Monday, August 22, 2022

Takes Me Back

Sunday night, Davis and I were watching The Price is Right reruns. Yeah, you read that right. Sunday is and always has been the worst TV day. As a kid, I remember how long Sunday afternoon was with only the Wide World of Sports, Bob Ross, and Justin Wilson’s Louisiana Cookin’ to entertain us. I “gha-rawn-tee” it was a long afternoon. It was a good thing the comics came in the paper, at least. Anyway, I stumbled across The Price Is Right on Roku. It was young Bob Barker in the days of his dark hair and plaid pants. Y’all know how nostalgic I am. It’s crazy, but the familiar music, buzzers, and voices all made me feel like I was in the 3rd grade- home on the gold plaid couch with a fever and sore throat. All I needed was ravioli and Jell-O on a TV tray with my mother standing over me with pink amoxicillin in a spoon and some makeup worksheets on diagramming sentences sitting nearby. There was something so comforting about watching that. It really took me back. If you all haven’t noticed by now, I look back on my childhood with much cherished delight. 

I loved The Price Is Right and how they’d have all those prizes arranged on those shag carpeted platforms that would turn around to reveal the glorious treasure trove of the latest and greatest. I don’t care what game they were playing, there always seemed to be a grandfather clock or a baker’s rack or an organ on the line. There was a washer and dryer and an electric range up for grabs on this particular episode we were watching. The washer/dryer combo was harvest gold- the range was avocado green and I told Davis they’re all probably still out there working just fine- unlike the ones we buy now. I love a stroll down memory lane and I really enjoyed finding that show. 

Other things from childhood I miss include but are not limited to: Kool-aid popsicles made in Tupperware molds. Digging for prizes in the cereal box. Saturday morning cartoons. Sporting new clothes the first week of school. A fresh minty jar of paste. Circling coveted things in the Sears Christmas Wish Book. Playing in the rain. Neighborhood games of whiffle ball. Spend the night invitations. Brach’s candy counters. Pick up sticks. Cut-off blue jeans and bare feet. Big Wheels. Weekly Readers. The smell of Doritos and duplex cookies in a metal lunchbox. 

What is it about childhood memories that makes them so dear? I think it might be that we like to remember the safety we felt then. A time when we weren’t in charge or responsible for much. If there was something unsettling going on, we were protected from it and were blissful in our ignorance. Someone else was paying the bills. Watching the weather. Keeping up with what size shoe we wore. Shutting off the television when the news was scary. Buying our toothpaste. Making our doctor’s appointments. Scooting us out of the room for serious discussions. Deciding what was best. Our only jobs were to climb trees and ride bikes and maybe vacuum the carpet when company was coming. When we get older, we trade all that play for work and soon we become the person in charge. Other people become dependent on us. With that come responsibility and worry- concepts we’re not too familiar with when we’re young. There’s no longer anyone standing between us and the knowledge of the realities of life. 

I read a story about Corrie Ten Boom today that I loved. As a child, she was traveling on a train with her father and asked him a question which she wasn’t mature enough to have answered yet. “He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise, he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case off the floor and set it back on the floor. ‘Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?’ he said. I stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning. ‘It’s too heavy,’ I said. ‘Yes,’ he said ‘and it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load. It’s the same way with knowledge, Corrie. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you.’” 

I look back and am so grateful for the gift of innocence my parents gave me. They guarded it and shielded me and played defense against anything that would threaten to take it from me before it was time. I grew up and we gave the same effort to giving our kids their due time to just be young and free from worry. We live in a day that seems bent on stuffing kids’ schedules, rushing them ahead, and filling their heads with things that are way beyond their years, I hope we, as the adults in their lives, will stand guard for them. They only get one chance to be little. To be innocent. To be blissfully unaware of the harshness of life. To have free time to do whatever they’d like to do. To enjoy the warm security of knowing that they’re being tended to by people who love them. Childhood may only make up a small percentage of a person’s life, but it will be the time the mind travels back to most. Good or bad. 

I remember when Blair was turning 12, she saw a dollhouse she really wanted. She was still playing with dolls which she kept hidden in her closet in case her friends came to visit. She wasn’t grown enough to be ready to give them up, but she was mature enough to realize it could be a source of ridicule. After talking it over, Davis and I decided to go ahead and get the dollhouse for her 12th birthday even though it seemed late in the game for such a purchase. We didn’t just get the house. We got the furniture, the accessories, the whole family, the pets- the entire expensive deal. Even with the arrival of the teenage years practically within sight, if her heart wanted to frolic in the innocence of childhood for a few more months, we wanted to help her squeeze all the good out of that sweet, once-in-a-lifetime stage. As the song says, “Once you pass its borders, you can never return again.” Sure enough- within the year, the dollhouse and all the sold-separately accessories were put away, but she got all the childhood her heart could hold before she left it behind. 

One of the greatest gifts we can give the children in our lives is to let them be little -all the way up to the time they’re not. May we not let one drop of childhood go to waste. There are so many threats to their innocence that they need us to repel. It’s something worth protecting! 

Have a great week! 

