April's Real Blog

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Mom and Gramps and Nature

Mike had this 2 say abt the next installment of his reminiscing over fotos w/Merrie:
April,

Formerly little sis. It is interesting how nature can change the mood of things. Just yesterday I was showing my daughter pictures of my trip to Vancouver to visit Grampa Jim and Gramma Marian, and after 2 weeks of the visit it seemed like mom and our grandparents were getting on each others’ nerves. Then today I had 4 more pictures to show to my daughter which turned all of that around.

In the first picture, mom, who desperately needs to pull up her pants, is walking beside Grampa Jim, who has Lizzie on his back in a backpack which seems to consist solely of shoulder straps. They are walking by a stream in the outdoors with lots of pine trees. Across the stream way in the background, 2 giant silhouetted unicorns prepared for battle, but nobody seemed to notice them. I was beside the stream reaching for stream rocks. I know you might be thinking I could end up injuring my eyes with those rocks, but not to fear formerly little sis, I did not have any eyes at that moment, showing that our Patterson tendency to have eyes mysteriously and unexpectedly disappear was a trait that occurred even at an early age. Grampa Jim’s word balloon said, “Sigh—You’ll be back in Toronto soon.---These visits are just too short.” My daughter said, “I thought Grampa Jim was mad at Gramma Elly for yelling at him about his smoking.” I said, “That only lasted as long as Grampa Jim smoked his cigarettes and during the long coughing fits he had from smoking them. Otherwise, Grampa Jim and mom got along great.” My daughter said, “Huh?”

In the next picture, Grampa Jim has apparently taken off the backpack and Lizzie, while he and mom are sitting on a fallen tree together. Lizzie is in front of them either tasting or licking dirt. In the background, I have found my stream rocks and thrown them skyward, I think in an attempt to appease the stream gods to get my eyes back. Grampa Jim’s word balloon says, “Seems like yesterday you were as small as Elizabeth.” My daughter said, “Why do old people say that?” I said, “Say what?” She said, “’Seems like yesterday’ for things a long time ago.” I said, “When you get old, you lose your short term memory.” My daughter said, “What’s a short term memory?” I said, “It’s the things you remember that just happened yesterday. When you forget them, then the things a long time ago seem like they happened yesterday. Understand?” My daughter said, “No, daddy. Forget I asked.” I said, “Asked what?” My daughter said, “Huh?”

In the next picture, I can see mom and Grampa Jim still sitting on the log and staring at each other. Mom has her arms crossed in front of her breasts and Grampa Jim’s face seems a little flushed. Lizzie has taken dirt and put it in her hair, while I am slowly sneaking up on her. I can sneak up on her, because the stream gods granted my request to get my eyes back. The word balloon from mom’s mouth says, “You still think of me as your little girl, don’t you, dad?” You know, formerly little sis, I really don’t want to think about why mom is protecting her breasts and Grampa Jim’s face looks flushed, after that statement. My daughter said, “What does that mean, daddy?” I said, “Daddies remember their daughters when they were little and cute, even when they are older and not so cute.” My daughter said, “Oh! When I am old, you will think of me like I am now?” I said to her, “Daughter, with your facial features as they are now, you will probably not look much different when you are older.” My daughter said, “Huh?”

In the last picture, mom and Grampa Jim are still on the fallen log, but now it looks like our friend, Good Ol’ Charlie Brown put on a wig and mom’s clothes for the picture where she hugs Grampa Jim. Mom used to say that she sometimes used a stunt double for pictures she had taken hugging Grampa Jim, and it looks like that’s what happened in this one. In the foreground, I am putting dirt in Lizzie’s hair, just like she put dirt in her own hair. I look pleased. She looks startled. I think this is because Lizzie planned to put more dirt in her own hair, and I beat her to it. The word balloon coming out of Grampa Jim’s mouth is “No---but if you’re allowed to grow up, I’m allowed to get mushy about it.” I am not sure what “mushy” meant for Grampa Jim, but it might be the “mushy” way his eyeballs are positioned on his head, or the “mushy” way he grew a left breast. My daughter said, “Oh. Grampa Jim is sad Gramma Elly is old.” I said, “Aren’t we all?” My daughter said, “Huh?”

