I highly recommend www.shabbyblogs.com and www.thecutestblogontheblock.com. This blog has been decorated by both of these helpful websites, and the best part of it is it's FREE!!!!! I am very grateful to these women for making these applications available to us for FREE.
What a wonderful blessing you are to us. I thank Heavenly Father for these kind women.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
New Look!
I realize none of you have seen this blog before, but I must let you know that I changed it's look today. It took me a very long time to do it. How long? Mmmmmm......four hours or so.
I must say I am happy with the results thanks to Shabby Blogs. Yes! I am very happy to have found you, Shabby Blogs. It is the best!!!! It took me some time to find the one that would look good with what I had, and then to make the picture, title and reason for the blog to work for me.
I have heaved a gigantic sigh of relief. I am sure you all felt it and did not know why. Once Christmas 2010 hits; then you will say, "That's why I felt all that tension on Memorial Day weekend, and then a huge relief." Yes, you were feeling your kid sister's stress.
Yay! It's done....well, almost. This is a work in progress. I am getting really excited for all of you to see this on Christmas. I can't wait...I can't wait...I can not wait...until Christmas. I only hope I do not bust into a million pieces with this secret. I must admit I did tell Jovanni about it, and Meghan knew about the family history book Christmas present. I started working on it the first year I home schooled Meghan. However, she does not know about the blog.
Only Jovanni and Glenn know about it. OK, Jovanni knows because I only wanted to tell one person (Glenn) and he wasn't home when I started this; so, you know me. I HAD to tell somebody because I was SUPER DUPER excited about this blog. Glenn found out today because I needed him to see the header and blog to make sure the colors complimented each other. He's the artist and composition man of the family. I trust his eye for detail. I hope these two can keep my secret. Well, if anyone else finds out it better not be from me.
Now I am going to try to add some fun stuff. Then I must go to bed. It's really late.
I must say I am happy with the results thanks to Shabby Blogs. Yes! I am very happy to have found you, Shabby Blogs. It is the best!!!! It took me some time to find the one that would look good with what I had, and then to make the picture, title and reason for the blog to work for me.
I have heaved a gigantic sigh of relief. I am sure you all felt it and did not know why. Once Christmas 2010 hits; then you will say, "That's why I felt all that tension on Memorial Day weekend, and then a huge relief." Yes, you were feeling your kid sister's stress.
Yay! It's done....well, almost. This is a work in progress. I am getting really excited for all of you to see this on Christmas. I can't wait...I can't wait...I can not wait...until Christmas. I only hope I do not bust into a million pieces with this secret. I must admit I did tell Jovanni about it, and Meghan knew about the family history book Christmas present. I started working on it the first year I home schooled Meghan. However, she does not know about the blog.
Only Jovanni and Glenn know about it. OK, Jovanni knows because I only wanted to tell one person (Glenn) and he wasn't home when I started this; so, you know me. I HAD to tell somebody because I was SUPER DUPER excited about this blog. Glenn found out today because I needed him to see the header and blog to make sure the colors complimented each other. He's the artist and composition man of the family. I trust his eye for detail. I hope these two can keep my secret. Well, if anyone else finds out it better not be from me.
Now I am going to try to add some fun stuff. Then I must go to bed. It's really late.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Yay!
I'm done entering all the stuff I had on my computer for Dad/Frankie. I can start on Mom's stuff now. Wooo Hooo!!! I have more stories I want to put in here about Dad. Like how he had all these different jobs and Steve would tease him about it. The big wooden fork and spoon Mom had on her wall. I think there is an Everybody Loves Raymond about those decorations. These are just the funny stories with Dad.
I have not forgotten the grandchildren. Jovanni brushing his hair, and Ish's diaper change, which are the first two that come to my mind.
I want to start on Mom's since I only have until Christmas to write something in here about everybody in the family. I don't expect to have everything written down by Christmas, but just enough to represent everyone. This is an ongoing project that I hope EVERYONE will like and help (hint, hint) me work on it.
I have not forgotten the grandchildren. Jovanni brushing his hair, and Ish's diaper change, which are the first two that come to my mind.
I want to start on Mom's since I only have until Christmas to write something in here about everybody in the family. I don't expect to have everything written down by Christmas, but just enough to represent everyone. This is an ongoing project that I hope EVERYONE will like and help (hint, hint) me work on it.
Francisco and Practical Jokes by Mia
The following stories I tell because I think they reflect the relationship between the men in the family quite well (my opinion). Although most of his sons were jokers and played jokes on him, I cannot recall Rodrigo or Abel playing a trick on my Dad. However, if you do know of one, please feel free to add it....it'll only take...mmm....what....ten minutes of your time. Anyway, to be honest, Abel was a joker, but he was sneaky and really hard to catch in the act. The others: Ish, Steve, and Sergio loved to display, shall I call it a "rare talent", of jokes on my poor unsuspecting father. Remember these stories are from my memory vault. Enjoy!
MY BIG BROTHER ISH:
This story takes place in Yuma. The players are Dad, Mom and Ish. I was the observer. Ish had come down to visit from Phoenix. He was staying for the weekend. This was long before he was married or a father of his own. My mother, as you may already know, was ALWAYS on top of her housework. Everything was in it's place and everything had a place of it's own. If there was a race for home cleanliness, Mom would most definitely be at the front of it. Never was there a speck of something out of place or mess or anything to that nature. Nothing escaped her fastidious eye. To say she was diligent in her housekeeping was to say the sun would rise again tomorrow. Are you getting the picture? Oh, in today's terms, you could say she was a bit OCD.
Enter into the scene one joker, named Ish. He tried his joke on Mom, but it FAILED. They could NEVER get Mom. Here's a brief description of the joke: In our hallway was a long plastic runner. On one side it was smooth, and the other side had little triangular pokes that would embed themselves into the carpet. They were meant to keep the carpet from moving. (See: www.shoplet.com and search floor vinyl runner for a visual)
What did he do? He flipped it over hoping to catch some poor soul walking without shoes.
Mom caught it and said to herself, "Who did this?" Then she fixed it, of course. He came back into the house (for he ran outside to avoid suspicion) to flip it over again, and ran outside again. Out came Dad and walked right into the trap. Up he flew into the air, and came crashing to the ground with a thud and a moan. Once on his side, he began to rub his injured feet, and laid into my poor Mom. He told her she needed to pay more attention to what she was doing around the house because it never crossed his mind Ish would have done this to him.
Ish was outside laughing while seated on a chair/his alibi. His body shaking with the laughter he was trying to suppress inside. The scolding continued. Mom defended herself by saying she had found it turned and fixed it. I was just watching it all. Yes, I was laughing. It was funny. Mom put on her "detective eye" and began to investigate the scene. She came in the living room and saw me sitting there with a craft. Gave me a look to unsettle me, but she could tell I had nothing to do with it. She saw Ish sitting casually outside, but noticed something odd about his body movement. He was laughing.
"You! " she said, "You flipped the floor mat." He could no longer hold it in and began to laugh loudly. She went back to Dad and told him it was Ish. He came inside and confessed. After that Dad laughed.
MY BIG BROTHER STEVE:
The cast/players in this joke: Steve, Dad and Mom. Again I am the observer of all of the events or you might think I am an accomplice since I am privy to the jokes. What does it matter? The boys were the jokers! This story like the latter takes place in Yuma, and Steve is home from Phoenix visiting on the weekend. Mom had just finished using her old large red Kirby vacuum. (See: www.137.com/kirby/)
She left the living room for a moment. It was standing upright next to Steve when she got back into the room. He, like Ish, tried the joke on Mom first, but, like Ish, he FAILED.
Here's the joke:
He put his foot onto the Kirby's lever (can't remember what lever), and moved it. As it moved the vacuum let out a large cracking sound. While he was pushing the lever, he pretended to crack his neck by moving his head with his two hands.
