Author: jeanniebruenning

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Getting ready

A few months ago I decided to let my hair go natural; natural being gray. I started by getting a short cut. Then each weekend for several months I set up my personal salon on the back deck, complete with scissors, comb and mirror. I would strategically snipped off the remaining brown ends until all that remained was my natural color.

Yesterday, on my 53rd birthday two women came into my store. Both appeared to be in their late 70’s early 80’s, and both with very colored treated hair. I made my way over to greet them. “Good morning,” I said.

“I love your hair,” one said. I couldn’t help but smile as I was the one standing there with graying hair and she was bleach-blond.

“Thanks,” I said, “I decided to let it go before Christmas. I really like it.”

“I’m getting ready to do that,” she said. I laughed.

“Yes,” her friend chimed in, “But you have to have a face for that.” Again I laughed.

“I’m not sure about that,” I assured.

“No,” she continued, “You do. Not everyone can pull that off.”

“I’m going to do it,” the first said with great confidence.

The two friends made their way around the store and as they headed toward the door I heard a faint, “I’m going home to cut my hair.”

As they made their way through the front doors I couldn’t help but think, I wonder what I’ll be getting ready to do when I’m 80?

head shot blue

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Colorado Conversations

Jeff (Hoppie) and I (Neenee) made a trip to Denver this weekend. As usual the conversation was entertaining…

Hoppie had just come in the house to find a bucket to clean off some mud frozen to the deck. After following Austyn’s instructions he walked out the back door, bucket in hand.

Hoppie: Now Liam, I’m going to do something that I don’t want you ever to try. OK?

Liam: What?

Hoppie: I’m going to do something over here that I don’t want you to ever do. OK?

Neenee (from inside the house): This can’t be good.

Austyn: Nope.

 

One of many random conversations…

Liam: You’re between.

Neenee: Between what?

Liam: You’re between new and old.

Neenee: Thanks! I like being between. Hey Hoppie, Liam says we are between.

Hoppie: Between is good.

Neenee: What’s Mommy?

Liam: She’s … an old kid. Emery and I are new kids, but she’s an old one.

 

 Liam coughing in Hoppie’s ear during reading time…

Hoppie: Liam, please cover your mouth. I think you should just keep your hand over your mouth all the time.

Liam (with hand over mouth): I can’t do that, how will I eat?

 

Lite Lunch Conversation

Elin (with eyes wide open and as dramatic and she could be, which will win her an Oscar one day): Sage and I watched a video and it was really scary. The girl was OBSESSED!

Hoppie: Obsessed? That’s a big word.

Elin: YES SHE WAS OBSESSED!

Neenee: What does it mean to be obsessed?

Elin (pointing to her eyes): That’s when your eye’s are yellow.

Hoppie: You mean possessed?

Elin: It was so scary! I said NO! NO! NO MORE VIDEO!!

Neenee: That’s good. You shouldn’t watch videos where people are obsessed.

Raun: When did you see this video…..

 

Bedtime reading

Hoppie opened the big bible store book at the beginning:

Liam: That’s the awful part.

Neenee: The awful part? Don’t you like those stories?

Liam: They kill people when there’s too many.

Hoppie: Let’s read from the other part. There was a man who was born blind. His friend’s asked Jesus what his parents did to make him blind?…This is awful, who writes this crap?

Neenee: Keep reading, hopefully they correct it on the next page.

Hoppie: Here, let’s read this book. The Pigeon Drives the bus.

 

My Bedtime Prayer: Thank you God for making my family so entertaining that all I have to do is listen!

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What goes around…

This morning I read a post my daughter wrote describing life at her house with two children who are very early risers. I had to chuckle as I recalled many early mornings when I would roll over in bed to find her laying between us. She would either be staring up or into my face.  I never figured out how she got there without waking either of us up.

On one of these early mornings I asked if she would like to get up and go to the grocery store. She looked at me with great question and asked, “They fleep there?” Austyn’s ‘sl’ were ‘fl’ for sometime. “No,” I explained, “they work all night.” With even bigger eyes she asked, “They don’t fleep!?”

Our son has been blessed with a night owl who rarely approaches bedtime gracefully. He has spent weeks of his life getting her to sleep. I said one day, “do you know how many hours I spent getting you to sleep?” To his response, “Do you know how many hours I waiting for you to fall asleep?” This was the kid we tied into bed – don’t ask.

