Not With a Bang, But a Whimper

Not long after my last post at the end of December, Megan got engaged and the wedding planning madness began. I thought after it was all over, I'd feel like writing again.

I have thought of a few topics. Two titles were, "Hello. My Name is Shauna, and I'm a Recovering Mother of the Bride," and "Chick Days? I Didn't Know There Were Chick Days!" But the main ideas I really want to get out of my head would be sure to get me in trouble.

So...rather than leaving you waiting and wondering (I'm flattering myself here, thinking any of you even noticed the lack of new material), I'm not planning on any new posts and will probably delete the account so I don't feel like it's hanging over my head. I've copied all my old ones for my own records. I have to admit I'm still amused by some of them, and some of the photos crack me up.

I'm still on Facebook (those of you without a Facebook account should think about it and get on board! Kevin can help you with the privacy settings). Thanks for reading and for your comments over the past thirteen months. 

The Questionable Gift

After grilling my 91-year old father for Christmas gift ideas, he caved and said he could use a new Norelco shaver to replace his older one. Shopping online, I found the model I wanted at newegg.com. It even came with a free nose/ear hair trimmer. I don’t know if my dad needs his nose hairs trimmed, and the idea of anyone putting a rotary trimmer in their nose makes my eyes water, but it was free!

 

(Warning, digression ahead: The hair trimmer reminds me of the Epilady. Have you ever tried it? It was promoted as a pain free way to replace shaving your legs. I foolishly fell for the hype and bought one. I did one swipe on my leg and yelled, “Ow, ow, OW!!” as it tore the hair out by the roots. Obviously invented by a man).

Back to the story: The package from Newegg arrived at my father’s apartment on December 16th. I told him he needed to wait until Christmas to open it. I knew him. I asked, “If I hadn’t told you to wait, you’d open it now, huh?” He paused a second, then said in a small voice, “Yes.”

When I talked to Dad on Christmas Eve morning, he informed me in no uncertain terms he was going to open my present that day. He knew what was in the package and wanted to use it on Christmas day.

Christmas morning I made my daily ten A.M. phone call. The conversation went something like this:

Dad: “Well, I opened your present yesterday.”
Me: “Oh, do you like it?”
Dad: “I don’t know what to do with it.”
Me: (Thinking he meant the nose hair trimmer), “What do you mean?”
Dad: “It’s a Nintendo game thing and I don’t know how to use it!”
Me: (Shocked) “A Nintendo?”

Dad: “Preet (one of his caregivers) was here and helped me open the box. She was excited and said her son wanted one of those, but they were very expensive. I told her maybe my daughter wanted me to use it to improve my mind. Is this what you wanted to give me?”
Me: “No! It was supposed to be a Norelco shaver!”

So I’m in the process of getting Newegg to correct the mis-shipment. But I can’t help but think that some young boy opened up his Christmas gift to find a Norelco shaver instead of a Nintendo DS, crying out, “What’s this?!”

Smith and Byers Christmas 1950’s Style

Here are some Christmas photos from Larry’s and my families for your perusal:

The Smith kids in 1955: Me, Kim, Greg, Kay and Judy.  I was three years old. We’re in front of the fireplace in our San Lorenzo home.

I seem to have a smug mug in this photo.

I have no idea why I look upset. Crazed, actually.

A wacky smile on my face. Maybe too much fudge and divinity?

We’re anxiously awaiting Santa!

Christmas 1958. I was 6 years old. This is what color photos look like after 50 years. Sort of like looking through rose-colored glasses. My mother made my ballerina outfit/costume. It was blue satin with a pink tutu. I used my slipper socks as ballet shoes.

We got quite a haul that year; toys we actually played with for years. There’s a metal dollhouse, a blue pedal powered car, a small piano, doll clothes carriers, and an inflatable horse. (OK, I don’t think the horse made it past a year).

Here is Larry’s family in 1958. He was 3. There’s Barry, Sandra, Larry and Suzanne. Youngest sister Mary Lynne wouldn’t be born for another three years. Isn’t Larry cute?

I don’t know what made Larry have such an astonished expression, but Barry is cool and calm.

My favorite. Larry looks so cute and excited for Christmas to come.

I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and good times remembering the old times.

