Anyway. P?? I didn't expect P. At first I couldn't think of anything good for P, and then the words came, well, pouring out:
Places -- I love to go new places and see new things. I've always thought the best job for me would be one for which I'd have to go somewhere new every few weeks or so. If not sooner. The consistency would come from doing the same or similar thing at each place, and I'd meet new people and be somewhere new all the time.
Psalms -- This book of the Bible has brought me great comfort since childhood. Number 100, 150, even the good ol' 23rd. And many in between as well.
Pets -- This is bittersweet since I find losing pets to be the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life. Ever. But that doesn't stop me from loving dogs and cats and wanting them.
Puns -- I can't help it, I've always made jokes with words. And now (much to Husband's chagrin) DuckyBoy is learning to appreciate and make word jokes as well.
Pennsylvania -- I'm proud to be from this nice, beautiful state. That's how I think of it, as nice. Upright. Honest. Family-oriented. As I get older there are times I'm sorry I left it for (sometimes nasty) New York.
Philadelphia -- I loved the college semester I spent in Philly. A good friend, a (later-to-be) boyfriend, and a lot of fascinating experiences came out of it. Smiths album. Chocolate croissants. Being late to the one press conference my boss requested specifically that I not be late to. Going to the tippy-top of City Hall. (Hi, William Penn! Remember me? Photo by Jeffrey M. Vinocur)
Taking the train to Germantown for our classes and Center City for my internship. My roommate's shrine to her boyfriend. Taking the bus to the end of the line. Taking the bus to the grocery store, to the little shopping plaza where I bought my pot and pan, and realizing I could only buy what I could carry. Being the one who noticed that the conductors on the commuter trains did not check tickets until after the train had gone from one end of Center City to the other.
Walking around on South Street. Seeing My Beautiful Laundrette (high point). Watching the Thanksgiving Day parade. Seeing Blue Velvet (low point). Causing a (minor) traffic accident as a pedestrian. Getting laughed at for my essay about my view of how my life would be in 10 years (real low point).
And, last but not least, the knowledge that as it fades, the scent of Obsession isn't nearly as nice as the perfume itself.
Paper -- I have always, always had a thing for nice paper. Wanted to be a card designer for a long time, in fact.
Puzzles -- In first grade I could read well enough that the teacher would ask me to read the directions for our worksheets to the class. At recess one day, one of the boys pinned me to the wall and demanded to know my secret. Frightened, I stammered out the only thing I could think of -- which is that each day I did the newspaper's "Little People Puzzle" -- it was like a crossword except it showed a picture of what word you needed instead of a hint. Now I like Sudoku. And jigsaws. And word puzzles. but the Sunday Times Crossword is just too hard to be fun. One time in high school I did a crossword with John Haglin in graphics class. (High point.)
Pennies -- My dad collected coins for a long, long time. I still check my change for anything interesting and have the urge to save any wheat pennies I find. But at this point I have so many, they just take up space. So I've been enjoying the find, then leaving them in circulation for the next collector.
Last but not least, DB suggested one that's perfect for #10:
PTA -- I'm enjoying being part of DB's school. While I'm not eager to take on a larger role just yet, and I'm sure Husband would prefer that I never do so, my favorite part of the meetings has been that a couple of us go out to a diner afterwards and dish while we munch for a few more hours.
Do I have to stop at 10? Husband just suggested a few more for me...
Paris-- Husband took me to Paris for my 30th birthday. The memories are much, much warmer than the temperature was that weekend. Our hotel overlooked the Louvre and the Seine, which on our budget was amazing. We ate at McDonalds (which was a low point and a high point at the same time), and we also had one of the best meals of our life at Auberge de Deux Cygnes, sitting next to an elderly couple and their equally elderly dog; I finally remembered just enough high-school French (after being stymied for 3 days) to order the oldest, sweetest bottle of dessert wine that was so expensive they triple-checked with us before opening it.
We went back with DB in spring 2003, when he was around 8 months old, on our way to my in-law's rental house in an outlying region I can't remember right now, and had a taxi driver take us to all the main sights for a photo. And on the way back home we stayed overnight in a hotel with a great bathtub for a baby to play in, and I've got a great photo.
