A Little Winter Magic

Baby cows were common on our farm all year round. Our only pregnant cow this particular Christmas break was Princess. So, when she went into labor one cold afternoon, my banker/farmer dad monitored her progress. He watched her in her clean stall after his office closed and through the evening. Unfortunately, her typical labor didn’t progress typically. This calf was breech (feet first) and this situation put Princess and her calf in danger of death.

After a quick call to the vet, Dad hollered up from the barn. Time was short for the cows, and they needed our help. Princess couldn’t deliver this calf on her own. She needed human intervention and a Christmas-time miracle.

Dad recruited my city-slicker boyfriend’s help via his muscles. My sweetheart was already acclimated to our farm life. This wasn’t his first visit, so he understood as an honorary member of the family, he was expected to pitch in with the chores as needed. Usually, that entailed collecting the eggs and feeding the chickens. Maybe he carried up some firewood in the evening.

Down in the barn, in the frigid winter temps, Dad attached a pulling chain to the poor little calf’s ankles. The bitty back hooves were already out, but the rest of his body was stuck in the canal. Hitching the chain up and over a beam above their heads, Dad and my beloved hung their full weight and pulled on that chain with all their might. It seemed like eternity for the baby to start moving, but once it started, SLOOP, that little darling slid right out.

My honey had never seen such an event before; not even puppies. Heck, the only beef he’d encountered before meeting me had been served up on his dinner plate medium rare.

This night, though, my tough guy’s face glowed with amazement at the incredulous wonder he’d just witnessed. His hands helped bring a living creature into our world. Never had he been such an important part of a baby’s birth. As a reward for his involvement, he was bestowed the honor of naming the newest arrival.

“Magic,” my awe-struck fiancé sighed.

“His name is Magic. It was the most magical thing I’ve ever seen.”

I’m linking up with the sweet folks over at Yeah Write. It’s a party and YOU are invited!

O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A!

It stretches from December through February. It demands our time, energy, and focus. And as the end draws near, we live, eat, and breathe it. What, oh what, could this entity be? It is…

HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL, THE OKLAHOMA! PERFORMANCE OF 2013

In November my 12th grade daughter auditioned and landed the supporting role of naive Ado Annie. The 10th grade daughter was placed into the ensemble of the cast. And my 2nd grade son asked if he could participate, too. He was permitted as a little sibling, and joined the handful of directors’ kids in two of the ensemble numbers.

My husband can operate power tools, and he’s had 4 years of set-building practice. This year, he and about 6 other parents built THREE HOUSES, a SURRY, and a motorized WINDMILL. The details they integrated into these pieces are simply amazing.

Costumes needed sewn. No, I am not a seamstress. But I know a couple of them. Friend ‘A’ made the Ado Annie costumes (three of them) and friend ‘B’ made the peach skirt for my second daughter. JC Penney sold the blue checked shirt for my son, Amen.

Practices were generally routine in January and February. Leads rehearsed through the week, after school. Full cast rehearsed Friday evenings and Saturdays. The two weeks before the performance it was way more demanding: Rehearsals last from right after school at 2:30 until 9:00/9:30 pm. How do they do it over dinner-time? Well, we are a huge musical family at our small, rural school (≤60 per graduating class). With a cast and crew of about 80 in grades 6-12, our parents form small teams and provide meals on those long nights. We donate the food and serve dinner to the kids and volunteers. In our area of the state, this community of a “musical family” is unheard of. Other schools in our county ask how we do it. I can honestly tell you that it’s been cultivated by our musical director (who also teaches chorus in our high school) over the past 6 years.

The time and effort that all of us put into this project is evident on the performance weekend. Opening night is traditionally a Friday. This year, the students sang their hearts out and were thrilled with the standing ovation at the end. Our production is entered in many categories for the Henry Mancini Musical Theatre Awards. Personally, I’m pulling for my Ado Annie.

Grab a beverage and join us at the Yeah Write Moonshine Grid for the weekend!

My Long Road Back – Yeah Write #101

With the girls strapped in their car seats, I focused on the route to our day care. I followed the double yellow lines as if my life depended on it. If I dared to look away to the right, I might spot a telephone pole. Like a magnet, my car my mind, seemed drawn to those unforgiving towers. The nightmare played out in my head: a brief impact and finally the end. Oh sweet relief. My sadness and anxiety would be released and I would no longer be the burden on my loved ones that I imagined myself to be.

No. The girls can’t be a part of this. Their lives just started. They don’t deserve this. I must focus on the route.  Why is this drive so long?

At home, my husband didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know the evil thoughts the depression had planted in my mind. He only witnessed my rage. He protected the kids from my screaming. He contained me while I threw TV remotes and jewelry boxes around the room. I behaved like an alien, while he cried silently. He held me, while I lashed out at an unknown enemy.