The Naughty Christmas

The following story’s events are true, unless you’re Judy or Greg. Then there might be a different version. Do they even remember…

The Christmas of 1960 found Judy, age 10, me, age 8 and Greg, age 6, anxiously awaiting to see if our wishes from Santa would be fulfilled. One day while my parents were gone, Judy hatched the idea of searching my parents’ bedroom for presents. Greg and I went along.

Judy found the Thumbelina doll she had asked for. She turned the knob on the doll’s back. Its head began moving, making the whole body squirm in supposedly lifelike motions.

Greg found the Mr. Machine toy he had asked for. He wound it up and it whistled as it rolled about the room.

 

I don’t remember what I asked for that year, but I remember we found The Game of Life. We opened it up, put the spinner in place and made it whirl.

I felt bad sneaking into my parents’ room, but we did it several times and played with our gifts. Our parents must have become suspicious, because they put a piece of clear tape at the top of their door. We saw it and made sure to replace it if we went into their room.

The snooping escalated. We got into the presents under the tree. We carefully unwrapped the ends of our gifts to see what was inside, then sealed them back up.

By then, I felt sick inside. Not only was I sneaking around, but I had absolutely destroyed the magic of Christmas morning by knowing what I was to receive.

My parents finally sat the three of us down on the couch and told us they knew what we had been doing. They said we would be getting nothing for Christmas. The gifts would be returned. I was devastated, but knew it would be a just punishment.

Christmas morning, the gifts were still there, Thumbelina, Mr. Machine and The Game of Life were under the tree from Santa. But I felt no joy in receiving them that year.

The next year, my mother bought three different patterns of gift wrap. She used one pattern for Judy, one for me and one for Greg with no gift tags. That way we couldn’t know which present was for which child. But we weren’t tempted to cheat again.

Thanksgiving Misgivings

We are alone this Thanksgiving. Just Larry, Kevin and me. Larry and I are recovering from “stomach flu” and had to cancel plans to have dinner with Judy and her family, my dad, and Megan and her boyfriend. Since we weren’t going, Megan is staying in Merced and will have Thanksgiving dinner with Bryan’s family.

This morning’s Modesto Bee newspaper came in a wrapper very relevant to our condition, featuring a product I’m very familiar with:

I laughed and had to show Larry. You’re supposed to cut along the dotted lines to make a bib.

So I’m cooking a small dinner for us and am hoping we can eat it. I’m really disappointed I won’t be seeing my family.

Just to end on a cute note, here is a photo of Megan’s first Thanksgiving with Grandma Byers, taken at Larry’s parents’ house in San Jose. Meg was ten months old. I wanted Megan to lean in toward the turkey, but she wasn’t having any of it! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Halloween Scrooge

I used to love Halloween, but our experiences the past few years have soured me. My family has turned into Halloween Scrooges. No one wants to answer the door for trick-or-treaters anymore. Here are a few rules if anyone wants to come to our house:

1. If you drove yourself to our neighborhood, you are too old to trick-or-treat.
2. If you have to shave, you are too old to trick-or-treat.
3. If you don’t have a costume, no candy for you.
4. If your baby has no teeth yet, don’t hold out a bag “For the baby.” I know who’s going to eat the candy and it’s NOT the baby.
5. If you are a parent, don’t hold out a bag for candy for yourself.
6. Don’t come to my house twice. I don’t forget that easily.
7. Don’t try to step inside my house.
8. If the porch light is ON, it’s OK to knock on the door.
9. Conversely, if the porch light is OFF, don’t knock on the door.
10. Seeing lights on INSIDE the house is not the same as having the porch light on (see rules 8 and 9).

Guess that’s all I can think of for now. After typing this, I don’t think we’ll be doing the trick-or-treat thing after all. (And after reading this, you probably wouldn’t want to come to our grouchy house, anyway).

                

(I found a bunch of posters online from the UK like the ones above. They are provided by different cities’ police departments each year. Citizens can copy and post them on their doors to avoid being bothered. I asked Larry if we should put one on our door, but he said, “No, we’d probably get egged.”)

The Black Hand

A late night radio host was discussing “Shadow People.”  This website explains, “Shadow people are paranormal shadow-like creatures that people usually see in their peripheral vision.  Reports suggest that they do not appear to reflect light and that their appearance is essentially a silhouette in black.”

