It’s a matter of perspective

This blog has mainly focused on the fun parts of my life as a child – the good memories. Those who know me in person know that my childhood wasn’t always sunshine and roses. Our family – like most families – had our share of troubled times.

During my childhood, I remember that my father worked incessantly. He ran his own business, had plenty of hobbies and was always being sought out by potential clients, friends and family for free legal advice. He would literally spend hours on the phone – we always had two phone lines in the house – one just for him because he was on the phone so much. Other than the time we spent with him in the car in the mornings when he would drive us to school, we did not spend much time with him. He worked long hours and was not home often. I suppose it was not a huge surprise to me to find out that my parents were filing for divorce. I was 12 and I will never forget the moment when my mother broke the news to me and my older brother (my sister had just left for college) that we were moving out of the house and my father was staying behind. We moved from the tiny town of Washington, back to the “big city” of Lafayette and our lives dramatically changed. We went from living in a small town in a historic home on 3 acres to living in a busy neighborhood in an older, simple home with avocado green appliances from the 1970’s.

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Life Skills: Driving a manual transmission

In my last “Life Skills” post, I stressed the importance of cooking skills. In this post, I will talk about the ability to drive a vehicle with a manual transmission and why I think this is a valuable life skill.

But first, a bit of history…

When I was about to turn 15 (yes, the legal driving age in Louisiana was 15 when I was growing up), my parents started looking for a dependable, used car to buy for me. I was the youngest of three and since my mother was a single parent, she was very eager for me to be able to drive. I could help with errands and basically be self sufficient. It was a beautiful thing for a working single mother.  Anyway, the hunt for a car began and I had just one request – I begged my parents not to get me a car with a manual transmission (stick shift). That was my only request – no manual transmission – any other car would do. Continue reading

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Small Town Transportation

When I was growing up in the tiny town  of Washington, Louisiana (estimated population was 1,500), there were about 5 police officers on staff and my father knew them all. Not suprising since he grew up there and was an attorney. Basically, everyone knew everyone else – and everyone’s business (something my mom and sister sometimes loathed).

Part of the fun of living in a small town IS the fact that everyone knows everyone else and sometimes residents are afforded a bit more freedom than would be allowed in a larger city… allowing small children to drive ATV’s on the street – without a license or a helmet. Yes, that was me :)

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Lessons from My Father – Vol. 1

In these “lessons from my father” posts, I will share some of the most common advice my father would give his children.He said some of these things so often that they are now ingrained in our thinking and daily actions.

“Lazy People work the Hardest”

One thing I remember my father frequently commenting to us was that “Lazy people work the hardest”. It was usually in response to our completion of a task in a manner that didn’t meet his standards. He’d also mutter that if he happened to witness someone trying to take a short cut and end up having to do the whole task over again. His theory is that you should take the time and effort to do something right the first time, so you don’t have to do it over again. I see this lesson proved time and time again in my life.

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Crazy Cajun Vocabulary

Like any couple that has been together for years, my husband and I have developed a bit of our own vocabulary. This post will enlighten you to some of the terms we’ve come to define in our home life together.

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My father bought his high school

No, I’m not kidding – and then he turned it into an Antique mall. I told you my family was crazy.

Antique School Mall [wide angle]

Photo credit

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Life Skills: Cooking

I admit that I may get on my soap box a bit here, so if you chose to skip this post, I will not be offended. However, I think this is something that needs to be said for the sake of future generations. Perhaps I’m turning into the grumpy old lady, but here I go.

While I am all about technology and being a geek, I think there are some solid, life skills that are not being taught to the younger generations. I plead with parents out there, please teach your children basic, life skills.

I am talking about basic stuff here – how to cook for oneself.

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Crazy Cajun Vacations – Cleburne, TX

I suppose it should come as no surprise at this point that my parents and the rest of my family have some crazy in them. I give my father a lot of the “crazy credit”. He definitely kept our life interesting. You see, my father had a knack for collecting random things- he’d get on a kick of collecting something and he’d go a bit overboard. When I was about 8 or 9 years old, he started collecting Cushman Motor Scooters from the 1950’s and 1960’s. He would attend and even host “Scooter meets” where hundreds of people would gather with their Cushman Motor scooters, geek out over these scooters and then all go for a ride in the local area on the scooters. Think like a motorcycle gang, but way geekier.

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Nudity at our Mardi Gras Party

After re-reading my Mardi Gras post the other day and realizing that I mentioned making gallons of hurricanes and then shortly after that a young child barricaded himself in our bathroom and promptly removed his clothes, I felt compelled to clarify the story a bit.

No, the child was not inebriated – there is purely an innocent reason for a small child to disrobe in my bathroom and I had nothing to do with it, I promise. To start the story off right, let me set the scene:

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Happy Mardi Gras!

It’s days like these where I sincerely miss living in Louisiana. As I watch all of my facebook friends post pictures of parades and how they are enjoying king cakes, you can’t help but get a little home-sick.

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