Hello Darklings,
Yes it's Father's Day, many of us were lucky to have great, or good or decent Dad's, and there were some not so lucky. For those of you this day is just like any other but for those who were fortunate to have wonderful Father's, depending upon age, it's a time for either celebrating or remembering.
This morning Sis and I went to the cemetery to put flowers on Mom and Dad's grave, we even threw in some of those 4th of July decorations, Just to say "Hi Dad". Doyle was on his cell phone getting phone calls from his children and making arrangements to go down to San Diego to visit them next month.
Sis called her ex-husband check in with him to say "Hi" he was visiting the kids and is doing well.
Later we went to my brother's for Bar-B-Que, and I'm posting from his computer, as he is doing the final touches of making burnt offerings to the Propane Gods.
It's the first really Big celebration in their new home, and they are proud of it, it still has some work to be done but all in all in good shape.
As we sit around we remember things our Dad did, espeically about the time when we were in this parking lot and some drunk nearly clipped Mom and she got so mad she slammed her umbrella on his car. Oh he was a big brusier. But Dad was gallant, he just picked up Mom, threw her over his shoulder and carried her to the car, while she was yelling unflattering discriptions to the man.
I'll never forget Dad's remark "Toots, don't start something I can't finish!" I'm not saying Dad was a coward, he wasn't, but sometimes discretion is the better part of valor. And beside us children were with them. But Mom was like a bantam rooster with its feathers fluffed up.
We laughed about it for days.
So Darklings, if you are lucky to have had a great Dad or a positive male role model, raise a glass to their memory, and be thankful.
Later Darklings.
Showing posts with label Father's Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Father's Day. Show all posts
Sunday, June 21, 2015
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Of Father's Day thoughts~~~~~
Hello Darklings,
I'm sitting here thinking, typing, feeling a little tired and a little sad.
It's Father's Day.
I was up early to wish Doyle good by as he took the cab to the airport he said don't bother to come, just to sleep in and rest, I wasn't feeling too well yesterday, upset stomach that had be bending over and worshiping the "Porcelain God". What caused it to be upset haven't a clue.
I feel better today, so it must have been a 24 hour bug, but I'm staying home tomorrow. Doyle called me later in the day to say he arrived safely at his children's home, in time for their Father's Day celebration. San Diego is only a short flight away, at least its not across country.
Sis came over to see how I was doing, and made a poached egg on toast for me, and took care of the dogs.
But it's Father's Day, Sis asked why I was so sad, I said that it could be a combination of stomach upset and feeling out of sorts. She nodded her head, "Dad?" she said and I said yes.
Even in old age Dad was a tall man, he walked like he was still in the military, his suits for work just so, shirts just so, he'd take them to the dry cleaners and pick them up, Mom would wash and dry the shirts but Dad would press them. Not that Mom couldn't or wouldn't, Dad said "Your Mother has enough on her hands without me being picky about how I want them ironed, I can at least help her out that way." Which was true, he even ironed our brother's shirts and our blouses and skirts when we were little, when we got older we did our own, even our brother's did their own.
He always insisted on buying a car he could fix or at least take care of a lot of the simple things, like changing the oil, adding fluid to the radiator, checking the tires, changing the air filter. But more complicated things like changing spark plugs, replacing the muffler, tuning the car he'd leave it to an expert, but he made sure about things.
Most of the simpler repairs around the house he'd do, he refused to have Mom get on a step ladder to change a light bulb, but if it was something that took more than his expertise, he'd say call the expert in.
He even figured out how to change the tubes in the old black and white RCA T.V., we had that for years and years until the picture tube blew---that was exciting because, it was near some curtains and the curtains caught fire, we were screaming but Dad just grabbed the curtains and pulled them down, while Mom grabbed a pot of water, the rug got wet, Dad's shirt got singed, his hand got burned, the T.V. was dead, Dad and my brother put it outside just in case, and the living room had to be repainted.
Mom called the Doctor about Dad's hand but it was just red and a couple of blisters, the Doctor did a house call, treated him and told him to come to his office the next day. It healed but he said everyone a work kept asking him what happened to his hand.
Our next T.V. was color, and what a shock that was. But Dad kept the cabinet from the old T.V. "The wood is good" he said and made it into a sewing cabinet for Mom to keep her sewing stuff and patterns in. I have that now, it holds CD's.
He always wore a hat, a Fedora, he had several of them, Sunday Best, two go to work hats, Saturday casual hat and the work on the car or work in the garden hat. I have one of his hats hanging on the Hall Tree as if he just came home. Sis has the other one.
