got kicked off with my Grand Rapids baby shower.

My mom and sisters all came from east Michigan for it, and there was the usual sisterly drama involved. This time Krystal was not ready at her dorm when they got to East Lansing, so they left her behind and she had to drive herself. There was much phone calls and discussion about all this while I was trying to get ready. One would think that Krystal was at fault for not being home at the appointed time, but she preferred to lay the blame on Anne. Haha.

“Didn’t you miss out on not having sisters?” I teased JB.

JB’s Aunt Helen, Aunt Rhonda, and cousin Sarah from Tennessee also attended the shower, though I think they arrived with less issue than the Teagues.

Again, I was shocked by everyone’s generosity. As my mom put it, “I got the mother lode!”

One of the gifts that JB had put on the registry that we did not receive was the video game Rock Band for his Xbox 360. Every time we go to Target JB asks if we can buy Rock Band, which is $165. Baby registry day was no different. I had told him, “No,” as usual. “Fine then. I’ll just register for it!” he had said. So he did. And now everyone asks why Rock Band is on there.

I thought it would be funny when we got home from the shower to tell JB that we DID get Rock Band from Tommy, who thought it would be a good gift for the baby.

“What? No we didn’t,” said JB. “…..did we?” He looked around at the presents.

“He was home last weekend and sent it with Mom today,” we said.

“Really? I don’t believe you,” he replied.

We then admitted that it was a trick, which JB said was a very mean trick. He didn’t really believe us, but had started to develop a small glimmer of hope nonetheless.

I thought it was quite funny. I also think that the baby does NOT need rock band.

After the shower the Teagues also showered me with more presents of cool hand-me-downs that they nabbed from different places. Mom and I discussed things that I have yet to obtain for baby and I mentioned having to shop for a breast pump.

“What! No! Don’t do the breast pump! Those things are terrible!” she exclaimed. This outburst got everyone’s attention, including poor JB, the only guy in the house.

“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do when I’m at work, Mom?”

“Just do it yourself! It’s much less painful. Those breast pumps will mangle your boobs!”

“You want me to milk myself, like a cow?”

Yes, she did want me to milk myself like a cow. I told her that I would not be doing that. She said that perhaps technology has advanced since she last knew about pumps. I said that none of my friends have come to me with horror stories, so I think it’s safe these days. Mom is still quite leary.

Then someone brought up borrowing a breast pump from a friend and Krystal was horrified, “That’s disgusting! I would never use a breast pump that belonged to someone else!”

Annie looked over at her. “This from the girl who has no issue with wearing other people’s underwear?”

Annie's got ya there, K!

Before they left, we all went to dinner at Yen Ching. It was JB and us five Teagues. As we entered the restaurant Mom said to JB, “Look, JB and all these women. It’s like a polygamist colony and we’re your wives. Well, except for me. That would just be weird.”

But JB having four sisters for wives wouldn’t be weird?

After they left JB turned to me and said (as he always does), “I’m really glad we got to hang out with your family today. I had a lot of fun. I really like your family.”

That’s because, well, the Teagues are entertaining even when they’re just being themselves.

After dinner JB, Lucy, and I went directly to the Hilton to hang out with the Tennessee family. There, Lucy wowed the crowd with her dog tricks and jumping Jack Russell legs.

Sunday was church, Crochet Day with some work friends, and then Bible Study baby shower. (Again, more wonderful gifts and love felt from everyone.)

Kristen and Seth gave us this really funny gag book and magnets about how not to raise your baby. There were nice drawings to accompany it. For instance, after bathing the baby, should you a.) dry baby with a towel or b.) put baby in clothes dryer? Apparently, the answer is A. My uncles and cousins have tried drying their sibs in the dryer, and my siblings and I played in the dryer plenty of times (without being brave enough to turn it on, probably because of the horror story that mom told us about the little boy who got cooked to death in a dryer) but I guess we should wait until the kid is old enough to play in the dryer herself and not start her out at such a young age. Besides, my mom gave me these wonderful hooded bath towels that I’m really excited to use instead.

