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PDF MeeMaws Hope Chest

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Some of the old-timers say there were guardian angels that showed up to end the suffering. Others talk about healing spirits that live in the hills all around our valley. A few even tell about mysterious lights in the sky and life returning to Pinesburg anew. Most everyone agreed that something supernatural happened. Something natural happened around the same time, as well.

Speculators found a huge vein of that black rock in the hills. They mined it and the money started pouring in, bringing new people with brighter memories than the locals and most important, brighter vision for the future. Ancient animal life, now a fuel for the factories up north and heat for the homes all around the hills, brought new life to Pinesburg. Mom and Dad and Meemaw walked under the corner of the green cloth awning stretched over the hole in the ground.

The sight of it stopped me in my tracks. My parents and Meemaw kept walking.

Young Sheldon (2017) s01e03 Episode Script

My grip on Hannah loosened and she ran to the space between Mom and Meemaw. The three of them kept walking until they took their seats in the front row of plastic folding chairs on the other side of the open grave. Wyatt stood beside me as I stared at the gleaming metal coffin. It was hard to accept Charlie was gone. Unexpected tragedy always is. I closed my eyes and thought about Charlie.

The last time I saw him, in the intensive care unit in Louisville, he was all coiled up in tubes and wires like he was in a plastic snake pit. I blinked a couple times and squeezed my eyes tight. I wished those healing spirits that saved Pinesburg had been around to save Charlie.

Tremors - MeeMaw - Game of Thrones (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Or taken me. My heart raced. My desire to escape intensified. A cluster of bright yellow spots danced across the inside of my eyelids and appeared in the space around my head. The spots of light flashed across the ground, zoomed up into the awning overhead and came rushing back toward me. The bright spots combined into a cyclone of light just before colliding with my pimple-dotted forehead. As I tried to steady myself, I grabbed at his Pinesburg Wildcats football jersey, messing up the arrangement.

The large flower wreath spread across the lower end of the coffin loosened and slid toward the ground. The high-pitched chorus was gone. The dots of light were gone. He tilted his head and arched his eyebrows, motioning for me to look across the coffin. My family was staring at me. Another daydream, causing me nothing but trouble. Nods of hello and grimaces of sorrow filled the faces.

Hushed voices of sadness filled the air. As I walked to take my seat in the empty folding chair between Hannah and Meemaw, a glimmer of red light from beyond the rows of somber attendees flashed through the air. I would say it flashed through the sky, but it was pretty close to the ground. As I paused to look, the red light pulsed through the air a second time.

I was trying to locate the source of the strange red glow and moved closer to the front row while scanning the space behind the last row of seats. That would have been typical. Or maybe trying to comfort herself. I half-grinned at her, which only caused her to wail more loudly. Even though it was closing in on summer, my insides felt like it was the dead of winter. The passing of the young. I glanced over as it continued. Marty was right, this pastor was not an easy listen.

There had to be something better to hold my attention until he was done talking. As I looked beyond many familiar faces, all trying to avoid eye contact as fervently as I was, I felt one pair of eyes that refused to look away. I vaguely recognized the moist feminine eyes tracking my movement. As soon as I saw the dark hair that hung long and silky around her face and shoulders, I knew without a doubt. I had been staring at that shimmering hair every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon in History class all year long. Like a black waterfall of temptation, it often splashed onto the front corner of my desktop.

The dark hair and those moist eyes belonged to Aamilah Shamad, the cutest girl in school, at least in my rankings. One glance from her usually turned my face seven shades of red and tied my tummy up tighter than a guitar string one strum before it breaks. Now she was sitting behind me. Way behind me, but directly in my line of sight. She was sitting in the back row, next to her mother, who was all wrapped up in a black robe dress. I abandoned my mission to avoid listening to Brother Westler and turned back around in my chair with the unmistakable impression that her eyes were still peering at the back of my head.

I slid my hand over the back of my head. As I did, I could feel those squirrely strands poking into the air like an airplane tower with the blinking red lights. I pushed them flat in futility, knowing they would jump to attention the moment I returned my hand to my lap. Dad was speaking. He stood, tall and shiny, facing the crowd. His trademark smile was reduced to a resolved grin.

His blue eyes danced like wave tops crashing against the shore and his perfectly parted salt and pepper hair capped his tanned face. He looked like a department store catalog model. Charlie stood up for the things that matter most. He was a Pinesburg kind of boy. A little of both, I guess.

