Day 12

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

It was a fun time. There was always lots going on. I got small pox while we were living there and learned from the neighbor kids that Santa wasn't real - and also? Moms don’t poop babies out of their butt. 

I also fell asleep once in my mom’s closet after an argument and my mom couldn't find me anywhere. I’ll never forget her expression when I walked into the kitchen – she was sitting at the table with her head in her hands, ready to call the police.

One night, my mom had called me in for dinner but I wouldn't come. I kept yelling, “Five more minutes!” When it was too dark to play, I finally came home – only to find that all the food had been put away. Dinner time was over. 

I was too shocked to cry and was sent to bed without having anything to eat. I opened my window and pitifully called out, “I’m sooooo hungry! And she won’t give me anything to eeeeeat!” 

Day 11

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

I remember sitting on the floor of my mother-in-law’s kitchen that summer she died. I was sitting across from her daughter, my husband’s sister - who I’d known since she was 14-years old.  She was the one to find my mother-in-law, and her grief was palpable. We were looking over the teacup collection together – she’d chose one and then I’d choose one. The siblings were given the task of dividing up the estate into thirds. 

Nothing was written down in regard to who got what – in her letter to her children, she asked them to come together and in the spirit of family decide who got which pieces of furniture, paintings, heirlooms, etc.

It was an amazing time. It was one of the hardest experiences in my life and everything seemed significant, sharper and acute.

One of the pieces of furniture that we brought home was a small mirrored cabinet. It stands on delicate, curved legs and used to contain her figurines and collectibles. It has a key that opens the cabinet and it sticks a little when the door swings open. 

This is where I keep the teacups that my sister-in-law and I divided between us that day. Some of the cups are very ornate with gold details and others are more flowery and girly. We often have dinner parties and the teacups and saucers come out with dessert and coffee. 

I adore my collection, and often rotate the cups that are used so none feel left out. 

Day 10

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

I met a few kids and one of our favorite games was called ‘pet show’.  The housing didn't allow cats or dogs, but smaller animals were okay. One of the girls had a couple of guinea pigs, I had a rat and a cockatiel and another girl had a hamster. We would judge the animals on appearance and whether or not they could do any tricks.

The game was played in the large courtyard that all of the units opened up to, like one large communal backyard. I decided to bring out Bird first. It never occurred to me that he could actually fly. He was standing on the grass with the other contestants when he startled - and in an instant he was gone. 

I remember watching him fly up and around the courtyard...and then he flew out of sight. I had a sick feeling in my stomach. Devastated, I made the long walk of shame back home to tell my mom what had happened. 

Day 9

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

I was crazy bad at math, so my mom hired a tutor to come to the house. I think he was a student at the university – his primary mode of transportation was bicycle. I was game for the first session or two, but after that I would ‘forget’ to be home at our designated torture, I mean…tutor session.  

He was relentless, however. I had been playing with a group of friends at the playground when he rode up, out of breath on his bike. He asked me if I’d forgotten that it was time for my tutoring. I was sheepish – it was so obvious that he’d busted me, “Oops! Yeah. I guess I forgot what day it was…”

He rolled his bike alongside us as we walked back to my apartment. I tried to walk as slowly as possible, and just hoped nobody saw us walking together. One of his pants legs were rolled up, so as not to get the hem of it caught in the bike chain and he carried some sort of satchel across his body. It was probably filled with math problems to torture me with. Since it had taken him awhile to track me down, by the time we finished the torture tutoring session it was dinner time.

To be polite, my mom asked him if he’d like to join us for dinner. He mentioned that he was a vegetarian so I thought I was off the hook when my mom told him we were having steak. To see him go at it, he didn't seem to mind eating the flesh of cows so much after all. Eventually, he stopped coming – mostly because I never showed up.  (Thank god.)

Day 8

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

The PE teacher called me out during attendance for wearing a dirty sweatshirt. She asked me, "Is that a favorite, honey? You won't let Mom wash it?" The sleeves of my sweatshirt were grey with dirt, but I looked at her like she was crazy. My sweatshirt was dirty because we didn't own a washer or dryer and I couldn't be bothered to wash it.  