Tonight we had dinner at the Hilton. Sooo good. Then we played a crossword game, where I was given a hard time for spelling Whore. I'd like to point out that others who were playing spelled much naughtier words! You know who you are! :)

Retaliation

My first baby shower was a few weeks ago in Mayville. My sisters and mom had been working very hard to get the house, food, etc, ready for the party. Sister Annie had been slaving particularly hard on everything. She had made and mailed the invites, managed the RSVP’s, and been home for the days leading up to the shower and thus did a lot of the preparing. Two other characters that were also home were Krystal and Mom. But Mom had gotten food poisoning the day before the shower and was kind of out of commission, and Krystal is a force to be reckoned with and hard to convince to help out if she has better things to do (sorry, K, you know it’s true—I’m sure you won’t deny this). Also, Krystal clashes with Annie and does not like taking orders from her, simply on principal.

One of the battles that Krystal lost was to clean her bathroom, which is the main bathroom that guests would be using. Her and Anne are the only two who use that bathroom and Anne was busy doing other things. Krystal reluctantly scrubbed the place down.

The night before the baby shower Krystal casually asks Mom, “Mom, you don’t use the purple toothbrush in my bathroom, do you?”

It was a silly question. Mom has her own bathroom. Why would she keep her toothbrush in the bathroom on the other side of the house?

“No. Why would I?” Mom replied.

“Good, because I cleaned the bathroom with it,” said Krystal.

Annie’s heart stopped. “That’s MY toothbrush!” she exclaimed.

“Oops!” said Krystal.

Krystal cleaned the bathroom (including the soap-scummed glass-walled shower) with Annie’s toothbrush and then put it back in the cupboard, where Anne later picked it up and brushed her teeth with it.

Annie was livid. Krystal is always messing with her. For example, just a few weeks earlier, she and Krystal had to share a bed when they had a house full of overnight guests. As Krystal climbed into the bed she had said to Anne, “If you so much as touch me in the night, I will kill you!” She then proceeded to wrap her entire body in a blanket so as to assure no accidental skin contact in the night, even though it was July and the house isn’t air conditioned. Anne was so unnerved by Krystal that she slept on the very edge of the bed all night and didn’t get any sleep.

So when Anne noticed that her toothbrush was moved to the shelf below it’s normal place, she had figured that Krystal had moved it because she didn’t want their toothbrushes to occupy the same air space or something.

Krystal is still defending her actions to this day: “I put the used toothbrush on the shelf below our toothbrush place, where the cleaning supplies are! Besides, it was an old ratty thing anyway!”

Anyone who truly knows Krytal would take this defense with a grain of salt. Yes, she is not above making an honest mistake. But she is also an ace liar and not above playing such a trick on her sister if she was in the right mood.

When I heard the story, I asked Anne what she was going to do to retaliate. My first idea was to clean the TOILET with K’s toothbrush, but that could lead to serious disease. And even if I was mean enough to let Krystal get diseased (which I’m not), anything she gets could easily be spread to the rest of us. In fact, all of our ideas risked too much disease, so we’re at a loss. Krystal is constantly getting up in Annie’s hair like that—she steals her clothes, beauty supplies, sunglasses, etc., with no remorse. And Anne does not retaliate.

I told Anne that perhaps Krystal does this because she seeks Annie’s attention.

The day after the shower, Krystal brought her luggage down that she would take back to Michigan State with her for the new school year. Anne said that Krystal’s luggage could not leave the house without it first being searched for stolen clothing. A careful search found both Anne AND Mom’s clothing in the bags destined for East Lansing. As if enough damage hadn’t been done already!

When you have several siblings, one must always be ready for retaliation. I am prepared for a Krystal attack. I have an arsenal of embarrassing Krystal stories that I could share with the world with the click of a mouse. Perhaps this is why she hasn’t messed with me like this. Well, one time she DID symbolically murder my stuffed bear because I said that she couldn’t have him for her own. But I think she knew better than to really murder him. That would have called for retaliation.

I can’t say for sure whether Krystal did this on purpose, but I’m looking to you, readers, to slip Annie some aces up her sleeve to hold until the next Krystal attack.

Baby shower #1 = Sweet Business

Well, I have to admit that after my first baby shower, I am starting to get excited about having the baby. I think it was the outfits. I got all these cool little outfits and I want to put someone in them! And dressing up Lucy just isn't the same!

