Reinke Faces Life

Our Girl took special delight in telling the tale of “the dolls”. When she was growing up, she shared a bedroom with her much (much, her words, not mine) older sister. During the winter, she liked the window open for fresh air. (I can vouch for that. There was only one time when the window had to be closed. You can guess when that was. Noise might travel.)

Her sister liked to arrange her doll on the windowsill. When Our Girl wanted the window open, she’d open it. Gravity might take over. And the dolls would be in the alley. Jack would retrieve them and Peg would administer ‘discipline’. When Our Girl was particularly POed, she’d just hide the dolls, open the window, and let the fun begin. Jack would search … unfruitfully. Peg would ‘discipline’ doubly. And, Our Girl enjoyed every minute of it.

I swear she got a bigger kick out of telling that story than doing the ‘evil deed’.

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FROM FACEBOOK

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I wonder if the royal couple had to do pre-cana? Church of England is basically catholic just without the pope.

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Funny pre-C story, Frau Reinke and I had to do it as you’d expect. Her’s was a twice weekly two hour meeting with the parish priest for eight weeks. Mine was one session with the USAF chaplain for two hours that I spent sorting, indexing, and filing his old Sunday Sermons. I was handed these three boxes of stapled multi-page documents and was told that when it was done he’d sign off. So it took about 15 minutes to get them in date order, about an hour to index them, and a few minutes to pack them up. I brought them back into him. As he signed off, he said: “Married life’s gonna be a lot like that. Figure it out.” ROFL, when I told Frau Reinke, needless to say, she was not amused. LOL! Guess both versions worked?

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Barnstable airport

One time in the late fall, we had the little motorhome we were taking the last trip of the season before we winterized it for the year. We went to the Cape for the water. We pulled up to the campground where had a confirmed reservation to find “CLOSED FOR THE SEASON” and no one around.

So we got out the directory and from the pay phone on the side of the closed camp store, I started calling other campgrounds.

Nothing!

Every one had the same story “Closed For The Season”.

So we were both pooped so we went to the local KMART and parked over night. (She was scared that we get arrested. But she was tired too.) Next morning we wake up early. (She wanted to get out before the cops came.) And, we had “neighbors”. Three other rigs parked nearby.

So, we had bfast and as other came out she went around and “ran for office”. She had a knack for talking to everyone.

She comes back to report that “everyone” is heading home. It was cold during the night and everyone was afraid of a hard freeze. (Some of our water froze during the night.) So, since “everyone” was heading home, it was decided that we should too. (Temperatures in the following two weeks were in the mid 70’s. But it COULD have frozen.) Perhaps, she was keen on not being in a campground. Maybe if we’d parked in a Macy’s lot that would have been more upscale?

The plumbing was balky, so we rigged for travel.

Dumm de dump de dee, over hill and dale, tiny roads thru tiny hamlets, it was excruciatingly slow. Finally it’s coming to dinner time. I’ve had enough of this. I see a sign for the Barnstable airport. “Gotta be food by an airport”.

We pull in to a podunk airport. You knew it was an airport. More planes parked there than cars. Looks like a dive. But that was OK, we didn’t look much better.

I find the “airport restaurant”. It has a sign. “END OF SEASON. Last night tonight until the spring. Prix Fix $20 per person. Hours: 6-8”. It’s about 7:45. She’s says: “too expensive”. I say: “Feed me.” Discussion about hours to go. How much can we eat in 10 minutes. Where will we find something else. How far to the interstate. Yada yada. Feed me won out. So we go in.

Now remember we “camping” and we look it. No showers, not much water, Clean clothes, but we looked down on our luck.

We go in and right there is a maitre d’ in a tux. And, the joint is empty. Zero people. She pulls me to leave. The fellow says “Thanks for coming.”

She says: “Too late?” He says: “We were waiting for you.”

She agrees we go in and sit down. She chats the guy up and finds out his son is in the USAF and that his daughter is going to college on a basket ball scholarship. He apologizes and says “… all the have is stuffed lobster surprise …” I say I don’t like crab; he’s says not stuffed with crab. “You’ll be surprised.”

Few minutes later out he comes with two plates. Each with two of the biggest lobsters, I’d ever seen to that point in my life.

Our Girl tasted the “stuffing” and declared it was lobster chunks.

Amazing.

Got the check, it was $40 and marked USAF discount 100%. So we left a 40$ tip.

That made the trip.

She told everyone.

The next spring we went back. The restaurant was closed. We never found out what happened.

But every time we had to try a strange restaurant and we had mixed feelings about it, one of us would chime up “Barnstable Airport”. And, in we’d go.

