I can only give you one reason why I visit Tremonton; my family. Otherwise, I have disassociated myself with this town. It is not difficult for me to display my abhorrence of this town. Well, I should not say I loathed the place, but I believe it is could be defined as hostility I have not let diffuse. Long story short; I never belonged.
However, let us stray from the bitterness.
My mother is an amazing mother. As many mothers should be or are, my mother is a prodigious feat. I visited her today, and when I drove up to my parent's home. There, our house, was my mother's anomalous display of Christmas. We all know that Christmas lights hang in a homogenous-ly traditional form; santa's sleigh on the rooftop, icicles hanging from the molding of the home, candy canes aligned along the sidewalk and pathway to the home.
My mother's home is some-what this representation of Christmas. Our house is over-the-top. Almost as if the after-Christmas clearance-sale was taking place at the house. Yes, many mothers can be over-the-top. However, my mother leaves the boxes, garland, excessive "christmas" leftovers around the house, and tells me "She's not quite done". Trying to get to the door is an army warfield, christmas lights and extention cords are criss crossed along the entire frame of the yard.
My parents have one of those 70's satellites dishes in the front of their yard. (You know the satellite that could make contact with other life-forms outside of our universe.) Well, my mother likes to decorate this as well. Now, not only are they contacting the other planets, but my parent's provide lightyears of light for a possible, universal disco party. Greetings from earth!
I love her for her oddities though. I love that the inside of our house looks like a museum/thrift/jungle/flowergarden/doll haven. The disorderly decorations, and potraits of people I do not know hanging through out the house echoes a sigh of relief in my heart that I grew up there. This was once my home too, even if there is a block of wood that displays the "Nelson's" live here.
I have recieved so many treasured gifts. Somehow, my mom has two (and plus) of everything in her house, and whenever I need something BAMN. "Need a vacumn, honey." my mother will pull it from behind a loveseat. "Need Christmas/Easter/Halloween/Hannukah decoartions, " my mother will bulldoze through her graveyard of singing platforms, and have six boxes left over and take them out to the car for me.
Today, I wanted to have her stored sewing notions, and she asked if I needed a sewing machine. "Yes, of course," I said with anticipation hoping for the Juki vintage sewing machine. This was the mother of all industrial sewing machines; a long arm machine with a grace pinnacle alluminum frame, surestitch regulator, pattern templates, extension table, sewing speed of 1500 rpm, and so much more. Truly, that was what I was intending/ hoping for.
Not only did my mom have this sewing machine, but over the course of three years, managed to collect three more sewing machines. I was like a kid in candy shop, because all four were in mint condition. However, I went with the Juki. Right now, I am still figuring out how to transport this heavy machine to my apartment in Salt Lake City, and is it worth moving now. I only plan on being here until summer.
I just wanted to let you all know I love my mom tons. She's very ecstatic to have a grandchild. Lucky grandma.
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