I want to teach you somethin'. Look at your cards. Meemaw : and then look in the mirror. Sheldon : Hey, I'm smiling. Meemaw : Uh-huh, and what does that tell me about your cards? Sheldon : That I like them? Meemaw : Attaboy. Tell me what you see. Sheldon : That you're old. Meemaw : It's a good thing I love you. I'm gonna look at my cards again. Sheldon : You're unhappy. Meemaw : Which means Sheldon : You don't have good cards. Meemaw : So I'm gonna see your nickel and raise you a quarter. Sheldon : Quarter? Meemaw : You can fold. Sheldon : No, I have good cards, you have bad cards. I'm in.

Nines and fives. Meemaw : Mm, that's too bad. Three queens. You lose.


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Sheldon : What? But you weren't happy. Meemaw : I made you think I was unhappy. Sheldon : But that's lying. You lied to your moon pie. Meemaw : I bluffed my moon pie. Sheldon : Do people know about this? Meemaw : Sheldon, what's on a person's face is not always what's in their heart. It sits under our Christmas tree every year as decoration. It was the coolest gift I can remember. Unfortunately, the dishes were lost they were red and the chickens for the rotisserie, but I keep looking on Ebay for replacements.

Why was I sent here?

Carousel Kitchen? Must look that up. I have used some of my dolls for Christmas decorations too! They were harder to sew than the things I made for myself, but they were great teaching tools for thinking about clothing fit.

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Of course, no human actually has those proportions. You had a hope chest too?!!! Oh yeah. The cedar chest. Pingback: Do I Dare? Paper dolls? Do you mean those dolls you cut out and they stand up with a cardboard angle at the back and the clothes sit over the shoulders and sides with little tabs?

WOODWORKING, CARVED BLANKET CHEST!!!

I loved those as a child. Yeah, the kind you had to cut out with scissors. Now, you just punch them out. I know because I helped granddaughter 1 do just that last night! Fairies too! Soooo pretty!! In fact, I thought about you as I helped her. The fairies would fit right into your world!!!

I had a beautiful set of Little Women paper dolls, baby doll paper dolls and ordered bunches from the Katy Keene comic books. DO I hear an amen out there???! When I was a teen I was filling it with stuff for marriage, except that I used a lot of that stuff when I put together my first apt after college, and of course I never married. Serv, just call it The Cedar Chest and tell us your story!!!? OK, so some are bit holey, worn and probably should be trashed. Egg separator, lol.

Cedar Hope Chests

Seems a shame to recycle somehow. Only five more years and the same niece will get the chest for her confirmation. How time flies! Hi Servetus. I was sooo against having anything called a hope chest — thought it such a sexist thing even in the s! Of course, I was never brave enough to say it out loud as people already thought I was a weirdo because I was different from all my family. I succumbed to pressure at age 23 and married……. I left my control freak of a husband in and divorced the next year — one must wait one year to apply for a divorce in Australia. I am now 65 and have been single for almost 30 years.

Unfortunately, most single or available men my age seem to still be too chauvinistic for my tastes. Way OTT I know! She was like me in that she loved her dollies but she also loved her Lego and playing coppers and robbers, etc. I eventually decided she had her head screwed on properly and bought her a Barbie when she was about 7. Barbie was occasionally played with but mainly sat on a shelf! Where I grew up every girl got one for confirmation. Or maybe my mom will pass hers on, not sure. I have two nieces.

I always liked handicrafts and stuff, and I always assumed I would get married, and that all that stuff would be useful. I should have been putting together a Latin and a German dictionary and stuff that is useful for travel and probably some luggage. I was also the oldest so I got to boss all of the boys around too!!! LOL, I always just cracked the egg in half and then poured back and forth until I had the white in a cup. Is that wrong?

It is cute, though!


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  • LOL…not wrong just quick. I often use the easy method. One less thing to have to wash up. Which is why I wash my eggs before I use them. Sometimes the grands wash them and sometimes they forget. Regardless, I wash them. I kinda freaky about things like that. I scrub down all my veggies and fruits to. From the grocery store. Mine too from my garden but not as thoroughly. My mother complained she had to spend a small fortune in doll clothes every Christmas. My fave doll was Skipper.

    Eventually I started crafting my own fashions out of tissue paper and tape. This post really takes me back. Glad you found it, judiang!! I adored Skipper. Not sure we ever tried the Tissue Paper Look tho!! You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Google account. You are commenting using your Twitter account.