Monday, October 15, 2007

Proliferating Metaphors

The lovely Emily at Wheels on the Bus has sent me a bundle of light and airy interview questions. And I thank you, Emily, for keeping them light and airy. Emily is a wonderful writer. I encourage you to go check out her blog after you finish here. (And hurry. She deletes her archives quite regularly.)

1) If your dog could type, what is one thing he would tell us about your household that you would probably be unlikely to reveal?
I hate mopping and it shows. I vacuum daily (or intend to vacuum daily,) in order to keep the population of Nate-hair-tumbleweeds down, but beware the suspicious, sticky, dark spot on the linoleum.

2) What is one thing you take way too seriously?
Indignant Eye rolling. When one of my girls (or God forbid, my husband,) get irritated at my endless "nagging" at them to pick up their shoes, dishes, socks, books, toys, back packs, etc, etc, etc... they *sigh* which is annoying in and of itself, and then, if they are feeling especially daring, they roll their eyeballs around in their sockets. I've been known to come unhinged and hand out ridiculous punishments: No TV for a month; No talking to friends-not even at school; No breathing for the next 1/2 hour... It must be hard to take me seriously.

3) If you were writing a book about your life thus far, what would be the penultimate (second to last) paragraph?

This is a hard question for me, since I feel like I am mid spin on a rickety carnival ride called "The Holy Shit Tilt A Whirl"...

Pete Seeger and Ecclesiastes boast, “There is a season for every purpose under Heaven…” For better or worse, I am trudging through the bitter siege of winter and if I close my eyes very tightly, I can smell the breath of spring. It is the promise that spurs me forward. And though I am not alone on my journey, I know the mountains are mine to climb. Equipped with the proper shoes--appropriate footwear is the only way one will make it through,-- I am fairly confident that the first quiet moments will find me worn, but not broken. I am ever so eager to trade my Tattered, Trudging Boots for Dancing Shoes.

4) Tell us about one person in your extended family who has gone through something difficult and is now relatively happy with his/her life.
My Grandmother (on the other side of the family from my pedophile grandfather) was married to my Granddad for over forty years. They had four sons, my Dad being the eldest. They struggled financially, circumnavigated the globe following Granddad's job(s), put all four boys through college.
Grandmother cut off contact with her sister and brother more than 30 years ago and those fences have never mended. She clung to Granddad and he held her up. They were a commensurate compliment to one another; strength where the other was weak, reasonable when the other was rash, in love when the other was ready to throw in the towel. I've heard it said, the key to a successful marriage is "to never fall out of love at the same time." I think they subscribed to this school of thought.
Granddad had a stroke while repairing the roof of an elderly neighbor. He died three days later. Grandmother was left a Pillar with no Foundation.
She moved from her small Texas town to live close to her sons. She had her hip replaced at the age of 73 and decided it was time for her to give up snow skiing.
She still travels all over the US to visit friends from all those years ago when she and Granddad were chasing down jobs and raising their boys. In fact, she is, at the moment, in Italy with one of those friends.
She misses Granddad everyday. She talks about him every time I see her. She openly clings to the promise of being reunited with him, one day. And until that day, she's having a Hell of a time!

5) Do you sing well and what do you like to sing? (Alternate question: how does music impact your life?)

If music is water, then I am in a perpetual rainy season. I dream in music. I pray in song. My thoughts are accompanied by a constant soundtrack.

I love to sing. People around me don’t always love to hear me sing, but if they happen to be in the shower with me, or in my car, or within 20 feet of my car when I have the sunroof open, TOO BAD.

My 10 year old told me, the other day, that I should audition for American Idol, but that I couldn't embarrass her on national television by wearing any ridiculous clothes or hairstyles or saying anything stupid, and on second thought, maybe I shouldn't audition.

Thanks, again, Emily, for the thoughtful questions. If any one of you would like some questions from me, just let me know in the comments on this post.


Furrow said...

Those are really interesting questions and answers. I shudder to think what my dog would blab about were he given the chance.

I love the story of this other grandmother. I hope that's what I'm like.

Hannah said...

I was all smooshy while reading about your grandmother, and then I hit on the story of your kid deciding you daren't audition for American Idol, and I cracked up.

What a neat post.

Oh, The Joys said...

Before her accident, my Granny was missing my grandfather just the way you describe. I have to belive they'll be reunited some way - even though I'm not particularly faithful.

Peanut Butter and Jelly Boats said...

This was very interesting! Great Post!

Julie Pippert said...

What an awesome story, your other grandmother.

Cool to learn more about you. I am the same about floors, although honestly in our household chore divvying up floors are my husband's job. But if I didn't do them...(you can guess the rest).

painted maypole said...

Dancing shoes. Count me in.

Emily said...

I loved all the answers, but #3 was my absolute favorite.

Magpie said...

I'm with you on the perpetual soundtrack.