New Year, New Story, No Excuses By C.P. Stringham

The MRI that revealed my daughter's brain lesion.

I admit it. I’m a grudge holder. I know it isn’t healthy. Let’s just say I won’t be sorry to see the backside of 2015. Yes, I’m holding an entire year accountable for my grudge. While many great events happened, my family experienced more than our fair share of health issues. These issues affect both of my children and will never go away. Still, I know things could be much worse, but, as a parent, these things just weigh heavy on the mind and heart. We always want what’s best for our kids and to protect them. Each has something that won’t simply go away. Focusing on that isn’t going to make it easier. I’ve resolved myself to the fact that, while I can’t fix things, I need to redirect my worries into something productive. Fixating is destructive. I’ve watched my two years of healthier eating and exercising go to the wayside in nine months of recklessness. I detest New Year’s resolutions, but here I am starting a new year and hoping to make changes. Oh, the irony.

I have leaned on social media to be my escape. Especially the last three years. I can’t even begin to estimate the hours I have spent liking, commenting, and posting on Facebook. As an indie author and a stay-at-home mom, let’s face it, I have very little outside interaction with the rest of the world. Facebook, in particular, filled that hole. And filled it. And filled it. While I have loved reconnecting with old classmates, past coworkers, and long lost relatives, I know I have to limit my time spent “connecting” and get back to engaging with the non-virtual world—the real world. That includes spending quality time with my children, returning to an exercise routine, pleasure reading, and WRITING. I can’t do that while absorbed in what everyone else is posting on Facebook. I need to be grounded in the here and now.

My beautiful family from a November photo session. Can you tell we're Elmira College proud? Or maybe we just really like wearing purple.

Speaking of writing, I’m at a crossroads. While I have four writing projects well past the halfway point in their progress. I have no desire at this time to finish them. I was content before with multitasking projects. Working on one when I felt the creative urge, but it’s been so long since I’ve revisited each story, I can’t seem to return to them. That doesn’t mean it will never happen, only that I need to move on to something else. Writers evolve over time. Our emotional state dictates what we write. It sets the tone for our creativity. I’m ready to write, but from a different place and that means a new, single-focused project. That also means promoting my work again by tweeting and blogging. Robin Janney - Author posted last week, so I hope this means the ladies at Broads of a Feather are back to our weekly blogging. 

Out with the old: writing projects on hold, but not forgotten.

Here’s hoping for a healthy and productive year with lots of personal change in habits! 

And in with the new: both in outline form. Do I want to work on a dark comedy or a women's fiction literature story?

Prom 1988 Versus 2015 By C.P. Stringham

Not one to pass up the chance for a good laugh, Syd
turns discarded Caution tape into a great photo prop!

For this week’s (last week’s since I’m a week late) Broads of a Feather blog post, I knew I wanted to write about my daughter’s prom which was held on April 25th. So it's okay that I'm so late! 

Sydney decided to get the most out of her senior year of high school by participating in all the activities she had passed up on in previous years. I guess better late then never. I reminded her that once she missed out on school opportunities like this she wouldn’t get a second chance. She’s an old soul in many ways. She loves discussing politics and social causes. Prefers being around an older crowd for that reason. Even likes older men. When I say older, I’m talking Alan Rickman, Bill Nighy, and John McMartin older. Syd doesn’t have a father complex, she has a grandfather complex. Whatever. I don’t have the extra money for a therapist to figure it out. She’s happy, so I’m happy. Who cares if my future son-in-law is as old as my father? Hopefully he’s loaded and good to her.

BFFSK: Sydney and Lesley in their kindergarten
class photo.

