A Royal Flush

My mother-in-law, Evie, was cleaning out her refrigerator several years back and came upon an old jar of pickles. Personally, I think pickles last as long as nuclear waste, but Evie decided to flush them down the toilet, rationalizing that the pickle shape resembles the usual waste product. With timing that was just a little too coincidental, her condo neighbor ran out her door exclaiming that her toilet was spontaneously overflowing.  Evie said something like, "Oh, I wonder how that happened," all the while thinking, 'Kosher Dills.'

The following Christmas my kids decided to give Gramma Evie some jars of pickles and used the following labels:

(One jar was filled with those miniature cocktail pickles) 
"GRAMMA'S BEST FLUSHABLE PICKLES"

(Another jar held a humongous, fat, 10 inch long pickle from a deli) 
"GRAMMA'S BEST GIANT DELI PICKLES---DO NOT FLUSH"
©12/2012  Jana B Patrick,  janasrandomwriting.blogspot.com                                                     MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVIE!

Big Apple Meets the Gals from Minne-Apple

One of my Mom's favorite things to do was an annual October trip to New York with her friends and cousin. As I used to go to New York on business, I often had the pleasure of joining them on some of their outings.

Back in the hotel after a day of shopping, cousin Joni shrugged out of her warm, furry wrap and recalled a coat she had seen that she really wanted. "I just can't buy it, I've got this beaver coat Jim gave me, but I DO like that other one so much." Mom's friend Gloria said, "Joni! You're in New York! Just go down on the street and sell your beaver!"

Gloria used to tie an old pair of pantyhose around her waist, put her money in one of the legs, then tucked her stash safely under her trousers. Mom, walking down to the subway behind her nearly wet her pants laughing when she saw that Gloria's tail had come teasingly free and was wagging back and forth begging to be taken.

My son Ryan and I were in New York and joined the group for dinner. The ladies were fascinated by an old guy dating a young chick at the table behind us and went so far as getting out the compact mirrors to watch the goings on. I hope the couple's real story was half as fascinating as the one the ladies were conjecturing. 
There's nothing quite like going to New York and tipping a few with your Mom--here's to you, Jackie!
 ©12/2012  Jana B Patrick,  janasrandomwriting.blogspot.com

Gloria!

Jackie, Gloria, Marlene and Joni, 2000

 Joni and Jackie with New York's finest

It Must Have Been His Dancing

My parents met on a blind date in 1952. My Dad took one look as Jackie arrived at the University of Minnesota fraternity house, ran upstairs, did a little 'YES!!!' dance, bounded back down and got 60 years of romance started.

This dating tip worked for him:  (Don't try it. Not recommended.)  My Dad raised grand champion Aberdeen Angus steers as a teen, and for county fair competitions, the animals were brushed to a lustrous, ebony shine.  On one of my parent's first dates, he said, "Oh, Jackie, your hair is as black as an Aberdeen Angus!"  ...And she went out with him again... 
(Technically, I should not exist.)
©12/2012  Jana B Patrick

He misses you lots, Mom!

P.S. I remember when I was growing up, my parents would go out at night, and I would wait up until the wee hours, watching out the window until they came back, safe, home again.  If I had known then that they would have nearly 60 years together, I could have got a lot more sleep.

Jackie: September 1931-December 2012

Jackie Was the Gift to All Who Knew Her

Very sadly my mom passed away Monday.  She was a dear, sweet woman that everyone loved. I wrote the following blog in honor of her 80th birthday last year. She was one of my faithful blog followers, always giving the gift of her attentiveness to her children and grandchildren, great grandchildren, relatives and friends.

Back in the 1960's my debonair, bachelor uncle, Harry, would send festive boxes from Woodward and Lothrop Department Store in Washington, DC every year on my mother's birthday.  The package arrival would get all seven of us kids into a frenzy until the unwrapping of that year's new hat.  Some had mink trim, one sported pheasant feathers, all were so sophisticated, some so 'Jackie.'

As with any fashion, the era of hats waned.  Weren't we surprised when the boxes in the 1970's arrived with...wigs!  Auburn, black, frosted, short, long, shaggy.  My Mom loved them--Suddenly, she didn't have to wash or set her hair--just stretch on that wig and voila!  One the 'Harry' wigs was so tight, she had to take two Tylenol every four hours.  It surely is better to look good than to feel good!

The 1980's ushered in decades of jewelry as Harry's gift of choice.  Now that NEVER goes out of style!
©9/2011  Jana B Patrick

Mom, you will be missed.