I drove that route for nearly two months without deliberately steering my car into a telephone pole. I couldn’t tell a soul about those thoughts. I believed if I shared those dark thoughts, I was weak. But I wasn’t weak. Like a broken bone, my brain was falling apart and needed aid.

Once I gave a voice to those suicidal thoughts, our lives permanently changed. I was hospitalized for quite a long time. I left daughters without their mother and a husband without a partner. I couldn’t stop my tears from falling. A myriad of antidepressants and mood stabilizers came and went as part of the pharmacological treatment. Most of the medications failed. I received inpatient ECTs. (They’re not barbaric in our modern times.) They actually worked; jump-starting the happy chemicals in my brain. No longer a suicide risk, I was able to return home. Mostly medicated, I was not able to complete all my motherly duties. My Love did all he could and more.

I wasn’t yet whole. That process would take years. But going home with the hope my future existed was a start.

You’re invited to come check out all the bloggers who write and writers who blog on the Yeah Write Grid #101.

If you need help, call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255

*Double Yellow Line Image from 123rf.com

Me, Myself & Molly – Ketchup With Us #14

Ketchup With Us

‘KETCHUP WITH US’ – Prompt #14

In 57 words or less, tell us about your doppelgänger.

It’s been ages since I’d heard those treasured words. The observations had always flattered me. Then, last year, my oldest daughter caught the resemblance while watching an 80′s “brat pack” movie marathon on TV. ‘The Breakfast Club’ had just ended and ‘Sixteen Candles’ was just starting.

“Mom! You looked like Molly Ringwald when you were a teenager!”

Me and Molly back in the '80's.

Me and Molly back in the ’80′s.

I used to hear it all the time. Now? Not so much. Oh well, I think Molly and I aged nicely in our own ways.

Laura and Molly-Today

Laura and Molly-Today

Come ‘Ketchup With Us’ at the link-up hosted by  Mel & Michelle!

It’s always a blast!

Thoughtless Jerks

Looking back, I wish with all my heart I could erase this one terrible experience from my life…

I was tall enough to ride the Witches’ Wheel without an adult, but my little brother wasn’t. As a 12 year-old, I liked being the grown-up for him. Most times, we bickered something awful. We probably tortured our parents on the three-and-a-half hour ride to Cedar Point – The Amusement Park.

Once we arrived, we agreed to cooperate and not argue.We kept the peace because we had a common goal: To ride AS MANY RIDES in our one day as possible. We were a unified team and under an unspoken truce.

Oh, the rides at Cedar Point; the more thrilling, the better! The tallest, fastest roller coasters lived there, along with thrill rides like the Witches’ Wheel. It was a world-class-fast-as-all-get-out-spinny-go-upside-down ride. This was the first of many rides on our list.

The Witch's Wheel at Cedar Point - pic from coasterbuzz.com

The Witches’ Wheel at Cedar Point-pic from coasterbuzz.com

After patiently waiting our turn, we boarded the Wheel, our first ride that happy morning. I climbed into the tandem style car first and straddled the seat, with my little brother between my legs, leaning against me. We were buckled in tight. The ride operator clanked the left cage door into place.

At last, we started spinning, parallel to the ground. Then up, up, upside down we went. Oh, the wind whipped around my face and it was glorious! My brother laughed riotously, while I lost my breath in the rush of the air.

*****SPLAT*****

I can’t see! What’s on my eye? Stop the ride! AAGGHH!

I used my right index finger to wiper-off the slime from my lens. For some unknown reason – maybe God’s intervention on my behalf – I had left my glasses on instead of handing them off to my mom before boarding. As I scraped the nasty mystery goo off of my finger under the seat, my stomach started to turn. The odor was disgusting. Was it barf? I couldn’t tell. I was still flying in circles; up and down…up and down. My stomach was not keeping up

At last, the ride came to a full and complete stop. The attendant released us from our narrow cage, and I ran to my mommy.

Upon further investigation, and after a copious amount of soda to ease my nausea, my parents determined the slimy offender as sea-gull poop. In my EYE. On my FACE. If I had removed my eyeglasses as usual, even more bird crap would have gone in my eye.

Usually, we humans can scrape together a lesson learned from our experiences, whether they are good or bad. The only lesson I saved from this spin on the Witches’ Wheel?

Never ride that thing again.

Thoughtless Jerks.pic courtesy of fitnessandfeta.com

Thoughtless Jerks.
pic courtesy of fitnessandfeta.com

Happy birthday Yeah Write!! Come join the party!  http://yeahwrite.me/challenge-100/