More tomorrow, formerly little sis.

Love,
Michael Patterson
Hm, I shd hire a stunt dbl 4 fotos. I'd have so much time 4 other stuff, and Mom is such a terrible fotog., she alwayz finds the most unflattering poss angles 4 her shots. MayB if I cd get that girl Grace, who's friends w/Shannon, 2 wear a wig w/my hairdo and colour?

And yeah, pretty much every1 is sad that Mom is old and not-cute.

Apes

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10 Comments:

  • At 8:53 AM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    What is it with your family and second children eating dirt? First Liz, now Robin. Does this mean he'll spend his life whining about who's guiding him, then? Always being in Meredith's shadow? As for Jim getting peeved that Elly shot down his attempt at being treacly, we've really got the pot calling the kettle black. After all, she managed to convince you that prayer and prairie have more in common than their sound.

     
  • At 1:34 PM, Anonymous Michael Patterson said…

    Dreadedcandiru2,

    Supervillain Amazonian catfish. Your comment makes it necessary to point out a few differences between my son and my slightly younger little sis, Elizabeth.

    Little Lizzie ate dirt of her own free will, but my son was tricked into it by his older sister. There is no shame in being tricked into situations by women. When you are ready to go with your other catfish buddies to spawn, you may have to be careful that you are not tricked by a female catfish whose eggs have been unexpected fertilized to keep you from going on that spawning trip. Watch out, catfish!

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 2:42 PM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    Well, that attitude explains a heck of a lot, doesn't it, pally boy? Being a willing patsy certainly made your marriage a walk in the park -- especially given your tendency to stare straight ahead at all times.

     
  • At 4:33 PM, Anonymous michael patterson said…

    Dreadedcandiru2,

    Supervillain Amazonian catfish. As a matter of fact, I have gone on a walk in the park with my wife and family rather recently. You wouldn’t be-leaf how much fun it is. However, I followed the trails and I didn’t go straight ahead as you suggested. That way you don’t get lost, and there’s nothing worse than getting lost in a park, and having your wife send your son to find you. I suppose you and your Candirú spawning partner can’t actually make your marriage a walk in the park. Perhaps you can do a swim in the river.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 5:42 PM, Blogger DreadedCandiru2 said…

    Ha, ha. Let's get back to the story you were telling, shall we? About Elly and Jim? She may no longer be young and cute but she still acts like she'd question a free lunch. Am I off base in suggesting it was her who had you dig into Anthony and Therese's background? I mean, it's not like you'd do that of your own volition because we both know you aren't really that interested in his life.

     
  • At 6:37 PM, Anonymous Michael Patterson said…

    Dreadedcandiru2,

    Supervillain Amazonian catfish. Let me assure you of one thing about mom, when it comes to free food there are no questions, it doesn’t matter if it is breakfast, lunch, dinner, or snacks. As for digging into Anthony and his Quebecoise ex-wife’s background, that was actually more for mom’s web designer, Stephanie. Up until last month, we had to do these monthly family letters and every time Elizabeth was asked to put in something about Anthony, she refused to do it for personal reasons. So, it was left up to me. I had to include a mention about Anthony’s marital life every time I mentioned what was going on Gordon and Tracey Mayes’ life. More recently the web designer put together a whole thing with all the little details about . She knows more about it than I do, but Elizabeth generally thinks of me, because of the letters I wrote about Anthony in January, June, and December, 2005.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 8:01 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    howard. weird thing @ school 2day. checked my makeup in the washroom mirror @ school, and lirpa wrote this on the mirror:

    .jeremy sekil ymerej kniht t'nod i

    odd, eh?

    apes

     
  • At 9:58 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    Well now I am confused. Is it some kind of palindrome?

