-Gretchen-
Heidi and I were remembering some of the funny things about our childhood a couple of nights ago and we couldn't stop laughing over some of the things that we considered "normal".
We grew up in an old slightly drafty house in uptown Whittier and along with the charm and history came..... cockroaches. It gives me the creeps just remembering what we all put up with for the early years of my life. Eventually my dad started spraying poison around the foundation and retaining walls and that ended the problem completely.
One of the solutions my mom came up with was placing empty peanut butter jars strategically around the outside of the house. The cockroaches would crawl in for the leftovers and couldn't get back out. I remember one Saturday we decided to try to play a trick on some neighborhood boys who we didn't like. We thought that maybe we could make some cockroach soup for them and by some crazy chance they might think that it looked good and they would eat it! Ha Ha the joke would be on them alright!! We spent a lot of time on trying to make it look good. We put water in it and twigs and leaves and some mud.... YUMMY who could resist that scrumptious concoction? Well, I don't remember what happened with it. I'm sure it didn't make it's way to the neighborhood boys but the process was sure fun!
Monday, July 16, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Don't look over there!!!
-Gretchen-
This one is short and sweet and hopefully won't be too embarrassing to my mom! (our mom is a huge part of most of these stories because her reaction to most experiences and scenarios is why we remember them so well!)
We used to go with my dad in the summer time to a local park for church softball practices and games. It was a ton of fun to bring our bikes and pedal around without a care in the world for a couple of hours. One memorable time we were walking with my mom back from the restrooms and all of a sudden my mom, let's out a little gasp and says in an urgent tone, "GIRLS! DON'T LOOK OVER THERE! THERE'S A GUY WITH HIS FLY DOWN!" Of course we all snapped our heads around to look not because we cared too much or even knew what it meant to have ones "fly down" but because it sounded so interesting!
This one is short and sweet and hopefully won't be too embarrassing to my mom! (our mom is a huge part of most of these stories because her reaction to most experiences and scenarios is why we remember them so well!)
We used to go with my dad in the summer time to a local park for church softball practices and games. It was a ton of fun to bring our bikes and pedal around without a care in the world for a couple of hours. One memorable time we were walking with my mom back from the restrooms and all of a sudden my mom, let's out a little gasp and says in an urgent tone, "GIRLS! DON'T LOOK OVER THERE! THERE'S A GUY WITH HIS FLY DOWN!" Of course we all snapped our heads around to look not because we cared too much or even knew what it meant to have ones "fly down" but because it sounded so interesting!
Building an Airplane
-Erin-
One of my most magical memories from childhood is the day that Gretchen and I decided we would build a real airplane.
One lazy afternoon, we dreamed of how fun it would be to fly to Japan or Switzerland to visit the foreign exchange students that we often had staying in our house! We just needed a body for the plane, wings, wheels, and of course a gas tank. When we wanted to take off, we would take the plane to the top of Beverly Blvd. and race down until we caught air. Soon we would be on our very own adventure!
We feverishly hunted through the garage and back yard for the materials we would need to build the airplane. A blue rectangular laundry basket was perfect to sit in...we could just barely squeeze in together, but it would work. We attached some old boards to the sides to serve as wings, and tried to find some wheels to hook to the bottom. Our skates worked pretty well, but they had a way of flopping over, making the craft too unweildy. Hmmm...we raced around looking for something else.
Tired, we came into the kitchen where mom was working. Excitedly we told her what we were doing and let her know we would be off to Japan pretty soon. Without missing a beat, she offered to make us a lunch for the ride and asked us when we thought we'd be ready to go.
Energized, we raced outside to finish it up. All we still needed was a gas tank and some wheels. A milk bottle would work for the gas tank; we found an empty one in the trash. We were just one step away from completing the plane!
I started to get butterflies in my stomach...what would it be like to fly away from home? I imagined us bouncing along above the ocean, our hair flying in the wind as we ate our sack lunch. Where would we land when we got to Japan? Or should we fly to Switzerland first? Maybe we should let the Japanese and Swiss girls know that we were coming so they could meet us at our landing spot. Perhaps it would be a good idea to get their address so we could fly right to their house.
