Nat got the important parts of her story correct. However, there are some additional facts that I wasn't about to share with the trooper who pulled me over.
Amber and Nat were in the back seat of the old red Nova. We were near a stop sign next to the Meadowbrook Chapel where we attended Church in Virginia. I had been having problems with the Nova stalling when I braked for a stop. As I approached the stop sign I checked both ways for cars (and police). The roads were clear so instead of coming to a complete stop and stalling the car, I slowed, but kept moving through the intersection. I had just slid past the stop sign when a Va. Trooper popped over the hill to the right. I knew I "was in a heap of trouble" as I turned right. I kept watching in the rear view mirror and sure enough he turned around.
I watched for convenient place to pull off the road as the trooper followed our car. Soon the red lights began to flash, and I pulled to the side of the road. For a fleeting second, I thought I have an excellant excuse. It was the car's fault. The stupid thing stalls at intersections. Fortunately, I saw the error in the excuse before the trooper walked to our car. If the car wasn't working properly, I had no business driving it with two kids in the back seat.
So, I decided to take my chances with what would likely be the trooper's first conclusion.
After he checked my license, he looked into the rear seat.
"You know what you did back there don't you?"
Of course I did. But I also knew why I did it, and I kept that a secret. Better to just say "Yes Trooper" and take my lumps.
"Yes, Trooper."
"You know running stop signs is dangerous."
"Yes, Trooper."
"You should be ashamed of driving like that especially with children in the car."
"Yes, Trooper."
"Well, I won't give you a ticket this time, but you need to act like a responsible parent and keep your family safe."
"Thank you, Trooper"
I waited until he pulled back on the road and was out of sight before I continued. I wasn't about to risk stalling the car where he could witness it.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Well I sent everyone an e-mail with my cara and dad story. Sorry it took me a while. I really like having a blogspot that we can all chat in. Thanks Spamber for taking the time to do it. It's sunday evening and I feel like the weekend just flew by and I have to go back to work. Yuck. Mom got a call from Lauren in Hawaii. Must be nice!! I look forward to seeing everyone in June for Zac and Hollys wedding. It will be a good time. I hope Holly knows what she is getting into by joining the Cain clan. She still has time to run Zac. Cya, Nat
Friday, April 27, 2007
Now to the Real Stuff
I have to admit for most of my youth and time around Cara, she was going through the discovery phase of her life. This is different for each kid and her's was a little scarier than most...Therefore the events and actions mentioned here should not be taken as a true reflection of Cara, as we can say that she was possessed by horomones during those years. Now she is a great person with a kind spirit to people, animal, and inanimate objects.
Most of our family stories have been told a million times over and I am sure that this one has made it around the family chat circle more than once. However, I know Amber is a fan of this story and Mom did suggest it. So in honor of Cara's birthday and growth into the Cara we know and love, here it is.
Cara The Angel From Below
As a punk teenager Cara was a constant source of change, from hair color to clothes style. However, she remained a true rocker to the core and her chic band was a powerhouse of talent. Venus 478 won first place in the Battle of the Bands, back when it used to be good and actually mean something. They were successful and all girls. But being girls didn't chain them to behaving in the cliche girl way. No they went out to make a statement, "Don't Mess With The Goddesses." To prove their point they had various items. Terror was their main tactic and their paraphenilia often protrayed death. One such object was a small soft bodied doll, which I'm pretty sure Hayley and I played with.
One afternoon I was gathering stuff to take to Hayley's, excited about the days potential. It was summer, it was sunny, it a break of some sort, and Mom was in a good mood. Everything was going my way and I only had to grab some cloths for my doll from the cardboard dresser in the closet. Little did I know what lurked in the corners. As many of you can recall our room was painted a dark purple, black at night, and didn't welcome the sun as much as the current petite sea foam green. This color aided in obscuring the contents of the closet. Although there was bountiful light the deep recesses of the space could never been exposed. On top of the lack of light, there was mass amounts of clothes hanging or dropped or cluttering the closet. In short to find something in the closet you had to lean in with your arms outstretched and rest your chin on the clothes protruding out. Resembles a zombie if that helps. So there I was just a young sprout searching for her goodies.