JONI 


Wednesday, August 10, 2022

I’d Like to Tap Out

When I sit down to peck out some posts, I have something on my heart that I want to share. Sometimes, I’m convicted about something. Sometimes, I’m grieving or struggling with an issue and feel like my story might help someone else who’s experiencing or thinking the same thing. Sometimes, in my simpleness, I try to share a Biblical truth that’s on my mind. Ok, well, (sound of record scratching) this post is not any of that. It is in no way meaningful or beneficial or helpful and certainly will have no lasting impact. This story is pure buffoonery and tomfoolery and will require that I use the word, naked, which my mother will certainly not approve of me putting on “the internet.” But, here goes. 

Like most, I enjoy my streaming services. We have Hulu and Prime and I bounce around from one show to another. Over the last few years, I’ve been through Blue Bloods, Downton Abbey, Frasier, Reba, Leave it to Beaver. Deadliest Catch, Mary Tyler Moore, House Hunters, The Bob Newhart Show, Tiny House, Big LivingFlip or FlopDesigning Women, and even Dallas among others. I’m not a fan of much of the current television programming. No, I mostly tend to go back in time with my viewing. And am I the only one who gets kind of attached to the characters and settings of the shows I’m watching and it gets a little hard when I come to the end of the series? 

Well, I watched one show that was really out of character for me. Not the usual type I go for, but I got hooked on Naked and Afraid. There’s that word. Anyway, they drop a man and woman off in the middle of a remote location, usually with the harshest conditions possible, and leave them there with not even the clothes on their backs to survive for 3 weeks. The no clothes thing is to make the conditions as primitive as possible. Yes, there’s a film crew, so they’re not totally alone. Yes, they can tap out at any time. Yes, it’s a reality show and there are a lot of embellishments. Yes, there is a medic on standby. But, enough of it is real that I was fascinated by watching these people in the dreadful conditions of these places. 

So, they take a man and a woman and drop them off in locations like Africa or somewhere in the Amazon jungle or even deep in the Louisiana swamps. They can each bring one item- usually they choose a fire starter and a pot for boiling water/cooking or a machete for slaying food/building shelter. They’ll build a shelter out of things like bamboo and banana leaves- usually off the ground to keep dry and away from varmints. They’ll look for a water source and try to get a fire built so they can boil the water for drinking. Sometimes, they’ll fashion some sort of body coverings by weaving palm fronds and tying them up with vines. They attempt to make shoes with tree bark and some sort of natural cordage. They cover themselves in mud to protect their skin from the burning sun. But, the fun really starts at night when the swarms of mosquitos come out and feast on the ill-equipped campers. The constant buzzing and swarming and itching starts to get in their heads. They don’t get any sleep and start the next day with bites from top to bottom. By day 3 or 4, they start getting really hungry. They try to build fish traps- they rarely work. They may find a snake and chop its head off with their machete and cook him over the fire. Sometimes, they eat worms or crickets or snails or mice or turtles. Usually, by the end of the three weeks, their skin is burned and covered in bites and sores and they’ve not had any sleep and very few calories. As a particular point of interest, they always show the contestants’ weight loss at the end of the show. After eating nothing but, say, a cricket, half of a snake, a couple of snails and 4 drops of honeysuckle juice over the course of three weeks, the man always loses 40 or 45 pounds. Then, they show the poor woman’s results- 7 or 9 pounds. That’s so wrong, ladies. So accurate and so wrong. Anyway, there’s no prize or cash reward for finishing the 21 day test. No, the only recompense for putting yourself through such torture is the ability to say you completed the challenge when you’re making small talk at dinner parties. 

So, the last time the kids were all home, we were looking for something to watch and came across an episode of Naked and Afraid. The kids knew I had watched the series and thought we’d watch an episode- all of us together. Just so you know, there’s nothing vulgar about the show. You’ve not bathed or brushed your teeth or slept or eaten more than a grasshopper for 18 days- the only thing you’re thinking about is pepperoni pizza and memory foam. Anyway, Blair, John Samuel, and Carson were mesmerized. They would never admit it, but they were enjoying it. I guess the draw of it is you put yourself in the situation and try to imagine if you could endure or not. The leeches, the monsoon rains, the severe sunburns, the muscle cramps, the stomach ailments, the heat, the biting insects, the hunger. Um, you can put me down as a NO. 

Fast forward a couple of weeks. I got a text message from Olivia Davis. I don’t know an Olivia Davis, but I began reading her lengthy text. “Hello, Joni. My name is Olivia Davis from Reality Talent. We have recently received your application for the purpose of being cast on Naked and Afraid. Your application passed our initial screening process and we want to invite you to do a further evaluation with us. You can call me back at (xxx) xxx-xxxx to reach my voicemail and enter your access code xxxx to complete your automated interview. This evaluation will only last a few minutes so please be in an area where there is no background noise. Please make sure this interview is completed today if you are looking to move forward. It is an automated interview that takes 5-10 minutes to complete. I have also sent you an email just now, with this information. We look forward to hearing from you.” 

Wait, what? Application?? 