He'd take us fishing at the pier, fix our bikes, he and Uncle Manny built a doll house for Sis and I, Sis has it now with all the furniture.
He'd take us to the park push us on the swings, made sure we were safe on the titter-totter and no bully's would pick on us. Take the boys to the ball games, we'd go to the zoo, and on Saturday when the ice cream man came give us our dimes and watch us while we made our selection. He'd always buy a Fudgesicle for himself and a Orange Creamsicle for Mom.
He taught us kids how to dance, waltz, fox trot, swing, we taught him the Twist, but when "Anniversary Waltz" came on the radio or was played on the phonograph he and Mom always waltz to that, real close and us kids we stayed real quiet. And always Dad would kiss Mom real gentle at the very end and Mom would blush like a kid.
I can hear the song now with Al Jolson's voice signing "...my darling I love you so."
Happy Father's Day, Dad.
I'm sitting here thinking, typing, feeling a little tired and a little sad.
It's Father's Day.
I was up early to wish Doyle good by as he took the cab to the airport he said don't bother to come, just to sleep in and rest, I wasn't feeling too well yesterday, upset stomach that had be bending over and worshiping the "Porcelain God". What caused it to be upset haven't a clue.
I feel better today, so it must have been a 24 hour bug, but I'm staying home tomorrow. Doyle called me later in the day to say he arrived safely at his children's home, in time for their Father's Day celebration. San Diego is only a short flight away, at least its not across country.
Sis came over to see how I was doing, and made a poached egg on toast for me, and took care of the dogs.
But it's Father's Day, Sis asked why I was so sad, I said that it could be a combination of stomach upset and feeling out of sorts. She nodded her head, "Dad?" she said and I said yes.
Even in old age Dad was a tall man, he walked like he was still in the military, his suits for work just so, shirts just so, he'd take them to the dry cleaners and pick them up, Mom would wash and dry the shirts but Dad would press them. Not that Mom couldn't or wouldn't, Dad said "Your Mother has enough on her hands without me being picky about how I want them ironed, I can at least help her out that way." Which was true, he even ironed our brother's shirts and our blouses and skirts when we were little, when we got older we did our own, even our brother's did their own.
He always insisted on buying a car he could fix or at least take care of a lot of the simple things, like changing the oil, adding fluid to the radiator, checking the tires, changing the air filter. But more complicated things like changing spark plugs, replacing the muffler, tuning the car he'd leave it to an expert, but he made sure about things.
Most of the simpler repairs around the house he'd do, he refused to have Mom get on a step ladder to change a light bulb, but if it was something that took more than his expertise, he'd say call the expert in.
He even figured out how to change the tubes in the old black and white RCA T.V., we had that for years and years until the picture tube blew---that was exciting because, it was near some curtains and the curtains caught fire, we were screaming but Dad just grabbed the curtains and pulled them down, while Mom grabbed a pot of water, the rug got wet, Dad's shirt got singed, his hand got burned, the T.V. was dead, Dad and my brother put it outside just in case, and the living room had to be repainted.
Mom called the Doctor about Dad's hand but it was just red and a couple of blisters, the Doctor did a house call, treated him and told him to come to his office the next day. It healed but he said everyone a work kept asking him what happened to his hand.
Our next T.V. was color, and what a shock that was. But Dad kept the cabinet from the old T.V. "The wood is good" he said and made it into a sewing cabinet for Mom to keep her sewing stuff and patterns in. I have that now, it holds CD's.
He always wore a hat, a Fedora, he had several of them, Sunday Best, two go to work hats, Saturday casual hat and the work on the car or work in the garden hat. I have one of his hats hanging on the Hall Tree as if he just came home. Sis has the other one.
He'd take us fishing at the pier, fix our bikes, he and Uncle Manny built a doll house for Sis and I, Sis has it now with all the furniture.
He'd take us to the park push us on the swings, made sure we were safe on the titter-totter and no bully's would pick on us. Take the boys to the ball games, we'd go to the zoo, and on Saturday when the ice cream man came give us our dimes and watch us while we made our selection. He'd always buy a Fudgesicle for himself and a Orange Creamsicle for Mom.
He taught us kids how to dance, waltz, fox trot, swing, we taught him the Twist, but when "Anniversary Waltz" came on the radio or was played on the phonograph he and Mom always waltz to that, real close and us kids we stayed real quiet. And always Dad would kiss Mom real gentle at the very end and Mom would blush like a kid.
I can hear the song now with Al Jolson's voice signing "...my darling I love you so."
