I'm scanning in negatives to the computer and it looks like it's just in time. These are, sadly, deteriorating, but at least I got them in time. We have a scanner that scans slides and negatives, it just takes about 10 minutes a slide to do it, and then freezes up my computer every third or so picture. But it's so cute! Kerry loved to ride her "horsie" everywhere. It gave her hours and hours of enjoyment. This must have been BYU at an apartment complex on 5th West on the third floor because I recognize the snowsuit. We wouldn't have needed it for the desert, where we spent some summers when Marty worked for Kerr McGee in Trona. I have the print, I'm sure, but just in case, here is the negative. This was someone's birthday, but I'm not sure it was Kerry's birthday--but it must have been because of the new-looking snowsuit, and the horsey looks unabused--and we were such poor college students at the time that that is all that she probably got--unless you count the re-purposed clothes we made her--I especially liked the jeans with Kerry's name zigzagged on the pocket that were made out of Marty's old jeans--including the re-used pocket. (Are there enough dashes in that last sentence?) Now let's see, Kerry was born in Utah and we went to Ridgecrest to live for eight months and then moved back to the apartment on 5th West, so this could very possibly be her first birthday--shaking the cobwebs out of the old noggin is a very hard thing to do, so youngsters, keep up with your blogs, you'll be grateful when you're in your dotage.
Happy Birthday! Some of the things we like about you are your smile, your kindness and your happy spirit. We like how you care about others. We like how you want to be a cub scout, and we like how you are anxious to be baptized. We're glad to be your grandparents and we love you.
Grandma and Grandpa Clift
I said I had another story about paradigm shifting and parenting. This last one was really the first. I thought of this story first, but then the other stories kind of made more sense to me, so they were posted first. The harder concept with this story is that our parents did a good job of maintaining our twin individualities. We were so often frustrated when someone would give us a letter/permission slip to take to parents, a flower, a birthday gift and tell us, "You don't need two, you're really one person anyway." My answer is: How do you share a "Jingle Jump"? The point of that Jingle Jump was to turn the bell around your ankle all day, so, when was the sharing going to take place?
My parents were very good at letting us maintain our identities. We wore different colored tennis shoes so they could tell us apart, but one day, my mom let us switch our usual red and blue shoes so we could "trick our daddy." In my mind, at a very young age, that fun game was what helped me do my earliest "deep thinking," as Kerry and Steve call it. I was able to think through some "I'm an individual" thoughts. So hard to explain, but a great technique. Thanks, Great Grandma and Great Grandpa!
"Also, I have NO fear of fireplace fires. After we were burned, Dad took much time and care so we did not have anxiety about fireplaces."
(Back to my comments): Ken was in the hospital for 11 days, I think. Patti and I were in the hospital for four months, although Patti didn't need to be there. They knew that separating identical twins might make me fade and die (they were probably quite right). After 45 years, I heard a memory today from Patti I never knew. Write her and ask her what that was...
Anyway, when I came home, I was in huge splints to immobilize the grafts (ask Kerry and Uncle Ken about their graft stories), and couldn't yet walk (thanks to Mrs. Wing for scaring me into walking--but that's yet another story).
The way people got rid of their trash in the 60s was to burn it in their fireplaces. My parents would go a long time without lighting the trash fires because I was so afraid of fires then. My easy chair was set up in the living room pretty close to the fireplace.
It took a lot of work to lift me to my room and back because of not messing with the big splints so the grafts would take, so I had to get up courage somehow. When fire day finally did come, I said I could do it, and would try to be brave, but I would scream when a lick of flame went too high.
It was a pretty bad thing and obviously couldn't go on, so dad changed our paradigm. He took Patti and me out in the backyard and gave us a box of matches to light. Now how fun is that? We got to light all the matches we wanted, and ever after that I wasn't afraid of fires--well, until one day we were on our way to our grandparents house and a beautiful victorian two-story close to the side of the road was engulfed in flames and we had to drive by to get by--it was on a corner and we didn't see it coming, and that meant no turnaround place and traffic was dangerous, so we had to forge on. That sure set me back, I can tell you!
Here's a picture of me in the hospital and you can barely see the straight legs. I thought I had a photo with the whole family, but I can't find it now. Anyone have it? Okay, Great Auntie Patti and Great Grandma found it. Thanks for sending me a copy!