Mom wasn't falling for it. I laughed at his joke and was disappointed with him about not tricking her. He said, "I know. I'll get Dad." He asked Mom to get him into the room, but she would not be a part of it. Yet, she did not leave the room. She wanted to see how Dad reacted to the practical joke. She may deny it now, but I know her better. So, I was asked to get Dad. I told him Steve wanted to talk to him.
Dad came into the living room. Steve started talking to him, but stopped and complained about his neck. "I think I need to crack it," he said. With foot on the Kirby, he began to move his head to the left and right as the machine emitted it's loud noise. Dad flipped!
"No, no, Hijo! You are going to hurt yourself!!!" He tried to stop him, but Steve said he needed to do it again. Dad shook his head, either in disbelief he was doing it again or worry he would hurt himself. He couldn't understand why we (Mom and I) were laughing. Steve was not laughing, he was sporting his poker face. He told us it was not funny, and we responded by laughing even more. Finally, Steve let him in on the joke. Dad just shook his head, and laughed.
MY BIG BROTHER SERGIO:
Cast: Sergio, Mom, Suzie, Tonie, Dad and me.
Place: Yuma house after a New Year's Eve Apostolic Church Service
When we were little the church in Yuma had a tradition to hold New Year's Eve Services. We would stay in church to ring in the new year. Once church let out we'd walk over to the Comidor/Kitchen to eat menudo/posole (spelling is wrong-I know!), tamales, or whatever was made by the Dorcas (Ladies Auxiliary) of the church. We would get home around 1:00ish in the morning, but no later than 2 A.M.
Since Dad would stay and do minister stuff or talk to friends at church, we drove home in Mom's car. As we were walking out of the car Sergio met us. He had stayed home because he did not want to go to church that night. (Sorry, but no hint about the joke will be given since I in on the joke before and now the joke was being played on me too.)
We drove up to the house, and it was dark. We thought Sergio was in bed or in the back room watching television. As we walked through the metal gate, he came running out the front door yelling and shooting his gun into the air (Shannon's Law was not enacted at that time). All of us, his sisters, jumped and screamed in fear, but mother did not. He was disappointed.
He knew (like we all knew) Dad would be coming home soon. We all waited to hear his truck coming down the street, and by "we" I mean Mom too. She may deny it now, but she was watching. She was telling him not to do it, but she still watched for Dad. We also told him not do it, but like Mom we were laughing and hoping he would get Dad. Oh, and Mom was laughing too. Sergio was sitting on the porch in the darkness. When Dad walked towards the fence Sergio hollered and shot the gun into the air. Dad jumped so high he jumped right over the metal fence. Dad got upset at first (who wouldn't), but later he was laughing about it.
MY BIG BROTHER ISH:
This story takes place in Yuma. The players are Dad, Mom and Ish. I was the observer. Ish had come down to visit from Phoenix. He was staying for the weekend. This was long before he was married or a father of his own. My mother, as you may already know, was ALWAYS on top of her housework. Everything was in it's place and everything had a place of it's own. If there was a race for home cleanliness, Mom would most definitely be at the front of it. Never was there a speck of something out of place or mess or anything to that nature. Nothing escaped her fastidious eye. To say she was diligent in her housekeeping was to say the sun would rise again tomorrow. Are you getting the picture? Oh, in today's terms, you could say she was a bit OCD.
Enter into the scene one joker, named Ish. He tried his joke on Mom, but it FAILED. They could NEVER get Mom. Here's a brief description of the joke: In our hallway was a long plastic runner. On one side it was smooth, and the other side had little triangular pokes that would embed themselves into the carpet. They were meant to keep the carpet from moving. (See: www.shoplet.com and search floor vinyl runner for a visual)
What did he do? He flipped it over hoping to catch some poor soul walking without shoes.
Mom caught it and said to herself, "Who did this?" Then she fixed it, of course. He came back into the house (for he ran outside to avoid suspicion) to flip it over again, and ran outside again. Out came Dad and walked right into the trap. Up he flew into the air, and came crashing to the ground with a thud and a moan. Once on his side, he began to rub his injured feet, and laid into my poor Mom. He told her she needed to pay more attention to what she was doing around the house because it never crossed his mind Ish would have done this to him.
Ish was outside laughing while seated on a chair/his alibi. His body shaking with the laughter he was trying to suppress inside. The scolding continued. Mom defended herself by saying she had found it turned and fixed it. I was just watching it all. Yes, I was laughing. It was funny. Mom put on her "detective eye" and began to investigate the scene. She came in the living room and saw me sitting there with a craft. Gave me a look to unsettle me, but she could tell I had nothing to do with it. She saw Ish sitting casually outside, but noticed something odd about his body movement. He was laughing.
"You! " she said, "You flipped the floor mat." He could no longer hold it in and began to laugh loudly. She went back to Dad and told him it was Ish. He came inside and confessed. After that Dad laughed.
MY BIG BROTHER STEVE:
The cast/players in this joke: Steve, Dad and Mom. Again I am the observer of all of the events or you might think I am an accomplice since I am privy to the jokes. What does it matter? The boys were the jokers! This story like the latter takes place in Yuma, and Steve is home from Phoenix visiting on the weekend. Mom had just finished using her old large red Kirby vacuum. (See: www.137.com/kirby/)
She left the living room for a moment. It was standing upright next to Steve when she got back into the room. He, like Ish, tried the joke on Mom first, but, like Ish, he FAILED.
Here's the joke:
He put his foot onto the Kirby's lever (can't remember what lever), and moved it. As it moved the vacuum let out a large cracking sound. While he was pushing the lever, he pretended to crack his neck by moving his head with his two hands.
Mom wasn't falling for it. I laughed at his joke and was disappointed with him about not tricking her. He said, "I know. I'll get Dad." He asked Mom to get him into the room, but she would not be a part of it. Yet, she did not leave the room. She wanted to see how Dad reacted to the practical joke. She may deny it now, but I know her better. So, I was asked to get Dad. I told him Steve wanted to talk to him.
Dad came into the living room. Steve started talking to him, but stopped and complained about his neck. "I think I need to crack it," he said. With foot on the Kirby, he began to move his head to the left and right as the machine emitted it's loud noise. Dad flipped!
"No, no, Hijo! You are going to hurt yourself!!!" He tried to stop him, but Steve said he needed to do it again. Dad shook his head, either in disbelief he was doing it again or worry he would hurt himself. He couldn't understand why we (Mom and I) were laughing. Steve was not laughing, he was sporting his poker face. He told us it was not funny, and we responded by laughing even more. Finally, Steve let him in on the joke. Dad just shook his head, and laughed.
MY BIG BROTHER SERGIO:
Cast: Sergio, Mom, Suzie, Tonie, Dad and me.
Place: Yuma house after a New Year's Eve Apostolic Church Service
When we were little the church in Yuma had a tradition to hold New Year's Eve Services. We would stay in church to ring in the new year. Once church let out we'd walk over to the Comidor/Kitchen to eat menudo/posole (spelling is wrong-I know!), tamales, or whatever was made by the Dorcas (Ladies Auxiliary) of the church. We would get home around 1:00ish in the morning, but no later than 2 A.M.
Since Dad would stay and do minister stuff or talk to friends at church, we drove home in Mom's car. As we were walking out of the car Sergio met us. He had stayed home because he did not want to go to church that night. (Sorry, but no hint about the joke will be given since I in on the joke before and now the joke was being played on me too.)
We drove up to the house, and it was dark. We thought Sergio was in bed or in the back room watching television. As we walked through the metal gate, he came running out the front door yelling and shooting his gun into the air (Shannon's Law was not enacted at that time). All of us, his sisters, jumped and screamed in fear, but mother did not. He was disappointed.
