The Stupid Rocks

Better late than never....

My alarm was set for 4:30. Momma said we were going to leave at 5:00 in the morning. I should have guessed that this wouldn't happen. It's my family. We can't be on time for anything. It's in our blood. I was woken up by my lovely mother pounding on my door and yelling, "Annastazia Caroline Stofer! Get your lazy butt out of bed, and clean your room before we leave! It is 6 o'clock! Let's go!" I rolled off of my bed and a solid thud bounced off of my wood floors. I got up and walked out into the hallway where the grumpy woman was standing. She kissed my forehead and says, "You look like crap and you smell like sweat." I rolled my eyes and said, "I love you too!" as I walked down stairs. My parents aren't very fond of the fact that I only wear a sports bra and spandex shorts to bed, so naturally as I walked by my also grumpy father he said, "Still haven't listened to me about putting on more clothes I see." (One morning last week, my Daddy came in my room around 4:30 to kiss me goodbye before he left for work, and he said, "You know, for someone who always complains about being cold all the time, you sure don't wear a lot to bed. You need to put some more clothes on." I tried explaining the "lesser amounts of clothing" theory that I have been so avidly pursuing since like January, but I stopped in mid sentence, he wouldn't understand.) We all got dressed, ready, and packed. We left around 7:00.

We specifically told my grandparents not to start laying sod until we were there to help them, yet as we pulled into their driveway, both of them where on their hands and knees pounding sod into the sandy, lifeless ground. We immediately took over, sending Grandma into the house to prepare for lunch and Grandpa across the lake to go get more sod. It was my job to crawl along the rows and lift edges of sod and fold them inward so that they looked seamless. It was a pretty easy job except that I had an allergic reaction to the grass because my knees got all nasty. Nothing that an allergy pill couldn't fix, and this time of the year, we keep a good stock of those. After lunch, Momma, Robin (she is my Momma's cousin, she lives in Westminster, CO, she is a pretty awesome lady), and I went into town. When it started sprinkling, we headed home again to make sure that they didn't need to get the sod down before the rain came. As we pulled up to the corner, we noticed that the roads were really wet. As we pulled into the yard, no one was out there laying sod. The tractor-lifty-thingy with the load of sod was parked only partially in the garage, and there was mud and hail all over the cement. Needless to say, they thought they could finish it in the rain, but chickened out when the hail came. Soon after that, my lovely, amazing friend Sydni came! We spent the afternoon hanging out, and we were about to leave for Grant when a huge storm blew in. Daddy didn't want us to leave, so Syd and I sat in the basement and watched the beautiful storm from the big windows down there. Eventually it cleared up and Daddy let us go. Robin, Momma, Syd, and I went to go visit my friend Allison. After that we went home and got ready for bed. I painted my nails, and Syd and I just talked. It was awesome to have some girl talk time. Finally we decided to go to sleep, but that lasted a mere two minutes before both of us were flapping our jaws again. Around 3 in the morning, I woke up huddled in a small section of the bed with no blankets or sheets, and Syd's foot was in my back. This is funny because the exact opposite happened when she stayed with me after All-State in November.

Sunday morning, I woke up entirely too early. The whole time zone change really messed with my daily routine. As I hazily climbed the stairs, I heard something that made me want to cry and leap for joy at the same time. Rain. It was working wonders on the sod that we slaved over, but it would make my hair freak the freak out. I checked the weather. It was supposed to rain all day. Wonderful. "Hey Blondie, if you are going to flat iron your hair you had better get started." Grandma said so cheerfully from the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen smelling the delicious smell of her homemade egg casserole. "I think I'll just wear it curly today, if I straighten it the rain will just ruin it." She laughed, "That's my girl, now go get in the shower, you have terrible bed-head."