There’s an old saying, what goes around comes around. In my old age I’ve come to believe our entire world is based on this. It’s the what you sow you shall reap law. We  experience life from both sides – the sower and the reaper.

It’s 5:25 am, I’ve been up since 4 but the grocery store doesn’t open till 6 – I too was blessed with the early morning gene.

What goes around, comes around….I believe I hear someone knocking at the door….

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She’s a fighter!

Jeff and I made our way from the waiting area to the delivery room in hopes of one last visit before she would deliver. Finding the door closed we pressed our ears up against it only to hear the voices of several in the room. We were too late, the baby was coming.

We were living an event 4 months too early. This expected day should have been happening in future, after the holidays, sometime in late February – not today, not November 6th. Unsure if we should return to the waiting area or stay where we were, we leaned back against the wall, held each other’s hand and waited.

We didn’t have to wait long, It was a quick deliver, and within minutes we could hear the commotion in the room growing. The door opened slightly allowing a nurse to exit. She was beaming with excitement, her fists clenched in front of her as if she was boxing or getting ready to cheer. Glancing at us she said, “she’s breathing on her own, she’s a fighter.” As she spoke she popped a little punch into the air.  She made us smile.

A few hours later we walked into the NICU to see for the first time Emery Rain Ford – 1 pound 10 ounces, small enough to lay on a sheet of paper and born 16 weeks early. One wouldn’t think that 1 pound 10 ounces of fight is very much – but apparently it is.

Happy third birthday Emery Rain Ford.

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The Confessional

My grandson has a new attachment – his baseball cap. He looks adorable in it and doesn’t leave the house without it. During a recent visit I heard him yelling from the downstairs, “I can’t find it!”

“It’s by the dryer,” his mother called back.

“Whats he looking for?” I asked.

“His hat,” mom replied.

“I’ll go help him,” I said as I headed for the stairs.

As I opened the door I saw this four-year old standing in front of the dryer with his arms spread out. “I can’t find it,” he said. I pointed to the brown brim that was peeking out from a pile of clothes. Liam picked it up and put it on his head. I held the door open for him and he began to climb the stairs. “I wear my hat because I don’t like my haircut,” I heard him say.

Placing my hand on his shoulder I inquired, “Did you tell mom that?”

“No” he responded quietly.

“Oh honey, you can tell mom anything.” By now we were at the top of the stairs with mom in our view. I directed Liam toward her. When she saw Liam begin wiping his eyes and his bottom lip quiver, she quickly ended a phone call and gave us her complete attention. “Liam has been wearing his hat because he doesn’t like his haircut,” I repeated.

That was it, the flood gates burst open and Liam began to unload this great burden he had been carrying the past few weeks. The next morning – well before anyone else was awake –  he and I sat on the sofa watching TV. I looked at him and said, “Liam, I think your hair grew last night!”

His small hands reached to the top of his head and he began measuring his hair length. His smile was priceless as his eye lit up. “It did!” he said.

“See, it won’t be long until it’s all grown back,” I confirmed. I love being Liam’s confessional.

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Cookie Mush

When our oldest son Raun was less than one year, Jeff and I decided to load up the truck and move to North Carolina. I was familiar with NC because I had spent my teen summers working at a youth camp my aunt and uncle were responsible for. My uncle was the founder and director and my aunt ran the kitchen. It was shortly after we arrived that Aunt Meryle and I were discussing what title she would like Raun to call her. Would she be Auntie, Aunt, Meryle…? Meryle thought for a moment and then replied, “Granny. I like Granny Meryle!” That was 31 years ago, to this day she is still lovingly referred to as Granny Meryle.

In 2010 I spent a few weeks with Meryle in her home in Charlotte NC, a place I knew very well. We looked at pictures, talked about the past as we worked to begin the process of cleaning out her home. I returned home with my grandfather’s pocket watch, pictures of my mom and aunt Meryle, some linens, my favorite red dinnerware that I had fallen in love with 30 years ago as well as pieces from my grandparents wedding china; but the most precious box that accompanied me home was the one containing the recipes, cookbook and menu planners that Meryle had used over the last 40 some years in the camp kitchen.

Granny Meryle left this world on September 1, today we will be celebrating her life.  I’ve looked at that box of recipes for 3 years, scanned many into my computer, and retyped those that were too worn and used to read. It seems fitting to share this history with other. It seems fitting to share them now in honor of her. For the next year, I will be posting a selection of those treasures that are contained in that box on a site called:  CookieMush.com. 

Please join me ~

Jeannie Meryle Bruenning