He knew (like we all knew) Dad would be coming home soon. We all waited to hear his truck coming down the street, and by "we" I mean Mom too. She may deny it now, but she was watching. She was telling him not to do it, but she still watched for Dad. We also told him not do it, but like Mom we were laughing and hoping he would get Dad. Oh, and Mom was laughing too. Sergio was sitting on the porch in the darkness. When Dad walked towards the fence Sergio hollered and shot the gun into the air. Dad jumped so high he jumped right over the metal fence. Dad got upset at first (who wouldn't), but later he was laughing about it.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
The Dog Who Came Inside-a Dad Story by Mia
In our Glendale home, we had a glass door on the patio, and the bedroom was converted into a mini family room. We had a pet living in the back yard. Mom kept the door super clean to let the light in for her plants (plus, let's face it. Mom was/is a neat, clean freak).
One day Mom and I were sitting in the room watching television, and the dog was hanging out by the door begging to come inside with us. He, too, was snuck into the house. (There was a lot of sneaking in of pets, don't you think?) I had wondered if we really put it past Dad about our pets being outside all the time.
On this day, I found out we did not put it past Dad. He was aware of our disobedience. He came into the room, and saw the dog. Because he thought it was inside, he began to scold us, and shoo the dog towards the door. He thought it was opened, and wanted to send him packing! He smacked his head against the door, and was lucky not to break it. The thud was very loud, and left a VERY red mark on his head.
In between bursts of laughter, I asked him if he was OK (it was really funny!). I did not want him to be hurt. Mom wanted to laugh too, but she was really worried he was hurt. He rushed out of the room quickly. I thought it was either because he was really mad at what happened or embarrassed. Mom followed him to tell him he needed to be more careful, and to be sure he was OK. She found him staring at himself in the bathroom mirror giggling and rubbing his throbbing head. He clearly thought it was funny too.
Lesson: Before you assume something about someone, check it out, and make sure before you react to your assumptions. You might find yourself rubbbing your wounds.
One day Mom and I were sitting in the room watching television, and the dog was hanging out by the door begging to come inside with us. He, too, was snuck into the house. (There was a lot of sneaking in of pets, don't you think?) I had wondered if we really put it past Dad about our pets being outside all the time.
On this day, I found out we did not put it past Dad. He was aware of our disobedience. He came into the room, and saw the dog. Because he thought it was inside, he began to scold us, and shoo the dog towards the door. He thought it was opened, and wanted to send him packing! He smacked his head against the door, and was lucky not to break it. The thud was very loud, and left a VERY red mark on his head.
In between bursts of laughter, I asked him if he was OK (it was really funny!). I did not want him to be hurt. Mom wanted to laugh too, but she was really worried he was hurt. He rushed out of the room quickly. I thought it was either because he was really mad at what happened or embarrassed. Mom followed him to tell him he needed to be more careful, and to be sure he was OK. She found him staring at himself in the bathroom mirror giggling and rubbing his throbbing head. He clearly thought it was funny too.
Lesson: Before you assume something about someone, check it out, and make sure before you react to your assumptions. You might find yourself rubbbing your wounds.
The Escape Artist--a story by Mia
When we first moved up from Yuma we all lived in the Glendale house together. I think the only ones missing were the married ones: Rodrigo and Ish.
Abel had a huge 50 gallon fish tank (I think it was that big) full of all types of fishes and tiny fresh water crabs. It was a lot of fun to look at, but it was not fun to clean at all. It would get really slimy. Another problem, besides cleaning, was keeping the crabs from escaping.
One day, everyone was out, but Dad, Mom and me. Mom came into the living room without her glasses and saw something scurry across the carpet. She yelled (in Spanish), "Scorpion! A scorpion!" I had seen what it was because I had good vision back in those days. While Mom was screaming those same words over and over again. I was yelling it was not a scorpion, but a crab.
Then Dad came running into the room yelling, "Where? Where? Where is it?" He was not wearing his glasses either, but had taken off his shoe to use as a weapon against the critter. So, all three of us were yelling at once. Mom and Dad were only aware of each other, and not paying me any mind. Actually, Dad was only focused on where Mom was pointing.
As soon as he got sight of the creature, he began to bludgeon it to death. He picked it up after it stopped moving or he was tired smashing it into the carpet, and said, "Oh, it was a crab."
I was mad that they did not listen to me, and upset about the crab. I said, "I told you, but you did not listen to me! Why did you not listen to me? Now look what you've done. You killed it!"
I must have looked really upset because he said, "It will be OK. You'll see. Watch. I am going to put it back in the water and you'll see he will start moving around and be OK." (This is too funny!)
I told him it was dead, and not coming back to life. I was upset, but then I saw the crab, and could not help laughing. The so-called "OK crab" looked terrible. One eye was smashed so much that it did not even have an eye. The other eye was hanging down barely attached to his head. One claw was twisted in the opposite directions, and the other looked like it was going to fall off soon because it was "hanging by a thread". It was a ridiculous notion that he was "OK" and would be walking around in no time. I told Mom what Dad had said, and his insistence on the crab being "alright". She said to wait, and then we will take him out. I did not wait, but Dad kept going with his story about it being "OK".
After about 30 minutes, I convinced him that it was dead, and needed to be taken out of the tank. So, he took it out, and now I laugh every time I think of the poor "scorpion" who dared to tangle with the duo of Mom and Dad.
I guess the lesson you could learn here is to verify something people tell you before you react. If not, you'll end up with a dead crab.
Abel had a huge 50 gallon fish tank (I think it was that big) full of all types of fishes and tiny fresh water crabs. It was a lot of fun to look at, but it was not fun to clean at all. It would get really slimy. Another problem, besides cleaning, was keeping the crabs from escaping.
One day, everyone was out, but Dad, Mom and me. Mom came into the living room without her glasses and saw something scurry across the carpet. She yelled (in Spanish), "Scorpion! A scorpion!" I had seen what it was because I had good vision back in those days. While Mom was screaming those same words over and over again. I was yelling it was not a scorpion, but a crab.
Then Dad came running into the room yelling, "Where? Where? Where is it?" He was not wearing his glasses either, but had taken off his shoe to use as a weapon against the critter. So, all three of us were yelling at once. Mom and Dad were only aware of each other, and not paying me any mind. Actually, Dad was only focused on where Mom was pointing.
As soon as he got sight of the creature, he began to bludgeon it to death. He picked it up after it stopped moving or he was tired smashing it into the carpet, and said, "Oh, it was a crab."
I was mad that they did not listen to me, and upset about the crab. I said, "I told you, but you did not listen to me! Why did you not listen to me? Now look what you've done. You killed it!"
I must have looked really upset because he said, "It will be OK. You'll see. Watch. I am going to put it back in the water and you'll see he will start moving around and be OK." (This is too funny!)
I told him it was dead, and not coming back to life. I was upset, but then I saw the crab, and could not help laughing. The so-called "OK crab" looked terrible. One eye was smashed so much that it did not even have an eye. The other eye was hanging down barely attached to his head. One claw was twisted in the opposite directions, and the other looked like it was going to fall off soon because it was "hanging by a thread". It was a ridiculous notion that he was "OK" and would be walking around in no time. I told Mom what Dad had said, and his insistence on the crab being "alright". She said to wait, and then we will take him out. I did not wait, but Dad kept going with his story about it being "OK".
After about 30 minutes, I convinced him that it was dead, and needed to be taken out of the tank. So, he took it out, and now I laugh every time I think of the poor "scorpion" who dared to tangle with the duo of Mom and Dad.
I guess the lesson you could learn here is to verify something people tell you before you react. If not, you'll end up with a dead crab.
My Two Tabby Kittens-a story by Mia
I once had two tabby kittens, but I had them years apart. Because of the first white and orange tabby cat, my Dad said I could never have a cat again.
Here is the story of the first tabby kitten, Moriah. This story takes place in our Glendale home. Everyone had moved out, but Sergio and I. I had finally convinced my Dad to let me have a kitten. She was such a sweet little kitten. She was the first kitten I had that actually new her name and recognized my voice. I loved her and had her live with me in my room-litter box and all. She stayed in there for some time until Dad smelled the litter box. Then she was banished to the outdoors. I would sneak her inside to sleep with me at night.
