Christy C. House
Bio
Stories (5/0)
Do I Know You?
It's the face. I don't know if you can tell from photos but I have one of "those" faces. It's not about being "pretty" or something like that. I'm attractive enough for all practical purposes. It's something else. I’m somehow familiar. Because before I even open my mouth my FACE seems to tell people "Go ahead. You know me. I see you. Tell me. Tell me everything. I'm interested. I actually care. If you tell me maybe I can help." I'm a talker too. Sometimes that hides that I'm also a listener. But maybe the talking helps them feel that they are safe to talk too? In any case if that's the message they get from my face, to just TELL me, they aren't wrong. In my heart I find the human experience infinitely fascinating. But it's not just in my heart. It seems to also be written on my FACE.
By Christy C. House4 months ago in Confessions
The Night Before Christymas
My sister’s say that in their 55 years of marriage they can only remember our parents ever having ONE argument. They heard my father shouting “BUT YOU CAN’T BE PREGNANT!!!” That was me. I am an accident. I’m the third of three girls and the baby by 10 years. My mother was 38 and thought she was done with childbirth. Turns out that my parents had been using the “Rhythm Method” successfully without even so much as a scare for 10 years until me. My parents were both from the same small town in Southern Illinois…that still boasts a population of about 6500 residents give or take. Theirs is quite a love story…the boy from the wrong side of the tracks romances the daughter of one of the most prominent men in town with WWII getting in the way. But that's another story for another time. This is my story.
By Christy C. House4 months ago in Families
Moonshine Hall
His name was "Moonshine Hall'. Oh believe me when I say this alcoholic knows her Moonshine but that's not where the name came from. The man who raced him loved Barbados so all of his best horses were named after places on the island. Wherever the name came from I found him intoxicating. My husband Jay called him the FABIO of racehorses. He was a bright golden chestnut gelding with a long flowing mane. If the three of them had been a boy band Moonshine would have definitely been the heart throb. Karibou Gardens, the big dark bay just shy of 17 hands, would have been the strong, silent, athletic type who the girls loved because he was a little goofy. And Bishop Court Hill, the liver chestnut with the white sock up front, would have been the smart one with all the tricky dance moves. He might have worn glasses during interviews…Girl you know it's true…ooh ooh ooh oohh ooh.
By Christy C. Houseabout a year ago in Petlife
How I Earned My Name
She asked me...the human resources lady..."would you be willing to share a room onboard the train with a coworker of the opposite sex?" I blurted out without thinking "Is this a trick question?" I mean if I said "no" did that make me a prude? Or if I said "yes" was I some kind of a slut?
By Christy C. Houseabout a year ago in Journal