Friday, August 20, 2010
I made taco's yesterday out of ground beef and tomatoes that were donated to me to feed people. I saw my friend, JT, coming in the building and he looked like walking death. I think he has pancreatic cancer but I am not sure exactly what is wrong with him because his mind is so bad right now.
I took him a plate of taco's, mac/cheese and sliced cucumbers. He was so grateful that I thought he was going to burst into tears. He kissed me on the hand to show his gratitude. Moments like that are why I do the things I do - it's all the thanks I need. He asked me where to return the plate to (I was out of paper plates) and I told him even though he used to know my apartment number. More than likely he won't remember to return it but I have too many plates anyway so it doesn't really matter.
(I fed 2 other people tacos as well ) Thanks to my aunt Patty and uncle Gerald for the food donations. I still have more food to give out.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
That was the name of our first dog. She was a beagle that our uncle Wallace gave to us. We called her Cleo for short. She received the full name because she used to ride in the boat behind our car to Summersville Lake every weekend when we went camping. We loved to look back at her and watch her ears blow in the wind.
Cleo used to pull her doghouse around the neighborhood behind us as we ran and played. Quite frankly she used to do this if she just wanted to go somewhere. She did not let a little thing like a doghouse deter her!
...although I didn't know it at the time. I actually figured it out in the last couple of years or so. He used to take me out and paddle me 3 or 4 times a week. I didn't have to be doing anything. Sometimes I would just be sitting there quietly doing my work and I would hear, "Pam, out in the hall!" Then I would just dutifully march out there and bend over and get a swat on my bottom with his precious glass paddle.
It happened so much that I did start to cause trouble in the class sometimes because I knew I was going to be paddled anyway. There would be a group of kids on the other side of the classroom acting up and he would start naming names and he would throw in my name for good measure. I was actually a bookworm though and other than his class I never (hardly ever) got in any trouble. In fact I was paddled more in one week in his class than I was in my entire 12 years of school.
One time to punish the class he gave us 10 minutes to memorize a paragraph and then he went down the line and when an offending student couldn't recite it he would swat their hand with that paddle. When he got to me I recited the entire paragraph perfectly (the only one to do so) but because I didn't want to be the "smart girl" I substituted the word "crap" for the very last noun in the paragraph. This really set him off and not only did I not get my hand "slapped" with the paddle. He took me out in the hallway everday for a week for that one infraction.
I mentioned this to my mom once and she asked me why I didn't tell her. I pointed out to her that not only would she not have defended me but she would have whipped me again when I got home, so the last person on earth I would have said anything to was her.