This shower was put on by my sisters and mom. It was Cat In the Hat themed. My mother was the Cat in the Hat (fitting, as she was born the same year as the Cat in the Hat), Melissa and Krystal were Thing 1 and Thing 2. Anne did not claim a character, but she if I were to give her a name it would be "Work Horse" as she slaved away to make this thing happen. Rachel also gets props for her contributions.





Unfortunately, because I was the guest of honor and therefore busy, not many photos were taken. I got a few to post, however.

Notable things:

• Each table had a fishbowl centerpiece with two fish in it (for One Fish, Two Fish).
  

• My cake was pink with a boat on top (can't remember which Seuss book that was a throwback to), and there were cupcakes with blue frosting mixed with coconut, to symbolize the hair of Thing 1 and Thing 2.
• There was, of course, Green Eggs and Ham to eat! :)
  
• We played Dr. Seuss trivia.
  
• My little cousin Rex (the boy in the second photo, standing by the presents) tried ripping open my presents because he is not disciplined. Unfortunately, he is always a source of trouble. His mom, who was three feet away, did nothing to stop him. I got up and told him NO and took his hands away, which was useless. Finally awesome Heather got up and told him how it was. THANKS HEATHER!! My instincts said to scream at him, YANK him away, and lock him in the house for not being obedient, but I knew that that was overkill, so I froze. Thank you for taking action. I was so mad at myself for not being more like you. I am going to work on this. I don't have a problem kicking my own child's butt, but other people's kids are a different realm.
  
• I got a LOT of pink outfits. Not too much yet, but I'm nervous because I have three other showers coming, one of which is my work shower, where it's just a big 'ole, "Let's get her cute outfits!" party. I will try to get the word out that I'm already about 50% pinked out.
  
• I realized how many wonderful people I have in my life. Every gift was thoughtful and necessary and I am always amazed at everyone's generosity.

Well readers, I had all these plans for posts this week, but life took over. Boo to laundry and having to make dinner and feeling cruddy! I haven’t even started packing/planning for our upcoming vacation! Agh!

A few notes.

Friday-Saturday: Sister Krystal came over last weekend. We had a lot of fun. We did things like go to a Whitecaps (baseball) game with Bible Study friends, ate at Mongolian BBQ, shopped for yarn, and played card games. She and JB got to bond over this really cheesy long commercial for “Light Rock’s Greatest Hits,” where you get to see all the worst songs of the last three decades performed by their gnarly artists with the big hair and bitchin’ leisure suits. Apparently this was the source of much laugher for K and JB, as evidenced in some of these photos. JB also watched this with sister Annie when she last visited. I’m seeing a trend here…

Lulu also watched the show with them, but she was more happy just to be chillin’ on the couch with her best friend, Bunny, whom she drags around with her everywhere. Unfortunately for Bunny, Lucy doesn’t realize that he only has eyes on his face, not his butt, so he didn’t get to take in much of the show.

Sunday: K and I also went to the super cool Allegan Antiques Fair with Marian. My favorite purchase was a beautiful pink serving tray. I considered giving it to my sister Smelly for a Christmas present, but greed took over. (I’m also not sure how much she’d use one of these.) The sales lady asked if I had a pink and black kitchen. I wish! I told her no, I have a husband, so I try to be considerate of him and only get SOME pink things. Aren’t I a good wife?

Then Sister Annie stayed for one night on her way back from hanging with Brother Tommy in Chicago. She showed me this beautiful green ring she bought there, which made me green with envy.

Tuesday: I ate of the first fruits of our vegetable garden. Well, just one fruit—one little cherry tomato. But it was so good! I can’t wait for my other tomatoes to ripen!

Earlier on Tuesday I went for my standard pregnancy checkup. I’m still on target for weight gain, but when I asked the Doctor how things looked as he measured me, he said that I was looking a bit large (I’ve been telling everyone that baby will be large, but I know that Doctors can’t always believe everything their patients say). He said if I keep measuring large, he will want to order another ultrasound. He does not intend to change my due date, though. I asked my coworkers what good an ultrasound would be if you suspect a large baby and aren’t changing the due date. Their replies? C-section. No thank you! I am going to fight that one tooth-and-nail. God gave me birthing hips and I intend to use them. Hopefully it will not get to the point where the doctor would suggest such a horrible thing. If you are a praying person, please pray that this does not happen.

