*Warning - there is NO cussing in this post.*
I am NOT a morning person. Not, not, not!!!
A perfect day for me is to sleep until I wake up (usually 9 - 9:30 am) assuming I go to bed at 11 pm or midnight. I like to wake up on my own - no alarm clock, no one telling me they are hungry, no phone ringing, etc. Even though that doesn't happen a lot, that is my preference, and I don't care who knows it.
The early morning drive to school is not my favorite duty. Many mornings, when the alarm goes off, I think mean thoughts (cuss words or just a general pissed off feeling). Lately, though, I have tried to break myself of the cussing (even if it's quietly in my head), but I still think "that can't be the alarm" every time the alarm goes off.
Some mornings, I'm on the road - about 7 minutes away from the school, and I suddenly realize that I am 1) awake, 2) in the car, driving, and 3) in disbelief that I am awake, out of bed, and in the car driving. Think about that for a minute.
Last week, as we pulled out of the driveway, I remarked "pink sky in morning." And Abbie finished the phrase with "sailors warning." That made me smile. I told her how my dad always recited that phrase to me every time he saw a pink sky.
My dad was my school driver, and he and I had a good time together. Everytime there was fog, he would say, "It's froggy. Someone must have let a frog out." He taught me several little catchy phrases. I continue the tradition with Abbie.
Even though I hate being out of bed so early on school mornings, I enjoy the scenery and conversations with Abbie. I smile when I think of my early school mornings with my dad.
Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dad. Show all posts
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Being In The Country
Today, Abbie and I went to my dad's house for my biweekly cleaning-fest. We got out of the car, and I had the trunk and various car doors open so that I could unload the supplies that I had brought.
As I busily looped bags onto my arms, Abbie said, "It's so quiet here in the country."
I stopped what I was doing and listened. And heard....mostly nothing.
I'm glad Abbie noticed and shared her thoughts with me. It was a nice kind of quiet.
As I busily looped bags onto my arms, Abbie said, "It's so quiet here in the country."
I stopped what I was doing and listened. And heard....mostly nothing.
I'm glad Abbie noticed and shared her thoughts with me. It was a nice kind of quiet.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
My Dad Says, Part 1
I spoke to my dad today. About how he used to be a tight wad. About how he has worked hard to get what little he has in his savings account. About how he should NOT be loaning money to people who are his so-called friends. He'll never see that money again.
He said, "You know what the worst part of getting old is?"
I guessed, "Becoming too tender hearted?" This is why he loans the money in the first place.
He said, "The worst part of getting old is getting old!"
Awwww, my poor dad.
I'm glad I'm able to help him and look out for him. If he'll just listen to me about the loaning money part.....
He said, "You know what the worst part of getting old is?"
I guessed, "Becoming too tender hearted?" This is why he loans the money in the first place.
He said, "The worst part of getting old is getting old!"
Awwww, my poor dad.
I'm glad I'm able to help him and look out for him. If he'll just listen to me about the loaning money part.....
Friday, May 16, 2008
Medicine
I'm probably prejudiced, but I think medications are great! Used as directed and under supervision of a doctor, they provide many benefits to people who need them. But I'm no expert. Not in the least.
But the reason for my post today is that I have recently seen a dramatic change in my dad. Here's the history: once he took early retirement, my dad spent all his time just sitting around, doing nothing except sleeping or watching t.v. He used to work outside a lot: gardening, piddling around. He also cooked a lot. I have many nice memories of my dad either in the kitchen cooking and whistling or outside (usually without a shirt) gardening and whistling. For about six years now, since his early retirement, he's done none of that. I clean his house and pay his bills because he won't. His personal grooming and hygiene has also gone down the tubes.
My dad doesn't have many health problems, but he does take 3-4 medications on a regular basis. I won't list them here, but one medication that he's taken for most of his adult life is valium. This is many people's "nerve pill" of choice. I don't have anything against that. Although it's just a bandaid, it helps people, and I have many relatives who take it.
He recently decided to stop taking valium (I'm not sure of his reasons), but it has made a dramatic difference. My dad has taken a new interest in his old hobbies. He's planted tomatoes, peppers, okra, and eggplant. He's doing his laundry. His handwriting is not as shaky and he seems more clear eyed and clear headed. He's driving and getting out of the house more. He had a chicken coop built, and he's going to start raising chickens again. Paul says that stopping this medication can make him feel better (mainly, I think this medicine was not needed due to some of the other meds my dad takes). When I pointed this out to dad, he said all he used to want to do was to sit around, but he didn't know that this particular medication was the cause. I didn't either (although I suspected, but I could never get him to listen to me). I feel bad about all of dad's wasted years sitting around the house, but I'm really happy that he's back to his old self.
I honestly thought my dad would never change - that his "sitting around all the time" existence would always be the same. But he's proven me wrong before, and he's done it again. It just goes to show that you can't give up. Sometimes making one change can alter your path. My dad will be 68 this summer.
But the reason for my post today is that I have recently seen a dramatic change in my dad. Here's the history: once he took early retirement, my dad spent all his time just sitting around, doing nothing except sleeping or watching t.v. He used to work outside a lot: gardening, piddling around. He also cooked a lot. I have many nice memories of my dad either in the kitchen cooking and whistling or outside (usually without a shirt) gardening and whistling. For about six years now, since his early retirement, he's done none of that. I clean his house and pay his bills because he won't. His personal grooming and hygiene has also gone down the tubes.
My dad doesn't have many health problems, but he does take 3-4 medications on a regular basis. I won't list them here, but one medication that he's taken for most of his adult life is valium. This is many people's "nerve pill" of choice. I don't have anything against that. Although it's just a bandaid, it helps people, and I have many relatives who take it.
He recently decided to stop taking valium (I'm not sure of his reasons), but it has made a dramatic difference. My dad has taken a new interest in his old hobbies. He's planted tomatoes, peppers, okra, and eggplant. He's doing his laundry. His handwriting is not as shaky and he seems more clear eyed and clear headed. He's driving and getting out of the house more. He had a chicken coop built, and he's going to start raising chickens again. Paul says that stopping this medication can make him feel better (mainly, I think this medicine was not needed due to some of the other meds my dad takes). When I pointed this out to dad, he said all he used to want to do was to sit around, but he didn't know that this particular medication was the cause. I didn't either (although I suspected, but I could never get him to listen to me). I feel bad about all of dad's wasted years sitting around the house, but I'm really happy that he's back to his old self.
I honestly thought my dad would never change - that his "sitting around all the time" existence would always be the same. But he's proven me wrong before, and he's done it again. It just goes to show that you can't give up. Sometimes making one change can alter your path. My dad will be 68 this summer.
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