Sydney is a sharp dresser, but frugal. She loves shopping at secondhand clothing shops and The Sally (teen speak for the Salvation Army). She's also the lucky hand-me-down recipient for my career girl friends. Her closet consists of name brands like Calvin Klein, Ralph Lauren, Vera Wang, and Liz Claiborne. She loves dressing like a business professional every day for school. In fact, she’s only worn jeans once this past year. She dresses so nice, underclassmen sometimes mistake her for a substitute teacher. She’s also gone on field trips where she’s been mistaken as a teacher. So it came as no surprise when she decided to find her formal gowns in a similar fashion. While her homecoming and winter ball dresses came from The Sally, her prom dress came from Becca’s Closet. Becca’s Closet is a school-operated program where students can pick out from a wide variety of generously donated formal items at no cost. The program is managed by Interact Club (Rotary) and Syd has served as secretary for the past two years. During the two weeks leading up to each formal event, students can use their PM advisory period to “shop” Becca’s Closet. Syd took great pride in helping her fellow students find the perfect dress. She and her BFFSK (Best Friend Forever Since Kindergarten), Lesley, even made cleaning and organizing all of the donated items their first task before winter ball because it was left in complete disarray last year. While into the task, Syd came upon a gown she fell in love with. She tried talking other students into it because she found it to be so amazing. No luck. She went back and forth over it. She already had a gown at home from The Sally for prom, but there was something about this gown she loved. All it took was trying it on and then it came home with her. She had my mother attach the optional straps that came with it for her since strapless isn’t her thing. As the months passed by, a pair of shoes and a wrap were donated to Becca’s Closet that perfectly matched her dress. In the end, Syd spent $20.00 on a pair of black opera gloves for her prom look. Everything else was free.  

At the park for pictures: Alexandria and Shayley form a heart for Lesley and Sydney; the BFFSK all dolled up.

She made arrangements with her friend, Alexandria, to have her hair and makeup done at her house. She wanted her hair styled like Lorelei Gilmore had hers for the dance marathon episode. No fancy up-do for her. I was sort of bummed she wasn’t getting ready at home. It felt like I was being “prom-blocked.” Really. I was sad I wouldn’t get to see her to take pictures before she left. I even pouted. Syd gave in and we made arrangements so I had enough notice to follow them in to town to take some shots at a park before they went out to dinner. Happy mom. Syd invited Alexandria out to dinner with them as a thank you for her hair and makeup. She looked like a million bucks and proved that spending an insane amount of money on prom isn’t necessary. 

Top to bottom/Left to Right: Lesley and Sydney during dinner; a selfie with Alexandria and Shayley; Sydney with her prom court bouquet posing with Paisha and Lesley; their masquerade theme.  

As the evening went on, Lesley and I texted each other back and forth. Like me, Lesley isn’t in to dances and all the socializing that comes with it. As a fellow reading introvert, she finds being social to be just as exhausting as I do. Lesley filled me in about their night and even included selfies and two videos. The videos were to prove she was dancing! At 9:30, the girls let me know that they were ready to call it a night. I picked them up from school at 10:00 to find Sydney carrying a small bouquet of flowers. As she got into the SUV, her face split into a huge smile and she informed me she was voted to prom court—something she never considered a possibility. It totally made her night! Mine, too!

Taking a time machine to 1988 with my blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy (who had a Bieber hairdo before Bieber). 

When your child reaches their senior year, nostalgia creeps in when you realize how quickly the years have passed. It was only natural that Sydney’s prom made me remember elements of my own prom. I graduated in 1988 from a high school that merged the following year with our town rivals. (Goodbye, SRU Tigers! <sniff>) Our prom theme was Never Say Goodbye and it was held at the Sayre Elks Club. My husband and I are high school sweethearts so he was my date. He went on his own to get his tux and my mom made my gown since she is highly skilled in all things domestic goddess. She’s made wedding gowns and bridesmaid dresses numerous times in the past. Her cooking skills are incredible and she is an equally talented artist. She’s more Martha Stewart than Martha Stewart!

My best friends in 11^th and 12^th grade were Tiffani and Deb—the minister’s daughter and the butcher’s daughter. We were inseparable our senior year and had lots of great times together (I could tell some stories!). Tiffani’s dad was reluctant to let her attend prom at first and we had to help her talk him into it. Almost like a scene out of Footloose! But not quite because Pastor Craig gave in to our urging without a fight. He saw how important it was to us. Tiff was their oldest out of three daughters. This was new territory for them.

