Thursday's Child

Hi Kids,
Well, the book starts out with some stats about me, so here's a few.
I was born a poor, black child .. no wait, that's somebody else. I was born on Thursday night, May 9, 1963. Guess that makes me Thursday's child.

Monday's child is fair of face,
Tuesday's child is full of grace,
Wednesday's child is full of woe,
Thursday's child has far to go . . .
Friday's Child is loving and giving
Saturday's Child must work hard for a living
But the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.

So I guess I have far to go, and it does seem like I'm traveling quite a bit recently.

But tonight, I'm not to far from the place I was born, Huntsville Memorial Hospital in Huntsville, AL. Of course, you know my mother was Teresa Yvonne Sightler and my dad is David Arnon West. They were only married for about a year when I was born, so I guess they never had much time to themselves before I came along. Jumped right into that family thing with both feet!

Daddy's parents were Arnon Edgar West and Jessie Clyde Swearingen. Don't know where they met, but I do know Grandpa spent some time in Kansas before moving to Georgia (Warner Robins).

Mommy's parents were William Hilary Sightler and Lillian ? Thigpen. I'm thinkin they both were born and raised in middle Georgia, but I'm not sure. Aunt Wilma could tell us I suppose, or maybe Daddy too.

Not sure how they got together, but I do know that Ralph Sparks from West Virginia met Mommy's cousin, Patsy and they got married. Now Ralph had a sister named Jean who met and married Johnny West, my Uncle Johnny. Somehow Daddy met Mommy through Ralph and Patsy. They met briefly and then corresponded via letters for a while before they got married. We'll have to ask Papa for more details next time we see him. I do know that they got married within a week of Mommy graduating from high school. Now don't get any ideas! Times were different then and women didn't work except in the home. Not many ever went to college and most of them never had a job afterwards. Besides, it's just a bad idea to get married before you even get a chance to find out who you are and what you want to do in life! Your mother and I didn't get married until we were 21/22 and even that was a bit to young!

I guess you'd have to ask Papa about where they lived in Huntsville after they got married. I've seen a few old movies and it looked kind of like a nice place for starting out.

Well, enough for tonight. Love ya, see ya later.

Moving?

Well, the day has come. I have to make a decision. Do I move to typepad or not?

I think I'll decide ... not to make a decision! whew. that was close.

OK. Seriously. I'm gonna keep my typepad account for a little while longer and let them charge me for a month or two while I continue evaluating it.

Until that time ... I'll be posting there. The link is here.

Bye. See ya at the new place (I changed the wallpaper and painted, hope you like the new look)!

Moleskines!

God's perfect little notebooks! Here are some cool hacks for using them. First heard about them on 43folders blog. After using one for several weeks, I'm hooked! Still perfecting my system, but I:

• Number the pages (lower outside corner - allows for putting date at top of page)
• Label Meta Data on top outside corner as it applies
• Reserve about 20 pages at the back and label them alphabetically for quick access items
• I also use that section for blog or webpage ideas
• Currently trying to apply GTD to this system.

Get one! Try it! You'll be hooked. I can't believe people grumble about paying $10 for a notebook of this quality.

What is 20 years worth?

** Also posted on my new, trial, typepad blog **
What would you trade 20 years of your life for?

* Most of us trade at least 12 years for a basic education.
* Some spend up to 12 more years to learn a profession.
* Others spend at least 6 years in service to our country
* It's pretty common to spend 30 years of more working to pay for a house
* At least for us Americans, we spend our whole lives working to get stuff and then working to maintain that stuff until we get new better stuff .....

Well, I've spent my last 20 years building a marriage and family. That shouldn't be as remarkable as it seems to be these days. I've spent 20 years:

* Trying to get along with someone else who sometimes has very different ideas about the world,
* Learning to put my frustration and sometimes disappointment behind me and restore our relationship,
* Learning that I'm not always right (not always ..lol),
* Learning how to show my feeling,
* Learning how to teach children about life, consequences, respect, and right behavior,
* Experiencing companionship to a level I never dreamed of,
* Finding out that love is a lot of work, a little frustration, a bit of sacrifice, and a lot of forgiveness (on both sides) mixed with moments of bliss.

I think I got a good deal; I hope you feel the same way, Renea! Sorry the guy you married 20 years ago was so clueless. Thanks for being my companion on this learning expedition!

A misty, musty summer morning

Also posted on my new, trial, typepad site.
Another humid SC summer morning, well almost summer. Reminds me of mornings spent in Grandmother's garden. Seems like every summer when I was a kid we three West family children spent a couple of weeks or more at Grandmothers house in Glenwood, Georgia. Lot's of good memories there.

Grandmother wasn't much for sleeping late and if you wanted a good, hot, country breakfast (this was before the days when sausage was verboten; nobody gave a second thought to gravy, biscuits, and butter) you got up early. No vegging out in front of the TV (shouldn't they call it larding out?), we had work to do!

I sure remember weeding the garden when the dew was still on the plants! Walking through the backyard barefoot with grass sticking to my feet. Then kneeling in the sandy dirt while we pulled up chickweed and other garden villains. After that, we picked beans, squash, tomatoes, or whatever else was ready to pick. By the time we finished, the south Georgia sun was beating down and clouds of gnats had gathered to pester us for the rest of the day. Sure don't miss gnats! Thank you God for keeping them down in Georgia!

Produce to wash, beans to snap, walls to wash, mattresses to turn out and air, raking pine straw, always something to do at Grandmothers. That's not to say we were slave labor or anything. Though working wasn't my favorite thing to do, it's just what we did. This was balanced by trips to the whirlpool in Scottsdale (?? Scottsville? something like that), cool watermelon, or playing in the sprinkler outside.

Man do I miss those days. Why? Sounds like a lot of work, doesn't it? I don't know. I sure miss my Grandmother; I loved her with a fierce pride. She was a strong woman who knew what it took to make her way in that world. She lived by herself and supported herself for many years before marrying again. She was a disciplinarian, that's for sure, but without crushing your spirit. I know I got lots of swats with the "fly-flap"; well deserved I'm sure. And yet I always felt a home there. Somehow I always felt loved there too. You knew what was expected and the consequences for not fulfilling them.

Well, I guess I've got my own chores to do now. Like cutting the jungle I call a yard before the neighborhood kicks us out. (While trying not to give in to the urge to kill the stupid beagle behind our house who bays for hours at nothing!) Somehow I think there's a comfort in having someone else watch over you.

Perhaps you missed that as well, Grandmother. I sure do miss you and Mommy. I still love you both.