Today and Tomorrow
......in that order


Now that the snow has melted , it is safe for Grandma J to roam freely thoughout the town.   It's amazing how far behind a person can get when they are home bound for a couple of days....unexpectedly.

High on the list was a trip to the post office to get my way overdue mailing out......watch your mailboxes for them if you emailed me your address.

Jack was working....you remember him, don't you?   He still had his manboobs doesn't have his ponytail anymore........but he's thinkin of growing it back.

 But he did show Grandma J his newest tattoos.  Grandma J wonders if he can still get a suntan, and if he can, do the flames around the juke box turn purple?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tomorrow is Friday, and yes, Grandma J is going to a matinee.

She's gonna see Cop Out with Bruce ::heartthrob::  Willis and Tracy Morgan.   It's an R rated adult comedy which means it's probably sleazy like Hangover......and right up Grandma J's alley.

review to follow.

Over The River, and Through The Woods

Well OK, I went over the river...but there aren't any woods to go through, but there is a scenic route to the adorable, quaint little town of Salado, Texas. You actually go over a river, called the Little River, and a reservoir called Stillhouse Hollow Lake.

I really need to go to Salado more often, and definitely when the weather is more suitable to walking around town. But for today, I have two birthdays next Sunday, and I decided to look for something different and unique...so it was off to Salado.




You can click on this picture to see the kids cooling off in the Salado Creek, from the natural Salado Springs.




I love this fence made out of bicycles. It's along a bike trail that runs through town and around the park.

I did bet some shopping done, and wandered around a few antique shops, but the heat!! Seriously, there's only so much walking you can do in hot humid weather, so it was adios for today.

My last stop was the post office to mail the birthday packages.




You guys remember Jack, right? He thinks Grandma J is nuts, and I wouldn't want to ruin his day by telling him the real reason I take his picture. Do you think all of his tattoos are on his arms?

A Grandma J Tale

Once upon a time, about a year ago, Grandma J took a large parcel to the local post office. There was a disgruntled patron named Tom. It seems Tom was unhappy with the service he was receiving twice a day....and he wanted everyone to know it. Do you remember?

When Jack, the postal clerk laughed at Tom, Tom got angry at Jack....but Jack just laughed some more. Then Tom made sure his protest sign was aimed directly at the surveillance camera ...that's when Grandma J took a picture. Remember?

OK, no need to rehash that whole incident, you can go back and read it here later because it has nothing to do with today's tale. What Grandma J really wanted to tell you today, is that she mailed the book, The MIDDLE PLACE to Noe Noe Girl...Tall Tales from a Short Chick. Yeah, that's what she wanted to tell you. Well, and there's more to the story. You knew that, yes, you did.


So, pulling into the parking lot was a surprisingly pleasant experience, because here in Texas, just getting out of the Compound the Post Office is the place to be.

Today, the place was like a morgue! Seriously, no one was there but me, Jack, and another postal clerk. This is rare folks, because usually there is a line out the door and just one postal clerk.



Jack is always flirting talking to Grandma J, but it's always such a rush rush situation...except for today. He let me take his picture again, and he was grinning ear to ear. And don't you know? Grandma J was grinning too. Then I noticed something new on his arm.....do you see it?



Now isn't that special? Who wudda thought?



Then Grandma J asked Jack to turn around so she could show you, all her blogger friends that he cut his three foot long ponytail off.

JJ was in the car the whole time staring in at Grandma J. She took him the long way home as an extra treat.


It's always a sad time driving away with JJ staring out the window. If you can't see JJ's sad face, click on the picture....see?

Oh yeah, and Noe Noe Girl, your book is on it's way.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME....almost

On March 16th, I put my very first blog entry on the Internet. Up until then, I was happy being a commenter on other blogs. A few people kept bugging me....saying things like, "hey get your own blog", and "quit hogging everyone's bandwidth with your silly off topic comments". So I eventually got the hint and jumped in.....

