Morning everyone! I'm down another 2 pounds! Woohoo!
Yesterday was pretty much a disaster with that migraine. Boy there is nothing like the pain of a migraine to ruin an otherwise perfectly good day. I took my medicine, wrapped an ice pack around my head and went back to sleep for about 1-1/2 hours and that helped, but I had that "blah" feeling for the rest of the day and man do I hate that! I didn't eat anything until supper last night and then I had 2 pieces of roasted chicken and didn't want anything else.
I need to go check and see where I left off. Be right back!
Okay, I left off with that warm smell of bread. Most things in my memory start about the time I was 3 years old. My mom and dad and I moved into a very little house, a 2 bedroom house that was right in front of the railroad tracks. Mom always said that if we ever had a derailment, she'd have an engineer in her kitchen! The tracks were very close. The trains would come through there and literally shake the house, but you know, I don't ever remember the trains waking me up at night. I guess you get used to things like that. Now, I can't sleep with the tiniest noise. Everything wakes me up (except my alarm clock! LOL). So I sleep with ear plugs in (my husband has obstructive sleep apnea and snores really loud!).
Our backyard at that little house had an old shack for a garage. I was told never to go in there because it was too dangerous, too much stuff to fall on or the building itself could fall on top of me. Did I listen? Was I a kid? Of course I went in there. I liked digging through the old stuff and coming up with my own tales of whether or not someone had committed some horrible crime in there. My mom and sister used to watch the Friday Night Horror show with Alfred Hitchcock, so I was always thinking something sinister had happened out there in that old garage. But, sure enough, someone would find out I was in there and I would either get sent to my room or get a spanking, cause they thought I had run off or were afraid I might get cut on some of that old broken glass on the floor.
Mom was too busy working to clean it up, and at that time my dad had become disabled. He had an enlarged heart. Mom always said that if he leaned forward, you could see the edge of his heart below his ribs. Like I said earlier, he died when I was 7, so something like that, a little kid wouldn't notice. He had rheumatic fever when he was young and they say that's what started the enlarged heart, plus mom said one night when he was sick and couldn't seem to breathe enough, in the middle of winter, he went to the front door, against her wishes, and he took several big gulps of that cold air. She believes that had a lot to do with his heart being enlarged.
One of my favorite memories was with dad. My sister was 17 years older than me and while she was there, before she got married the first time, she and I would watch dad and when he wore a muscle type T shirt, if he had even the slightest, tiniest rip in it, we would sneak up to him, stick a finger in that hole and start ripping! We tore the shirt off of him and left him in just the neck and arm bands! Sometimes I think he wore those shirts just because he knew we would do that, and he loved that attention we gave him, and we loved the attention he gave us.
Dad had to stay home and he became a pretty good cook! Especially his gravy. Mom raved about his gravy until she passed away. Said she never could make gravy like dad's. He had to have meat for every meal, bacon, or sausage for breakfast had to happen, or maybe ham. But anyway, he stayed home to take care of the house and mom worked. He was always there to get me ready for school. He made sure my fingernails were clean and my hair was combed, which mom made me keep in a "ducktail." I hated that haircut, but it was easy for dad to take care of.
Well, more tomorrow............................