Photographs -- I've put my husband's childhood photos in an album, I've put my brother's childhood photos in an album, I have some of our vacations and some of DB's life in albums, and I hope to do my own someday as well as organize the photos of my father's life before he dies.
Paycheck -- Yeahhhh, I'd like to be getting those around now. Not doing so well on the DIY motivation. Pretty sure Mama's gotta at least look for a job working for somebody else.
Pajamas -- I do like to hang around in pj's, especially the 2-piece menswear style. Still mad about the careless way the tailor mended the hole in that silk pair. If I'd wanted a scratchy iron-on patch that made them unwearable, I could've done that myself!! They ruined my favorite lounging-around clothes, and I had to pay for it. Humph! Note to my sister: If your husband ever gets another pair like that, feel free to shrink them and send them to me, OK? Or just send them preshrunk!
I'll end with one more P of my own:
Porch -- I cherish my memories of the screened-in porch in the front of the house I grew up in, the house my dad built. He built the fireplace on the porch the year I was born. Our Christmas tree was always on the porch. There was a large hunk of a log, about 8 or 10 inches in diameter, that was smoothed at one end and had a hunk of carpet tacked onto the other end, for a stool to sit on and watch the fire. I could watch the flames and the embers for hours.
I remember reading nursery rhymes. Getting ready to go to the beach. Running in to tell my dad about my first home run. Finally meeting my mom's cousin Janice, the first other person I ever knew of with my name. Being cold on Christmas morning, and sitting close to the fire in my long flannel nightie.
Watching Chippy, the chipmunk we kept in a cage, run on her wheel and hearing her scratch around in the closed-in top section as she came out of hibernation in the spring. Setting up a HotWheels track to zoom from the doorway into the living room. Getting slapped hard! on the leg by a girl from the trailer park down the road when I didn't play the way she wanted to. Handing out Halloween candy. Going out the door to trick-or-treat.
Threading those shoelace puzzles little kids do for hand-eye coordination on the wide wooden steps that connected the porch and the rest of the house. Years later, watching my brother's friend's little girl toddle up and down those same three stairs and repeat, after someone said it to her, "It's a doozy!"
Watching The Hardy Boys --Shaun Cassidy, what a dreamboat, sigh! -- with the TV specially turned (and tuned) so I could watch it on the porch. Playing solitaire. Finding my mom's Cosmo hidden under a chair cushion (my Barbie doll and I had some hot times after that).
Bringing in firewood. Building a fire myself. My grandparents meeting their first grandchild (my nephew). Grabbing my black vinyl, not-at-all-warm, "winter" coat that matched my friend's from the coat rack. My high-school graduation party. And, finally, people carrying out the things they bought at the auction of all the stuff we couldn't take with us when we moved.
Philadelphia -- I loved the college semester I spent in Philly. A good friend, a (later-to-be) boyfriend, and a lot of fascinating experiences came out of it. Smiths album. Chocolate croissants. Being late to the one press conference my boss requested specifically that I not be late to. Going to the tippy-top of City Hall. (Hi, William Penn! Remember me? Photo by Jeffrey M. Vinocur)
Taking the train to Germantown for our classes and Center City for my internship. My roommate's shrine to her boyfriend. Taking the bus to the end of the line. Taking the bus to the grocery store, to the little shopping plaza where I bought my pot and pan, and realizing I could only buy what I could carry. Being the one who noticed that the conductors on the commuter trains did not check tickets until after the train had gone from one end of Center City to the other.
Walking around on South Street. Seeing My Beautiful Laundrette (high point). Watching the Thanksgiving Day parade. Seeing Blue Velvet (low point). Causing a (minor) traffic accident as a pedestrian. Getting laughed at for my essay about my view of how my life would be in 10 years (real low point).
And, last but not least, the knowledge that as it fades, the scent of Obsession isn't nearly as nice as the perfume itself.
Paper -- I have always, always had a thing for nice paper. Wanted to be a card designer for a long time, in fact.
Puzzles -- In first grade I could read well enough that the teacher would ask me to read the directions for our worksheets to the class. At recess one day, one of the boys pinned me to the wall and demanded to know my secret. Frightened, I stammered out the only thing I could think of -- which is that each day I did the newspaper's "Little People Puzzle" -- it was like a crossword except it showed a picture of what word you needed instead of a hint. Now I like Sudoku. And jigsaws. And word puzzles. but the Sunday Times Crossword is just too hard to be fun. One time in high school I did a crossword with John Haglin in graphics class. (High point.)