Remember when I looked like this?

Four of those blogs were my commenters that first day in the history of Grandma J. Heartshapedhedges, is my daughter and her blog sprung forth from her son's Caringbridge site (yeah leukemia survivor!). LMNOP, is another blogger crossover from Caringbridge, (whose daughter is also a leukemia survivor). Then The Cortney Chronicles is a follower of HSH and LMNOP, and My Training Adventures, a wonderful marathon fundraising woman who I met through her support of several Caringbridge sites.

So there you have it...my first four commenters. The amazing thing is, after reading that pitiful first post, all four still come back a year later. So thank you....to those first four, and the other two rest of you who check in on a regular basis to see if I'd been committed kicked the bucket, or to be more politically correct, dove into the deep end.

Over the last year, I have posted 380 entries, with 64,879 visitors. Ok, I know, there was that day back in July when I have over 15,000 hits! All because Michael K from dlisted put a link to my Shamwow testimonial on his site. Just because of that I'm now engaged to best buds with Nick, who lives somewhere in the Heart of Dixie in Charleston....with his new puppy. I've also become good friends with Hollywood, who really lives in Albuquerque. Ummm, where's that blog of yours Hollywood?

Now, here's the exciting part that includes all of you. Yes even you, and you too. Over the past year, I've reviewed several movies, given testimonials on a plethora of products. God, thank you for the word plethora, I love it more than you know.

I've keep you abreast of current events...like the Yearning For Zion dilemma here in Texas, and the tragic toilet malfunction on NASA's space station. I've talked about my grandchildren and JJ til I'm blue in the face....with much more to tell you! You know all about my Uncle Jack, and the escapades of my Mother, Rita. I've discussed personal stuff like my sex life colon, pinkie finger, and mustache.

Several times over this past year I have honored our Service Men and Women...specifically my son-in-law, 1SGT John, who is currently serving his third tour of duty in Iraq.

I took a road trip to visit Cortney and Briana here in Texas, and I met up with Jason, Pumpkin Delight, and Hula Hank in Los Angeles. I'm trekking to Virginia in July to partake in the Virginia Blogfest hosted by Big Hair Envy, and Chesapeake Bay Woman.

With all of this in mind, I want you to tell me which post you liked the best. I know, they all kind of blur together. But seriously, I have to know....so take a minute to jog your memory or look in the archives. I'll make it worth your while with a contest/drawing.


That's right, a $50 gift card from Bed Bath and Beyond. the winner will be picked by a random picker thing on March 16th....the anniversary of the day everyone's Grandma J's world changed....forever.

How Bad Can It Be?

I'm talking about the economy. I waited until six this evening to go to Jack In The Box to get my free tacos. Of course, I printed out a coupon for my granddaughter too, so I had to go pick her up...cruising past Jack's on the way. I tried to see if there was a long line, but with the remnants of rush hour still hanging around...it was hard to tell.

When we circled around back to get in line...there was only one car in front of me!

We checked out the menu for additional items because it wasn't just about me and my free tacos.

We drove up to the window and supervised the process as our order was filled.

When I gave the cashier my coupons he said I was the only person to bring coupons for free tacos all day! Did you get your tacos? Was there a line?

Then we went home to enjoy. Some Mardi Gras celebration!

ANCESTRY ARCHIVES...
.....the dominant gene

This is Saturday, and my day is chock full of plenty of nothing. But plenty of nothing includes plenty of someone.....someone being JJ.

So, I want to leave you with just a bit more insight into my gene pool....


Do you remember The Baron? My sweet Uncle Jack?



Well, let me introduce you to his brother. His older brother, Ed...sitting on a jackass in Tijuana, Mexico. Not just any jackass...a jackass with purple stripes. Oh, one more Family Fact.......Uncle Ed is Grandma J's Godfather.