    Love,
    Howard Bunt

     
  • At 10:01 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    mayB both jeremies r in lirpa's world and they don't get along?

    apes

     
  • At 1:45 AM, Anonymous michael patterson said…

    April,

    Formerly little sis. In the next pictures I showed my daughter from my trip to Vancouver it was pictures of us coming home.

    The first picture is of mom with really bushy eyebrows coming through the door of our house and saying, “Whew What a trip!”, as dad is holding on to Elizabeth. The script mom gave me with the pictures says, “It was fun to visit Grandpa Jim and Grandma Marian, but it was good to get home.” My daughter said, “Grampa Jim. Gramma Marian.” I said, “I know. I know.” My daughter looked at the picture and said, “Where are you, daddy?” Once again my observant daughter noticed a particular aspect of the picture which I was not so anxious to tell in my story. I said, “I’m around there somewhere.” My daughter said, “Are you in the next pictures you have?” I said, “Most likely.” My daughter took them out of my hand and said, “You’re not there, Daddy. Where were you?” I said, “Well, daughter. This won’t make Gramma Elly look very good, but she forgot me. She was so tired from packing up suitcases for the trip back; she didn’t check I wasn’t on the plane with her.” My daughter said, “What happened?” I said, “I got to take the next plane, and Dad had to drive to the airport to get me, even though he didn’t want to.” My daughter said, “Why not?” I said, “Mom was being really nice to Dad because of some cleaning he did, and he didn’t want her to stop.” My daughter said, “’Really nice.’ What does that mean?” I said, “Let’s look at the next picture.”

    In the next picture, mom has turned to a silhouette looking at the kitchen. The word balloon coming out of her is “John—You cleaned up the entire house!” My daughter said, “That’s not the entire house. That’s the kitchen.” I said, “Well, to mom, it was the entire house.” My daughter said, “Doesn’t she know the difference?” I said, “Back in those days, no. Daughter, you know your Gramma Elly as a super cleaner, but when she was younger, she was very messy.” My daughter said, “Daddy. Are you lying to me?” I said, “No, daughter. Just think of how your Auntie Liz is now.” My daughter said, “Poor daddy.” I said, “I know. I know.”

    In the next picture, mom is hugging dad and has her arms around his neck, while dad returns the embrace. It is a really strange picture, because it reminds me mom and dad used to actually do that. Dad has a thought balloon which says, “Some things one does as a means to survival…” My daughter said, “What does that mean—‘means to survival’.” I said, “It means, “a way to live through a bad thing happening.” My daughter said, “What bad thing?” I said, “How mom would have acted if she came home and the house wasn’t clean.” My daughter said, “But the house wasn’t clean. Just the kitchen.” I said, “OK. OK. If mom came home and the kitchen wasn’t clean.” My daughter said, “What bad thing would happen?” I said, “You remember how I talked about how Grampa Jim had to tell me he was going to blow up the TV to get me to let him read me a book?” My daughter said, “Yes.” I said, “Like that, except instead of a big explosion, it would be mom screaming at the top of her lungs.” My daughter said, “Ouch! Daddy! You mean Grampa John wanted to keep Gramma Elly from screaming? That’s why he cleaned the kitchen?” I said, “Yes. When I was growing up, we did whatever we could to keep mom from screaming.” My daughter said, “Poor daddy.” I said, “I know. I know.”

    My daughter said, “But Daddy. Aren’t you going to show me some pictures of Gramma Marian being great?” I said, “I already showed you those.” My daughter said, “No you didn’t.” I said, “Yes I did. I showed you Gramma Marian picking us up from the airport. I showed you Gramma Marian knitting and talking to mom. I showed you Gramma Marian looking at Grampa Jim read us a book. I showed you Gramma Marian playing with Lizzie. I showed you Gramma Marian getting in a fight with mom.” My daughter said, “That’s other people. The only thing she did with you was pick you up from an airport.” I said to my daughter, “Sometimes the mark of greatness is picking someone up from the airport. My daughter said, “Huh?”

    More tomorrow, formerly little sis.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     

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