at least that's what they are supposed to...
Real life is different, though - most normal people i know are the ones with quirks, smirks and real life problems and real life living.
Take my mom, for example - as normal as vanilla ice cream, a housewife with a Bachelor's degree, a great cook, a great listener, and yes, even a hobby of her own - quilting.
My mom is turning 65 in a few weeks, so she's really had her share of normal in her life.
but then, she's also had quite some other times as well - like when she and my dad recently went on their first safari in Kenya. my mom. the one that spends half her time during the day cleaning messes other people made. the one that insists that only ironed kitchen towels are worthy of residing in her kitchen drawer.the one that can't function properly without having a cup of coffee right after getting up. the one that taught us kids that cleanliness comes right after godliness.
MY mom went on a safari.
my head is still reeling from that.
apparently, they had the complete "out of africa" experience, with white tents, brass wash basins, breakfast above the savannah, with waiters wearing black bowties. and a massai in front of the tent at night, to keep my mom from winding up as breakfast above the savannah herself.
other "un-normal things"? oh, yeah, plenty: like growing up on a small farm (we're talking about five cows, 10 chickens and 10 kids here) in germany, sleeping in a bed with her three sisters. toys were almost non-existent. there was a two-room dollhouse and there was one käthe kruse doll to be shared by the four girls.
compare that to the piles and miles of stuff pouring forth from every kid's closet in this country nowadays, and you'll understand why this is noteworthy.
other un-normalities: leaving home with two suitcases, a passport, a new life in the womb to seek out a new life in a country halfway around the world. my parents emmigrated to the u.s.a. in the very early sixties - when people still travelled with hats, gloves and high heals.
they spoke practically no english.
they had no job.
the only people they knew in this country was my dad's sister and mother.
they also had almost no money, so they wound up on campus at lee college (now lee university) in cleveland, tennessee.
their first appartment was one with shared bathroom - actually, everything was shared, with mostly little cockroaches. yuck.
the armchair had a hole that was conveniently covered by my mom's elbow in their first christmas pictures in their new homeland.
oh, and the spots on the armchair? those only appeared when the people living upstairs flushed their toilet...
thinking back over all the stories, anekdotes and recollections of my parents makes me realize why i am where i am today. it's in the genes.
yep, my life is pretty much plain vanilla as well - my husband and i have three kids, a small farm with 5 sheep (check out our
sheep-cam here ), one dog and one cat. though my kitchen towels aren't ironed (well, actually, in my house, nothing is ironed...) and godliness definitely comes wayyyyy before cleanliness, there are glimpses of light between all the bland.
like teaching myself to paint. or getting my motorcycle license. or leaving home to work in a nursing home in neuchatel in switzerland. or driving four hours to have breakfast in strassbourg, france with friends. or learning to take apart a complete vw beetle, just because i can.
looking back, THOSE are the normal moments for me. living on the edge a bit. pushing the limits and trying to see beyond the horizon. and best of all: leaving the kitchen towels and ironing to those that have that as their horizon....