THE BARON, PART IV

Jack had an air about him that gave strangers the feeling that he must be someone important. He was very well mannered, well groomed and his aloofness made people basically give him the royal treatment.

He didn't have the typical physical appearance that some retarded people have. It usually took strangers quite a while to recognize the fact that Jack was mentally challenged because he was good at role playing. The fact that his parents were never ashamed of him, and never hid him away when he was growing up says a lot about their determination to make Jack fit in. Typically, retarded people are very good at mimicking behavior and in Jack's case, he had an extensive vocabulary that fooled people into thinking he was very worldly. My grandparents traveled extensively in their later years, and Jack went with them to numerous countries and cultures.

We were all amazed at the royal treatment Jack received in public. The stories were numerous. I have taken Jack to fancy restaurants, and let him give the hostess his name for the waiting list, only to have her seat us right away...practically bowing to Jack! I would ask him what he said to get to the top of the list and he never had an answer.

So, that's just a bit more insight into the man I always called The Baron. The man who wanted to marry me. The man who told everyone I was is favorite....and no bribe in the world could make him change his mind. It was for no other reason than the fact that I was silly. Jack loved silly. Jack used to say I made him hi.steer.a.cal. I was also someone who loved having Jack around. Even when he wouldn't lend me $2 for gas, telling me "if you run out of gas, you'll learn your lesson". I loved making time for him and taking him places like zoos, the beach, and there was always that banana split or any ice cream to win him over.

Now I have a cute story....one that I've hinted about. Jack going to confession. Jack went to confession all the time. He was raised strict in the Catholic faith, and my grandparents used this as a tool in handling Jack, keeping him in check. Don't get me wrong, my grandparents were very strong in their faith, and Jack followed suit...in the tradition of mimicking as well as a basic understanding of Christianity.

Their parish priest knew Jack, and in keeping with my grandmother's wishes, always reminded Jack of the ten commandments, specifically Honor Thy Father and Thy Mother.
The priest would ask Jack, if he was good to his mother at the close of each visit to the confessional.

On the weekends that Jack would spend with me and my family, I would take him to confession with me. I would make sure I went in before Jack so I could explain the situation to the priest. I mean I didn't want the priest to take anything Jack said the wrong way....and of course we never knew what the heck Jack said when he went to confession...so a heads up to the priest was in order.

This one particular Saturday, I go into the confessional, and before leaving give the priest the lowdown on Jack. I open the curtain to come out, and a strange man enters the confessional....Jack is no where in sight! I quickly went looking for Jack and found him exiting the restroom. I told him the priest was feeling ill, and said Jack could just say The Act of Contrition on his own, that was fine. We high tailed out of there.

Seriously? Did I want to be there when that man came out of the confessional? I'm wondering what the man thought about the priest asking him if he was good to his mother.

The Baron, Part III



As Etta got older, Jack liked getting away from home more and more. It was a mixed bag because he worried about his mother, but on the other hand, neither one of them drove, and Etta didn’t have the same appetite for recreational activities as she used to. Jack was very high energy, and let’s face it, Etta had her circle of friends in the condo complex, and her daughter Ruth close by (Rita and Jacks’ sister), but there wasn’t much in the way of activities for Jack.

I lived by the beach, as did Rita and my siblings, so there were a host of people to entertain Jack and places to take him out and about……Mr. High Society.

Jack came down to the beach one particular weekend in October. We had just learned that my paternal grandmother Margaret, had geriatric leukemia. She was in the hospital getting transfusions. From what I remember that was basically the way that type of leukemia was treated. She never got chemotherapy, just transfusions every few months, and lived a pretty normal life for about 3 more years, dying at 93.

Jack always referred to my paternal grandparents as Mr. & Mrs. ___, and loved them to death. They loved him too, and used to invite Jack to their farm in Massachusetts when they were younger. I told Jack, that we could go see my grandfather, Joseph, after dinner and visit for a while. Remember, Jack loves to socialize. It doesn’t matter what the circumstances are.