I was scrambling around without any inclination to what I might encounter and no fear that there should be anything to fear. Besides the creepy catdoll thing someone made Nat and Amber, my closet was safe, and I knew where the creepy catdoll was, shoved on the top shelf in a corner, I put it there. As I scrounged around I felt something soft and squishy hit my hand. Huh. It wasn't clothes, it wasn't my doll she was already out, all the stuffed animals were in the cabbage patch cart or downstairs, and it wasn't a cat it would have made a noise...What could it possibly be? Curiosity killed the cat and it darn near killed me of fright. It took me a minute or two to withdraw my hand, the item kept getting caught on all the junk in there and again you have to balance your weight on your heels and chin on hanging clothes. Finally my hand emerged. I took a step back and looked down. It was a naked doll and I held it face down. "Hmm this isn't mine," I thought as I flipped it over. I don't think it is possible to describe the utter terror I felt looking at the poor creature. I was young and not exposed to the such things. The doll had red nail polish splashed all over it, like blood. There were pins stuck in her head and body...and her eyes had been punched out...I was shaking as I shoved the tormented doll back in the closet, in the bottom corner to the left. There it would stay, out of sight out of mind right? I raced to Hayley's, screw the doll clothes I didn't want to risk finding something worse. I told Hayley about one of our friend's awful demise and we looked toward her bedroom door wondering what other toys of ours had been kidnapped and subjected to such unthinkable acts.
At nights I would lay on my itchy flea and crumb ridden bed and stare at the open closet door, there was no way to close it, too much stuff. The room with the dark paint seemed like a tiny box and the only other occupant could race through the opening of the closet and demand why I let them get her. Then proceed to kill me. I lost sleep to those haunting thoughts of an angry doll and a mean sister for leaving her there and not even sleeping in her bed so she could be the one attacked.
Most of our family stories have been told a million times over and I am sure that this one has made it around the family chat circle more than once. However, I know Amber is a fan of this story and Mom did suggest it. So in honor of Cara's birthday and growth into the Cara we know and love, here it is.
Cara The Angel From Below
As a punk teenager Cara was a constant source of change, from hair color to clothes style. However, she remained a true rocker to the core and her chic band was a powerhouse of talent. Venus 478 won first place in the Battle of the Bands, back when it used to be good and actually mean something. They were successful and all girls. But being girls didn't chain them to behaving in the cliche girl way. No they went out to make a statement, "Don't Mess With The Goddesses." To prove their point they had various items. Terror was their main tactic and their paraphenilia often protrayed death. One such object was a small soft bodied doll, which I'm pretty sure Hayley and I played with.
One afternoon I was gathering stuff to take to Hayley's, excited about the days potential. It was summer, it was sunny, it a break of some sort, and Mom was in a good mood. Everything was going my way and I only had to grab some cloths for my doll from the cardboard dresser in the closet. Little did I know what lurked in the corners. As many of you can recall our room was painted a dark purple, black at night, and didn't welcome the sun as much as the current petite sea foam green. This color aided in obscuring the contents of the closet. Although there was bountiful light the deep recesses of the space could never been exposed. On top of the lack of light, there was mass amounts of clothes hanging or dropped or cluttering the closet. In short to find something in the closet you had to lean in with your arms outstretched and rest your chin on the clothes protruding out. Resembles a zombie if that helps. So there I was just a young sprout searching for her goodies.
I was scrambling around without any inclination to what I might encounter and no fear that there should be anything to fear. Besides the creepy catdoll thing someone made Nat and Amber, my closet was safe, and I knew where the creepy catdoll was, shoved on the top shelf in a corner, I put it there. As I scrounged around I felt something soft and squishy hit my hand. Huh. It wasn't clothes, it wasn't my doll she was already out, all the stuffed animals were in the cabbage patch cart or downstairs, and it wasn't a cat it would have made a noise...What could it possibly be? Curiosity killed the cat and it darn near killed me of fright. It took me a minute or two to withdraw my hand, the item kept getting caught on all the junk in there and again you have to balance your weight on your heels and chin on hanging clothes. Finally my hand emerged. I took a step back and looked down. It was a naked doll and I held it face down. "Hmm this isn't mine," I thought as I flipped it over. I don't think it is possible to describe the utter terror I felt looking at the poor creature. I was young and not exposed to the such things. The doll had red nail polish splashed all over it, like blood. There were pins stuck in her head and body...and her eyes had been punched out...I was shaking as I shoved the tormented doll back in the closet, in the bottom corner to the left. There it would stay, out of sight out of mind right? I raced to Hayley's, screw the doll clothes I didn't want to risk finding something worse. I told Hayley about one of our friend's awful demise and we looked toward her bedroom door wondering what other toys of ours had been kidnapped and subjected to such unthinkable acts.
