Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Public Shaming ...... well frost my pumpkins!


Well just to let everyone know, this old blog is my warped perception on my little corner of the world.  Disclaimers are posted:  Enter at you own risk.  I never set out to offend anyone but in this day age when elected officials can't agree what an assault weapon is and who should own one I guess I hold little hope of everyone enjoying a laugh on life's little observations.  And gotta say after working the law enforcement end of Ohio State Parks for a few years I have the ability to step back, learn, observe and laugh.....  When you see a naked guy running down the double yellow line of the highway at 2 a.m. swearing he is being chased by a pack of rabbits and your partner says: You cuff him.....  it's just puts life in perspective, forever.   The difference between 1977 and today...... today he is running with an assault weapon.  

Apparently my last blog post got a family members knickers in twist and I was shamed on Facebook.
I almost missed it until Rachael alerted me to the "shame on you" post.  I thought I was being shamed for "piffing" at the family table and laughed.  Nope.  Rachael jumped to my defense and was facebook shamed too.  Well it escalated to a throw down in the Harbor....... one of those family sacred places in Ashtabula.  It's a street with seedy bars, eateries and gift shops filled with Viking Chachkies and paper napkins printed with light houses.  I deleted the social shaming incident and thought what set this off?  Color me mystified!  The other part of this mystifying shaming is neither Rachael or the Shamer were at "The Big Sister Hook Up".

I went back and read the blog again, no clue and again.  Other bloggers sent emails saying "ditto" and yeah that's my life too and it's funny!   Ran it past another family member who attended "The Great Sister Hook Up".....  still mystified.  The only thing I could come up with was the use of the word "Crone".   Thinking this might be the offense I called one of my pottery buddies and said what does Crone mean to you?  "Oh not good,  old women who steal children and generally not liked."  Whoa! Really?  Hey, you're 70 years old and approaching Crone-dom, are you gonna steal a bunch of kids and have a personality shift?  And what would you do them because mine just left the house and I changed the locks!  What old woman in her right mind would steal children? 

Enter WikipediA.
The Crone is also an achetypal figure, a Wise Woman.  She is marginalized by her exclusion from the reproductive cycle...... well yeah for that!  Hormones are the devil!  Personally I cannot wait to be a Crone.  The keeper of the family stories, the wise woman, a woman who is rocking the personal power spectrum!  Celebrate those birthdays girls!  I keep watching my index finger willing it to take on a gnarly crooked appearance...... not yet. 

Some other thoughts on the possible offense...... There are in-laws and out-laws.  I'm pretty much an out-law on all levels.  I didn't grow up in my husbands town or by a body of water or skinned knees together while playing hop scotch or even had civil family members.  NO!  I grew up pretty much by the seat of pants and learned pretty early if you screwed up you were going to get called for it and not in a supportive way.  Family gatherings were a lot of yelling, it's what Hungarians do, we yell.  At big family gatherings we had a kids table!  This in my opinion, is brilliant!  I would have never known my cousin could blow milk bubbles out his nose, and pea fights were the best until it got out of control and someone flung a spoonful of flaming hot mashed potatoes and gravy.  Then we were all idiots and reminded of those starving Chinese kids and IF we lived in China they killed children for this infraction because there was not enough food.  OH thank god we are East European!  I have memories of riding home in a giant brown Dodge with a little old Grandpa who had to put "nitro pills" under his tongue to drive it.......... because there was no power steering and there was a block of wood tied, yes tied to the clutch pedal because he was so short.  AND we were coming home from the stockyards under the W. 25th bridge with a fresh, still warm, pig head stuffed in a burlap bag, rolling around the trunk for Grandma; who would turn it into a 9 x 13" pan of gelatinous head cheese.  We would crowd around the table and try to name the parts we could recognize; ear, snout, jowl.  I think it's why I like biology in high school. Holding our plates out for a slice and eating with lip smacking vinegar and a sprinkle of pepper!  AND IT WAS GOOD!  And I am pretty sure my husband was never subjected to any of this in his formative years, he was building go-carts from lawn mowers and water skiing.  
My poor Aunt Carol was pegged as; the Polish girl, she could never aspire to be a Hungarian girl, she rode that Polish horse the rest of her married life.  Even I remember the whispers..... she's Polish what do you expect?  The poor woman served Lasagna and Hawaiian Pies for Christmas one year..... "what does she know, she's Polish."  It's blasphemy!  This is family crap and thank god Aunt Carol didn't own an assault weapon! 