This brought back a frightening nighttime childhood memory. I was probably eight years old or younger. I was on the bottom bunk of a bunk bed or trundle bed, playing with my stuffed animals; a panda bear and a lion. I had a flashlight to spotlight the show I was producing, with the animals as the stars.

Suddenly, a black hand appeared at the side of the bed. It was a solid black shadow. The hand slowly rose up to about mid-forearm length, formed a fist, opened back up, and slowly sunk back down out of sight. I was terrified. I don’t remember what I did after that frightening vision. I’m pretty sure I stayed in bed, too scared to get out and get help.

 

The next day, I told my brother, Greg, what I had seen. Sometime later, he told me he saw The Black Hand appear by his bed.

For years, I was afraid of seeing The Black Hand again. I wouldn’t look at the side of my bed at night. I especially wouldn’t let my hand or leg extend past the edge of the bed, out into Black Hand territory. (I’m sort of still scared to do that)!

Seeing The Black Hand was probably some sort of dream I had after playing with the stuffed animals and flashlight, but it was very real and very vivid. Actually still is.

What scares you in the dark of the night?

 

 

 

Demon Spider

Anyone know what kind of spider this is? I found it right outside our front door this morning.

It's about half an inch in size. It's black or very dark brown with a white "smiley face" (more like a demon face!). I've looked online and can't find a match. The closest is some sort of jumping spider, which really makes me... regret standing so close to get the photo.

Did I mention I'm afraid of spiders? When I was a kid, I wouldn’t sleep in my room if I saw a spider on the wall. I now can kill,..um.., get rid of them if they’re in the house. It’s just something about their legs. I’m not afraid of mice or snakes, but spiders give me the heebie-jeebies.*

My Aunt Charlene was terrified of snakes. When I was young, I thought it was crazy that she couldn’t even look at a picture of one. Now I understand. I can’t identify the spider because I can’t look at spider photos online long enough to make a match!

* Heeby jeeby was first used in the 1920’s by a cartoonist named Billy de Beck. Other popular phrases from that time were “hocus pocus”, “mumbo jumbo” and “the bees knees.” No, I’m not that old.

My New Love

After months of debating, I finally bought an All-Clad LTD 12-inch Round Nonstick Grille Pan .

I’ve seen grill pans used on cooking shows, but I was concerned about the splatter and the ease of cleaning. I’m not a kitchen gadget kind of gal, so after reading reviews, I chose a pricey grill pan (hence the internal debate). I think I chose wisely.

To avoid grease splatter, I also bought a 13-inch splatter shield.

A splatter shield keeps the grease from splattering (duh), but lets the steam escape. Once again, it wasn’t the cheapest, but I’ve used cheap and it doesn’t last.

Prepare for a major digression…Does my photo remind any of you Baby Boomers of anyone? (My pose is intentional)…

Yes! Miss Nancy from Romper Room with her Magic Mirror! “At the end of each broadcast, she would look through a "magic mirror" (actually a face-sized open hoop with a handle) and name the children she saw in "televisionland", then recite the rhyme, "Romper, bomper, stomper boo. Tell me, tell me, tell me, do. Magic Mirror, tell me today, have all my friends had fun at play?"

“She would then lead into, "I can see Scotty and Kimberly and Julie and Jimmy and Kelly and all of you boys and girls out there!" ” (from Wikipedia). I used to listen intently, but Miss Nancy never said “Shauna.” Thanks, Mom, for giving me an unusual name!

Back to the grill pan: I use the pan several times a week, cooking pork chops, steaks, and hamburgers. In addition to the grill marks and the seared flavor, the meat doesn’t sit in fat as it cooks.

To use the pan, I preheat it on medium high heat for three minutes, then lightly oil it. I plop the seasoned meat on, cover with the splatter shield, and let the meat sear for four to five minutes. Do not move the meat during this time or the grill marks will be messed up. Then turn the heat down, flip the meat, and cook until you’re happy.

Here are some boneless pork loin chops, just flipped.  Meat cooked in a grill pan doesn’t taste “grilled,” as in “grilled on a barbeque,” but it is much juicier than broiling.

The grill pan is the first All-Clad cookware I’ve owned and I love it. It heats evenly and is a breeze to hand wash.

My grill pan and I will continue to make beautiful music together.

(Thanks to Kevin, my very reluctant and impatient photographer).