At nights I would lay on my itchy flea and crumb ridden bed and stare at the open closet door, there was no way to close it, too much stuff. The room with the dark paint seemed like a tiny box and the only other occupant could race through the opening of the closet and demand why I let them get her. Then proceed to kill me. I lost sleep to those haunting thoughts of an angry doll and a mean sister for leaving her there and not even sleeping in her bed so she could be the one attacked.
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Honest Abe
I was fortunate enough to grow up in a home where honesty was the expected standard. I didn't always appreciate that gift as a kid. I thought it was a bit goofy and sometimes just down right annoying! Did we get an extra hamburger in the drive through? Well, Dad would park, walk back to the burger place and pay for the extra hamburger. Did you earn any money babysitting? Dad reminded you to pay your tithing (it was a real bummer that Dad was the ward clerk so he knew if you paid it or not.) Stumped on you last math homework problem? Better be prepared to do the entire problem, step by step if you asked Dad for help. His theory was so you could "learn" how to do the problem and so it was really "your" work. Somehow I managed to live in this troubling and burdensome environment of honesty.
One summer our family went on a car trip. I can't remember where but I do remember it was hot and our car broke down just south of Somewheresville. Mom let us out to stretch our legs while Dad talked to the mechanic. I know Nat and Zach were with me and perhaps a small toddler Cara. As we wondered around we were suddenly drawn to a pop machine like magnets to a fridge. A larger than life sized icy pop can was pictured on the front complete with water droplets running down the sides and fizz spurting from the freshly opened can. (I must digress here briefly and remind the readers that pop was like caviar in our home. It was a rare delicacy served at special occasions and in small, Dixie cup amounts. ) We all knew it wasn't even worth asking Mom if we could have one.
Out of that small cluster of thirsty children someone put out a wistful finger and pushed a button. Miraculously a can of pop slid down the shoot. It was cold and heavy in our hands. God had smiled on us we were sure. We tried again and another can slid into waiting hands. We tried again with the same result. Soon we each had our own gift of icy, cold , refreshment from Heaven. That is until Dad saw us carrying them to the car. It didn't matter to Dad the the pop machine had just given us 3 or 4 cans of pop for free. No, it didn't matter because it would be steeling to take something without paying for it.
Dad returned all the pop to the mechanic and we were left to obtaining water from leaky cooler. I learned an important life lesson that day. There have been a few times where and extra candy bar or can of soda slide from the machine. Because of Dad's example all those years ago I try to pay for the extra stuff. Sometimes there is no one around, no "mechanic" manning the station. I am then forced to eat the candy bar or drink the pop but Dad, I don't enjoy it at all!
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Cain Chronicles Begins
Greetings Chatters,
Well, Zach first put the bug in my ear about creating a family blogg and here it is. I'm sorry that I am the first one to make an entry and not one of our better family authors like Mom or Sheryl. Anyway the purpose of this blogg is to provide a common space for Cain's blood and adopted to chat, post and update family near and far with whats new or on your mind. It set up so that we all can post as well as comment to posts. We can even add pics! So let me know what you all think.
Happy Chatting
spamber
Well, Zach first put the bug in my ear about creating a family blogg and here it is. I'm sorry that I am the first one to make an entry and not one of our better family authors like Mom or Sheryl. Anyway the purpose of this blogg is to provide a common space for Cain's blood and adopted to chat, post and update family near and far with whats new or on your mind. It set up so that we all can post as well as comment to posts. We can even add pics! So let me know what you all think.
Happy Chatting
spamber
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