One night I called out to her in the darkness, I could hear her, but not see her. I found that she was stuck in the backyard neighbor's tree. I called for her to come down. Down she came, but I did not know why she was up there. I soon found out why. They had a pit bull. She came down to my calling her and found her death in the jaws of the pit bull. I was distraught, and inconsolable. This was my first view of how fragile life can be. In my distress, I attempted to jump the brick wall to save her. Luckily, my dad came out and stopped me. I could not stop crying. I blamed myself for her death, and the realization of life's fragility was shocking to me. Dad said I would never own a cat again. He did not want to see me cry over another animal.
I eventually got another kitten. It was a tiny little thing. This little gray tabby was evicted immediately upon arrival. I pleaded his case, but it was useless. Because I was sure I was going to change my dad's mind, I took the litter box outside to keep the kitty trained.
I did not name the kitty because I could not decide what to name him.
A week after I got him, I went to California to visit Abel, Delia, and Josiah. My Mom said I would have to figure out what to do with the cat because she wasn't going to care for it. She was scared of it. I asked Dad and he said he would. I took him outside and showed him where I put the water dish, food and litter scooper. I let him know he would not have to worry about the litter box. I would take care of it upon my return.
When I got back from L.A. I had a big surprise. Rodrigo was living in the back apartment. He told me, "I fed your cat some of my leftovers. He was really hungry. You should have had someone take care of it while you were gone." I told him I did, and it was Dad. I was mad, and thought Dad did it on purpose to get rid of my cat. I could not find it anywhere. It had run away. I asked my dad about it, and he said he put food in it's bowl, but it did not like it.
I went outside to investigate. Dad was giving it food to eat, but it was not something the cat would like, nor eat. He was feeding my kitten cat litter! What cat eats litter!! Poor kitten ran away to find food. I was not angry anymore because I was too busy laughing at Dad feeding the my kitten rocks.
Here is the story of the first tabby kitten, Moriah. This story takes place in our Glendale home. Everyone had moved out, but Sergio and I. I had finally convinced my Dad to let me have a kitten. She was such a sweet little kitten. She was the first kitten I had that actually new her name and recognized my voice. I loved her and had her live with me in my room-litter box and all. She stayed in there for some time until Dad smelled the litter box. Then she was banished to the outdoors. I would sneak her inside to sleep with me at night.
One night I called out to her in the darkness, I could hear her, but not see her. I found that she was stuck in the backyard neighbor's tree. I called for her to come down. Down she came, but I did not know why she was up there. I soon found out why. They had a pit bull. She came down to my calling her and found her death in the jaws of the pit bull. I was distraught, and inconsolable. This was my first view of how fragile life can be. In my distress, I attempted to jump the brick wall to save her. Luckily, my dad came out and stopped me. I could not stop crying. I blamed myself for her death, and the realization of life's fragility was shocking to me. Dad said I would never own a cat again. He did not want to see me cry over another animal.
I eventually got another kitten. It was a tiny little thing. This little gray tabby was evicted immediately upon arrival. I pleaded his case, but it was useless. Because I was sure I was going to change my dad's mind, I took the litter box outside to keep the kitty trained.
I did not name the kitty because I could not decide what to name him.
A week after I got him, I went to California to visit Abel, Delia, and Josiah. My Mom said I would have to figure out what to do with the cat because she wasn't going to care for it. She was scared of it. I asked Dad and he said he would. I took him outside and showed him where I put the water dish, food and litter scooper. I let him know he would not have to worry about the litter box. I would take care of it upon my return.
When I got back from L.A. I had a big surprise. Rodrigo was living in the back apartment. He told me, "I fed your cat some of my leftovers. He was really hungry. You should have had someone take care of it while you were gone." I told him I did, and it was Dad. I was mad, and thought Dad did it on purpose to get rid of my cat. I could not find it anywhere. It had run away. I asked my dad about it, and he said he put food in it's bowl, but it did not like it.
I went outside to investigate. Dad was giving it food to eat, but it was not something the cat would like, nor eat. He was feeding my kitten cat litter! What cat eats litter!! Poor kitten ran away to find food. I was not angry anymore because I was too busy laughing at Dad feeding the my kitten rocks.
Miracle--a story by Mia
Although Dad did not view animals as people do now (buying them gifts, dressing them, and giving them their own room), I do have a wonderful memory of him and a bird. This happened when I was a little girl living in Yuma. It happened one hot summer Sunday afternoon. It was during the break between the morning Sunday School, and evening service.
Ireri Briones had come to spend the afternoon with me. We went outside to play and found a little sparrow dying of dehydration or heat exposure. I decided we would be heroes and save this little bird from an untimely death. We took it inside and gave it water, a cool bath to bring it's core down, but it was not working.
It would not eat. I was crying because I could not save the bird. I asked Dad to please give the bird a blessing. He, at first, seemed annoyed at my request, and said that blessings were only for people and not animals. But I guess after he saw my disappointment, he gave in and prayed for the bird that I had named Miracle. I believed I was going to save him/her. Soon after Dad prayed for it. Miracle died, but the true Miracle was the love of a father for his child. Regardless of his feelings of treating animals like people, he prayed for the bird his little girl loved.
Ireri Briones had come to spend the afternoon with me. We went outside to play and found a little sparrow dying of dehydration or heat exposure. I decided we would be heroes and save this little bird from an untimely death. We took it inside and gave it water, a cool bath to bring it's core down, but it was not working.
It would not eat. I was crying because I could not save the bird. I asked Dad to please give the bird a blessing. He, at first, seemed annoyed at my request, and said that blessings were only for people and not animals. But I guess after he saw my disappointment, he gave in and prayed for the bird that I had named Miracle. I believed I was going to save him/her. Soon after Dad prayed for it. Miracle died, but the true Miracle was the love of a father for his child. Regardless of his feelings of treating animals like people, he prayed for the bird his little girl loved.
Ugh!!!
So, I thought this was going to be easy. WRONG!!!!!
All of the work I have done so far is in Word 2000, and I can't just copy and paste it into this blog. I can copy it, but when I go to this blog to paste it, the word 'paste' is not bolded. You know what that means, right? I can't do it. Ugh!!! Frustrating!!!!!
I want to enter Mom's information now, but I still have all of Dad's stuff to enter. I don't have a lot left. I am just retyping it into here. I hope I am not missing stuff from his stories. This is where my work in data processing helps me. Why am I complaining? Well, the history from his funeral program is in Spanish. If I retype it I will lose all of the accent marks. Those take a long time to do. I am racking my brain to figure out how to put this in here.
Also, how do I add the program. I think I am going to have to scan it, and put it in here like a picture. I guess there are some advantages to having this blog in here, and some disadvantages. I will just make do because this history needs to be done before anyone else dies, and the stories are forgotten.
The sad thing is that I thought of doing this when Dad was already loosing his hearing, and I was not there on his last anniversary to document his life story. Why???? Why did none of you think to write it????? (Sorry, I hope I don't make you feel bad, but maybe bad enough to write it in here. Hee, hee.) I hope those of you who were there remember some of what he said and add it in here. Now does it make sense to you why I was frustrated that I was not there? I had been working on this for a while.
I knew he was dying. He knew it. I only hope you remember all he said, and please, please, please write it in here. OH, and please don't be made at me for making this blog. I am really worried about that too. I hope you all think this is a good idea too.
I won't know until this Christmas if you are going to chew me out or be happy I did this for us. My stomach is in knots just thinking about it. How are you going to receive this gift??? How, how, how.....happy or angry????? I wish I could get my hands on a crystal ball right about now.
Would it stop me from making this book if you were mad? No, I still NEED to do this, I HAVE to do this for us. This work is consuming me, and I hope you unstand why I chose the blog.
Here's the explanation:
I was going to make the book, and have it all printed out for you, but Wow! that is a lot of money for me to gift this to 8 people. Especially when you think of the printing costs of photos. Then I thought I would put it on a disk, but disks scratch, and cost money too. Then the blog idea came to me. Now that is great! No cost and it's out there for all of us to view and copy at our leisure. Plus, you can add your stories to this too.
