Tag Archives: working mom

A Lesson in Judgment

Before yesterday, I never would’ve considered myself a judgmental person. Anyone who knows me, knows I am anything but. At least I always thought so.

I stand corrected.

A few posts ago I wrote I was being sent to the armpit of the state for a two day conference. I spent yesterday, last night and today in this town, and am now humbly eating my words.

Unfortunately, because all those freak shows out there searching on ‘wet granny panties’ and ‘hot mommies’ have made me paranoid, I’ve never divulged my state of origin.

And dammit, that pisses me off.

Because I’d love to tell you about this town. Its amazing history, architecture and origin of its blue-collar culture are something I’ve never taken much time to learn. And it’s a shame, because, in a city that appears run-down to most, beats a heart filled with colorful and rich memories. Memories of speakeasies, working class Irish immigrants, and brothels that, at one point in time, made up the largest red-light district in the U.S.

It’s a mining town. A hard-drinking town. And a town filled with honest, hard-working, down-to-earth people. After decades of seeing only part of the picture, in one short day, my perspective has changed. I can appreciate it for what it is.

A place where history lives through its architecture.

Home to one of the most beautiful churches I’ve ever seen.

Home of the pasty, a traditional Cornish lunch eaten by local miners every day, thousands of feet under the earth.

Three words. De.Lish.Us.

I bought 24 of these yummy victuals — pastry crust filled with meat and potatoes — and brought them home to freeze.

Image borrowed from these guys.

Whatever you do, just don’t pronounce it “pay-stee.”

Image borrowed from these guys.

It’s ‘paaa-sty.’ Rhymes with ‘nasty.’

(Irony. It’s a beautiful thing.)

So, my apologies, Town-That-Shall-Remain-Unnamed. You’ll be glad to know, tonight when I walked through my door, I brought with me a valuable lesson — I’m not as non-judgmental as I’d like to think. I can do better. And, as hard as it is to leave MP overnight, I’m glad I made the trip.

The enlightenment is worth more than a crappy t-shirt any day.

Now, before I log off, I feel I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the top-notch entertainment the city has to offer.

Well, three outta four ain’t bad.


Filed under Piece of History, Uncategorized

Pimp Mommy Earns a Buck

This past weekend was one for the books — MP earned her very first dollar.

The temperature reached the mid-60s Saturday before plummeting again Monday night, ushering in yet another round of snow Tuesday morning. Knowing all too well the weather’s fickle nature ’round these parts, we took full advantage of Saturday’s beautifully sunny day by washing the car. It was sorely needed.

Working in concert, Grammy manned the hose, I vacuumed the floorboards, and MP dusted, polished and buffed the interior.

I think she had ulterior motives for picking that job.

Now you see her.

Now you don’t.

Hear that noise? That’s the suckage that is my camera.

Anyhoo, she did such a great job, Grammy rewarded her with her very first dollar. If you can’t tell from the smugness, she thought it was pretty cool.

So last night, after picking her up from preschool, she got to spend her dollar. After a little comparison shopping, she settled on a fruit roll-up and a sucker. I DID have a few photos to document the event. I would show them to you, however, that would mean the memory card was actually IN the camera when I took the photos. It was not. Alas.

At any rate, I think we’re on the way toward instilling a good work ethic. And I already see hints of an entrepreneur in the making.

Like Daughter, Like Mother (er, kinda)
In addition to scouring between the sofa cushions and raiding the dryer for loose change, I too began earning money from a very early age. Around first grade, kids would actually pay me to draw customized cartoons of whatever their little hearts desired. Fools. The cartoons were really bad, and more often than not depicted a teacher saying something stupid. Belly laughs, I know.

And then later, somewhere in between the pet sitting and the lemonade stands, my puny second grade brain came up with a slightly seedy money-making scheme.

Back in the ’70s, my mom read Cosmopolitan magazine. Back in the ’70s, Cosmo was even … uh … bolder? … than it is now. Cosmo models were frequently topless, and occasionally fully nekid. This meant nothing to me, but apparently, somehow I knew it there was a buck to be earned. Naturally, I did what any budding entrepreneur would do.

I cut out the photos and sold them to the boys for a dollar each.

The details of exactly how I concocted the whole racket are fuzzy at best. Suffice it to say, after a good run, I was busted in the boy’s bathroom making a deal. Oh, the humiliation. My mother was notified that I brought obscene photos to school. I was grounded. And Cosmo was never seen in the house again. I have no idea what my poor mother thought was going on, but I’m pretty sure no one realized it was just business.

It could’ve been worse. I could’ve cut up National Geographic. Now THAT’s graphic.


Filed under Piece of the Past

Ladies and Germs, We Have Progress



Filed under Bits and Pieces