Big Mama Photo

So I’ve received a couple of requests for “preggo” pics. It is time that I address this.

I have been avoiding it for two reasons.

1.) I don’t like the words Preggo or Preggers.

Preggo makes me think of Prego and Ragu, the spaghetti sauces. When someone says, “Hey Preggo,” I feel like they are eyeing my belly as if it were some delicious pasta-majesty that they can’t wait to devour. This is creepy.

And Preggers makes me think of some sort of scabby skin disease.

“Did you hear about Sandra? She’s got The Preggers!”

Gasp!

“Oh no! What is she going to do?!???”

Those seem to be quite popular terms, and I understand that I am just neurotic about words. But I will never post a “Preggo Pic.” Unless it’s an image of a bowl of pasta.

There are more words in the English language that I actually abhor. I don’t abhor Preggers—it just makes me uncomfortable—really, who wants to be flaunting a skin disease? I do not share which words I abhor because people have used them against me, namely JB. He likes to throw them down to get under my skin. (This is very rude, JB!) Most of these words relate to babies, so I am kind of nervous about my upcoming baby showers and then the part where I HAVE the baby in real life. I have been pretty successful in not uttering these words but I know that won’t last for long.

2.) I am not that fascinated with photos of pregnant ladies, and so I never think to get one taken of myself. I don’t have the general fascination with pregnancy and babies that most women do. Couple that with the fact that I am always the one behind the camera, and also that I am not photogenic so people are not drawn to taking photos of me, and you get NO PHOTOS OF APRIL! This has always been a bummer for me. It’s very rare that my photo is taken, and I always seem to jack them up because I don’t know how to smile naturally, etc.

However, I will honor those with a curiosity of how the gut is progressing with the best that image that I can muster. It is from the Fourth of July weekend at the Farm. I know what you’ll say…I can’t really see your gut! Yeah, sorry. Nothing I can do about that. To help you get an idea of what I look like today, people say that I look HUGE (like as big as my coworker Lisa, who is due in 2.5 weeks), but I’ve only gained 15 lbs so far (right on target), so I’m not sure where that idea is coming from. I’ve known women who have gained 45, 60, and 90 lbs in pregnancy. THAT, my friends, is HUGE. Also, my doc recently said that I’m hiding things better because I’m so tall. Then the next day a coworker exclaimed how big I looked. IDK. I’ve got 2.5 months left.

I can’t promise any more big mama photos. JB is not particularly interested in them, either, so unless I train Lucy to work my camera, I’m not sure I’ll have much more to share. Sorry, guys!

Turd Creek

The other day I said to my coworker Brenda, “Then you’d really be up Turd Creek without a paddle!”

“Well, that’s a new way of putting it!” she replied.

I asked her what she meant and she said that she’d never heard that term before. She is from New Jersey, though, so I figured that this was a regional saying.

Then I dropped it on the in-laws last weekend. Mark and Marian laughed at my remark, but I was being serious. They, too, had not heard of Turd Creek. Like Brenda, they’ve heard of “Up a creek…” but not specifically Turd Creek.

I got this term from my Dad. I googled it though and there was almost nothing on it. My dad’s family is from Alabama, so I’m wondering if it’s a Southern thing. I think it’s a much more effective saying than plain, “up a creek without a paddle.” Whoopie do. You’re up a creek without a paddle. Just use your arms, fool!

But if I found myself up TURD Creek, I’d be more concerned. Not dipping my arms into that water! If THAT doesn’t mean stranded, I don’t know what does.

So, has anyone else out there heard this term before? Or is this a “Tom Teague Special”?

Sly little creatures

Small children are fast.

To give you a reference, they’re somewhere between a snake and a mongoose ... and a panther.

I have witnessed this several times lately. I am not as fast as them, so I have decided to register for a child harness/leash thing. If your child is that fast in public, help preserve their life by using a leash. Or terrify them with tales of strangers murdering them so that they will not leave your side. Supporting documentation: http://weblog.xanga.com/Crazyladypantyhose/587535799/item.html

Santa and the Walnuts

Fourth of July was good, but busy. JB and I helped get things ready for the annual Teague 4^th of July party. We also just hung out with Mom and Dad and siblings and had fun.