Left to Right: Tiffani with her date, Don, and Deb with her date, Beanie.

The day of prom came and we helped our class advisors, Mr. Stivason and Miss Russell, decorate the hall that morning. Later, we borrowed my future brother-in-law’s car and Marty spent the afternoon washing, waxing, and vacuuming it. He took me to dinner at the Cedar Inn in Elmira for Saturday prime rib. Our first solo formal dinner as a couple.

I was co-editor of our yearbook. It was a big honor for a senior. It was my third year belonging to the club and I took it very seriously. Yearbook sort of gave you an open reason for wandering the school without a hall pass since we were always doing something whether working on drumming up advertising revenue, looking for photo opportunities, doing artwork for layouts, or interviewing faculty members. Most teachers didn’t bother asking to see our pass—except for Mrs. Wolf because she was a stickler. On prom night, I found myself hanging out with our former principal, Mrs. Patrician, and her husband who were our honored guests as well as other teachers who were serving as chaperones. Lots of Bon Jovi played that night and slow dancing.

After the prom, one of my friend’s parents permitted a party with booze provided everyone’s keys were confiscated and each of our parents signed off on it. This is something I’ve been totally upfront about with my daughter. We have no secrets. Not everyone will agree with our parenting style, but I believe that teens who feel comfortable talking about things with their parents are more respectful and responsible. And so far, our daughter hasn’t disappointed us. In fact, she’s proved to be a remarkable young lady with a wonderful reputation. She’s graduating from high school with honors and received some hefty merit scholarships to each of the five colleges she applied to. I don’t know how many times we’ve had her teachers tell us how lucky we are, in this day and age, to have such a responsible, respectful, level-headed teen. She may not have the highest GPA, but she cares. Her former algebra teacher told me he would love to have a classroom full of Sydneys to teach. Another teacher told me he could count on her to run errands and not have to worry about her wasting time or getting into trouble. If she was given a task, it was done properly the first time. We have truly been blessed with her. She talks to me about everything and I am so thankful for the relationship we have. My husband and I know we can count on her to make good decisions while still being a kid. 

At any rate, getting back to my prom night, the party was great. Responsible drinking. No one left the party trashed and we had a safe environment. Only one of us got wasted. Nope. It wasn’t me. The pastor’s daughter was blowing chunks by 3AM! My husband didn’t drink that night. Instead, he was assigned the role of babysitter. So, as Tiffani vomited, he was stuck with the task of holding her hair back for her as the rest of us laughed and complained about the smell. Always the devoted preacher’s daughter, between barfing, Tiff mumbled, “Marty, please make sure I’m up in time to go to church in the morning. I promised my dad I wouldn’t miss church.” Marty told her he would make sure she was up in time. Throughout the rest of the night, we could hear Tiff talking as Marty sat up watching TV to pass the time. He sat in the armchair and Tiff was sprawled on the sofa with her head in a wastepaper basket which gave her voice an echo effect. The rest of us were in the neighboring room either sleeping on their sleeper sofa or on the floor. As morning neared, Tiff’s puking began to subside and we heard her say, “Marty, am I going to die?” to which he replied, “No, Tiff, you’re not going to die.” “Good because I have to go to church.” Tiff fell asleep soon after and didn’t make it to church that morning. And Marty tried to wake her at 7AM. She was out cold—with her head in the garbage. Tiff never could hold her liquor. 

I Went to a Barn Party to Wreak Hovac with My Old Friends By C.P. Stringham

A few photos from my photoshoot with Mr. & Mrs. Nicholas

As a romance writer, I have a soft spot for real life love stories and happily-ever-afters. It’s a nice change to share in someone else’s good fortune. Our instantaneous access to all the horrors happening around the world leaves us in desperate need of positive, feel-good stories—which seem to have trouble making it into the news cycle. I refuse to accept that there aren’t enough good stories to go around. Refuse. I can’t even blame this shortage solely on the news media. Folks seem quick to jump onto the negativity bandwagon when it comes to sensationalized news. Take a moment to consider some of the posts you see on Facebook. Nine times out of ten, your circle of friends are more prone to post a status in which they complain about something; their relationship or family member drama, bad customer service they received somewhere, or even political stuff. As you reflect on this, you may even realize you’re guilty of the same behavior. Oh, I’m not immune to this either. I do my fair share of slinging the negative although I do make a conscious effort to keep my statuses positive. I prefer making people smile at good news or laugh at something silly I posted—usually something from my self-deprecating variety of humor.