Soon we got tired and ran out of ideas. The only thing that stopped us from taking off on our adventure was the wheels for the plane and the gas for the tank! We decided to finish it another day. Maybe it doesn't sound so bad to eat dinner in our own snug little house tonight.
One of my most magical memories from childhood is the day that Gretchen and I decided we would build a real airplane.
One lazy afternoon, we dreamed of how fun it would be to fly to Japan or Switzerland to visit the foreign exchange students that we often had staying in our house! We just needed a body for the plane, wings, wheels, and of course a gas tank. When we wanted to take off, we would take the plane to the top of Beverly Blvd. and race down until we caught air. Soon we would be on our very own adventure!
We feverishly hunted through the garage and back yard for the materials we would need to build the airplane. A blue rectangular laundry basket was perfect to sit in...we could just barely squeeze in together, but it would work. We attached some old boards to the sides to serve as wings, and tried to find some wheels to hook to the bottom. Our skates worked pretty well, but they had a way of flopping over, making the craft too unweildy. Hmmm...we raced around looking for something else.
Tired, we came into the kitchen where mom was working. Excitedly we told her what we were doing and let her know we would be off to Japan pretty soon. Without missing a beat, she offered to make us a lunch for the ride and asked us when we thought we'd be ready to go.
Energized, we raced outside to finish it up. All we still needed was a gas tank and some wheels. A milk bottle would work for the gas tank; we found an empty one in the trash. We were just one step away from completing the plane!
I started to get butterflies in my stomach...what would it be like to fly away from home? I imagined us bouncing along above the ocean, our hair flying in the wind as we ate our sack lunch. Where would we land when we got to Japan? Or should we fly to Switzerland first? Maybe we should let the Japanese and Swiss girls know that we were coming so they could meet us at our landing spot. Perhaps it would be a good idea to get their address so we could fly right to their house.
Soon we got tired and ran out of ideas. The only thing that stopped us from taking off on our adventure was the wheels for the plane and the gas for the tank! We decided to finish it another day. Maybe it doesn't sound so bad to eat dinner in our own snug little house tonight.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Early morning mischief
-Gretchen-
One of the stories that comes to mind about my childhood involves the fact that I was the earliest riser in the house for the first few years of my life. I remember standing beside my parents bed knowing that I wasn't allowed to wake them up and being really hungry for breakfast. I would stare at my dad (I knew better than to bother my mom) and breathe on him until he woke up. This became pretty annoying to my parents so my dad had an idea. Instead of having to be woken up out of a sweet morning sleep why couldn't he leave breakfast out for me the night before? So from that point on (I'm not sure when it stopped) he would leave a little baggy of peanuts and raisins or walnuts on the old fashion black stove that was in the living room. I knew that when I got up I could get my little baggy snack and take it out side to play. I guess that worked pretty well because I don't remember trying to wake my parents up at ungodly hours after that.
Of course the problem with this scenario was that I had a couple of hours of total freedom from parental supervision in the early hours of the day and that meant that I was able to get into various amounts of trouble. I'll save those stories for later.
One of the stories that comes to mind about my childhood involves the fact that I was the earliest riser in the house for the first few years of my life. I remember standing beside my parents bed knowing that I wasn't allowed to wake them up and being really hungry for breakfast. I would stare at my dad (I knew better than to bother my mom) and breathe on him until he woke up. This became pretty annoying to my parents so my dad had an idea. Instead of having to be woken up out of a sweet morning sleep why couldn't he leave breakfast out for me the night before? So from that point on (I'm not sure when it stopped) he would leave a little baggy of peanuts and raisins or walnuts on the old fashion black stove that was in the living room. I knew that when I got up I could get my little baggy snack and take it out side to play. I guess that worked pretty well because I don't remember trying to wake my parents up at ungodly hours after that.
Of course the problem with this scenario was that I had a couple of hours of total freedom from parental supervision in the early hours of the day and that meant that I was able to get into various amounts of trouble. I'll save those stories for later.
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