About Carla

Apparently, I wrote this entry on December 13, 2004, and never published it. 

Carla was our next-door neighbor. Her parents, Ann and Gille, thought that we could benefit from spending time together.  Carla could learn English and I could learn french.  So I would walk across the street and collect her after school almost every afternoon and spend time with her until one of her parents came to claim her again.  We learned a few words from each other, but not many. Honestly, play is its own communication and few words are necessary. So that experiment was doomed to fail from the beginning. All we did was play. 

There is a word that I will always remember though.  Dégueulasse! Carla said it one day as she watched me make Hawaiin chicken for dinner. She declaimed it more than once actually... several times in fact. When her parents got home I asked them what it meant and they were deeply embarrassed that their child had been so rude to me. I thought it was hysterical. Mostly because, despite all her Frenchness, Carla was a typical 4 year old. Once they saw that I thought it was funny and was not at all upset, they had a good laugh over it too. They threatened to leave Carla for dinner. 

The French dictionary defines dégueulasse as disgusting, revolting, shitty, swinish, putrid... so you see...

Anyway, here's the post...

Carla walks down the sidewalk in the same self-absorbed way that all small children do. She walks down the middle of the sidewalk in the manner of a child who has not yet been informed that she, in fact, is not the center of the entire universe. She doesn't even watch where she's going while she scouts for interesting bits of flotsam to pick up and pocket, I steer her by palming the top of her head and turning it gently in the direction I want her to go. Eventually, though, I get tired of trying to avoid stepping on her heels and I nudge her to the inside edge of the sidewalk so I can walk next to her. 

She keeps up a constant stream of chatter and questions, which I can barely hear, let alone understand. It doesn't seem to matter, she doesn't require any actual input from me. If she does need an answer she'll look up at me when she speaks so I know that she is actually addressing me and needs a response.

Today, in an effort to just get her out of the house and away from the TV, I tricked her into exercising by making her walk to the bakery with me. Amazing what the promise of a sweet treat can do to motivate a 4-year-old.  I realize that part of her ceaseless chatter is a dialogue in which she's wondering out loud what she'll get.

When we arrive at the boulangerie Carla walks along looking into all the counters until she comes to the patisserie counter. She stands there carefully considering all of her options. I'm amazed at how self-assured she is, how confident in her world she is. She makes her choice and then looks to me. They hand her her meringue and I ask for my baguettes de rigueur and an éclair au café for my walk home treat.

The return trip is tastier and much quieter than the trip out though much slower, if that's possible. Carla turns up her sweet little face and with a mouth full of meringue says 'sank you, Missy'. I make a face at her and say 'Carla! Dégueulasse!' We both laugh so hard we're spewing crumbs onto the sidewalk. It only makes us laugh harder as we both try to say 'dégueulasse!' again to each other.

Clear As Day

I have been wanting a storm/screen door on the front door since we moved in and a screen door for the garage door.  For air in the summer and light in the winter. Plus they have deadbolts and offer an extra layer of security.

In Sycamore we had a storm door where you had to switch out the frame seasonally.  A full-sized screen for summer and a full-sized window for winter. It was a beautiful door but a pain in the butt to switch out and then store the unused frame.

In Camarillo, I wanted a storm door for the same reasons but we couldn't find storm doors in California.  We eventually found a 'screen' door that was heavier duty than a regular screen door. It was in fact a security door.  However, after installation, we realized that the 'screen' part was actually not a screen it was more of a metal grill, like a metal sheet with perforations. The door part was pretty, a treble clef pattern that swirled across in front of the screen. The door, unfortunately, let in neither light nor air because of that weird screen. I only bring this door up because Sean wanted to get one of those for the DeKalb house, but I had to kill that idea right off. No light and no air.

So after we looked and shopped around and made pro and con lists, (not really) we purchased two storm doors. One for the front and one for the garage. They are half and half. two glass panels. The upper one pulls down and as you pull it down and it drags down a roller screen. They are actually pretty cool. 

Sean spent the past two days installing the doors and they look amazing. So happy with them.

However, yesterday while I was out on the sidewalk admiring the new doors I realized something. I'm going to have to keep my front room much tidier. With that large open glass window right in the middle there, you can see all the way through to the back of the house. All the mess of books scattered everywhere and the dog hair accumulation on the floor and under the furniture and someone's clean laundry on the stairs waiting for some enterprising young person to actually carry it upstairs. 

So the moral of today's story is, be careful what you wish for you might get it.