Happy Father's Day, Dad.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Of a quiet Father's Day~~~~
Father's Day Darklings,
For those of us who are lucky that have/had wonderful, supportive fathers, "Father's Day" is a great day to acknowlege the man who helped raise you, guided you, protected you even after you flew out on your own.
At least from a girl's point of view.
From a Boy's point of view he's the man that at first we want to emulate, then dispise because he's interfering, and then later go to for advice and information, and in the twilight of his life share a beer and laugh at embarssing situations.
But for those who never had a Father like that, Father's Day can be a horrible joke. Mother's Day can be like that as well.
It all depends on how fortunate or unfortunate one is in their parents.
My siblings and I were fortunate. Dad survived WWII came home, raised a family, cuddled and cared for his wife our Mother. She was the girl he wanted to come home to.
He was humble but brave, never once were we spanked, well Brother Dear did get punished on occasion, but if we were out of line Mother would have us go to our room and then when Dad got home, she would tell him of our transgressions, we'd come down into the living room, waited while Mother was laying out our "sins" and then sit down while Dad asked "Why did you do or say that?" and we had to defend ourselves.
When we were little under the age of 7 the response was usually "I don't know" or "I don't know how that happened" or "I didn't do it" For the last two it was always clear that we were somehow involved. And Dad always decided on the punishment, sometimes consulting with Mom about it.
Because of how we were brought up we had respect for our parents, we worked at making them proud of us, but we were also instructed that if we transgressed it was best to be honest about it. It got to the point where if something looked tempting but wrong we'd ask ourselves "What would Mom and Dad say?" That made us think about our actions and our responsilities. Something that is much harder to instill into children these days but it can be done.
My brother and sister are examples of that, even if my brother has 3 boys who are complete hellions. My sister-in-law has said that many a time with those boys it's like driving a troika or 3 horse coach, all three need to pull and work together and it takes a skilled coachman to do it.
But this Father's day was a quiet one for me.
The evening before I had Coralline sleep over, and sure enough she fell asleep in my bed as we watched "King Kong Escapes" on Svengoolie, but we did have a chance to remark about the interesting clothes the evil woman was wearing. So we slept together in my bed and I was greatful for the company although Belladonna was puzzeled why she had to sleep at the foot of the bed since Doyle wasn't there, but made the best of it.
The next morning we had brunch at our favorite resteraunt, although it was crowded with families for Father's Day and many more going to the Ball game at the Coliseum, because of that I decided to take the backroads to her parents place, and it was fun. Coralline likes to take the scenic route if there's time, so do I.
After dropping her off I kissed my Brother and sister-in-law good bye, I felt I needed quiet time, so Belladonna and I drove to a near by Safeway and picked up a deli sandwhich and drink, a small flag and flowers and we went to the cemetery where Dad and Mom are buried. It was mild weather, so with a small umbrella, our lunch, a blanket, I spent a little time with Dad and Mom placing the flag and flowers on their grave and thought about all the years with them.
I remember the time Mom got into a fight with a big trucker that dented the car and she a little thing, started verbally going after that man hammer and tongs and Dad picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder saying to the man "Wait here I'll be right back" The man was surprised with Dad's actions but when Dad got Mom back to the car he said to her "Toots, don't start something I can't finish"; while Mom's mouth was agape, he went back to the man and they exchanged insurance info. Dad was tall and wirey, and this trucker was Big and burly. I had a feeling that Dad would have been on the losing end of a physical fight, but he did know his psychological way around, and got a positive response from the man and the man's insurance did pay for the damage.
In many ways Dad reminded me of Atticus Finch in "To Kill a Mockingbird". He made decent money and we never wanted for anything but we made things last, Dad could do many repairs to the cars we had, he did repairs around the house, but he also acknowledge when something was beyond his ablity, he and Mom handled the finances together discussing bills and savings.
And this was in front of us children, we were never excluded, that kitchen table saw "High fiance", math problems, english essays, "gourmet" dinners of meat loaf and stew, family counseling, dealing with grief and loss and family fun.
I remembered one time it was a hot day and we were in Gilroy, we had parked to get lunch but the car would not start. Dad fiddled under the hood, and then came out from under and said "It's an air lock, we'll have to wait a bit." and we did for 30 minutes, then the car started just fine. But cars were simplier then.
And his reaction when he came home and Mother announced to him that she had "burnt the refrigerator". That is a long story I'll save for another time.
Then the sun dipped a little lower, it got a little cooler, so I raised my bottle of Sierra Mist and said "Thank You Dad, for being You."
Now I will go into work later today, my Boss called me early and said he needed to have the afternoon covered so if I would come in later he would take me home at days end. An equiable arrangement.