I want ALL of our stories in here. Any contribution you want to put in here is great. Oh, and I want the in-laws to participate too. Delia, Chuck, and Glenn are a part of this family. So, your life stories are WANTED too. Also, you had dealings with the family and memories with us that we may not remember.
I want the grandchildren to participate too. Any Nana/Tata/Abuelito/Abuelita, Your parents, Aunts, Uncles, etc... stories are very much WANTED. So, please feel free to contribute to this blog. I hope you "kids" (using this loosely as some of you are adults now) like this idea, and add any story you want to add.
OK, this post is too long. So, I am going to stop now. I hope you get my passion for this project, and understand why I NEED, NEED, NEED to do this for us. If not, here is a Bible scripture that I hope will help you understand.
Malachi 4: 5, 6
"Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord: And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse."
All of the work I have done so far is in Word 2000, and I can't just copy and paste it into this blog. I can copy it, but when I go to this blog to paste it, the word 'paste' is not bolded. You know what that means, right? I can't do it. Ugh!!! Frustrating!!!!!
I want to enter Mom's information now, but I still have all of Dad's stuff to enter. I don't have a lot left. I am just retyping it into here. I hope I am not missing stuff from his stories. This is where my work in data processing helps me. Why am I complaining? Well, the history from his funeral program is in Spanish. If I retype it I will lose all of the accent marks. Those take a long time to do. I am racking my brain to figure out how to put this in here.
Also, how do I add the program. I think I am going to have to scan it, and put it in here like a picture. I guess there are some advantages to having this blog in here, and some disadvantages. I will just make do because this history needs to be done before anyone else dies, and the stories are forgotten.
The sad thing is that I thought of doing this when Dad was already loosing his hearing, and I was not there on his last anniversary to document his life story. Why???? Why did none of you think to write it????? (Sorry, I hope I don't make you feel bad, but maybe bad enough to write it in here. Hee, hee.) I hope those of you who were there remember some of what he said and add it in here. Now does it make sense to you why I was frustrated that I was not there? I had been working on this for a while.
I knew he was dying. He knew it. I only hope you remember all he said, and please, please, please write it in here. OH, and please don't be made at me for making this blog. I am really worried about that too. I hope you all think this is a good idea too.
I won't know until this Christmas if you are going to chew me out or be happy I did this for us. My stomach is in knots just thinking about it. How are you going to receive this gift??? How, how, how.....happy or angry????? I wish I could get my hands on a crystal ball right about now.
Would it stop me from making this book if you were mad? No, I still NEED to do this, I HAVE to do this for us. This work is consuming me, and I hope you unstand why I chose the blog.
Here's the explanation:
I was going to make the book, and have it all printed out for you, but Wow! that is a lot of money for me to gift this to 8 people. Especially when you think of the printing costs of photos. Then I thought I would put it on a disk, but disks scratch, and cost money too. Then the blog idea came to me. Now that is great! No cost and it's out there for all of us to view and copy at our leisure. Plus, you can add your stories to this too.
I want ALL of our stories in here. Any contribution you want to put in here is great. Oh, and I want the in-laws to participate too. Delia, Chuck, and Glenn are a part of this family. So, your life stories are WANTED too. Also, you had dealings with the family and memories with us that we may not remember.
I want the grandchildren to participate too. Any Nana/Tata/Abuelito/Abuelita, Your parents, Aunts, Uncles, etc... stories are very much WANTED. So, please feel free to contribute to this blog. I hope you "kids" (using this loosely as some of you are adults now) like this idea, and add any story you want to add.
OK, this post is too long. So, I am going to stop now. I hope you get my passion for this project, and understand why I NEED, NEED, NEED to do this for us. If not, here is a Bible scripture that I hope will help you understand.
Malachi 4: 5, 6
"Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord: And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse."
The Yuma Cat--a story by Mia
It is not an unknown fact that Dad did not care much for animals in the house when we were growing up. I remember how the cats we had over the years would run in fear of my Dad and his wrath of them being inside the house.
We had a cat named TeaDee Ling (not sure if this is the correct spelling). I believe it was Rodrigo's cat. This fat black and white cat lived outdoors. He was much more than a regular tom/alley cat because he had more than nine lives. One day we (the girls) snuck him in, and we were sitting on the floor while Mom was crocheting something. The cat was relaxed sleeping on the floor. Once in a while his tail would swish back and forth.
Mom was just starting to warn us about the time, and Dad's soon arrival. When the cat suddenly jump up and went crazy. He was running from door-to-door, window-to-window trying to find a way to escape. We were laughing at our crazy cat and trying to figure out what was the matter with him. Then we realized why he was acting insane when we saw Dad's work truck parked in front of the house. He, the cat, had heard the truck coming down the street before we had. Dad had put a fear in our pets.
Throughout our life in Yuma, we had pets here and there, and the rule was always the same---No pets in the house. We, of course, would sneak them in when Dad was out, and they would enjoy it. Despite all of our sneakiness, Dad somehow knew we what we were doing, and he let the animals know they were not welcomed in his house.
I guess the lesson from this story is: You can try to be sneaky behind your parent's back, but they will always find out what you are doing. It's better to just choose the right, and be obedient to what they ask. Then you avoid heartache later.
We had a cat named TeaDee Ling (not sure if this is the correct spelling). I believe it was Rodrigo's cat. This fat black and white cat lived outdoors. He was much more than a regular tom/alley cat because he had more than nine lives. One day we (the girls) snuck him in, and we were sitting on the floor while Mom was crocheting something. The cat was relaxed sleeping on the floor. Once in a while his tail would swish back and forth.
Mom was just starting to warn us about the time, and Dad's soon arrival. When the cat suddenly jump up and went crazy. He was running from door-to-door, window-to-window trying to find a way to escape. We were laughing at our crazy cat and trying to figure out what was the matter with him. Then we realized why he was acting insane when we saw Dad's work truck parked in front of the house. He, the cat, had heard the truck coming down the street before we had. Dad had put a fear in our pets.
Throughout our life in Yuma, we had pets here and there, and the rule was always the same---No pets in the house. We, of course, would sneak them in when Dad was out, and they would enjoy it. Despite all of our sneakiness, Dad somehow knew we what we were doing, and he let the animals know they were not welcomed in his house.
I guess the lesson from this story is: You can try to be sneaky behind your parent's back, but they will always find out what you are doing. It's better to just choose the right, and be obedient to what they ask. Then you avoid heartache later.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Work/Immigration Stories as told by Francisco to Mia
1944:
Francisco was 18 years old working in Blythe, California. He worked as a rail man. His job responsibilities included changing the trains routes by moving the train tracks. This job he had by working under the Bracero program. See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bracero_Program
1951 and La Migra (The Border Patrol):
In 1951, he was deported back to Mexico. He was working in Wilson, Arkansas. He was making the insane amount of $0.33 (yes, that is 33 cents) an hour. During this time, a Mexican was contracted out to work for a certain company. He did not have the right to go from job to job as he was needed. If he was found to do this he would be deported back to Mexico. Because he received the bait and switch from the Arkansas company, that is, he was told he would be making x amount and when he got to the job site it was less than he had expected, he began to look for new employment.
He got a job in a Chicago bottle-packing plant (maybe like Laverne and Shirley?) making $3.35 an hour. The Migra/Border Patrol got him, and companions, while he was in route to the job. He was currently in Memphis, Tennessee. He spent three weeks in a Tennessee jail.
While he was in jail, La Migra told him he could not leave until he signed a document stating he would never return to The United States of America again. He told them he would never sign this document. He encouraged the other men with him not to sign either, but they were worried La Migra would keep them in jail forever. Eventually, all signed, but Frankie, and after 3 weeks he was released. He was deported. (Mom told me later that when he went to Immigration to get his citizenship/naturalized they asked him about this deportation. He was shocked they had this information on the computer. He told the INS worker he did not get deported, but she asked him about the Chicago situation, and he let her know all about it.)