Pennies -- My dad collected coins for a long, long time. I still check my change for anything interesting and have the urge to save any wheat pennies I find. But at this point I have so many, they just take up space. So I've been enjoying the find, then leaving them in circulation for the next collector.Last but not least, DB suggested one that's perfect for #10:
PTA -- I'm enjoying being part of DB's school. While I'm not eager to take on a larger role just yet, and I'm sure Husband would prefer that I never do so, my favorite part of the meetings has been that a couple of us go out to a diner afterwards and dish while we munch for a few more hours.
Do I have to stop at 10? Husband just suggested a few more for me...
Paris-- Husband took me to Paris for my 30th birthday. The memories are much, much warmer than the temperature was that weekend. Our hotel overlooked the Louvre and the Seine, which on our budget was amazing. We ate at McDonalds (which was a low point and a high point at the same time), and we also had one of the best meals of our life at Auberge de Deux Cygnes, sitting next to an elderly couple and their equally elderly dog; I finally remembered just enough high-school French (after being stymied for 3 days) to order the oldest, sweetest bottle of dessert wine that was so expensive they triple-checked with us before opening it.
We went back with DB in spring 2003, when he was around 8 months old, on our way to my in-law's rental house in an outlying region I can't remember right now, and had a taxi driver take us to all the main sights for a photo. And on the way back home we stayed overnight in a hotel with a great bathtub for a baby to play in, and I've got a great photo.
Photographs -- I've put my husband's childhood photos in an album, I've put my brother's childhood photos in an album, I have some of our vacations and some of DB's life in albums, and I hope to do my own someday as well as organize the photos of my father's life before he dies.
Paycheck -- Yeahhhh, I'd like to be getting those around now. Not doing so well on the DIY motivation. Pretty sure Mama's gotta at least look for a job working for somebody else.
Pajamas -- I do like to hang around in pj's, especially the 2-piece menswear style. Still mad about the careless way the tailor mended the hole in that silk pair. If I'd wanted a scratchy iron-on patch that made them unwearable, I could've done that myself!! They ruined my favorite lounging-around clothes, and I had to pay for it. Humph! Note to my sister: If your husband ever gets another pair like that, feel free to shrink them and send them to me, OK? Or just send them preshrunk!I'll end with one more P of my own:
Porch -- I cherish my memories of the screened-in porch in the front of the house I grew up in, the house my dad built. He built the fireplace on the porch the year I was born. Our Christmas tree was always on the porch. There was a large hunk of a log, about 8 or 10 inches in diameter, that was smoothed at one end and had a hunk of carpet tacked onto the other end, for a stool to sit on and watch the fire. I could watch the flames and the embers for hours.
I remember reading nursery rhymes. Getting ready to go to the beach. Running in to tell my dad about my first home run. Finally meeting my mom's cousin Janice, the first other person I ever knew of with my name. Being cold on Christmas morning, and sitting close to the fire in my long flannel nightie.
Watching Chippy, the chipmunk we kept in a cage, run on her wheel and hearing her scratch around in the closed-in top section as she came out of hibernation in the spring. Setting up a HotWheels track to zoom from the doorway into the living room. Getting slapped hard! on the leg by a girl from the trailer park down the road when I didn't play the way she wanted to. Handing out Halloween candy. Going out the door to trick-or-treat.
Threading those shoelace puzzles little kids do for hand-eye coordination on the wide wooden steps that connected the porch and the rest of the house. Years later, watching my brother's friend's little girl toddle up and down those same three stairs and repeat, after someone said it to her, "It's a doozy!"
Watching The Hardy Boys --Shaun Cassidy, what a dreamboat, sigh! -- with the TV specially turned (and tuned) so I could watch it on the porch. Playing solitaire. Finding my mom's Cosmo hidden under a chair cushion (my Barbie doll and I had some hot times after that).
Bringing in firewood. Building a fire myself. My grandparents meeting their first grandchild (my nephew). Grabbing my black vinyl, not-at-all-warm, "winter" coat that matched my friend's from the coat rack. My high-school graduation party. And, finally, people carrying out the things they bought at the auction of all the stuff we couldn't take with us when we moved.