It was a Friday night, Jack helped me make dinner, and one of his favorite things in the whole wide world was coffee…real coffee….with caffeine. And if he could sit around and chit chat with a bunch of women, all the better. Etta didn’t drink coffee so Jack had one cup of instant decaf every morning. That was it. But, when Jack came to my house, he knew we had the real deal.

That evening we had a serious issue. Do you remember the old perculators? And do you remember the Maxwell House commercial that showed the glass knob on top, and the music would go “blup blup blub” as the coffee bubbled up(with rhythm of course)? Jack loved it, and because I loved Jack, I usually used my Corning ware perculator just for him. God how he loved watching that coffee perk! Oh, and it was caffeinated coffee….Etta be damned!

Did you notice I said “I usually use my Corning ware perculator”? That’s because that particular night I couldn’t find the glass knob that fits in the lid. I made the coffee in my Mr. Coffeemaker instead. Jack was ok with that, but asked if we could go to Sav-On’s after visiting my grandfather, and see if they have the replacement part.
I said yes, if he promised to say “no thank you” to any offers of refreshments from my grandfather, we could stop and pick up a Marie Calendar pie to take home, and have with some freshly perked coffee. I didn’t want my grandfather waiting on us. We weren’t staying long, but I knew he’d offer, and Jack is not above jumping at the chance to have a little snack….even though we just had dinner.

Everything was settled. My husband gave the four kids their baths and got them ready for bed while Jack and I went over my Grandfather’s house.

As we were walking up the sidewalk, Jack said “Poor Mrs. _____”.

I said, “I know, Jack, but let’s not talk about it in front of Mr._____ because he’s not taking it well.”

As I rang the door bell, you won’t believe what Jack said! He looks at me and said. “I wonder if he knows she’s a goner?”

We didn’t stay long, thank God! Joseph was doing OK. He talked to Margaret on the phone, and she was in good spirits. All was well.

I was proud of Jack keeping his zipper shut and not saying anything to upset Joseph. He wouldn’t intentionally hurt him, it’s just that Jack thrived on that kind of thing, and loved to talk about sickness, funerals, and hospitals.

As a side note, we had a code that we used to get Jack to put a plug in it, or zip it. We would look at him and say, “ PRESSURE COOKER”. Use your imagination….and I won’t have to tell you about the time Jack was at Rita’s and Rita was cooking corned beef in her pressure cooker, and that there was a malfunction, and the lid to the pressure cooker ended up stuck in the ceiling. Nope, I can’t tell you that story. Because Jack’s already told the whole world. And when it’s time to shut up…we remind him by saying PRESSURE COOKER.

We went to Sav-On’s and got a glass knob for the perculator, and then we stopped off at Marie Calendars and got a nice French Apple pie.

When we got home, the kids are all upstairs in bed. My husband was asleep on the couch with the TV on. I started to make the coffee, and Jack asked me if he should wake up my husband, who for the sake of this story is named Fred. I told Jack to let Fred sleep until the coffee was done. Well, Jack wasn’t very patient….he paced back and forth between the kitchen and the family room. Finally, I told him he could wake Fred up.

The next thing I heard was Fred scream….he came staggering into the kitchen in a haze. I asked him ”what happened?”

He said Jack put his face right up against his, and whispered, “Freddie, Freddie” and as he started to open his eyes, Jack yelled ”PIE!”

Tomorrow is Vintage Thingy Thursday. Stop by and see one more of my prize possessions. If you ask me if you can have it when I die, you get nothing. Just saying.

The Baron, Part II

Jack always lived with his parents, Bill and Etta. My grandfather, Bill, passed away in the late 60’s and Jack officially became the man of the house. Etta ruled with a firm hand….she had to. Be that as it may, Jack adored his mother. He had this 11 x 14 picture of Etta, circa early 50’s, hanging in his bedroom. My replica is 3 x 5.