Here's a picture of us on our birthday in 1964 with our anesthesiologist, Dr. Horn. His birthday was on November 30. Patti is standing. Isn't she pretty? I look a little hammered. :) Mrs. Wing took this picture. It appeared in a Napa newspaper. She was a photographer for a Napa paper at the time. I guess while we're at it, I'll tell you the Mrs. Wing story. Same neighbor around the corner that the (below) paradigm story is about. A great friend of my mom's for over 50 years. Yes, her name is Bea. I went to her house one day and she yelled at me and scared me and told me to get up and walk. She scared me so bad with her command that I jumped up. It worked. I might have been a touch miffed at the time, but she knew that it was now or never, if I didn't get up now, I never would. I owe her everything now, but then--I about fainted :) Here's a picture of the kids. Can't find a picture of Mrs. Wing right now--can someone send me one?
Aha, found a picture of Mrs. Wing from Facebook. This is on a picnic above the Angwin airport.
The end. Stay tuned for the next paradigm shift installment...
Apparently when we were in North Carolina, the lightning scared my dad, so maybe that’s why he worked so hard to make sure we were not afraid of lightning. Here’s the comment my mom sent, along with a couple of pictures of the North Carolina house.
This is a quote from my mom: “Dad did a backward summersault when the lightning bolt struck the transformer at the edge of the lawn in North Carolina. It spewed the plug out of the cord of the radio and melted the wire. I was scared about that one. I thought dad had been hit because he had been squatted down at the front door watching the bolts cross the sky. That one was right on top of us and it sounded at the same time it struck and he did the backward summersault thingy. I screamed!”
This is a picture of the house in North Carolina she sent, and here’s the comment about it: “This is the screen door dad was squatting at––he was just inside it when the bolt hit the transformer at the end of the lawn to the left of the porch about 20 feet from where Patti is standing. The transformer was right in front of the fire hydrant on the green patch of the lawn. It is just out of the picture.” Here's another picture:
Then for my donkey paradigm shift comment she wrote: “We grinned every time that jackass brayed bee hee heee! Nobody else ever found it funny. That is why we've been together for so long. We both have the same sense of humor. love, mom”
"The term "paradigm shift" has found uses in other contexts, representing the notion of a major change in a certain thought-pattern—a radical change in personal beliefs, complex systems or organizations, replacing the former way of thinking or organizing with a radically different way of thinking or organizing." (thefreedictionary.com)
Looking back on my childhood, a memory I have is that my parents did a good job with us on things like thunderstorms and annoyances. Instead of getting all mad at something that was beyond our control, several times they made a game out of the situation. When we lived in North Carolina and Alabama, there were shocking thunderstorms. Instead of being afraid of them, especially in Alabama, (the memory is stronger, there, I was nine--three in North Carolina). I remember my dad putting chairs in the inside entryway of our apartment building and watching with us with "oohs" and "aahs." He commented on the beauty and majesty of it all. It became a family fun time and a game--no more fear.
Another paradigm shift: There was a burro on the hillside near our neighborhood in Napa that would bray at all hours so loudly that the neighbors were up in arms. My parents laughed and laughed, instead, at the burro, saying it sounded like it was talking to our neighbor, Bea. The sound he made was beeeee-heeeee-heeee-heeee-heee, like he was laughing at Bea. It became a family joke, more fun time, and our frustration at the noise was obviated.
So, when you're frustrated, think of just shifting your paradigm. It could save you untold hours of grief!
How are these for random pictures? Since I never have had time to organize pictures, I'm lucky to even have them in picture albums of any kind, let alone scrapbooking--now that is a time-consuming hobby that I'm very proud of all you hobbyists who can take the time and have the talent to do it--I figured that if I'm ever going to get anything up on this blog it will have to be random. I think (a nameless relative) calls the Norlunds all or nothing kind of people. Since all is now out of the question, this is just short of nothing. But better than nothing, right?
So here goes: Above is a picture of Cami and Patti at a Hannah Montana concert at Stadium of Fire in July 2008. Marty and I went, too, but I get to choose the pictures. :) It was a very hard thing to get tickets (thanks to Steve, who made it possible). The memories are that it was a lot more fun than we would have thought. The stairs were very tiring, and the crowds were overwhelming. It took us way too long to get there because of the one road into Provo from Salt Lake.
The next picture above that is Marty in July 2008, just for posterity sake (by the way, all of these pictures are July 2008 in Utah).
Above that (can you tell I'm not good at arranging pictures in this blogosphere? ) is a cute picture of Lily at Joe's Crab Shack--no, no, wait, that's McDonald's.
Then comes Sam in a pool that Mark and Beverly and family dug for them for the summer in their back yard. Cute pool! And then one of Sam being generally cuddly and loveable.
Last is Lily in her smocked July 4 dress. No, I didn't smock this one, I saw it on clearance at a kid's store in the mall in Salt Lake, now what's the name of that mall--had to look it up--Trolley Square. We had the kids, Lily was sleeping, so we took turns staying in the car with her. Sam liked outside best.