Oh how I love the sound of my own voice, this isn't actually true. Some may think it is true by the way I talk and jabber on incessantly. I suppose that I have always loved to talk from a very young age. This may be because I was the first grandchild and niece, so they would put me in the center of the table and let me hold court. Rarely, if ever at I am a loss for words.
My parents aren't big talkers, they say I inherited the trait from my grandfathers family two of his sisters namely. Of course, my Gramie loved to talk even more than I do frequently chatting up strangers in the grocery store line. How she loved going to the beauty shop for her weekly chat session with Debbie.
Very often, she would have me play this game. She would give me her hand held mirror and tell me to pretend I was walking on the ceiling. It would keep me amused for quite some time and always fascinated me. I figured out this morning, she probably did that to keep me quiet and give herself a break.
One year in school, I was forced to sit facing the wall or a filing cabinet for half of the year. A young student teacher couldn't handle my jabbering and I wore her weary. I didn't mind because that let me be in my own land of imagination alas that is a story for another time.
My cousin Brianne came along and rivals me in the talking department. She would ( and probably still does) go to sleep talking and wake up talking. We both tend to be very loud when talking to one another and often our voices resemble a loud shouting on the phone.
Oh the telephone, how I have loved thee. Since I was about 12 years old, I have had long telephone conversations almost daily. I used to come home from school and call friends after doing my homework and spend hours on the phone. This carried over into my adult life.
When I moved away from my family and friends, the phone was my lifeline. I called my grandmothers and mother everyday for probably six months until I made new friends. One of my favorite antidotes to share is that my Grandma Brown taught me to make a whole Thanksgiving dinner over the phone. Even my Grandpa who was a rather quiet man would chat with me on the phone.
As a stay at home mom with young children who are homeschooled, I often spent hours on the phone talking to other moms. This was my life line of sorts for many, many years. It provided adult interaction while my husband was at work.
Since my grandparents are gone, I talk to my Dad on the phone at least four to five times a week. He gets anxious when I don't blog, Facebook or call him. Suddenly he thinks there must be something wrong with me!
Since Marty has been well, I spend very little time on the phone. Conner has inherited his momma's tongue and often chatters me ear off all day long. I now am the teach trying to focus the student and stop him from talking. I am the person handing him the mirror to go play a game for a moment of silence.
Marty will come home and usually he asks, " Who did you talk to today?" and I answer, "Nobody" and he looks at me as if I have grown another head. I just have little time with exercise, teaching, and chores to talk on the phone. Plus I have been reading Anne of Green Gables aloud to the kids and teaching, that is a lot of talking time.
I recently spent a week calling some of my long lost phone pals and catching up with them. I had to explain that its nothing personal, I am just busy and actually do miss them. Twitter and Facebook help provide the much needed adult interaction. I can easily send off a missive from my phone and go about my daily routine.
Sometimes change is a good thing, I think in this case it has been a bit of both. Of course, with my constant blogging, Facebooking and Tweeting there isn't much end to the talking. Now I talk in the written word instead of out loud. Sometimes its nice not to hear my own voice.
A/N Thank goodness Elizabeth has inherited her father's quiet gene. Sometimes if Conner is gone and we are all home alone the house is very silent.
