Inherited, Interested, Instinct, Imposing, Impressive, & Imagining

Okay, so "I" wasn't as hard as I thought it would be :)

Some people inherit physical objects from their parents: rings, watches, boats. Others inherit physical appearances: nose, hair, coloring... While others inherit abilities: athletic abilities, gardening abilities, make-everyone-in-the-room-know-you're-there abilities.

Although I've inherited plenty of the second: curls, a large second tow, moles and more, & a few of the first, even if at the time these items are mainly stray socks I wasn't supposed to end up with or a favorite pen from the communal family pen cup above the phone, I think the thing I am most thankful for having inherited are the abilities. In the past year I have realized that despite other family members fears, I have inherited a portion of my mother's cooking abilities (and yes, I have probably inherited countless other things- plenty from my dad which we don't need to mention, I'm afraid these are plenty apparent). I am not sure why I never "applied myself" in the kitchen when I was at home. To have a schoon instructor with hands on teaching is something many don't get. I was impatient and mom was a fairly clean-follow- the-recipe-exactly even if it says to crack the egg on your neighbor's porch, than by goll you better crack that egg on your neghbor's porch or the recipe won't turn out right. I wasn't patient enough to read thorugh the entire recipe before beginning, however, which lead to many an argument around the kitchen island...But I suppose I digree...the point is--- I made funeral brownies! (and for those of you that are offended by this, I'll tell the whole story later, and post a picturemaybe!)


Awhile back one of my friends informed me that the number one public speaking that is ignored is the speech that flight attendants give before you take off. Thanks to this friend, and to my inability to ignore those who are being ignored by others, I now HAVE TO not only listen to, but be sure that my eyes are on the attendants during the "you may use your seat cushion as a floating device," and the "the nearest exits are here here and here." Thanks a lot...whoever it was that told me this information!


Friday I was at the airport standing in line to go through security when it hit me that in about 40 seconds I would have to say good bye to Brent. And instantly my insides went funny, maybe a better word would be limp. Yes, they went limp. It was this instinctual limpness that brought back a flood of memories-- of prior goodbyes. So many goodbyes. Too many goodbyes for any sane couple to put themselves through. I know that I will be returning to him shortly, but I had forgotten just how much I hated the word "goodbye." I'm still not quite sure how we did it for 4 years.


While on the flight here I noticed another interesting social phenomenon. Our society can nearly be sitting on top of one other and yet we don't want to say hello, let alone mention our name to the person we are sharing an armrest with. What is this about? Why have we become a society in which we feel like we are imposing if we ask someone next to us how they are doing?

I thought about this the other day when I was in rush hour traffic as well: we are literally not even a foot away from the person in the car next to us, and yet we choose to 1) not even act like they exist and try our hardest not to make eye contact or 2) get so bitterly mad at someone we have not even spoken to because they forgot to turn on their blinker. This reminds me a little of the song "Mayberry" by Rascal Flatts... "I miss Mayberry, sittin' on the porch drinkin' ice cold cherry coke, everything is black and white... strummin' on a 6 string, people pass by and they call you by your first name, watchin' the day go bye...." I think we need to be less afraid of imposing on the people around us and try and get back to knowing each other again.


Before I left my students were wrapping up their speech unit, which ended in the presentation of their speeches. I was so impressed with my pubescent up and comers! Maybe we'll end this year on a good note after all :)


Being home I always feel like I can breath a little deeper. I think this also leads to my creativity being a little stronger. I miss this-- I feel so clausterphobic in the city. Reminds me of the old Dixie Chics song, "Wide Open Spaces"

It's good to be home.

1 comment:

bridger said...

Great Post. I was glad to see you "home" this weekend even if only for a second. Glad the funeral brownies worked out, however, Jeff Noland and I will need to certify them as "to die for" at some future date. (rare funeral humor)