Later Darklings
For those of us who are lucky that have/had wonderful, supportive fathers, "Father's Day" is a great day to acknowlege the man who helped raise you, guided you, protected you even after you flew out on your own.
At least from a girl's point of view.
From a Boy's point of view he's the man that at first we want to emulate, then dispise because he's interfering, and then later go to for advice and information, and in the twilight of his life share a beer and laugh at embarssing situations.
But for those who never had a Father like that, Father's Day can be a horrible joke. Mother's Day can be like that as well.
It all depends on how fortunate or unfortunate one is in their parents.
My siblings and I were fortunate. Dad survived WWII came home, raised a family, cuddled and cared for his wife our Mother. She was the girl he wanted to come home to.
He was humble but brave, never once were we spanked, well Brother Dear did get punished on occasion, but if we were out of line Mother would have us go to our room and then when Dad got home, she would tell him of our transgressions, we'd come down into the living room, waited while Mother was laying out our "sins" and then sit down while Dad asked "Why did you do or say that?" and we had to defend ourselves.
When we were little under the age of 7 the response was usually "I don't know" or "I don't know how that happened" or "I didn't do it" For the last two it was always clear that we were somehow involved. And Dad always decided on the punishment, sometimes consulting with Mom about it.
Because of how we were brought up we had respect for our parents, we worked at making them proud of us, but we were also instructed that if we transgressed it was best to be honest about it. It got to the point where if something looked tempting but wrong we'd ask ourselves "What would Mom and Dad say?" That made us think about our actions and our responsilities. Something that is much harder to instill into children these days but it can be done.
My brother and sister are examples of that, even if my brother has 3 boys who are complete hellions. My sister-in-law has said that many a time with those boys it's like driving a troika or 3 horse coach, all three need to pull and work together and it takes a skilled coachman to do it.
But this Father's day was a quiet one for me.
The evening before I had Coralline sleep over, and sure enough she fell asleep in my bed as we watched "King Kong Escapes" on Svengoolie, but we did have a chance to remark about the interesting clothes the evil woman was wearing. So we slept together in my bed and I was greatful for the company although Belladonna was puzzeled why she had to sleep at the foot of the bed since Doyle wasn't there, but made the best of it.
The next morning we had brunch at our favorite resteraunt, although it was crowded with families for Father's Day and many more going to the Ball game at the Coliseum, because of that I decided to take the backroads to her parents place, and it was fun. Coralline likes to take the scenic route if there's time, so do I.
After dropping her off I kissed my Brother and sister-in-law good bye, I felt I needed quiet time, so Belladonna and I drove to a near by Safeway and picked up a deli sandwhich and drink, a small flag and flowers and we went to the cemetery where Dad and Mom are buried. It was mild weather, so with a small umbrella, our lunch, a blanket, I spent a little time with Dad and Mom placing the flag and flowers on their grave and thought about all the years with them.
I remember the time Mom got into a fight with a big trucker that dented the car and she a little thing, started verbally going after that man hammer and tongs and Dad picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder saying to the man "Wait here I'll be right back" The man was surprised with Dad's actions but when Dad got Mom back to the car he said to her "Toots, don't start something I can't finish"; while Mom's mouth was agape, he went back to the man and they exchanged insurance info. Dad was tall and wirey, and this trucker was Big and burly. I had a feeling that Dad would have been on the losing end of a physical fight, but he did know his psychological way around, and got a positive response from the man and the man's insurance did pay for the damage.
In many ways Dad reminded me of Atticus Finch in "To Kill a Mockingbird". He made decent money and we never wanted for anything but we made things last, Dad could do many repairs to the cars we had, he did repairs around the house, but he also acknowledge when something was beyond his ablity, he and Mom handled the finances together discussing bills and savings.
And this was in front of us children, we were never excluded, that kitchen table saw "High fiance", math problems, english essays, "gourmet" dinners of meat loaf and stew, family counseling, dealing with grief and loss and family fun.
I remembered one time it was a hot day and we were in Gilroy, we had parked to get lunch but the car would not start. Dad fiddled under the hood, and then came out from under and said "It's an air lock, we'll have to wait a bit." and we did for 30 minutes, then the car started just fine. But cars were simplier then.
And his reaction when he came home and Mother announced to him that she had "burnt the refrigerator". That is a long story I'll save for another time.
Then the sun dipped a little lower, it got a little cooler, so I raised my bottle of Sierra Mist and said "Thank You Dad, for being You."
Now I will go into work later today, my Boss called me early and said he needed to have the afternoon covered so if I would come in later he would take me home at days end. An equiable arrangement.
Later Darklings
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