A week ago I had the pleasure of spending a little time with these guys.
The Purkey brothers. It wasn't planned, it just happened which made it even more special. Bob, on the left, lives in Canada. Stewart, in the middle lives in Wisconsin and Tim (the baby) lives in the Grand Rapids area.
They were in town doing a "drive down memory lane" and I was hanging out on the river front with Augie.
As we stood near the water of our home town and chatted I was over come with memories.
Our parents were very, very good friends. My sisters and I adored them. As a matter of fact, Lisa and I told our mother that if anything ever happened to them, we wanted to live with Laura and "Purk." We didn't think it all the way through, however. What would it be like to live in a house with THREE BOYS???
Then I started thinking about the "three boys theme."
When we were very young we lived across the street from the three Irwin boys.
Then mom and dad built a house up near the hospital and we lived across from the three Curlin boys.
Besides loving Laura Purkey, we also loved Scotty Irwin who made the best fudge in the world and adored Carol Curlin who let us (me?) come over and glaze pottery.
Funny - I don't remember any families with just three daughters. That makes the Brachman girls very special, right?
There are no more Purkeys, Curlins or Irwins living here in Allegan. That makes me sad but I still have the memories.
Shining flashlights across the street to the Irwin house hoping one of those cute boys would signal back.
Hearing David Curlin singing a Glen Yarborough song outside one night.
Trying to TP Stewart Purkey's house before he TP'd mine.
Ahhh, the good old days.
Anyone want to hear about my sore glutes and hams? Wait, wait, don't touch that dial - this is going to be interesting and helpful.
I promise.
I've been having issues for several years with sore "you know whats" and my hamstrings.
I've tried various stretches and massage therapy which helped but was never good at staying with it so after a while the discomfort would return.
Recently I've been in a good bit of pain which took up residence right smack dab in the middle of my left butt cheek. It hurt all the damn time - I was miserable.
I know how to stretch the area but my sister, Lisa, showed me a yoga pose (the pigeon) which really helped. I didn't think I could do it at first - there was a lot of groaning - but I kept at it and could tell the difference after a week or so.
What really helped, along with the stretches, though was the tennis ball. Yup. Put one of those little bad boys underneath your back side and lie on the floor. Yowza, mama, it is amazing.
It's a little more involved than that but I'm telling you it has turned my life around.
I've used tennis balls before on my back but never thought about my rear end and hip area. I'm thanking Youtube for the visual tutorial. The bone cracker was cute, too, which helped.
Of course I still have some pain - I'm old - but nothing compared to a couple of months ago.
This was a public service announcement. You're welcome.
Were you schooled in table manners? I mean other than "don't chew with your mouth open."
I always thought that one was a given. All parents impart that wisdom, right?
Apparently not because I watched a teenager enjoying her dinner at the Butler in Saugatuck the other night and I don't believe her lips ever met. I was so happy I wasn't sitting across the table from her.
The other basic one is "no elbows on the table." I will freely admit that I break that one all the time - when I'm home alone and Miss Manners can't see me.
I remember when my friend, Stewart Purkey, came home from his junior year abroad (France) and showed me how the Europeans handle their cutlery.
Fork in the left hand (if you're right handed), tines down. Knife in the right. After cutting, place the knife down and move the fork over to your right hand.
I thought he was showing off and acting all superior . . . and then I started practicing that European style and felt oh so European.
Still at it.
When I was at Stephens College for Women (how's that for snotty) they were heavy into table manners. We dressed for dinner, etc. The only thing I came away with after my one illustrious year in Columbia was that you could reach for something on the table as long as your ass didn't leave your chair. Classy, eh?
Here's the one that I am holding fast to ever since I became aware of it several years ago.
Before you pick up the glass of whatever you're drinking, make sure to wipe your lips. If you don't, your glass with have an unsightly smudge on the rim. Grossssssssssssssssssss!
I've tried to drink without blotting because, well, I wasn't eating chocolate (for a change) or something else sure to leave a mark but I can not do it.
Also, a pet peeve of mine. Yes, I have more than one but this one is specific to the dining experience.
If you have to blow your nose - dude - get up and leave the frigging room!!!
Over and out. I'm feeling the need to blot my lips.
