The Yellow Paper Tablet

On Saturday Mornings, we kids would go down the stairs to face the yellow paper tablet. My dad always made a list of chores that we had to do no questions asked on the famous tablet. Some were inside chores; some were outside chores. Some were more desirable; some were crappy. (for example: picking up St. Bernard dog dung) My sister and I have sworn off yellow legal tablets. We only use white.

We knew get the list done, ask for an inspection and then you can go on your merry way.

My kids have regular chores and we have a revolving chore list called the next list. This way we don't have to keep track of whose turn it is to empty trash etc. It seems to work well and we've had to make some courtesy rules such as if the next person isn't home that we skip and go back.

Lately, the kids are so focused on getting to their friends that they get resentful when there are extra chores.

This past Saturday, I woke up early and bought my dad and I coffee from Dunkin'Donuts and went to have a chat with him.

I left the kids a list on a bright orange piece of paper. (not yellow) Each kid had to do their assigned bathroom chores, clean up room, come up with the laundry plan on who get the machine first, and two out of the ordinary extra chores were added to the list. I said I'd be back to inspect and then they could have the rest of the day to themselves. How fair is that? I should have no arguments (because I'm at my dad's), they have the choice of how fast they want to work, and all should go real smooth. Boy, I'm I smart-- I thought.

I got home about an hour after they all were up and some kiddos felt they were done. Of course my inspections were not matching what they felt was quality. "A" got upset because I didn't think toothpaste on the mirror was acceptable even if it was only one drop.

I left and then heard crying. "Knock of the crying", I yelled. He replied, "No Mom, come here it is an emergency." He tried to use his muscle to get the spot off and the mirror (68 by 42 inches) cracked. Anger of course had nothing to do with it.

Two hours of telephone calls and Internet searches later, A and I went shopping. Two hours of pure shopping frustration led to the decision that we are not going to get to replace this mirror easily or cheaply.

We finally found a framed mirror 62 inches by 38 inches that will look good on the wall above the sinks. Now we get to paint and hang the mirror.

Maybe it was the orange paper. Somehow the list idea didn't turn out quite the way I imagined. I'm going out to buy a yellow tablet tonight.

I Love You Best-- the True Story

Now that you know about my engagement bed... You'll appreciate this story a little more.


The week before my wedding my mom, dad, sister came and stayed with me in my wonderfully (sarcasm) furnished apartment. Now it was minus the kitchen table. Paul generously moved his couch in to my apartment so my sister and I could have somewhere to sleep. My parents got the engagement bed.

My poor father got Cedar Fever as he calls it and was very sick. After, nursing his needs, tucking him into bed, and telling him thank you for everything he leaned his head past mine and told my sister, " I love you best".

I surprisingly exclaimed, " I feed you, give you medicine, tuck you in and give you my bed and you love her best. "

He laughed... He said, " I love your vest" She was wearing a cute Christmas vest.


Here's the true part... I wasn't truly hurt just acting the role... my sister swears I was really hurt. I'm telling the truth.

Anyways... That has become a game my dad, mom, sister and I play with each other. When we greet or leave each other especially within earshot of the others we remind each other that , "I love you best". We even have codes for it... I heart U B, etc.

The Engagement Bed

After graduation I moved into a unfurnished apartment. Paul and I were getting married at the end of December so I didn't want to invest in furniture when he already had furniture (if you want to call stuff he pulled from garage sales or the back of the dorms-- furniture) The only furniture I had was a TV I found in the garbage, a few throw pillows, a kitchen table made out of ply wood my roommate's dad cut in the shape of a circle resting on cement bricks and a cheap dresser and night stand I cleaned apartments for in exchange. Billy (my roommate--female) was getting married in March and moving home in December so she didn't want furniture either.

My first paycheck, after beginning teaching I bought a new pair of glasses. I had glasses that were wired at the hinges and welded by the same friend's father.

The second paycheck paid for our rings. I wanted a ring just a simple band would do. I didn't care that I didn't have an engagement ring but I wanted a ring. Paul didn't want a ring but we compromised that he had to get one and wear it the day we got married and then I could care less if he ever wore it again. My parents flew us to Missouri for a "shower" put on by my Grandma and Cousins and for the final fitting of my dress. While we were there I used the paycheck money to get the rings. $210 for the set. The cool thing was the store was at the end of my Mema's (Grandma's)street and my mom and dad got their rings from the same jeweler.

Paul and I were wondering what we were going to do for a bed. He had a twin bed... I had none. So we saved 1/2 of my paychecks for three more pay periods and had $1000 to go buy a bed.

Since I never had an engagement ring-- I called it my engagement bed. Now if you are wondering... my dad never liked the name of it. I loved this bed. It was California King and my mom promised a wedding quilt to fit it. She did come through and oh how lovely it was.

My dad told me to quit calling it "engagement" bed. He reminded me that my new name was going to be winter and he didn't like early winters. I honestly didn't get the joke the first 20 times or so.

By the way... no early winters and I still have the same bed. 17 years later.

OK West

For Christmas, my mother and her siblings made a book of 101 memories of their mom and dad. The book they published together is called OK WEST The Story of George and Eleanor Knipp.

I'd like to share the forward...

The tile of this book, "OK WEST", is based upon a treasured tale of the family of George and Eleanor Knipp as told by their children.
When we traveled Dad and Mom would sometimes go south from the home place towards town. This route went across an unguarded railroad track by our neighbor's house. Dad would drive, Mom, a front seat passenger, Len in the front between Mom and Dad, with Joy, Larry and Ruth in the back seat. Mom would look down the railroad track toward the west and and as a sign of help and caring she would tell dad, "OK WEST", meaning there were no trains coming from that direction. It got to be a habit and after a while we kids would automatically say "OK WEST" even though we didn't even look for trains. Mom and Dad would simply smile and proceed.
Looking Back, "OK WEST" came to symbolize the loving partnership Dad and Mom shared as well as the fact that every ting was all right.
What could be more fitting title to a book about Dad and Mom & Our Family than "OK WEST"?

I had the privilege and not so privilege of moving around a lot as a child until my college years. I loved the new places and people but not having a home place was somewhat a desire I had. My folks made sure we knew family even though I never lived in the same town as family until my own children were all born. The farm in Missouri where OK WEST takes place is what I imagined as my home place. The farm house had so many hidden treasures as the farm itself. After Grandpa died at 60 and I was only 4 my Aunt and Uncle took over the farm so we still had the farm until my Uncle's death while I was in college. Grandma had a town house that had a basement and an open field next to it too.


My next postings will be some of these memories as well as some of my 101 memories of my mom and dad. My sister and I need to start on our book about them... I know even without asking her we'll entitle it... I Love You Best!

More to come....