When I got older and married, I dragged the guy I loved and tortured him with the family antics, and he was mystified and miserable.  I bet if there had been blogging, his blog would have read much like the blog I wrote on Monday and we had three old Crones and they were Hungarian.  The motto on the Hungarian Flag was "WHY DO, WHEN YOU CAN OVER DO?" 
AND even though I have been in this family for over 30 years I am still an out law and propose an Out Law table at all family events.  A table where all the out laws can fling flaming mashed potatoes at each other and blow beer out our noses.  The kids, our kids can sit with the Crones and listen to the family stories as they should.  It's called being a family and the older I get the more I have come to peace with the concept.  We are all different thank goodness and so I will not apologize for the last blog post but instead remain in the bubble of Paine Falls and hope the last post is read by the family Crones. 

The Leaky Cauldron hangs proudly in my kitchen and I'm working on my Crone skills :) 






10 comments:

cookingwithgas said...

wow- you can that assault weapon.? In our neighborhood we just called that the guy down the street with no clothes on....
You have me laughing out loud and it takes a lot to do that.
I am a crone and proud of it.
I would not steal anyone's children because I am too smart for that. I loved my kids but, good grief, I am not going for another round.
Just ask my daughter, I love her child like their is no tomorrow but I leave her behind when I go home.
This is the best post ever and I get it!
Now pass the vinegar.

I once had a hog's head, whole in my refrigerator for a neighbor. They will not let you have the head now- crazy, I know!

Sandy miller said...

Ha! Meredith! Consider the vinegar passed! So that guy was from your neighborhood? Rabbits too?

These are crazy times..... No hogs heads, in deed!

cookingwithgas said...

Please excuse my lack of good grammar. I was laughing too hard when I posted.
Truth be told we had a mentally challenged man in the neighborhood whose mother told us not to worry if he ever raped us, because she had him fixed.
She was 3 sheets into her bourbon at the time, that they made in the kitchen.
Those were the days.
The rabbits.
I will have to confess no rabbits were involved or harmed in his lack of clothes.

Tracey Broome said...

We ate pickled pigs feet and eggs that were pickled with beets so they were sort of burgundy, and sardines on saltine crackers! and do you know what potted meat is?! do I get a seat at the outlaw table.
Actually me and my brother in law are called "the outlaws" at my husbands family events, I wear the title proudly in that southern baptist preachers house,

Sandy miller said...

LOL! Oh there is a fine line between crazy and crone! I'm stick'n with Buffalo Trace from KY :)

Sandy miller said...

Tracey! I love pickled pigs feet and eggs. It's the only reason to pickle beets! Oh potted meat, yum! And they canned all kinds of meats, stored them in jars upside down so the fat floated to the bottom of the jar!
And did you guys have a real pigs tail tied to the griddle so you could grease the pan every morning?
Baptist preachers house....... Groan. Yup you get a chair at the outlaw table :)

Richard Aerni said...

Sandy,
Up here in Rochestah, some of my female friends have actually had "Crone Parties" to celebrate, the, er, event. No shame attached...some honor, apparently. Not being of your gender, I'm sure I can't understand the complex feelings that arise from such an event, but shame should not be one of them. Blog on!

Sandy miller said...

Richard! Is there an equal word for a male Crone? Wizard? After looking on line I can't find one.

I think we need more Crone meet ups! I'm in!

Ruari said...

LOLOL I love it all. You can choose your friends but you don't get to choose your family and why would you want to as you would always be second guessing yourself!

Sandy miller said...

Ruari...... I think another awesome rule for life: Fish and relatives stink after 3 days :) or for those who spend most of their waking hours entertaining themselves and talking to chickens, it's 3 hours :)