L to R: Everything looked amazing! Don't tell my mother, but this is the best cake I've EVER had!

Top to bottom: The bride and groom feeding each other
their wedding cake; the group at our table watching; my
tequila buddy, Randy and me. 

This past Saturday night, my family and I attended a wonderful barn party held at Rockin’ N Stables & Ranch (click here for the link) to celebrate the recent marriage of its owners, Monte and Nancy. Each of them were married before and chose to tie the knot, this time around, in a simple, private ceremony with the plans of holding their reception at a later date. For their wedding present, I set up a photoshoot with them and took pics around their gorgeous facility.

Getting back on topic, their courtship counts as one of those happily-ever-afters I mentioned. They met at an equestrian event and have been inseparable since. Nancy told me, “When I first saw him riding his horse and wearing his cowboy hat, he had me.” Yes, Monte is a real cowboy, born and raised in Utah and sitting in a saddle at a young age. His knowledge and love of horses was handed down to him from his father who was also a cowboy and broke and trained. Nancy is a long time horsewoman. Has loved them since she was a little girl and, as other horse people know, once horse fever hits, it doesn’t ever go away. Because of their backgrounds, the two complement each other perfectly. They work together nicely and, for that reason, their business, which opened almost a year ago, has earned a great reputation within our local horsemen community and is flourishing.

Top to Bottom: The members of Operation Rodeo, Shannon,
Sean, and Syd; yours truly and Carolyn; Carolyn, Syd, and
Hillary. 

Rockin N’s large indoor arena was transformed into a wonderful barn party venue. Tables and chairs, decorated with a country autumn theme, were set up to accommodate 90 jovial guests dressed in jeans, cowboy boots, plaid shirts, and men wearing cowboy hats or baseball caps. Space was left for a dance floor. Lou, the DJ, welcomed us and offered a message from Monte and Nancy in which they thanked all of their family, friends, and clients for their support, love, and friendship and then Nancy’s sister, June, toasted the newlyweds. She introduced Richard Houck who delivered the blessing. As he finished, tables were sent to the buffet line. The Nicholas’ hired the catering services of one of our favorite local eateries, Soprano’s Italian Market (click here for their Facebook page). Now, hold that thought…

Unsolicited Author Endorsement: If you haven’t treated yourself to Soprano’s fabulous homemade entrees and specialty desserts, you don’t know what you’re missing. I highly recommend their loaded breakfast pizza and cannoli! Their cannoli is just as incredible as what you’d find at a bakery in NYC’s Italian district. No lie. They make all of their own breads and rolls, too, as well as sell dried pastas and incredible deli items—Soppressata!

Top to Bottom: Country girls and boys getting down on the
farm; my husband and Mackenzie dancing; Monte took
Pat out for a turn around the dance floor.   

…Back to the shindig. Country music played over their new state-of-the-art sound system and spirits among guests were high. Soda, red Solo cups with wine, and cans of beer were clutched as we mingled. Dancing was encouraged and folks took to taking spins around the make-shift dance floor. Happiest in our family about the dancing was my youngest. She loves to show off her “moves.” Of course, her musical tastes range from Hip-Hop to Dance, but the friendly DJ catered to her likes and played a song each by Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas. Nancy encouraged her dancing and Mackenzie was in her glory shaking her groove thing. She even got asked to a slow dance with Monte—her first slow dance. I loved it. The Nicholas’ are so compassionate and understanding with her and it truly means so much to me. She’s accepted and included at Rockin’ N. Her classmate, Brittany, who is one of Nancy’s lesson students, is just as wonderful with Mackenzie. Brittany’s parents have raised her right. 

