Inherit the Wind

I am my father’s daughter. I impressed Mom the other night when, about 9:00 pm, I opened up the box that my new Dish receiver came in (the old one had been having problems and what with the new TV Season coming up, I had to get it fixed), hooked it up, and got it working correctly in about 30-40 minutes. It wouldn’t have taken that long, but it involved me getting down on the floor and unplugging the old one, while removing the cats from the area where I was trying to work, then getting up and dusting, then getting back down, removing the cats again, and plugging the new receiver back in, all while continuously fighting to keep the cats, specifically Gizmo and Cleo, out of my way. I’m pleased to say the problems have been resolved. Cats aside, Dad had his way with electronic equipment. He worked for 25 years as a TV repairman. Now, I’m not one to open up something and work on the innards – Haley inherited that trait – but I do seem to be able to get things to work without having to read much, if any, of the instruction manuals! (This bodes well for the advent of my iPhone!)

I inherited another trait from my father. No matter where he went, he liked to back the car/van/truck/whatever into his parking spot. At home, at church, at the mall. The man loved to back the car into parking spots. I seem to have got this from him. The other morning, I was getting out of my car, in the “big boy” parking lot, and the partner beside whom I park happened to be arriving at the same time and he noted that I always seem to be backed into my spot. I responded that it aids in making a quick getaway. He looked at me oddly… they never seem to know how to respond to me. And then I said that I inherited it from Dad and how it always drove Mom nuts (in a good way) and now I continue his legacy (in both ways – parking and driving Mom nuts!)

I wrote a couple of blogs ago about my having inherited from Grandpa Hollis the quirk of getting up and going to bed 15 minutes before the show is over. There are a few other things I seem to have inherited from my ancestors.

Granny Barger had a way with African Violets, or so I’ve been told. I only vaguely remember, but mom tells me that she had a window with lots of African Violets (does that need to be capitalized?) growing in her kitchen. Mom has a black thumb where indoor plants are concerned and I sort of assumed I got it from her. But several years ago, at the Secretary’s Day lunch, there were African violets on each table and after the lunch, I ended up with one. I named it Bob. Nowadays, Bob is big. He blooms about every three months (I assume that’s normal), and I have to repot him periodically. I also have Jeffrey, who was a part of one of the floral arrangements we received for Dad’s funeral. Jeffrey should be a nice big, blooming dude, but when I moved in with Mom, Jeffrey moved in with us and after about two weeks, someone (I’m assuming said someone has four legs, as Mom disavows all knowledge) ate all but one of his leaves. So I took Jeffrey to work. He is slowly recuperating, but so far, no blooms. I think poor Jeffrey is still in shock – but come on, it’s almost been a year, dude! Get over it! Then there was Ted. I rescued Ted from one of the attorneys here (Ted, as the case may be) and brought him back to health and repotted him. But he kept growing weird and I think there was something wrong with the potting soil I repotted him in last time because it started molding, so I cut off some good looking leaves and stuck them in some water to grow roots. After a couple of months now, they’ve grown roots, been potted, and so far so good. I assume they are continuing to grow good strong roots because they aren’t doing anything above ground, but they appear to still be healthy.

Finally, one of my odder quirks, I got from Great-Grandpa Hindman (Grandma Hollis’s father). According to Mom, he, like me, did not like to co-mingle his food on his plate. Which I don’t find weird at all. Who wants their baked beans oozing onto their potato salad? I would much rather have several small plates or bowls. Of course I tend to take it a step further and generally eat all of one item before moving onto another items, saving the best (the meat) for last.