Our Memories

****Are They Fact or Fiction***

There are times when I think God gave me a very prolific memory. I remember the color of the dress I wore to the eighth grade pepster "dance" at Prescott...shh, don't tell anyone it was a DANCE. Some of you remember the one, it was white with a sheer green over skirt. I wore it when I won the twist contest with Vic Polito....shh, don't tell that either, my dad might get upset, and my mom (who didn't know we were a "date") would lecture me about what nice girls do and don't do. Dancing of course was not a nice thing.

I remember climbing the magnolia tree in Myra's front yard, along with her help, and breaking off the lowest branch and then hiding it under the front of the house. Well hidden there, what, two or three feet off the ground? I think I remember wishing we had hauled it off and put it under someone else's house, maybe blocks away. And then I sorta, kinda, remember blaming it on Cathy, ...uh surely not.

You know there seems to be a vague memory of a game we played at night (when my parents didn't realize it was dark outside) called sardines. Not one person hiding their eyes while everyone found their own place to hide. No, everyone ran off in different directions to hide and when one found another, they hid together, then number two came along and hid there as well. Soon you had every one in the same space, like on the ditch bank behind my house waiting for the last one to find us all.

Baseball with the tin can and big stick in the street under the street lights.......Until someone had to go to the bathroom, then the parents started looking for us all and made us come in.

Oh, the best memories I have are of holidays. The ones that involved food. Funny, huh, they all did.

Back then we could go for miles on trick-or-treat and bring home grocery bags of candy and eat it right on the side of the street. No trips to the ER to have it all x-rayed.

I loved that Thanksgiving came just five weeks before Christmas. Aunt Marion started making all those yummy desserts and stored them on the hutch in the dinning room. My eyes were always sneaking peeks to what was new.

Then the Christmas tree went up on December 15th and presents started going under it, without names. Sam, remember the time we shook every package and put them back not knowing mom had placed everyone's in a certain place. I was so upset because I got boys socks and you looked really funny when you had to model "step outs". On Christmas eve we all went to grandma Abbott's and everyone got a present).

Then New Years Eve came and the holidays started over for another year. Those were the best years.

Myra, Sam, Jerry, Valmond, Wayne, do y'all remember when it became our turns to take over doing the celebrations? Planning the menus, buying the presents, cleaning before and after the party, somehow some of the magic was gone. Of course, I still love that time of year.

I have a memory of Nannie just beating the tar out of Myra and Cathy with a baby bed slat. Of course the slat was made for a doll bed and was not more than 1/4 of an inch thick and made of balsa wood or something like it. Needless to say, I tried never to "get caught" doing what Myra was doing.

I remember Unc making me stand behind one door and Sam another because we were laughing (of all things) and maybe screaming and calling each other names, or even running in the house, but this is my blog so I get to remember it the way it happened, in MY happy dreams. I really do think it was Sam's fault.

I remember an out of town Istrouma football game we went to on the bus to Bogalousa (SP) I do think we were all on that bus. Myra, June, Me, Sam, the Dantoni and Polito boys, as my dad called them (at least that's what we'll say he called them). I do believe that was the only time I deliberately lied to my dad. I think he paid Sam's way to the game so he would check up on us.

I wish I had pictures for this blog, but I don't. If anyone does, please figure out a way to post them. Everyone of you are precious to me and the memories are so fun.

Thanks for being my partners in a beautiful life.

Celebrating Cheyenne

DINNER WITH CHEY
**SIX YEARS OLD**

Monday night Cheyenne and Nana went out to dinner and then went shopping for her birthday present. Since papaw and I were out of town when she actually had her party, she asked what day we were going to get her present. Papaw laughed because he knew he would be working. If you have never had the pleasure of meeting Cheyenne Ranay Stanley (or as she use to introduce herself, Cheynan Standley), you are in for a surprise.

This little girl started wowing people everywhere when she was about eighteen months old. She took the trophies in several beauty pageants and has the crowns to go with them. I think the best thing she came out of it with was her beautiful smile, not to mention that she is a princess.
In so many ways she reminds me of her mom. Her bright eyes, her beautiful complexion, her nurturing nature and love for others, and her desire to "do it right". She has the softest smoochy lips and biggest brown eyes.

Cheyenne isn't quite the talker Zackary is but they have been best friends from her first appearance in this world. He plays the knight in shining armor, and she plays the princess or fair maiden roles perfectly. She can play for hours alone, if the need arises, but she is a social bug as well. Chey wants to be a rock star when she grows up

Anyway, back to the birthday dinner. When I asked her what she wanted for dinner she smiled and said, "well, I guess you can have salad" that meant McDonald's and Chicken Nuggets for Chey, OR "we could have yummy Green Sauce and chips"(that meant Casa Ole). Not a hard choice, Mexican food it would be. After she ate all of her bean-rice (one word) I surprised her with the Casa gang singing Happy Birthday to her and they gave her a huge sundae in a waffle bowl. Guess who ate most of the sundae?

She then had a choice of where to go to pick out her birthday present. She had twenty dollars to spend and chose Wal-Mart, of all places. I would have chosen the mall or Kirkland's or maybe even Hobby Lobby, oh the choices of youth.

I just knew she would choose a Barbie, or Hannah Montana or some glamour doll or even an outfit. No. She chose a baby doll that drinks a bottle and is not yet potty trained. Yeah! She really is a little mother hen.

How quickly they grow up and how easily they steal your heart.

Nana Loves You, Chey Baby.