What am I doing with a blog?

Awww…heck. I dunno.

Strong Swimmer September 22, 2004

Filed under: Uncategorized — himbly @ 12:07 pm

My father…

oh…my father…

My father is a bullshit artist of the highest order.

I, as the only child of my broken family, have had the pleasure and privilege of being the only recipent of the teachings of the two most polar opposite people in the world. My parents are so unalike, that to compare them accurately would take more time and space on this thing than I’d prefer. They’re great, though…both of them. My mother lives in a comfortable suburban home with her husband and my father lives in a house he built himself outside of town with his 7 dogs. My mother took me to Shakespeare in the Park, my father took me to Stampede wrestling. My mother picks me up clothes she thinks I’ll like from Jacob, my father gives me gift certificates for Mark’s Work Warehouse. My mother and I go out for lunch, my father kills chickens for me. I’m thankful…because of them, I’ve become terribly indesicive.

I figure the only way I could possibly describe them is in D&D terms…but a/ I’d have to think about that and consult my manual and b/ it’s too geeky and I’d end up embarrassed and deleting this section of my little essay here.

My father, getting back to the bullshit artist part, tells his coworkers stories about me. He tells them stories about my childhood that he’s made up. He tells them stories of abuse and neglect with a straight face as if every parent throws their child into a lake in a sack to teach them to swim.

As far as I’ve heard:

– I’ve been (as I said just now) put into a burlap sack with a rock and tossed into a river/lake to learn to swim (which lead to the joke “she used to have a ton of brothers and sisters…she’s just a strong swimmer”).

– I’ve been slowly working up my resistance to Round Up (the weed killer) by injesting small doses since I was a toddler.

– I’ve suffered a mysterious and unspeakable accident which caused months of hospitalization and my mouth to be wired shut. “She writes on her pad that she’s okay, but her eyes tell a different story.”

– I was often locked in a closet because my parents couldn’t afford babysitters.

– And, a recent and personal favourite, I was put into a school for mentally challenged kids and it took 2 years before they figured out I didn’t belong there.


Did you know… September 16, 2004

Filed under: Uncategorized — himbly @ 5:24 pm

dr seuss war comics
Originally uploaded by himbly.

that Dr. Seuss used to be a political cartoonist?


Old ladies and grumpy men… September 15, 2004

Filed under: Uncategorized — himbly @ 9:58 pm

My grandmother was very old today.

She’s doing well…better than I expected. As a matter of fact, she was prancing around the hospital room like she’d never uttered the words, ‘can you believing I suffer so much?’ Just, after my uncle left, she sat down, held my hand and we both knew that she was not the same and that she had decisions to make (although, sometimes after 10 minutes with my uncle, ~I~ don’t feel the same and want to hold someone’s hand).

She puts up so many appearances and, frankly, can get so ridiculous that I forget that she ~does~ understand. We didn’t talk much, but I knew she’d been thinking about the rest of her life and the lives of her family after she’s gone. And she was squeezing my hand tight. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt as though she saw something in me she liked and trusted me enough to be honest. We discussed living arrangements for her when she gets home, we discussed the death of my grandfather 24 years ago, we discussed her needs and their impact on the family…but we didn’t discuss any of those things for long because her aphasia (and probably just old age) affects her comprehension and ability to say what she wants to say. So she has to stop. It must be a drag.

Anyway…she’s healthy as a horse, she just has a bum knee now. So that’s good news (‘cept for the knee) and I’ll knock wood.

Whoa! Dude…4 posts on my family and all my grandmother’s got is arthritis? Enough of that.


Bad Daughter September 14, 2004

Filed under: Uncategorized — himbly @ 9:31 am

I feel bad for writing what I did. My mum is wicked…she’s just a little stressed out right now.

Turns out my grandmother has just has arthritis and she couldn’t walk because her leg swelled up badly. I saw her yesterday and she was in good spirits. She should be home in a few days after they give her some physio and see how her new medication works.

More later…


I love you, Mommy… September 13, 2004

Filed under: Uncategorized — himbly @ 9:34 am

…but you’re being a passive/aggressive micro-managing martyr.

(so nice that she’ll never see this)


"Your grandmother’s in the hospital…. September 12, 2004

Filed under: Uncategorized — himbly @ 9:38 am

….but she’s okay.”

Well…good morning. Woke up to my mother phoning telling me my grandmother’s in the hospital. The good news is that it’s probably nothing. Her leg felt numb and she can’t walk on it, but they put her on blood thinners and she should be out today. I, however, snapped to attention and couldn’t get back to sleep.

We’ve been lucky with that lil’ ol’ Polish tank. She’s a toughie. One of the more interesting characters in my life, and I’ve got the pleasure to be related to her. Remindeds me of Scarlett O’Hara…started off a princess, lost it all during the war and did everything she could so that she would regain her ‘regal’ status. According to her, Poland pre-1939 had cotton candy trees and chocolate rivers. She lived in a city, Przemysl, which at that time was located more centrally in Poland. So, by her tell, the Germans and the Russians often took turns occupying. My grandfather was gone with the Polish army and she was left to care for my two year old uncle her mother, and mother-in-law. She was about 22.

She’s given me so many stories over the years. How russian officers often lived in her house, how she worked for the germans in labour camps, how people went shopping and then were unable to get back because one of the two warring sides will have advanced enough to cut them off from their homes. Closer to the end of the war, she and her son were herded out of work and onto a train. A day or two later, they were in Germany and she never saw Poland or her family again. She lived in a bombed house, helped in a soup kitchen, worked for a barroness, etc…and then, through letters written to family, found her husband after 8 years. He took her to Scotland and that’s where my mother and the rest of her siblings were born.

Yet…this woman calls my mother to work the VCR. She never learned how to lock a door until my grandfather died (I once told her that might have helped in preventing the Russians storming into her house…hehe). She consistantly opens the milk carton on the wrong side. And she can be ~mean~. She rules as “The Matriarch” of our family and is extremely comfortable with that title. “I’m the grandma”, she tells you if you protest ~anything~.

Anyway…she’s 88 and as healthy as one could hope for…knock wood. I’m pretty sure this leg thing will pass and she’ll be back chastizing me and my cousins for not being married yet in no time. I love that old battleaxe.


5 days in a leaky boat… September 7, 2004

Filed under: Uncategorized — himbly @ 12:54 pm

Lots has happened in my brain since the last post (went to crazyville…stayed for a few days, caught the shows, saw the sights …back in sanetown now). Feeling much better, thank you. Trying to think of what to write about next, but frankly, all I can think about today is the fact that my friend Sandra made ketchup on the weekend and that I can practically taste the deliciousness. Combing the web for recipes that don’t include sterilized mason jars because that may be beyond my present abilities. Will be back with more soon enough.

It’s good to feel like myself again.

PS. Don’t you just LOVE Magic: The Gathering? (Don’t you just, Rjak?) Some girls buy clothes to make themselves feel pretty…I buy a Fifth Dawn booster pack. Talking to the clerks at the geekstores about the deck you want to build can ~really~ make a girl feel special. And…when you tap that card that makes your boyfriend curse your very being…well…it’s a very specific kind of pride you feel.