I believe there is a verse in the Bible that says something about children being a blessing from the Lord. Most of the time, that is so very true. Such a dear, dear blessing. Then, there are other times- like when Blair and John Samuel go online and submit an application for me to appear on a show that requires living outdoors with no clothing. Just a fire starter and a machete and whatever I can chase down to eat. They shared with me the bio they’d submitted. It really made me sound impressive- and, oh, so confident in my outdoor skills that Lauren Davis texted me-not once- but twice in one day urging me to get back with them. They must have thought the “blogger, mom of 2” would make a really good episode. It would be the shortest episode for sure. 

I responded to Lauren’s persistent pleas by saying I’d had a change in circumstances that would prevent me from participating. I did thank her for contacting me and for the opportunity. 

Last weekend, Davis sent us all a picture of an almost 6’ rattlesnake he killed that had 17 rattles from his day spent in the country. Blair and John Samuel responded to the group text by suggesting I practice for the show by skinning it, cooking it over our fire pit, and fashioning some shoes from its tanned skin. They continue to be a blessing in my life. Carson will inherit all that I have. He is innocent in this shenanigan. He is my favorite. 

There is no beneficial wisdom we can gain by this post. I can’t tie this story in with anything worthwhile. There is no lesson to be garnered from it. No, I just wanted you to know that if I had wanted to, I could have been on the reality show, Naked and Afraid. At least, for about 15 minutes until I tapped out or called for the medic. I should have called their bluff. I may have been the one naked, but they’d be the ones afraid. Terrified. There are those who long to commune with nature and live among its elements in the barest of conditions. And there are those who thrive when surrounded with ductwork coming from systems designed to control humidity, temperature, and ventilation by maintaining a cool atmosphere in warm conditions. I am of the latter people group. I’ll find something else to talk about at dinner parties. 

We’ll celebrate the birthdays of Blair and John Samuel this weekend. I’m awfully grateful for the fun they bring to our family. 
Y’all have a great day! 

JONI 
Indoor Survivalist 





Thursday, August 4, 2022

This Is the Day

Well, today was back to school around these parts. Facebook posts were aplenty of kids dressed and ready for their first day of school with their brand new shoes, lunchboxes, and backpacks. All the children were looking just a little more put together than they will, say, a week from now when they have Pop-tart goo on their faces and a nasty case of bed head hair. I remember that first day excitement the parents have, too. Happy to get those kids back in school and in a routine. A few weeks of kids declaring their boredom and half-empty drink bottles sitting all over the house and the sheen of summer break starts to dull. The same excitement parents felt about school getting out in May is replaced with an equal enthusiasm about school being back in session in August. 

I remember back in the winter, I’d hear the constant groaning of my heat-loving friends who proclaimed they couldn’t wait for the long, steamy days of summer. In the chill of the winter winds, the human lizards among us were wishing for the blazing humidity of the southern summer to warm their frigid bones. As we enter month three of a record breaking season, which has not been fit for human habitation, I haven’t heard one peep from them on how much they’re enjoying this, their long-anticipated weather. Nobody is making any moving tributes to this heat. Nobody is celebrating the arrival of its life-threatening warm grasp. No, now that it’s here, they’re looking forward to pumpkin spice and a major cool down. On the flip side, even I, the staunchest winter supporter, admit to wishing for a sunny, warm day when the gloominess of February seems to stretch out forever. 

Remember when we were young teenagers and we couldn’t wait until we would grow up and have all the freedoms to do more things independently. We were ready to forge ahead to the next phase and embrace all the amenities that adulthood had to offer. As girls, we’d draw and color pictures of the houses we wanted to live in and we’d come up with the names for the children we wanted to have. We see how that turned out. We grow up and spend the rest of our days daydreaming at work about the carefree days of our childhood and wishing we could go back to that simpler, responsibility-free stage of life- before we had the mortgage on that house we’d drawn and and car insurance on all those children we named.  

We’re always so excited to get the Christmas decorations up- sometimes, not even waiting until Thanksgiving. Before Christmas is even over, we start thinking about how fast we can get them all back into the attic and get things back to normal. We want to just get our kids out of diapers or grown enough to get in and out of the car on their own power or just get old enough to drive themselves to school. Then, we mourn the days when they were little and cute and mispronounced words and really needed us. We look forward to when we’re having guests and anticipate their arrival with lots of planning and grocery shopping. We’re so excited to see them drive into the driveway but, in a few days’ time, we’re ready to see some taillights and get back to our normal routine. The long-awaited retirement can surprise us with the emptiness of missing our work and camaraderie. And even the most anticipated trips and vacations usually draw to their close with a growing desire to be back in the familiar comforts of home. 

What is it that keeps us looking to the next thing? There’s a constant temptation to look ahead and see how another day down the road might be better than this one we’re living now. Almost always, when we get to that day or season or stage that we’d been romanticizing, we end up grieving for the time we let pass by while our mind was wandering. Life happens in this day. Our love and attention are needed in this moment. Memories and growth happen in this season. “This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.” 

“Happiness, not in another place, but this place….not for another hour, but this hour.”  Walt Whitman

Happy Weekend to you all! 

JONI 


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