Unbagging the Cats 1

Unbagging the Cats 1

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Delving Deeper into Val

Don't worry. It's not what you think.

Stephen, of Chubby Chatterbox fame, has proffered me a Versatile Blogger award. I already have one. And a while back, I do believe that Labbie, of The Adventures of Garrett Squared, also extended such an honor my way. I am very grateful, yet I don't want to appear greedy. So I'm going to give everyone a more in-depth look into Val's trunk of secrets, without putting that award on my mantle or nominating others.


1 - When my first serious boyfriend gave me my first french kiss...I laughed in his face and ran into my house.

2 - I have lived in some real hovels while making my way in this world. And have not had the good sense to be embarrassed about them. They include, but may not be limited to, the following: a) an apartment over the garage of some backwoodsy trailer park owners, adjacent to the end of their house; b) a second-floor apartment in an old railroad hotel, furnished, about ten feet from the tracks, which vibrated every time the train rushed past; c) a one-bedroom shack with a slanted bathroom and a gas furnace that WHOOSHED like the house was exploding every time it kicked on; d) a three-bedroom house with a bathtub leak that sported a mushroom growing up through the shag carpet.

3 - Heights and the feeling of being trapped are a couple of my main phobias. Which may stem from the time I climbed the big slide at the local swimming pool and decided I didn't want to go down, but the twenty-or-so kids lined up behind me down the ladder and beyond kind of insisted. That's the first memory I have of those fears.

4 - I used to be addicted to the soap operas General Hospital and One Life to Live. The summer our TV burned out, I made my mom drive us to grandma's house so we could watch. And I persuaded my dad that it was time to buy a new color TV, rather than watching the small black-and-white on top of the non-working TV (yes, Jeff Foxworthy, I know what you're sayin'), because the Olympics would be much more impressive in color. But the real reason was that I wanted to see the blues of Luke's and Laura's eyes.

5 - I am fascinated by the time periods of the Civil War and the Middle Ages. I don't know why. I'm not much of a history buff. But stuff about ancient Greece and the building of the pyramids bores the pants off me. (Yes, I know the Greeks did not build the pyramids.)

6 - My sons were both born with no epidural or alternative pain-killing medication. Not by choice. That's one of the drawbacks to living in Backroads. If you make it to the hospital too late, because your husband wanted to take a shower and pack a bag first, you run the risk of being told, "By the time we call the anesthesiologist, and he drives back in, you will be too far dilated for him to do anything." Thank goodness for those required childbirth classes.

7 - I don't mean to brag, but my hometown was referred to by anybody not living within its city limits as Moosecock.

And there you have it. More about Val than you'll ever need to know. You can throw away your notes. I'm not giving a quiz. Not even bonus points on the final.


Sioux said...

I am assuming that after the second child's birth, you administered a vasectomy on him with your bare hands, right there in the delivery room, to return the favor...

I used to live in a home where you could see the outside from the inside, just by looking at a corner in the livingroom. AND we shared it with quite a few field mice. So there!

Shelly said...

All are funny, but #7 made me roll!

Linda O'Connell said...

I lived in a garage. I had no control over what my parents did. Val, you should write a book!

Pearl said...

No, I'm pretty sure you can brag about #7.



Val said...

Do those things grow back together? Because I would have LOVED to do just that. But Hick had the foresight to get it done ONE MONTH before the birth of number two. Which meant that I had to lift a three-and-a-half-year-old over my very pregnant belly to get him in and out of our van, and into shopping carts, and carry the groceries by myself, and bring Hick frozen peas to pack his junk, and...oh, how I longed for the restful life of a pioneer woman.

I hope you weren't like that hoarder guy who had a whole house full of rats. Because that would have been depressing, not even being on TV and all.

Well, you had to live there. It was not a term of endearment.

I rented out the garage of my mushroom house to a gay guy who made it waaayyyy prettier than the house. He hung a sheet across the ceiling for muted lighting, and made the sink into a wet bar.

If I remember correctly, you have written your own book, something along the lines of Real Housewives of the Eighties. I have three separate works kicking around my subconscious, all three being non-fiction. One has substance and lacks a hook. The other two have the hook and lack material. Thank you so much for your encouragement. Now, excuse me while I go dwell on my inadequacies.

Somebody wanted to. They spray-painted the carved wooden sign at the edge of town. The official side proclaimed, "Now leaving Realtown." The other side, viewed by motorists entering our fair burg, simply said, "Moosecock."

labbie1 said...

I had to dry my eyes from the tears running down my cheeks while I laughed at your informative peek into your past.

I salute you on #6! And Sioux's delightful assumption on the results...

#7 just cracks me the heck up!

Yep--have had mushrooms in several rentals in the bathroom shag. I mean, really, who decided carpet of ANY KIND was good in a bathroom let alone shag! Sheesh!

Josh Hoyt said...

I love the middle ages it is fun time period. Recently we were living in a home that was sprouting mushrooms out of the wall hmmm we have a lot in common lol

Val said...

labbie and Josh,
Who knew that volunteer mushrooms were such a common addition to one's decor? Now I don't feel so special.