Neighbors, Fish, & Random Things

Rowena tagged me for six random things. Her art is beautiful and she’s cool too. Go see for yourself. Her tag is well-timed since I’m storied out. So, here is a random photograph, and six random things. Make of them what you will–as if I could stop you.

the neighbors caddy corner from us
the neighbors caddy corner from us

1. When I was 6, my neighbor’s husband and his friends took me alligator hunting on an airboat. They put the dead 8 ft. alligator in a box under my seat.

2. My dad’s favorite story about me is when I was two. He put my playpen in his boat and took me fishing. The catfish he caught swung back and hit me in the face and covered me in fish gunk. I laughed and laughed–according to dad.

3. I feel compelled to eat M&M’s in a specific color order. Really, things that comes in different colors I will compulsively put in the order of the rainbow–red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.

4. Rooftops are awesome. Given an chance, I will climb up on one. Now that I think about it, it has been too long since I’ve been on a rooftop…

5. When I was 5, I thought the wolf from Peter and the Wolf lived in our toilet.

6. I had about ten imaginary friends as a child. We played tag in the back yard.

Oh, which cyberspace friends shall I tag? I know some people are not into this sort of thing, so ignore this if you wish. No bad luck is attached. Actually, what I would really like is for each of you to tell me one random thing about yourself. Pretend we are having a coffee–or an ice cream at DQ–and you are struck by some random thought you want share.

9 thoughts on “Neighbors, Fish, & Random Things

  1. I’m afraid of heights but I do love the view from on top of things. Just as long as there is a railing or if not, I stay away from the edge. You should see me having heart palpitations trying to enjoy the Grand Canyon – LOL!

  2. If I think of it over the next few days, maybe I’ll do a rooftop photo essay. This house, which I guess you could say is “contemporary style,” has a really interesting roof — especially to somebody who’s used to traditional floor plans (colonial, Cape Cod, ranch, etc.). (If it weren’t for things like insurance, liability lawsuits and the like, I’d suggest a rooftop blog party.)

    One of my family’s favorite random thoughts came from my Uncle Jack. (He’s about midway in age between my mother and the rest of us, so he socialized with us as much as any of our friends did.) A bunch of us were sitting around talking about some topic — nobody remembers what the context was anymore, just the thought that interrupted it. There was a lull in conversation, and Jack said, “You know, [Aunt’s name] and I have almost given up potatoes.” (We hadn’t been talking about food, diets, or potatoes in particular.) To this day, that line is a surefire way to turn a lull into a long conversation full of memories.

    Okay, random thought of my own: I tend to notice and sometimes remember license-plate numbers. When I was growing up, the tag on our cars for a long time was EIR-335. (In NJ, at least back then, you could keep the same tag number as you got different cars.) The first girl I had a major crush on drove a Rambler, tag # PAJ-804. I once convinced her — when we weren’t near her car, so she couldn’t check for herself — that that was the number on the rear of the car; in NJ, I said, cars had even numbers on the back and odd numbers in the front (“Yours is PAJ-803”). This was to help police dispatchers: when someone reported a problem car’s license-plate number, the dispatched would know whether the car was coming or going relative to the eyewitness.

  3. When I was a child I slammed two fingers in a sliding glass door and lost both fingernails. But that is how I learned my right from left. Because I knew my sore fingers were on my right hand.

  4. I love randomness. Thanks for playing and glad I could inspire a post. Sometimes the random things can really paint a picture of who a person is and what their life has been like.

    Alligators under the seat!

  5. Great facts!

    Here’s one from my childhood: The first time I went to the dentist (age 5?), I somehow got the idea that the dentist would be a muskrat. I was very disappointed when he was an ordinary man.

    Well, not so ordinary. He never gave me Novocaine or any painkiller when drilling cavaties. My mother had no idea until recently when I told her.

    He’s dead now.

  6. Pamela

    SBW, I feel your pain. I had a dentist do the same thing when I was around 5. My mother knew the entire time that he did not give Novocaine for pain to children. The dentist had tried not to use it when filling her cavaties a couple of weeks before filling mine. She insisted he use it on her. She got the Novocaine.

    Here’s something random apart from the shared painful experience.
    I have a relative who’s friend named her daughter Random.

  7. loriaustex

    Insta-random: when I was six, I ran away from home (in New York State) to go be a cowgirl in Texas, where all the wild horses lived and where I could get a horse and ride. I got the spanking of my life when I returned (Texas was a lot further away than I thought; and it took a number of years to actually find it).

    Next insta-random: when I was seven, I took a ceramics class for kids. I made an astronaut out of clay, and was told I could put glaze on it to make it glossy. I understood that there was a transparent glaze, and after asking the nice lady teacher about it (“yes, it will turn clear in the kiln”) I used it thinking my astronaut would come out of the kiln a block of beautiful clear thick glass. I was ssssssso disappointed he came out clay-brick-red and merely very shiny.

    Last random: at that same class, I learned how to make sassafras tea.

  8. When I was living in France I went down south to Cezanne territory, but I had just missed seeing the museum which is now his house. I stayed outside and pounded on the gate. Some old man finally saw me and came over to tell me their were closed. I begged, in my breathless French, to see some small portion as I only had a few hours in the town. He finally opened up the gate and let me in. He was Cezanne’s great grandson and he gave me a personal tour of the house, just us, and he let me touch one of his paintbrushes.

    I never lack for inspiration since then

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