Upon his return to Mexico, he was living in Mexico City. He lived there for six years. It was hard for him to find work in Mexico. He had two business owing ventures. The first was a grocery store, and the other was to be a Paletero (walking ice-cream/Popsicle vendor). He made history in his family by being the first Paletero in his family.
1959:
This was the year Francisco received his green card or National Alien Registration Card.
1996:
This is the year Francisco received his citizenship to the United States of America. Francisco, his wife, Lucia, and daughter, Lucy, all received their citizenship on the same day. The location they were sworn in was Central High School in Phoenix, Arizona.
COLORADO:
He worked on a farm. He picked potatoes and beets on this farm. There were six men who worked with him that were from his hometown. This small band of men worked very hard. They made more money than any other group working on the farm. The other groups consisted of nine men vs. their seven. His boss said that he had never had such good workers as this group of seven men. On this farm, most of the workers were Native American Indians. Amongst the group was a 6' woman who was always rated the number one worker on the farm. No one could out perform her until a little man from Mexico challenged her named Francisco. He was determined to beat her score, and within three days he did. She never retained her title of "best worker" again.
STERGES FARM IN YUMA, ARIZONA:
Francisco worked for this farm longer than any other job he had, and eventually retired from while working for this farm. After his retirement he moved his wife and daughter, Lucy, to Phoenix to be near his other children.
He said he was treated very well on this farm. He normally worked sixty hours per week. If there was work he received pay for those hours and if there was no work, Mr. Sterges, still paid him. Here he was known as Frankie. Because he was treated so well here, and he never had to worry about a steady stream of income regardless of the workload, he did not try to start any businesses in the US. He enjoyed his job on the farm as a mechanic. He received an opportunity to study and receive a certification/diploma for Mechanics from the Mechanics National School of Los Angeles via correspondence. He said when his tests were returned the instructors would write "EXCELLENT FRANCISCO". He was doing very well in his education. Despite this face, he did not receive his diploma because he was given some very bad advice. A new co-worker of his had been a mechanic since the age of eight, and had restored a car at eight, told him to save his money and stop going to school. He said he could show him all that he knew about mechanics. (Again we see how not seeking a higher education can halt a person in their progression. I wonder how much better he would have been had he not listened to this guy about school, and still learned all he could from him and school.)
TRANSMISSION ON A BIG CATERPILLAR:
(When Dad told me this story I forgot to write it down; so, I now retell it from my memory, which I do not trust very well. I apologize if there is a gap in this story. Please feel free to till it in, if you know this one. Thanks!)
He was working at Sterges Farm, and a caterpillar broke down. There was a piece on it that was malfunctioning and he had to take it to the part store. A man who worked there was an expert on parts. He was educated and he knew a lot about farming equipment. He received the part and could not figure out the problem. The store and farm were on a deadline. Frankie went back and asked to see the part again after some time had passed and no one could figure out the situation. Frankie figured out the problem. Then he said to the store that they should not charge the farm, but Mr. Sterges said it was OK. He could not believe he figured it out. (Dad recounted this even to me with lots of pride in himself. It was one of his great accomplishments on the job. I guess anyone would be proud to out think an expert. Dad was a hard worker who believed in the value of working even when it was hard. "Nothing is worth having if it's to easy," he would tell me.)
Francisco was 18 years old working in Blythe, California. He worked as a rail man. His job responsibilities included changing the trains routes by moving the train tracks. This job he had by working under the Bracero program. See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bracero_Program
1951 and La Migra (The Border Patrol):
In 1951, he was deported back to Mexico. He was working in Wilson, Arkansas. He was making the insane amount of $0.33 (yes, that is 33 cents) an hour. During this time, a Mexican was contracted out to work for a certain company. He did not have the right to go from job to job as he was needed. If he was found to do this he would be deported back to Mexico. Because he received the bait and switch from the Arkansas company, that is, he was told he would be making x amount and when he got to the job site it was less than he had expected, he began to look for new employment.
He got a job in a Chicago bottle-packing plant (maybe like Laverne and Shirley?) making $3.35 an hour. The Migra/Border Patrol got him, and companions, while he was in route to the job. He was currently in Memphis, Tennessee. He spent three weeks in a Tennessee jail.
While he was in jail, La Migra told him he could not leave until he signed a document stating he would never return to The United States of America again. He told them he would never sign this document. He encouraged the other men with him not to sign either, but they were worried La Migra would keep them in jail forever. Eventually, all signed, but Frankie, and after 3 weeks he was released. He was deported. (Mom told me later that when he went to Immigration to get his citizenship/naturalized they asked him about this deportation. He was shocked they had this information on the computer. He told the INS worker he did not get deported, but she asked him about the Chicago situation, and he let her know all about it.)
Upon his return to Mexico, he was living in Mexico City. He lived there for six years. It was hard for him to find work in Mexico. He had two business owing ventures. The first was a grocery store, and the other was to be a Paletero (walking ice-cream/Popsicle vendor). He made history in his family by being the first Paletero in his family.
1959:
This was the year Francisco received his green card or National Alien Registration Card.
1996:
This is the year Francisco received his citizenship to the United States of America. Francisco, his wife, Lucia, and daughter, Lucy, all received their citizenship on the same day. The location they were sworn in was Central High School in Phoenix, Arizona.
COLORADO:
He worked on a farm. He picked potatoes and beets on this farm. There were six men who worked with him that were from his hometown. This small band of men worked very hard. They made more money than any other group working on the farm. The other groups consisted of nine men vs. their seven. His boss said that he had never had such good workers as this group of seven men. On this farm, most of the workers were Native American Indians. Amongst the group was a 6' woman who was always rated the number one worker on the farm. No one could out perform her until a little man from Mexico challenged her named Francisco. He was determined to beat her score, and within three days he did. She never retained her title of "best worker" again.
STERGES FARM IN YUMA, ARIZONA:
Francisco worked for this farm longer than any other job he had, and eventually retired from while working for this farm. After his retirement he moved his wife and daughter, Lucy, to Phoenix to be near his other children.
He said he was treated very well on this farm. He normally worked sixty hours per week. If there was work he received pay for those hours and if there was no work, Mr. Sterges, still paid him. Here he was known as Frankie. Because he was treated so well here, and he never had to worry about a steady stream of income regardless of the workload, he did not try to start any businesses in the US. He enjoyed his job on the farm as a mechanic. He received an opportunity to study and receive a certification/diploma for Mechanics from the Mechanics National School of Los Angeles via correspondence. He said when his tests were returned the instructors would write "EXCELLENT FRANCISCO". He was doing very well in his education. Despite this face, he did not receive his diploma because he was given some very bad advice. A new co-worker of his had been a mechanic since the age of eight, and had restored a car at eight, told him to save his money and stop going to school. He said he could show him all that he knew about mechanics. (Again we see how not seeking a higher education can halt a person in their progression. I wonder how much better he would have been had he not listened to this guy about school, and still learned all he could from him and school.)
TRANSMISSION ON A BIG CATERPILLAR:
(When Dad told me this story I forgot to write it down; so, I now retell it from my memory, which I do not trust very well. I apologize if there is a gap in this story. Please feel free to till it in, if you know this one. Thanks!)
He was working at Sterges Farm, and a caterpillar broke down. There was a piece on it that was malfunctioning and he had to take it to the part store. A man who worked there was an expert on parts. He was educated and he knew a lot about farming equipment. He received the part and could not figure out the problem. The store and farm were on a deadline. Frankie went back and asked to see the part again after some time had passed and no one could figure out the situation. Frankie figured out the problem. Then he said to the store that they should not charge the farm, but Mr. Sterges said it was OK. He could not believe he figured it out. (Dad recounted this even to me with lots of pride in himself. It was one of his great accomplishments on the job. I guess anyone would be proud to out think an expert. Dad was a hard worker who believed in the value of working even when it was hard. "Nothing is worth having if it's to easy," he would tell me.)