Welcome to Monday's after school activities.

Shouts are coming from in front of the TV.

Cormac: 'KILL HIM!! Kill him! Kill him! Die dummy, die!'

Kai: 'No! I died! Avenge me! Hey! He's stealing my stuff, kill him!'

Cormac: 'What are you doing newb, you can't kill him with a stone ax! You need a diamond sword!'

But strangest of all...

Kai: 'Don't kill the chickens, I have to make 20 of them my friends...'

Just another game of Minecraft...

................................................

Honestly, the words coming from upstairs, that Aidric doesn't think I can hear are worse.  Aidric plays an on-line, multi-player game, among many others, called 'Escape from Tarkov'. The rallying cries to encourage his teammates to further violence and pillaging are a bit chilling and sometimes I swear he's swearing in Russian.

Today I'm in his room making sure his laundry has been actually put away (not stuffed under something where I won't see it and believe he's done as I asked). It has. 

'Hey mom, come here.' He asks me to sit in his very comfy 'gaming chair'.  I do and he slips his headphones over my ears, 'I want you to meet my friend 'Atwood' ' (Not his real name, changed to protect his other 'not real name')

'Atwood, say Hi to my mom.'

''Hello?' I say into a slightly stunned silence.

'Hello ma'am.?' A deep young voice, I'd place him in the 18-20 year range.

'Hi, how's it going.'

'Great thank you...       

Thanks for letting your son play with us. He's a great asset on our team. You should know, he is a very polite and well-mannered kid, you should be very proud of him'

'O  K, thanks. Not something you'd expect to hear or think was important during a bloody shooting game...'

'No, but he is.  You should hear some of the other mouth breathers on here. No one ever bothered to teach them about manners and decency.'

'You'd think that sort of behavior would put you at a disadvantage... manners and decency I mean.'

'No, people notice and want to play with him. They know he's got their backs.'

'Good to hear, thank you...'

One of the strangest conversations I've ever had with a teenager.

................................................

Carrington shouts 'Mimi, watch this!'

'RUM ROLL PLEASE!!'

Rhythmic slapping on the coffee table. Then suddenly, Squirtle the stuffed turtle goes flying into the air with here-to-fore unknown grace and agility. Flipping and cartwheeling through empty air for all he's worth, then landing softly and incredibly feet down on a couch pillow a few feet away!

THE   CROWD    GOES    WILD!

...  'I think you mean DRUM roll'

...serious drinking going on...

 

...late summer sunset...

 

Nobody better lay a finger on my Baby Ruth bar

I keep a very well-stocked pantry. I always have, this is not a new thing since Covid. I'm very anal about this (and many other things...) so I always make sure that there is at least one extra of everything, but usually 2 extra of everything.  All organized and on shelf risers so that everything is visible. Honestly, the only thing missing is an inventory list on a clipboard hanging from a hook on the wall, but nevermind. I said I was anal, not crazy.

In this pantry, on a low shelf, there are clear plastic bins with snack items for the children. Chewy Bars, Z-bars, fruit snacks, packages of mixed nuts, Pop-Tarts, Go-go squeezes in various flavors, fruit roll-ups, and popcorn. Often there are other items as snacking whims change. My children and grandchildren are very well acquainted with this area off the kitchen. My grandchildren hit it first thing in the door. They are always in there eating something and I try to keep up with their locust-like appetites.

But! There is another cupboard, a HIGH cupboard, a secret cupboard of grown-up snacks! In said secret cupboard there are Fig Newtons and chocolate-covered biscuits and some french butter cookies and bits of chocolate or chocolate bars, individually wrapped brownies or pastries. In other words, MY snacks. Mine, mine, all mine!!!

Well, someone did not get the memo! The other day I walk into the kitchen to see my son leaning back against a counter, staring at his phone, headphones in his ears, snack midway to his mouth. He was eating one of MY chocolate bars!

'Where did you get that!!' I practically scream at him. He turns and points at 'The SECRET cupboard'.

'Right there.' he says in puzzlement. 'Why?'

Why?! WHY?!

'No reasons'. I say as I try to think of a new SECRET cupboard. The cretins have gotten taller than me!!

Goodbye Facebook

It turns out that Blogger is still available to me and as much as I loved the 'social' aspect of social media, I really enjoyed sharing my nonsense stories.  

So find me here from time to time and I'll share with you the mundane and the ridiculous.  We'll see how this works, you can comment here I think to share news of a personal nature. I would love to hear your stories, of your life, too.