ibejim's Blog

So easy even a child can do it. Annoying camera work though.....

That camera work makes me feel drunk and sea sick

Jimbo how have you been? I have been away from the blogs a few days caught up in a whirlwind around here. The Devil has turned up the stove on Texas... we are experiencing some miserable days these days.

I will let you borrow my Hurricane IV Jimbo :)

I'd let you borrow my pool too but it might be a smidge difficult to ship to Delaware it might be less expensive to ship you down here for the whole Texas experience, you haven't lived until you have spent at least 1 day of a Texas summer in the 110F heat :)

They should know it. It amazes me... down here in hell's half acre, how many people leave children in cars. We have several deaths each year because a parent or day school forgets about a child in a car or bus and leave them to die in the horrific heat. I don't understand how you can forget your own child, especially if you are the one who buckled them into the car. I noticed a couple of weeks ago, ya'll had a child fatality up there too... same set of circumstances. There is no way, I would ever forget my son, he is constantly on my mind and especially in a car, his safety is more important to me than anything else.

I totally agree with you Jimbo. I can tell you that there is nothing on this earth more important than my son. Yes he can be a handful in a store, he pretty much wreaks havoc just about any place he goes (he gets it honestly) but you just don't leave your kid in a car, there are other dangers out there as well as heat like predators.

My mother learned the hard way. In 1968, I was 6, my brother Tim was 5 and my brother Robby was an infant. Our washing machine broke so she had to go to the laundromat... she packed all of us up in a old Impala and started the car...she remembered that she forgot the detergent, so she just ran into the house for just a second....leaving the car on and her 3 children in the car. I have always been a spirited person (I am sure you have a hard time believing it) but I decided that I could drive the car. So I put it in reverse and down the driveway we rolled. I couldn't reach the gas peddle or the brakes, so we rolled ever so gently backwards and into the street the curb and mailbox of our neighbors across the street stopped the car. My mother was mortified when she walked out of the house and saw the car and her 3 children in the middle of the street. I got into trouble at the time, but she got it when my daddy got home and found out what happened. Fortunately, all they had to replace was a mailbox, you can't replace your kids. She never left us unattended again.

HAHAHAHA! We would have been quite a pair! I was the oldest and the only girl and I got in more trouble than all three of my brothers combined.
The main road to our street was being repaved. That is a tomboys dream. I used to organize rock wars amongst the neighborhood kids after the construction people would leave in the evening. I have broken my share of passing windshields and no matter how many whippings I took, I would get up and throw rocks the next day. Trouble just followed me around.

That's funny about the creek, hopefully it didn't wreck your dads car too bad.

The older I got, my trouble went from mild to serious- my father was a Baptist minister, you won't find a drop of alcohol in a Baptist Church. When I was 16 my dad asked me and my best friend Suzie (who is now the Principal of a very large High School) to help set up the "Lord's Supper" trays. We thought it would be funny to put in MD 2020 in the little cups vs. grape juice. We single handedly served alcohol to the Baptist Church that day... my father nor his congregation were amused. I got a good chastising for that one and when I smarted off and asked how they knew the difference.... I got a good old fashioned switching. He never let me forget that little incident... God Rest His Soul.

I bet it was :) And they all knew your ass was going to get it!

My dad didn't mind making an example of me. He has been known to stop his service to come down and yank me up and take me outside for some good old fashioned discipline and say "dry it up" before we went back in. I wasn't allowed to go back into the church crying. He snatched me up when I was about 5 (I don't remember this, it's something they tell me)and as he was taking me out the door my mother said I grabbed the back door and yelled back into the church "pray for me!" which only worsened my punishment outside the door. My father didn't care where we were, if I misbehaved I got it then and there with whatever he could get his hands on... belt, switch, razor strap.. on another note, I turned out to be a pretty responsible adult who never got into any legal trouble or went to jail... none of us did.