Thirty Years Ago…

Larry and I were married August 16, 1980. That’s thirty years ago for those of you who are slow doing math. (I highly recommend getting married in a year ending with a zero. It makes figuring out how long you’ve been married much easier). I was 27 and Larry was 25. Yes, I married a younger man. (But in my defense, I thought he was older than me when we first met).

Here are a few photos from that day. Please, no mocking of the clothing or hairstyles. Well, if you must mock, be gentle…heck, if it’s a funny comment, go ahead and mock away.

Here we are, the newly married Laurence (Larry) and Shauna Byers. 

 

We were married in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, San Lorenzo, California by my bishop. My father and oldest brother helped build this chapel in the 60’s and it’s the one I grew up with. I wanted only family to attend the ceremony. We then had a luncheon in the “Scout Room.” After that we had a big reception for friends and family.

 

Kiss the bride!

 

My sister, Judy, and Larry’s brother, Barry were our attendants.

 

Our parents, Max and Evelyn Smith, and Marguerite and William (Bill) Byers

 

The Smith side of the family, from left to right: Andy and Judy(sister); Greg (brother), Jan and baby Jordan Smith; my parents, Max and Evelyn; little Kevin Smith (Greg and Jan’s son); me, Robert Huggins; Larry; Kay (sister), Bill and Cherie Huggins.

 

The Byers side of the family, from left to right: Stephen Eaton; father Bill Byers; Mary Lynne (sister); mother Marguerite; Jennifer Eaton; Sandra Eaton (sister); me; Larry; Sean Eaton; Barry (brother); Suzanne (sister); and Michael Eaton (married to Sandra).

 

I chose spice cake with apple filling. It was tasty! I saved the plastic doves from the top of the cake. Each Christmas I use them as part of our Christmas tree decorations. I nestle them into the top of the tree.

 

Kiss and hug, kiss and hug! Smack your sweetie on the mug!

A Rude Awakening

I haven’t blogged in over a month, despite requests from my fans.(Well, just my sisters-in law Jan and Suzanne. OK, that’s not a lot of fans, but it is plural). I just haven’t felt very bloggy lately. But today’s early morning incident tickled my blogging fancy.

We had a 6:20 AM wake-up call this morning from a crop duster. How rude! NNNEEEEOOOooowww!!! Try to pronounce that word like the sound of a dive bomber flying over your house, making passes every few minutes. My brother, Greg, should be good at it. He made great sound effects when he used to play with his little green Army men. I think most boys make realistic gunshot and explosion sounds.

We live near the edge of town and are used to crop dusters working over the nearby cotton fields, but shouldn’t it be illegal that early in the morning?

It wasn’t just the interrupted sleep that bothered me. It was a loss of unconsciousness, therefore a loss of pain free time for me (Migraine Land).  I thought about calling the police, but what could they do? Pull the guy over?

Lucky Larry

Larry came home from Kmart with a funny expression on his face. He explained, “I was at the checkout, and suddenly a red light started flashing. I remembered what had happened with you ( You, Too, May Be a Winner ), so I didn’t get too excited. i felt embarrassed.”

The cashier told him in a flat voice, “You’ve won a prize, a package of Orbit gum. Which flavor would you like?”

Unimpressed, especially because Larry doesn’t chew gum, he told her to give him the most popular flavor. The cashier brought an assortment, fanned out like a deck of cards. Larry just picked one and was on his way.  

I think this is Larry’s attempt at looking bemused. I told him it looked like a police mug shot!

 

Rather than looking like someone who had just been arrested, I asked Larry to look excited. Does this remind you of anyone…?

 

                                             Oh yeah.

My Dad’s 90th Birthday Party

In May 2009, my brothers and sisters and I hosted a 90th birthday party for my father, Max L. Smith. I’ve organized a photo album you can view by clicking on this link:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=170667&id=730384346&l=360d37853c

You don’t have to have a Facebook account to view it. (If any of you reading this do have a Facebook account and want to add me as a friend, I’d be flattered).

The photos were all taken by my brothers, sisters and their spouses. I can’t take credit for a single one! I’ll share a few with you.

My dad, taken this spring, at the age of 91. Still looking and feeling sharp!

Come on, you guys! Pay attention! It’s time for the group photo! 

 

 That’s better. (Kim, Kay, Judy, me, Greg and my father)