Never found another place like that.

Guess we also never looked as scroungy either.

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I remember one cute story … … …

… … … we had been going out for about six months and the relationship was “blossoming”. It had bloomed for me, and I think I was wearing her down. (Even tought she’d turned down my proposal.) We were going somewhere — I forget where — it was daytime — and we were zipping up the turnpike. She was holding the ticket and we’re coming to the toll booth. (This was long before EZPASS.) So, I handed her my wallet — always a bad idea as a man to give your wallet to a nosy woman — and politely asked her to take some money out for me. She opens the wallet, sees my drivers license, and yells “Who the hell is Ferdinand?” I explained that was my real first name. She asks “Why does everyone call you John?” That was easy. “Who you want to be called Ferdinand and how do your shorten it. Ferd; that becomes Fred. And, Ferd sounds like turd.” She starts to laugh really hard. I guess it just struck her funny bone. So when she calms down. She asks: “You better not be keeping any more secrets. What else are you hiding?” “My love for you. I don’t want to scare you away again.” She just made that gagging sound and sat quiet.

She did eventually give me my wallet back when we arrived. And, a bug hug and kiss.

I didn’t object, but did ask “What was that for?”

With that coy Irish grin, “Making me laugh and trusting me with your wallet”.

Maybe she saw how much money I had in my wallet? Maybe it was no condom? Maybe it was I never asked for it back. Never could figure her out.

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Here I am sitting in Panera to convert one of my e-friends into a non-e, …

… and two guys sit down at the next table and hae a very LOUD conversation about Juvenile Diabetes and how terrible a disease it is.

… … and on and on. With a litany of symptoms and how terrible terrible it is.

I just bite my tongue. They have no way of knowing who’s sitting next to them.

And, I have to learn to just deal with it.

But they are loud!

Argh!

Maybe the Universe has sent them to teach me to deal with the “ouchies”. Rip that bandaid fast, please.

Drip, drip, drip … …

# – # – # – # – # 2011-May-03 @ 07:42

“From our Easter Service today….lilies given in memory of Evy, Marge’s sister, and our little Wessie. Blessed to have known them all.”

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Appreciated. Sadly. She loved to give presents for any excuse. Easter was one such date. Thanks,

# – # – # – # – # 2011-Apr-24 @ 13:53

“NBC has only one soap opera left, “Days of Our Lives.”

Our Girl’s “soap”. She watched it with her Mother growing up. (I believe watching it transported her to a happier place and time. For her, it was a near religious experience.) She watched it every chance she got. When it was bumped by a current event, the Saint Patrick’s Day parade, or anything, she’s get up and watch it at 2 or 3 in the morning.

With the advent of the VCR, she watched it every night. And woe was me, the techie genius, if the VCR didn’t tape. (Luckily, much later in our lives, the SOAPNET channel rebroadcast it at 11PM and 4AM. And on weekends, all five episodes were on in a row, twice. DrOOL overload. A few times I caught her peeking.)

She took a lot of good natured ribbing about “DrOOL” from me, but she never wavered from her devotion to her “television family” The Hortons. Maybe it was the family she wanted to have in her childhood. In the TV realm, everyone is perfect. The men are hunks; the women not a hair out of place. No one is poor. No one is hungry. No one suffers. And, they all look good as they deal with all their “problems”.

When we were flush, I even took her on a “DrOOL” cruise. She was disappointed; she wanted the whole TV family to be there. And, Micky didn’t look to “Micky-ish” in the harsh glare of sunlight and no make up. After seeing him in person, she didn’t want to see anymore “real life” representation of her idealized family. I guess one has to protect the only emotional link she had to her long passed Mom.

DrOOL was that link. And, I hope that she’s with her Mom finally. Finally at peace. And, I’m sure they are watching DrOOL together once again as the did so many decades ago.

I wonder if Micky looks better now that he’s passed too? I wonder if Tom Horton is there as well. She mourned their passing as she would an old friend.

I’m glad NBC never cancelled DrOOL while Frau Reinke was with us. That would have been tragic for her.

I still watch it from time to time. And, I imagine her sitting in her recliner, eating her lunch, usually Campbell’s Chicken Noodle soup, Diet Pepsi, and a baloney sandwich. In a time warp, back with her Mom. Watching DrOOL together.

When NBC cancels DrOOL as it eventually will, that will be tragic for me, severing my connection to Our Girl.

Maybe I can buy a DVD of an episode and replay that over and over, when I need to feel her emotionally.

Donna Nobis Pacem.