Two best Quotes from the weekend:

"These are great almonds!" said Tommy, as he fishes some nuts from a large bag.

"Those are walnuts," said JB (or Virginia, or me—we were all aware that they were walnuts).

"No, they're almonds," he insisted.

"No, they're walnuts—it says WALNUTS on the bag," we insisted back.

"Walnuts? No. It says ALMONDS. See, right here: D.I. ALMONDS."

Sorry, brother…

_____________________________________

When Ivan got to our house for the party, his father Eric told him that my Dad is Santa Clause, and that Ivan had better be good because Santa will remember if he was naughty or nice. The wonderful thing about children is that they believe anything you tell them, especially when the big man standing at the grill looks JUST LIKE Santa Clause.

When Ivan needed to go in the house later, he politely approached my Dad and asked,

“Santa, can I use your bathroom?”

Ivan was especially geeked when Santa let him drive his lawnmower around.

There are more photos from the party. You can check some of them out at www.flickr.com/violetjane if you want.

Mama's Got a Brand New Chair

Before JB and I learned we were having a baby I had made a list of three things I would like to obtain pre-baby. I figured that once the baby came we'd be living in poor-town, so any major purchases would need to be made beforehand.

1.) China cabinet: not everyone needs one, but I do. At least, I would use it a lot. Marian saw one at a high-end consignment shop for a good deal, and her good eye, along with some Bush Bucks helped me to realize this dream. Isn't that crazy! I mean, these suckers are usually really expensive! Marian postulated that it was marked down so much because of it's large size--not many people would want one this big. I am still floored that I have a china cabinet. I feel so glamorous!



2.) Bedroom furniture. Right now we are using the furniture from JB's boyhood bedroom, which really belongs in baby's room. We did get fabric to make a headboard and drapes, but I don't think we'll be able to swing getting new dressers. This hasn't really bothered me because I have my china cabinet and I shouldn't be too greedy.

3.) La-z-boy chair. A few years ago my parents gave me "the Big Blue Chair," which is the la-z-b0y that my Dad bought at least 16 years ago. He special ordered it to be BIG because he's a big man. It's called the Grand Canyon. It was actually big enough for one dad and one kid or wife to sit in. It was heavily used. One night Annie was sitting in the kitchen when she heard a loud CRASH! She ran into the living room to see mom and dad lying on the floor behind the chair, cracking up. The back finally broke on it and flipped them backwards out of it. However, my dad rigged it and it became the "trick chair" in JB's and my living room. Guests would sit in the chair, assuming that the back would stay in place, only to be launched backward in it.

I am almost obsessed with the wonderfulness of a rocking/reclining la-z-boy, so I insisted on a new one for me to rock Baby H in (Big Blue doesn't rock as nicely, and the fabric is tearing apart, it's dirty, it's broken). Of course, the leather model that we picked was really pricey. Eee! Today I called to get the exact price because JB and I were talking about getting it in August when he got his bonus check. I know--who spends that much on furniture?!? This is how deep my obsession went. "Oh, the Barnett?" the saleslady asks. "The cloth version is actually on clearance right now. And with an extra 10% off." What!!! Aaagghhh! So....we bought it. It is WONDERFUL. And it was a LOT more affordable--it actually cost the same that my dad paid for his back in the early 90's.

JB and his parents debated over putting Big Blue Chair on the curb or giving it to Salvation Army. I told them that I have to prepare myself emotionally to part with it before anything like that happens. I think that they found my silliness to be amusing, but I seriously place lots of sentimental value on things like this.

Here is JB (woah! A chair big enough for a 6'3" man!):

"This'll probably be the last time I ever sit in this chair, as April will take it over forever as soon as she sets that camera down."

Here is me. Me and baby gut:


It's not as wide as Big Blue, so JB and I can't share it, but there is just enough room for one parent and one little baby to rock.

The Lord is good.

Yardsale for the Cure

I traveled to Mayville to visit my family last weekend, and on Saturday us girls went down to Berkley to help my Aunt Carol with her neighborhood’s annual garage sale.

This year her sale was extra special because all the proceeds from her sale are going toward the fundraising for the "Susan G. Komen for the Cure" Breast Cancer Walk that she does each year (my aunt is a breast cancer survivor). This year her and my cousin are doing the walk together.