I imagined the other kid’s moms standing in their big backyards and pinning the wet sheets to the clothesline - while my mom was likely asleep. The act of collecting enough coins, hauling all our clothes to the laundry mat and losing a whole afternoon at the Wash 'n Fun made the task seem insurmountable. The way I looked at it, I was lucky to wear clean underwear daily. A dirty sweatshirt was the least of my worries.

We were required to run the mile weekly. Generally I was in the middle of the pack of girls, but on one day something just clicked. Coming around the final lap, I had managed to stay with the lead runners. My legs burned and my lungs were on fire - but as I rounded the corner for the final 20 feet, it occurred to me that run would be my personal best. I was thinking that the PE teacher would see my time and realize that underneath my dirty clothes, I someone special. And that’s when I tripped.

I fell hard. I scraped my knees and the palms of my hands and managed to chip my front tooth – but the worst part was that I got one of my infamous bloody noses. There was so much blood that it was hard to tell where it was coming from. I had knocked the wind out of myself, which in itself was excruciating – but nothing was as bad as being the center of attention.  I just wanted to crawl away and hide. One of my friends was the nurse’s aide for that period and she ran behind the school nurse, pushing a wheelchair. The nurse wheeled me back to her office, while my friend Julie trotted alongside and held my hand.

After the nurse cleaned me up, she called my mom and told her what happened. My mom told her she’d be down to pick me up in within a half hour. I waited on one of the cots for my mom to come. When Julie came in to check on me, I tried to thank her for being so nice – but when I opened my mouth to say something, my voice caught and some weird noise came out instead. I started to cry. It was so awkward that she just quietly backed out of the room.

Day 7

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

We lived in a small college town, and my mom always had the best parties. She had a group of misfit friends: professors at the university, a pastor, lonely neighbors, co-workers, parents from her after school childcare. We didn't have much, but she opened her home to everyone. 

My mom would prepare elaborate dinners parties that would last late into the night. My favorite parties were the annual Christmas Eve party she threw. The day before Christmas, trees were discounted to almost nothing. My mom would bring home a tree shortly before the party, and guests would bring an ornament to trim the tree. 

One year a few weeks before the party, my mom made dough to make our own ornaments. We rolled out the dough and used cookie cutters to make holiday shapes. One of my favorite ornaments was an angel that my mom made. She had painstakingly rolled out small, oblong beads that she formed from the dough and then pressed each one onto the wings to make individual feathers. It was beautiful.

After that, it was on; we found that making our own ornaments instead of using a cookie cutter was more creative and looked better. I made a  Christmas tree that was decorated with the most elaborate miniature ornaments. It’s a wonder they didn't burn off when it was baked in the oven.

I decided to try rolling out letters. I was going to make an ornament that said Merry Xmas - but it really bothered my mom on the principal of defiling the English language. She took exception with businesses that changed letters in words for their own evil purposes, such as Krispy Kreme doughnuts. 

So we ended up compromising, and I decided to roll out a phrase instead. I tried to roll out letters to form the phrase, HO HO HO - but it was too long and wouldn't stick together right.  So I shortened it to two letters: H, O.

My mom was in fits over it, but never let on what was so humorous about an ornament that spelled ‘Ho’. I felt very clever about the whole thing. I can’t remember if we baked them in the oven first or before when they were still soft – but I painted it orange, just to be contrary. To this day, it’s one of my mom’s most prized ornaments.

Day 6

For each day of November, I am going to post an excerpt of the novel I'm working on for the next 30 days through National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). The goal is to reach 50,000 words in 30 days. And, go!

There was an afternoon where I was having a disagreement in the playground with one of the other girls. I came home to complain about it to my mom (“I’m going to tell my mom on you!”), but my mom wasn't interested in resolving my sandbox problems. She absentmindedly told me to dump sand on the girl’s head.

It was all the confidence I needed. I stomped back out and shoveled sand as fast as I could into a bucket, the girl taunting me all the while, “What are you going to do now, huh? Huh?”  

She was shocked when I poured the entire bucket over her head. There was sand everywhere – in her hair, down her shirt, in her mouth and eyes. This time, she was the one to run home and cry to her mom. 

When she came back, she had a cup of water that she threw at me, literally; but instead of holding onto the cup and letting the water splash me, she'd let go and clocked me in the forehead with it.

Christine and I kept her cup and spent the rest of our playground time making an elaborate drink of nasty berries, sand and water. We were convinced we could get her to drink it.