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Our second trip to Vegas, we were “flush”, but not “loaded”, by any stretch of the imagination. We were there for a week. Arrive Saturday’ depart Sunday. And, for some reason, we didn’t “do the envelopes”. (Dumb! Our first trip Our Girl had enevelopes for everything — bfast, lunch, dinner, snack, am gambling, afternoon gambling, evening gambling, show#1, show#2, hotel tips, … you name it there was an envelope for it. I think she was afraid of being broke. We were on a very limited budget.) Now that we were “experienced” Vegas visitors.

Arrived on Saturday. “Broke” on Tuesday. She was crazed. Wanted to go home then.

(I wasn’t THAT upset. I had my emergency stash and I had opened a Las Vegas bank account during our first trip. I had visions of moving to Nevada. Obviously delusional as anyone who knew Our Girl would know.)

I convinced her to “reload”. We found and visited the local Merrill lynch office and got a cashiers’ check. Took it to “our” bank and cashed it.

The vacation continued. We had a great time.

The Saturday before we left, Our Girl tallied up where we stood dollar wise. We had won quite a bit. Enough to replace the “reload”. So she was relaxed and conffessed that she was scared when we did that. “I thought we’d lose everything.” I told her I wouldn’t let that happen.

Sunday morning we checked out and went to the Continental Hotel to have bfast and play a little. It’s literally right down the street from Avis. At bfast, I was playing keno. She took sheet marked some numbers and says “Can I play this?” I said: “Sure, give me a dollar.” She casually replies: “I have three singles left to gamble. Can I play three?” “Sure, you want different numbers for each dollar?” “No, just put it all on that ticket.” “That’s dumb, but it’s your money.”

(Anyone who knows Our Girl is laughing, they know where this is going!)

She watches the board. “To root in her numbers”. Out of the first 6 numbers, she gets 5! I’m going nuts. (I could have “conditioned the ticket” played it in “ways” to ensure she got a decent payday.) Were watching. 5/6 would be nice. 19 numbers other than her “51”.

(Yeah, you know!)

They draw the twentieth number.

It’s “51”.

She has an $8k winner. All total, since some of her numbers she picked, overlapped with mine, and I play “way tickets”, we have 11k$ in winners.

Do you know how long it takes for them to verify winners like that?

I leave her to cash; I go drop off the luggage and check us in. Return to the Continental Hotel, she’s just getting her cash.

Big Smile!

We drop the car at Avis. Run thru the old airport. Make the plane with about 20 minutes to spare. She gets a 20$ roll of dollars and plays the airport slot. Loses.

She’s upset all the way home. She lost that $20. She tells people that “she left Vegas a loser”.

She hated to lose.

… and, yes, her first priority was to repay the “reload”. Then she bought stuff for the kids. She was anything but a “loser” imho.

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>so I’m thinking how many miles to the gallon did that monster get?

18 highway under 60mph. (Assuming of course you were were not in 4 wheel drive and had the “locking hubs” splines out. 4 wheel drive was for macho men in those days — you had to “lock in” the four hubs by hand and then shift the transfer case into 4 wheel high or 4 wheel low.) Ev used to have a hoot driving it. She was no ordinary woman — she understood the splines and had a nice touch with them. The Scout had springs but no shocks in the traditional sense to smooth the ride. Shocks as God intended them to be were only from the frame to the wheel to push the wheel to the pavement. Passengers were just a minor annoyance to International Harvester. Think John Deere on steroids. Good thing she knew how to drive a stick. You could also “lock out” all the wheels and tow it or run “power tools” off the take off — like an auger, a drill, or a power lift. :-) It was really a farm vehicle; I was planning to buy in Nevada, Vermont, or Maine. Life had other plans. :-(

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Our Girl fought terror. She’d seen diabetes cripple her brother and the side effects rip her family apart. Then, she fell victim to the disease. It ravaged her body, destroyed her plans for children, weighed her down later in life, and eventually killed her kidneys. She contributed to diabetes research when she was alive and had them in her will. It was easy to suggest JDRF in the obit.

The following people generously contributed (in alpha order):

Mr. Vincent Alline

Mr. & Mrs. William Fife

Mrs. Rita Gavin

Ms. Ritanne Greenberger

Ms. Mary E. McGready

Parriott Family Charitable Fund

Ms. Holly Rettig

While it’s too late for Our Girl, maybe we can make a difference in someone else’s “Our Girl”.

I am deeply grateful for these people honoring Our Girl.

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Added:

Decker, Ms. Kellen Anne

# – # – # – # – # 2011-Apr-10 @ 18:29