Seeing as how this is my blog and I get to write what I want I have decided to occasionally start putting in memories of events that were special to me. So I will begin with Grandma and her snoring. My mom was a world class snorer. She has sleep apnea and would snore and sputter and gasp her way thru the night. She could be heard thru out the house and if you didn't get to sleep first it would keep you up for a time. Now all of us girls took turns in sleeping with her. She had the big bed and it was comforting to get to sleep next to mom... except that she snored. She was nudged, poked, prodded and awakened to stop the constant noise. We could have slept in our own rooms but the noise wasn't that much less. I read one day in a self help column(Dear Abby or Ann Landers) that you should pinch or stick the offender with something sharp. Made sense. I must have been at least 14-15 because I remember being very cocky(hard to visualize, huh) and the night I got to sleep with mom I went armed. My mother, God rest her loving soul, did not cuss. Ever. She would not tolerate anyone using our Lord's name in vain. When the snoring commenced she was on her left side and I took my weapon, a pin, and stuck her in the butt. She leaped out of bed screaming Jesus Christ something just bit me in the ass!!!
I leaped out the other side of the bed and stood there with my hip cocked and my hand on said hip with the pin in my other hand. Mom turned on the light on about the time I said (can you believe I was this stupid?) I did it, I stuck you with a pin to make you quit snoring. She slowly turned and looked at me... her face was purple but she quietly asked What did you say? Like a fool I repeated myself. She was furious... but her voice was quiet and oh so controlled and she informed me that this was her house, her room and her bed and if I didn't like what I heard I could return to my own room. That memory is so vivid but it stops there. I know she didn't beat me and I don't remember if I told her I was sorry and I also don't remember where I slept that night. I was undoubtedly traumatized from hearing her curse and from the overall lack of sleep. Folks, my mom was a saint.