On occasion someone in the family would insist that Jack wouldn’t even know the picture of Etta was missing if someone took it down. Do not even go there! If truth be told, and we could peek in on Jack as he knelt for his bedtime prayers…..he would be in front of a crucifix and that picture of Etta.

I went to visit Jack and my grandmother one day in the early 80’s. Etta was ninety something, and was in the process of laying a brick sidewalk. Jack had just had some medical procedure the week before… which put him in his glory. By glory, I mean he loved that kind of stuff, it gave Jack something fresh to talk about. He had a memory for details. In this particular instance it was medical terminology. He loved throwing around medical terms. It gave him a whole new topic to talk someone’s ear off over.

After some chit chat with my grandmother, she asked me if I wanted to go with Jack to Thrifty Drugs store, across the street to pick up a few prescriptions. Jack often went alone, and everyone knew him. They also knew about him. Etta laid down the rules…don’t encourage his silliness, and discouraged them from giving him any ammunition to go on and on about. It had nothing to do with squelching Jack’s social life, but it was to protect him from any public ridicule, and protect the kind clerks from the never-ending ramblings that Jack was famous for.

Jack and I were heading out the door, with Etta firmly reminding both of us to behave. She poked me with her cane, that had a range of ten feet, and let me know we were to stay out of the toiletries aisle, and no ice cream. Jack had high blood pressure and the poor guy didn’t get special treats very often. Etta knew I was a sneak….just like Rita, and she didn't trust either of us. She knew we had a soft spot for Jack.

Off we go, across the street. Entering Thrifty’s with Jack was like being on the red carpet with a rock star.

‘Hi Jack”…….the clerks would call out.

“Hey Jack, whats up”?

We head towards the pharmacy, all the while Jack is very aloof and courteous…not stopping, but nodding, kind of like royalty, like a baron. He was on a mission. He was about to have a one-on-one with the pharmacist.

The pharmacist goes over everything with Jack, then looks at me and says, “He may need a stool softener”.

BINGO! One of Jack’s favorite topics……poop, gas, movements, enemas, laxatives, stools. It takes a whole lot of talking, but I convince Jack that his mother has plenty of stool softeners already. If not we will come back. I mean really, a 90 year old woman without stool softeners? Besides, if we take time to check out the stool softeners, we won’t have time to check out the after shaves, and colognes. Maybe if we hurry, we can also get a single scoop ice cream. Those were magic words that Jack loved to hear.

We buy an ice cream cone first, and then go check out the fufu smelling stuff. It’s a time saving thing. Jack likes to milk his ice cream for as long as possible. We smell every cologne in the store, careful not to spray any on us, because Etta will have a fit. It’s not like she trusts me, and she will look for evidence. Jack still has the last of his cone to eat, and I tell him to throw it in his mouth because we have to get back before Etta suspects something. I check out his face, and wipe any trace of ice cream……everything’s kosher!

Jack is happy as a lark as we start back across the street. Etta asks Jack if the pharmacy was “busy”, he says, “not too bad”. He then goes on to tell her about the pharmacists concerns, and that he needs stool softeners. Etta, who’s been putting two and two together, and Etta who probably called the pharmacy, looked at Jack and asked him if he had an ice cream cone. Jack said no. Etta dropped the subject, and asked me if I’d help get lunch out while Jack set the table. Thank you, Baby Jesus…..we dodged the bullet!

We sit down to lunch, and yakked about nothing in particular.....we usually get around to silly talk. Jack loves it, and I encourage it. I get a thrill out of Jack naming all the puppies his childhood dog Trixie had...all three litters. That's the kind of stuff that gets us all laughing, really laughing!

All of a sudden Etta looks at Jack and asks, “Jack what’s that on your tongue?”
Jack goes……"AHHHHHHH" to reveal A huge piece of cone on his tongue…

Ice Cream Cone!

BUSTED!