Now, while the bride and groom were busy celebrating, Carolyn Mosher (click here for the link to my previous post, Battle from the Saddle), mentioned “horning parties” (here’s another link to click on about pranking newlyweds), and I’d never heard of it. Hillary Dorazio, also standing in conversation with us, was familiar with the term and helped Carolyn explain. According to Carolyn, "It takes place after the newlyweds have moved into their house as a way to welcome them to the neighborhood--think of it as a housewarming party (with friends)  and is meant to be simple fun with nothing taken personal. Besides, you could find out what the wife could cook up in a hurry." By that, Carolyn said the uninvited guests show up late at night, and ask for something to eat. In order to feed their guests, the newlyweds scramble to prepare something.  While this is going on, people take turns slipping away unnoticed to play pranks. She mentioned mismatching socks, hiding items, and so on. Hillary even told us about taking the bride’s bras from the dresser, wetting them down, and slipping them into the freezer! Now that is cold. You get the general idea. That’s when the wheels started turning and six faces held devious smiles. Hillary, Carolyn, Carolyn’s son, Sean, my daughter, Sydney, and our friends’ daughter, Shannon, began to plot. And, I’ll be honest, Syd and Shannon were against it when they found out we were serious. Syd is always a goody-two-shoes and Shannon is a future Navy servicewoman who seemed to think it would cause trouble. But we were able to bring them over to the dark side. Using the rear door of the indoor arena, we slipped out, unnoticed and began by toilet papering the shrubbery outside of their house. Monte’s lasso was in his truck so it was used to tie his truck and Nancy’s SVU together. Inside his truck, the windshield wipers were switched on high and the radio volume cranked up all the way so that when he started the engine, everything would come on. His seats were moved and the steering wheel adjusted. When we were done, we decided it wasn’t enough. The toilet paper taken from the porta john wasn’t nearly enough. That’s when we sent Sean, Syd, and Shannon for more provisions including plastic wrap. Carolyn, Hillary, and I made it back to the barn without anyone knowing we’d disappeared—except my husband, youngest daughter, and my children’s riding instructor, Pat. We explained to them what was going on and they laughed, but offered a warning about paybacks. The kids called to let us know they were back. Carolyn and I stayed as lookouts while Hillary returned to, what Shannon, the military kid, designated as “Operation Rodeo.” Nancy’s son, Suede, and his friend were involved at that point as well. Suede took the toilet paper and hit the trees in their front yard. More TP was added to the shrubs. Sean and Hillary began using plastic wrap to seal their vehicles. A condom was even pulled over the front doorknob. Kids. They returned to the party and no one was the wiser. Carolyn apologized for corrupting my daughter even though I agreed, wholeheartedly, to our turn at mischief. (I'll blame my poor judgment on beer and the shot of tequila I had with Linda's husband, Randy!) 

Mischief managed during Operation Rodeo!

The next morning, we found out that Monte’s poor coworkers were blamed for it. (Hahahahah!!) When Shannon’s mom, Linda, told them who the culprits really were, they were stunned. I guess we have a reputation of innocence. Truth be told, I’d never done anything like that in my life, but I got to tell ya, it was FUN! I got a taste of what it is like to be a troublemaker. And my daughter is always too serious most of the time. Even at the risk of Monte and Nancy banning us from the barn, I’m glad Syd had the opportunity to be a rebel and tarnish her sterling reputation—even if it was a one-time thing. It was good for Shannon, too. Next year, she’ll be a sailor and have to toe the mark all the time.   

Monte and Nancy, congratulations and thank you, so very, very much, for including my family and me in your special night. We wish you all the best for a long, happy, and healthy life together, LIVING THE DREAM. We had a fantastic time and lots of great memories were made. I even got to be a bad girl. I owe you a slave-for-a-day favor to make up for the horning party. Syd, too. Oh, and thank you for sharing your happily-ever-after with us. 

*Special thanks to Linda Rightmire for sharing some of her pictures for the blog!