Some Childhood Stories of Francisco--as told by Lucia to Mia
THE LITTLE HEN AND THE MISSING CHAIR:
His mother, Antonia, had raised a little hen when he was a small boy. I imagine she cared for it and it no doubt supplied the family with eggs. One day it was dinnertime, and Francisco was called to come and eat. However, he did not find a chair to sit on. No one wants to sit on the floor least of all a stubborn child, and he kept asking for a chair. No chair could be found for him to use. So, a resourceful lad he found something to use in place of a chair. He said, "I found my chair. Now serve me some food," as he sat on the hen. Unfortunately, the little hen did not get to eat any dinner due to being squashed to death by a boy.
THE LONG NAP:
Francisco loved to sleep in longer than he should especially during his nap time. Oftentimes, this habit caused him some confusion. Once he woke up when it was dark out, and thought it was a new day. He would be mad and stubborn for his breakfast (when it was actually dinnertime). He would be upset that breakfast was not being served, and stubborn to eat only a breakfast meal. He would sit and not eat dinner because he was sure it was breakfast time. As a result of his persistence, they would serve him breakfast for dinner. Upon eating his "breakfast", he announced, "Now you can serve me my dinner."
HIS SISTER, AMALIA'S BOYFRIENDS:
When Amalia was old enough to have young men call on her, Francisco would be ready and waiting to give them his "special gift". The unsuspecting guys would come to their home and Francisco would say, "You are not coming to see her! Get out of here!!" Then he would produce his "gifts", and fling them into the air towards these young men. These gifts or rocks, as some people call them, would land on their intended targets.
Later, Amalia would confront the confused Francisco about his welcoming presents. Why was he confused? He thought he took care of these guys, and she would never find out about it. When she did find out, she had her own version of a "present" for Francisco, an onslaught of kicks in to the shins.
His mother, Antonia, had raised a little hen when he was a small boy. I imagine she cared for it and it no doubt supplied the family with eggs. One day it was dinnertime, and Francisco was called to come and eat. However, he did not find a chair to sit on. No one wants to sit on the floor least of all a stubborn child, and he kept asking for a chair. No chair could be found for him to use. So, a resourceful lad he found something to use in place of a chair. He said, "I found my chair. Now serve me some food," as he sat on the hen. Unfortunately, the little hen did not get to eat any dinner due to being squashed to death by a boy.
THE LONG NAP:
Francisco loved to sleep in longer than he should especially during his nap time. Oftentimes, this habit caused him some confusion. Once he woke up when it was dark out, and thought it was a new day. He would be mad and stubborn for his breakfast (when it was actually dinnertime). He would be upset that breakfast was not being served, and stubborn to eat only a breakfast meal. He would sit and not eat dinner because he was sure it was breakfast time. As a result of his persistence, they would serve him breakfast for dinner. Upon eating his "breakfast", he announced, "Now you can serve me my dinner."
HIS SISTER, AMALIA'S BOYFRIENDS:
When Amalia was old enough to have young men call on her, Francisco would be ready and waiting to give them his "special gift". The unsuspecting guys would come to their home and Francisco would say, "You are not coming to see her! Get out of here!!" Then he would produce his "gifts", and fling them into the air towards these young men. These gifts or rocks, as some people call them, would land on their intended targets.
Later, Amalia would confront the confused Francisco about his welcoming presents. Why was he confused? He thought he took care of these guys, and she would never find out about it. When she did find out, she had her own version of a "present" for Francisco, an onslaught of kicks in to the shins.
Francisco Villanueva Andrade
Born:
October 4, 1926
Died:
August 4, 2009
Place of Birth:
Ciudad/City: San Diego
Estado/State: Jalisco
Municipado/County: Quitupan
Nacion/Country: Mexico
Place of Death:
Hospice of the Valley, Surprise, Maricopy County, Arizona, United States of America
Parents:
Father-Faustino Villanueva
Mother-Antonia Andrade
Grandparents:
Paternal grandparents-
Juan (unknown last name) and Juana (unknown last name-maybe Villanueva)
Maternal grandparents:
(unknown first name) Andrade and Genoveva (unknown last name)
Married to:
Lucia Haro (possible last name spellings are De Haro) Flores or Lucia Villanueva de Haro on July 9, 1961
Children (in birth order):
Rodrigo Haro Villanueva-DOB: January 28, 1963
Ismael Haro Villanueva-DOB: June 23, 1964
Steve Haro Villanueva-DOB: January 18,1966
Abel Villanueva-DOB: January 5, 1967
Sergio Haro Villanueva-DOB: April 25, 1968
Suzanna Haro (Villanueva) Salas-DOB: April 22, 1969
Maria Antonia Villanueva/Zachia Maria-Antonia-DOB: May 21, 1970
Lucia Haro Villanueva/Mia-Bianca Lucia Lowry-DOB: April 14, 1974
Citizenship: Naturalized Citizen of The United States of America on March 1, 1996
Siblings:
Jose Villanueva-deceased
Juan Villanueva-deceased
Bernadino Villanueva-deceased
Amalia Villanueva-deceased
Grandchildren:
Elizabeth Jovanni Villanueva-DOB: June 4, 1989
Ismael Haro Villanueva II-DOB: December 9, 1989
Meghan Louise Villanueva-DOB: May 10, 1994
Josiah Edward Villanueva-DOB: July 2, 1995
Charles Zaqueriah Salas IV-DOB: December 4, 1996
Caleb Anthony Villanueva-DOB: August 19, 1998
Ana-Alicia Marie Salas-DOB: August 29, 2000
Jared Timothy Villanueva-DOB:
Vincent Jovan Lowry-DOB: December 24, 2005
Lianna Celeste Lowry-DOB: May 14, 2007
Scarlett Jade Lowry-DOB: October 1, 2009
Hobbies:
Planting trees, watching television, and reading the Bible. Favorite shows were: Westerns
Nickname:
He liked to be called "Frankie." Quote: "My name is Francisco, but call me Frankie."
October 4, 1926
Died:
August 4, 2009
Place of Birth:
Ciudad/City: San Diego
Estado/State: Jalisco
Municipado/County: Quitupan
Nacion/Country: Mexico
Place of Death:
Hospice of the Valley, Surprise, Maricopy County, Arizona, United States of America
Parents:
Father-Faustino Villanueva
Mother-Antonia Andrade
Grandparents:
Paternal grandparents-
Juan (unknown last name) and Juana (unknown last name-maybe Villanueva)
Maternal grandparents:
(unknown first name) Andrade and Genoveva (unknown last name)
Married to:
Lucia Haro (possible last name spellings are De Haro) Flores or Lucia Villanueva de Haro on July 9, 1961
Children (in birth order):
Rodrigo Haro Villanueva-DOB: January 28, 1963
Ismael Haro Villanueva-DOB: June 23, 1964
Steve Haro Villanueva-DOB: January 18,1966
Abel Villanueva-DOB: January 5, 1967
Sergio Haro Villanueva-DOB: April 25, 1968
Suzanna Haro (Villanueva) Salas-DOB: April 22, 1969
Maria Antonia Villanueva/Zachia Maria-Antonia-DOB: May 21, 1970
Lucia Haro Villanueva/Mia-Bianca Lucia Lowry-DOB: April 14, 1974
Citizenship: Naturalized Citizen of The United States of America on March 1, 1996
Siblings:
Jose Villanueva-deceased
Juan Villanueva-deceased
Bernadino Villanueva-deceased
Amalia Villanueva-deceased
Grandchildren:
Elizabeth Jovanni Villanueva-DOB: June 4, 1989
Ismael Haro Villanueva II-DOB: December 9, 1989
Meghan Louise Villanueva-DOB: May 10, 1994
Josiah Edward Villanueva-DOB: July 2, 1995
Charles Zaqueriah Salas IV-DOB: December 4, 1996
Caleb Anthony Villanueva-DOB: August 19, 1998
Ana-Alicia Marie Salas-DOB: August 29, 2000
Jared Timothy Villanueva-DOB:
Vincent Jovan Lowry-DOB: December 24, 2005
Lianna Celeste Lowry-DOB: May 14, 2007
Scarlett Jade Lowry-DOB: October 1, 2009
Hobbies:
Planting trees, watching television, and reading the Bible. Favorite shows were: Westerns
Nickname:
He liked to be called "Frankie." Quote: "My name is Francisco, but call me Frankie."