Next: Jack scares the bee geesus out of a grown man...

The Baron

That’s what we called my Uncle Jack. Jack was born in 1922, and he was Rita’s younger brother.

Jack was mentally retarded. I realize in today’s world of political correctness, some people are offended by that term. The reality is, that’s the correct term, a term our family understood and never saw as inflammatory. Nor were we ashamed of it just as we weren’t ashamed of Jack…God forbid! Now, I find it unacceptable to call someone a retard.

We all loved Jack; we all knew from the day we were born, that Jack was special. Special meant, he was a flashy dresser, he always smelled like Aqua Velva, Old Spice, Brut or Hai Karate, he always got to sit in the front seat and he could say the rosary in six minutes flat!

Before I get to the meat of this post….no, we aren’t there yet, which will be one of many posts that will convince you that Jack and Rita fell from the same tree. I want to give a little background about Jack and the way things were in the 1920s. Jack was raised by strict but loving parents in a large Irish Catholic family. Young preschool Jack was very active, and quite the handful for my grandmother, Henrietta. Like the time he got stuck under the stove. Or the time he was riding on the back of the Ice Truck naked as a jaybird.

Call it denial, or just unaware, but Jack was sent to regular public school for kindergarten. That was the beginning and end of his public schooling. The professionals tried to convince my grandparents that Jack belonged in a “State School” as in institution. My grandparents bravely keep Jack at home. He did go to a special school, but I think most of what he learned was from his family. This decision wasn’t a popular one at that time. Rita told about friends not being allowed to come over to their house because of Jack, and she wasn’t invited to their homes either.

The Baron: Part I
or “gee your dad seems awfully nice….”

Jack, who was fortyish, was staying for the weekend. He loved his sister Rita; she wasn’t as strict as his mother Henrietta, who, for future reference will be known as Etta. Rita didn’t care if he was silly. It was a trade off because no one could simonize your car like Jack, or clean your windows like Jack. Now don’t get me wrong, no one took advantage of Jack’s talents. He prided himself as a perfectionist, and that he was. He was also in demand, and he went with the highest bid. It didn’t have to be money. Maybe it was a trip to Baskin Robbins, or Bob’s, Home of the Big Boy. Or some pie from Marie Calendars. There were times Jack had a better offer from Shirl the girl in Palm Springs, and he would "cancel" on Rita, it was just too bad. But mostly he loved working, and he took pride in everything he did. It also made him feel important.

I was a junior in high school, and just starting to date. My parents set a very early curfew, which disappeared entirely when my younger sisters started dating….I think my parents ran out of energy by then, and also knew it was futile.

I had a date with a boy from a boy’s Catholic high school that I had met through a classmate of his. A cute boy and I was both nervous and excited. My father was out of town on business, and my mother decided I could stay out later than usual.

Now my siblings were in the family room watching TV, Rita was across the street visiting with the neighbor, and Jack….Jack was sitting in the living room where he could listen to his Tommy Dorsey albums and stare out the living room window that looked directly at the neighbor’s living room window where Rita was. That leaves me. I was getting ready for my date.

I didn’t hear the doorbell, but as I started down the hall towards the living room I heard Jack talking up a storm. Low and behold Jack was deep in conversation with my date. About car stuff. Jack had a memory like no one on the planet. He knew every model car that was ever made, and every detail about them. He asked my date how often he simonized his car, and what he used blah blah….Of course the conversation was pretty much one-sided, as my date sat there desperately waiting to be rescued.

I quickly gave Jack a peck on the check and we said good-bye. With authority in his voice he said “OK, you guys have fun, and don’t keep her out too late.” major eye roll here...We headed out to dinner then to a party with some friends. My date seemed a bit distant and deep in thought all night. When he took me home he said....

“Gee your dad seemed awfully nice. Is your whole family that interesting?”

Next: Etta asks the all important question, “Jack, what's that on your tongue”?