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.

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.