Excited!
So, this is not part of my family's story, but I am SUPER excited about this blog. I have been working on my family's history for....mmmm....about two years now. I have been putting it on my home computer, but NEVER had the idea of creating a blog come to me until recently.
The blog is the BEST idea ever. OK, here is the best part! I am going to work on this until I add all the stuff from my computer on here, and keep it as my little secret. That is, unless, you find it here on the Internet. Yikes!~ I had not thought of that one, oh well, if you do find this....please keep my secret. I want to give each of my seven siblings a hard copy of this blog for Christmas this year (2010), and my Mom is going to get one too. After Christmas, we can continue to add to the blog, and we can print off the additions at home.
I want anyone, and everyone who knew my parents to add to this blog. The more information (good and bad---just the facts) about my family I can put in here, the better for our future generations. I am ecstatic about this idea. This is the fulfillment of a life long dream for me. I ALWAYS wanted to know about my ancestors, and now maybe with this blog we can put it together for my parents posterity. Yes!!!! Isn't this exciting?
Oh, one more thing...I said the bad too because we learn from the past, and other people's mistakes. Adding the bad is not meant to embarrass anyone or shame anyone, it is meant to help each of us grow and become better people. Becoming a better person, should be a life goal for everyone (at least I think it should), and avoiding pitfalls that others have encountered along their journey in life is a good lesson for the children, and the children's children. Don't you think? I think it is important.
Now, how do I add our family tree???? I love this project! I am going to learn lots and lots. Again, I must ask....isn't this exciting?!?!?!?!?
The blog is the BEST idea ever. OK, here is the best part! I am going to work on this until I add all the stuff from my computer on here, and keep it as my little secret. That is, unless, you find it here on the Internet. Yikes!~ I had not thought of that one, oh well, if you do find this....please keep my secret. I want to give each of my seven siblings a hard copy of this blog for Christmas this year (2010), and my Mom is going to get one too. After Christmas, we can continue to add to the blog, and we can print off the additions at home.
I want anyone, and everyone who knew my parents to add to this blog. The more information (good and bad---just the facts) about my family I can put in here, the better for our future generations. I am ecstatic about this idea. This is the fulfillment of a life long dream for me. I ALWAYS wanted to know about my ancestors, and now maybe with this blog we can put it together for my parents posterity. Yes!!!! Isn't this exciting?
Oh, one more thing...I said the bad too because we learn from the past, and other people's mistakes. Adding the bad is not meant to embarrass anyone or shame anyone, it is meant to help each of us grow and become better people. Becoming a better person, should be a life goal for everyone (at least I think it should), and avoiding pitfalls that others have encountered along their journey in life is a good lesson for the children, and the children's children. Don't you think? I think it is important.
Now, how do I add our family tree???? I love this project! I am going to learn lots and lots. Again, I must ask....isn't this exciting?!?!?!?!?
Francisco and School as told by Lucia to Mia
TRUANCY/PEER PRESSURE:
Francisco and a group of his friends must not have liked school very much. On their way to school they would discuss better ways on how to spend the day. Then the group would skip school by jumping on the back of trucks heading for town. They would go around the town riding on these trucks; then finally end up in the fields where they spent their entire day. Doing what? Mom did not know because Dad never told her. Somehow (I'm guessing they did not own a watch) they kept track of time because they would be on a truck or bus heading home the hour school was out. (Not sure how old he was during this time.)
THE RICH LADY AND EDUCATION:
When Francisco was around 9 years old (school began at age 7 for children in those days, in Mexico), there was a wealthy woman who lived in the same town. She approached him one day, and asked him if he would like to attend a good school. If he was willing to go, she would be willing to pay for it. His parents agreed to the deal, and made preparations for him to go. When he was ready at last-an unexpected thing happened-his father died.
He was the man of the house now, and had responsibilities to his home. He could no longer attend school and support his mother at the same time. He put the needs of his mother ahead of his own.
In those days it was not uncommon for a child to be sold to another family to work as a slave in order to support the child's family. Children in those situations were often mistreated and abused by their owners. It was not a fate any child deserved or wanted. Soon after hearing about his father's death, a man came and approached Antonia to "rent" Francisco (in other words be his slave). Francisco pleaded with his mother (begged) to not do this to him because it would make him miserable. She relented to Francisco's desire, and he was not "rented".
How did he bring in money for his family? He was sent to his brother, Jose's home. He was to work. He learned to milk cows, and the money was given to his mother. Later, he worked in the fields. He would leave for work in the darkness, and work all day in the sun/heat. He would leave work after the sun had set. (In hindsight, what should have been done was to send Francisco to school to better himself/move up in class, and have Antonia move in with Jose. Then after educated he could support his family with more money. Unfortunately, uneducated people who spend their lives working hand to mouth do not understand the value of an education. I cannot imagine how much better Dad's life would have been had he went to school. Let this be a lesson to us for our family's future generations.)
Francisco and a group of his friends must not have liked school very much. On their way to school they would discuss better ways on how to spend the day. Then the group would skip school by jumping on the back of trucks heading for town. They would go around the town riding on these trucks; then finally end up in the fields where they spent their entire day. Doing what? Mom did not know because Dad never told her. Somehow (I'm guessing they did not own a watch) they kept track of time because they would be on a truck or bus heading home the hour school was out. (Not sure how old he was during this time.)
THE RICH LADY AND EDUCATION:
When Francisco was around 9 years old (school began at age 7 for children in those days, in Mexico), there was a wealthy woman who lived in the same town. She approached him one day, and asked him if he would like to attend a good school. If he was willing to go, she would be willing to pay for it. His parents agreed to the deal, and made preparations for him to go. When he was ready at last-an unexpected thing happened-his father died.
He was the man of the house now, and had responsibilities to his home. He could no longer attend school and support his mother at the same time. He put the needs of his mother ahead of his own.
In those days it was not uncommon for a child to be sold to another family to work as a slave in order to support the child's family. Children in those situations were often mistreated and abused by their owners. It was not a fate any child deserved or wanted. Soon after hearing about his father's death, a man came and approached Antonia to "rent" Francisco (in other words be his slave). Francisco pleaded with his mother (begged) to not do this to him because it would make him miserable. She relented to Francisco's desire, and he was not "rented".
How did he bring in money for his family? He was sent to his brother, Jose's home. He was to work. He learned to milk cows, and the money was given to his mother. Later, he worked in the fields. He would leave for work in the darkness, and work all day in the sun/heat. He would leave work after the sun had set. (In hindsight, what should have been done was to send Francisco to school to better himself/move up in class, and have Antonia move in with Jose. Then after educated he could support his family with more money. Unfortunately, uneducated people who spend their lives working hand to mouth do not understand the value of an education. I cannot imagine how much better Dad's life would have been had he went to school. Let this be a lesson to us for our family's future generations.)
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Introduction
I am starting this blog to assist myself with my family history. I have started to write it with the desire to gift it to my seven siblings, and mother. With the recent death of my father, I am more concerned with continuing my work on our geneolgoy. This has been my desire since my childhood.
My hopes is that my family can submit their stories, and help me create our history of the living and the dead. Hopefully, we can find more of our ancestors and maybe some live relatives to help our blog grow.
This blog is for our ancestors, our families, our children, and our children's children. I dedicate it to my mother, Lucia Flores Haro de Villanueva, and father, Francisco Villanueva Andrade.
My hopes is that my family can submit their stories, and help me create our history of the living and the dead. Hopefully, we can find more of our ancestors and maybe some live relatives to help our blog grow.
This blog is for our ancestors, our families, our children, and our children's children. I dedicate it to my mother, Lucia Flores Haro de Villanueva, and father, Francisco Villanueva Andrade.
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