I had only been to the garage sale once before, and this year when I went around, I could tell that our sale was the best by FAR. All of our family brought in stuff to sell, as usual. There were MOUNTAINS of clothes in all sizes, and the clothes were nice quality—not ratty stuff that you usually find at a yard sale. We had furniture, jewelry, household, you name it.

My mother personally contributed one large “extended bed” pickup truck load and one carload to the sale. My cousin Bonnie asked Anne and I, “This was only a year’s worth of stuff? Where does she GET it all?!???” Good question, as my mother doesn’t shop anywhere except for Salvation Army and Victoria’s Secret (yes, weird combo). She’s not a shopper, but man, can she accrue stuff! (Okay, some of it is due to my sisters' castaway clothes, too.) My sister Annie and I had to remind our mom not to acquire any new treasures from the yard sales, as this is how it all starts. There is this large walkin closet at my mom’s house that used to be my brother’s bedroom and every year it becomes PACKED with stuff that she ends up bringing to the big yard sale.

So we had a little motto for my mom:

“Just say no to knick-knackery and pack-rattery!”

She kept repeating that mantra. She did a good job, as I don’t think she bought a single thing!

(However, my Granny, her mom, was another story. She is a true collector. Though we told her that anything she wanted was free, she insisted on paying, and purchased at least $60 in garage sale items. LOL. She shopped the sale the entire time, either selling things to shoppers or herself.)

People hit the sale in droves. It was crazy. At the end of the day, the sale had grossed over $750. My aunt said that was double what they’ve ever made in their sale, which she has been doing for probably 10 years. Yay!!!

If you want to help the fight against Breast Cancer, you can donate via my aunt’s page:

http://08.the3day.org/site/TR/Walk/MichiganEvent?px=1370442&pg=personal&fr_id=1185&s_tafId=6325

Birdman Extraordinaire

In September 2006, I posted this true Teague story on my blog.

“Do mom and dad still have that bird?” Smelly asks Anne.

“What bird? Levi stubbs (their finch)? Yeah.”

“No, that bird that Dad caught.”

“What are you talking about??”

Two weeks ago Smelly was visiting home. Dad tells her that a hummingbird had sat on his finger. “If you sit really really still they’ll land on it,” he says. He convinces her to stand next to the feeder and hold her hand out. When nothing happens, he dismisses her attempt with a wave.

“The colors you’re wearing are too bright for them. Too bright of pink.”

The next weekend, Mom, Dad, Smelly, Krystal, and Derek were sitting out on the back porch eating dinner. Their 75 acre old farmland spreads out behind them.

“I’ll bet you I can go out there and pet that bird (on the feeder),” says Dad. Everyone laughs. They don’t believe him. Dad stealthily walks out to the old bird feeder and sure enough, he pets the bird!

Everyone insists on trying it, too. So they each go out, one at a time.

Dad raises the stakes. “I bet ya I can get that bird to sit on my finger.”

More balking from his family.

He approaches the bird and sure enough, it sits on his finger!

Everyone insists on perching a bird on their finger, too. They each go out, one at a time

Dad is feeling confident. “You know what, I betcha I can capture that bird!”

“No, no!” “Whatever Dad!” “Yeah right!” No one believes him. Afterall, it’s a wild bird!

“We still have that old bird cage, don’t we Karen?” he asks.

Everyone continues to protest.

Mom brings out the birdcage. He gets the wild bird on his finger and starts walking with it. Everyone watches with baited breath. Then he grabs it with two hands. “Heh heh, I got you now!”

Into the cage the bird goes. “You’ve got to let him go!” they say.

Then they try to put a perch in there.

A few days later Anne asks Dad, “Do you still have that bird?”

“No, no, we let it out that night!”

“I don’t know what everybody was freaking out about,” says Dad.

“It could have been tamed!”

Last Christmas, my Dad made this grandiose claim:

“I can get a hummingbird to sit on my finger. How much money is in it for me?”

Of course, we do not believe him. The nature of the hummingbird is to NEVER stop fluttering its wings, eating, flying about. If there’s one wild bird that you cannot tame, it is the hummingbird for sure.

Today I received this photo from my mother:

Note to readers: Never make a bet with birdman!