family | BulgingButtons

March 18, 2016
by BulgingButtons 9 Comments

Road Trip!

hollywood-1600x1200 My boy and I took off over spring break. Just the two of us. We hit the road, and stayed in a posh “old” Hollywood Hotel that stretched the limits of my budget, but you know what? I didn’t care.

On the way there, we stopped at the Patton Museum out in the California desert. It’s a cool little museum with a massive topographical map of the region and an impressive display of tanks and other military vehicles. My son loved it as much as his father does. I sent his dad some pictures, and he was thrilled that I took him. I’m glad we stopped there. It was informative, and a nice break along the way.

Once in Los Angeles, we spent a day at Universal Studios. We were surprised when we got a sneak peek at the whole Harry Potter section, which isn’t scheduled to open until next month. Boy was it fun! Hogwarts Castle is fantastic, and even though I was too fat to actually ride the roller coaster (yes, it’s true) I still LOVED going through the castle (designed to accommodate a long line, but we zipped through it – in fact we zipped through all the lines).

I felt bad for my son about the fat thing, but he didn’t want to ride without me so he missed a few rides (two in Harry Potter land and the Mummy). We had a blast on just about everything else though, even if I did feel a little squished in most of them. Lucky for me he’s a good sport, and didn’t make me feel bad at all about my fatness. He’s a keeper.

We also did the tourist thing at Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum, and had a ball posing with the wax figures. It was fun to be with him and let our hair down. Superheroes? Got ’em. Pop stars? Yep. Sports figures? Politicians? Actors? They’re all there. AudreyHepburnAtMadameTussaudsHollywood I had breakfast with Audrey Hepburn and he putted with Tiger Woods. We sent home photos of Forrest Gump and Lawrence of Arabia. I even shelled out for the silly green screen photos they took of us escaping a dinosaur attack.

We also ate on our trip. Boy did we eat. I had a voucher for the hotel, and we ate one “fancy” meal there. Striped bass with vegetables and fried stuffed squash blossoms. Delish. We also had the most delicious burgers at a place that was so good we went twice. And then there was the sundae. Oh. My. Gawd. The Ghiardelli chocolate people have an ice cream parlor right on Hollywood Boulevard, and they have the most heavenly concoctions imaginable. The ingredients are top notch, and the whole experience is a lot of fun. Just thinking about it has me craving another sea salt caramel hot fudge sundae.

doheny-memorial-library-usc The good news is that we got some exercise too. We hoofed it around the LaBrea Tar Pits, the LA Farmer’s Market, and USC’s campus, not to mention all the miles at Universal Studio and along the Walk of Fame. I even swam laps in the post hotel pool (sight of a Marilyn Monroe photo shoot long ago, I’m told).

I don’t know if it’s the last trip my son and I will get to take together as he prepares to fly the nest, but it was certainly a good one. I’m so glad we splurged and spent a few days living the high life. In the end I won’t remember the cost, just the time spent with my son enjoying each other’s company.

December 1, 2015
by BulgingButtons 4 Comments

Why A Charlie Brown Christmas Made Me Cry

So A Charlie Brown Christmas is 50 years old. It’s just a few months older than I am. Last night there was a lovely t.v. special about its history, followed by the show itself, so naturally I watched, being the Christmas fan that I am.

Now normally this particular show doesn’t make me cry. Oh sure, it tugs at the old heartstrings, but crying? Nope, not for this one. Until last night.

For some reason, when they were talking about some of the music and showing a scene of Charlie Brown and Linus walking down the street at night, it hit me. I was transported back to the winter of my childhood, and my own snowy street at night. My companion, however, was my father.

Most of my winter memories are of freezing cold, gloom, and inconvenience. I’m not a fan of winter weather, even a little. But last night, something shifted. As I watched those animated snowflakes fall, I remembered what it was like to go for a walk with my father in the winter, moonlight reflecting off the snow. I remembered the stillness, and the chill on my face. I remember him holding my mittened hand in his gloved one. I remembered the feeling that we were the only two people on Earth, and how much I liked that. I remembered the warm glow from the windows of our neighbors houses, and the fun of running ahead a few feet and sliding. I remembered snow angels.

I remembered that my childhood was full of simple, yet magical moments, and that I was loved. A few minutes of A Charlie Brown Christmas dislodged those memories from whatever deep freeze was holding them, and for that I’m grateful.

November 26, 2015
by BulgingButtons 2 Comments

Thanksgiving Memories – originally posted 2013

I’m seven years old. Cousin Frankie is visiting from South Africa. He’s my mother’s cousin and he’s over six feet tall. I come from a family of rather short people (not me, I’m adopted) and in this crowd he’s a giant. He lifts me to his shoulders. I am queen of the world. He gives me a whisker rub. He leaves me with a gold bracelet with my name engraved on it. I love cousin Frankie.

I don’t know exactly what year it is, but it’s the early 1970’s. I am wearing a long lavender dress. Long dresses are in fashion. We eat Thanksgiving dinner in a lovely large room at a country club. I will, many years later, hold my wedding reception in this same room at this same country club. I will wear a long dress that day too, but it will be white.

For many years in a row there is Thanksgiving dinner at my mother’s dining room table. She carves the turkey in the kitchen with the electric knife. It sounds as though there is a horror movie being filmed. We don’t dare enter. My grandmother brings the dressing, an old German recipe. It is delicious and like nothing else I have ever eaten. One year, in my early adulthood, she asks me what I would like for Hanukkah. I tell her I would like that recipe. She writes it for me in her spiky German inspired script. I treasure it, but cannot reproduce it.

I am a college student, on a study abroad semester in Great Britain. I miss my family and I miss the sound of English without a British accent and I miss salsa. I buy a plane ticket home for Thanksgiving. My father is furious at the idea but gives me the biggest hug of anyone at the airport. It was worth the money for that memory. I returned after a week much happier and much better adjusted. It was worth the money for the peace of mind.

We’ve recently moved away from family, the boyfriend (future ex-husband) and me. His brother and a friend live with us. Their grandfather and his crazy wife are in town. The four of us young people manage to cook our first Thanksgiving meal, and our elderly guests enjoy it greatly, as do we. The green bean casserole turns out too peppery, but other than that it is perfect, and Leon Lett doesn’t score his touchdown. I love that.

My son is small and his uncle is in town (father’s brother) as is his aunt (father’s step-sister). We hold Thanksgiving at our house (as has become tradition) and decide to do it on the back patio. It is a gorgeous warm day and we have a wonderful holiday.

I am in the midst of my divorce. We want to keep things as normal as possible for our 12 year old so I cook Thanksgiving dinner as always. I invite my ex-in-laws (out-laws?) to my home as I have for years. I also invite my ex-husband. I do not invite his girlfriend. We wait for him. We keep waiting for him. He finally calls. He has totaled his car on the way to my house. Nobody is hurt. His father picks him up. We carry on as if nothing has happened, because this is what we do.

I am in a new relationship. He is so different from any man I have ever known except one. He is like my father in many important ways. He wants to fry a turkey. This is completely unlike my father who had no interest in preparing food (although he did enjoy eating it, very much). We go on a quest to find the exact turkey fryer he wants. We end up with one that he thinks will do. It is just the two of us for Thanksgiving that year. His fried turkey is delicious. We have a new tradition. Fried for Thanksgiving, roasted for Christmas.