It was still pouring down rain when Rudy and I left the house for Sunday School. I managed to step in a huge puddle with my non-weather-resistant gladiator sandals. It was great to be in my old Sunday School class. I got to see my wonderful friends, Carlie and Sadie. About half way through the sermon, the power went out. Drew continued to preach, but I could not see my bible to follow along, and I couldn't see what I was writing in my notebook, and I am very avid about the way I take sermon notes. It stayed out for a couple of minutes, and then quickly came back on. Rounds of "Let there be light!" and "And all God's people said: Amen!" rang through the congregation, it was quite funny. After church, we went back to Grandma's house where Syd had been for about an hour and a couple minutes later, Celie, Jenny, and Byron showed up. In my family we have this unwritten rule that you don't start eating until everyone invited has either showed up, said they were not coming, or gave you consent to start eating. We were still waiting on Elijah, Evan, and Micah, so we didn't eat. It was funny because I kept getting the evil eye from my sister. She even whispered in my ear, "Do you think Grandma would notice if I ate my food under the table where no one can see me?" I laughed and told her to go entertain her friend. After about an hour, we just decided to start eating. Soon after we all finished dessert, Elijah showed up, so it was starting to feel like the entire group. Byron was relieved because he was no longer the only guy. Time seemed to fly by so fast. Mom and Elle left to go back home. Rather than having me drive back by myself on Monday, Dad and Rudy stayed back with me. After everyone left, I cried.  Especially since I won't see them until mid-July. Goodbyes are always hard for me. Eventually I cried myself to sleep, only to wake  up two hours later. I watched a couple of Indian Jones movies with my Grandma, and then I went to bed again. (The best part about the Indian Jones movies was that I recognized most of the music from our "John Williams Trilogy" song in band this year.)

Monday morning, I had to be in Ogallala at 7:30 for an orthodontist appointment. The first thing that I was asked was, "How is your Pre-Finisher wearing going?" I giggled and sarcastically said, "Way better than wearing that stupid headgear." They thought that was funny, but I was being completely serious. They took impressions of my teeth so that they can make a retainer. And much to Momma's displeasure, we have to go to the office in Kearney in four weeks to have a "retainer check". I called Momma after the appointment and she said, "They are crazy if they think that I am driving all the way out to Kearney just for them to take one look at your expensive mouth and tell you that you are doing it right." "Hey, it's better than driving all the way to Ogallala", I said plainly. She hung up. Back at Grandma's, while Rudy and Daddy where loading up the trailer with another load of farm equipment, Grandma and I stripped all of the beds, and washed all of the bedding and towels. I love my Grandma so much. Her and I are so much alike. Everything from our stubbornness to our officious hospitality traits. From our Illg laugh (which I am glad that none of you had to hear this weekend) to our Restless Leg Syndrome. From our breathing problems after eating chocolate ice cream to our love of sewing. (Despite my six years of sewing in Girls of Grace, I still think that I learned how to sew most from Grandma.) When I was little my family called me Baby-Brenda or Baby-Illg. (Illg is Grandma's maiden name.) Grandma and I could sit and talk for hours and never run out of things to talk about. I really miss her. She is the hardest to say goodbye to every time.

As I loaded all of my stuff into the pick-up, tears were already swelling. Swelling led to streaming and soon I was bawling. I cried all the way past the Paxton exit where I finally fell asleep. I woke up to my brother saying, "Wake up or starve." I looked at my phone. Lunch time. After lunch as we were walking back to the pick-up, Daddy went to tighten one of the straps on the trailer. He mumbled, "These stupid rocks." I lost it. I started laughing uncontrollably. Okay, flashback.... about 7ish years ago, Dad was down on the bottom ground (the alfalfa field), and he found a bunch of large rocks. He brought one up to the house strapped to the loader of the tractor for Momma to see. She immediately fell in love, and made him bring up as many of them as he could. She went on a landscaping craze. Which is why our yard has clumps of large rocks in it now. Anyway, when we moved out to Ogallala, Mom and Dad had a big fight about whether or not the rocks were coming with us or not. Mom won that argument, but Dad only let her choose 4. So naturally, she chose the 4 biggest rocks. In Ogallala these rocks sat untouched at the south end of our property. When we sold our house, we only sold the lot that the house was on, so we still own the other 10 acre lot. So when moving day came, we just moved everything over to our side of the property line. This included farm equipment, a pick-up, and the rocks. So now, Mom wants the rocks back here, so Dad had to go through the daunting task of moving these stupid things again... end flashback. I don't understand why Dad seems to think that he needs all of his farm equipment, the land that we used to own here isn't ours anymore. But he seems to think that he needs everything here. (Supposedly he is going to teach me how to drive a tractor this summer. It can't be that difficult. The rabbit means fast and the turtle means slow. Simple as that, right?)

As we got back on the interstate, I fell asleep and I didn't wake up until I heard my Dad yell, "Spanka!  ("Spanka" is a shortened version of "Spanka-Wanka". My Dad and my Uncle called me this a lot when I was younger because I was a naughty child and received a lot of spankings.) Wake up and get your stuff out of here! You need to drive the grey car home." I looked out the window, we were sitting at a car-fixer place in Lincoln, and in front of the building sat the grey car. After I got in the car I realized that I had no idea where I was. I tried following Dad, but he sped, and never used his blinkers. Eventually I found my way home. Lincoln isn't that hard to navigate. It's was easier than Omaha. I was happy to be home.