Finally…..the computer is up and running……

…….and hopefully, it isn’t running away from me! Although, at times, I wish it would fly out the window to greener pastures (Guam, Virgin Islands, etc.) where I could set under a tall shade tree sipping “courage-liquid in a tall glass with one of those cute little umbrellas in it” but alas, were I am is in the great state of T-E-X-A-S where the trees are as tall as the nearest fence post, which are by the way the state’s substitute for said trees I grew so fond of whilst living in the Eastern and Southern US states. I prefer green to brown any day! I shan’t even approach the subject of dust storms, the voluminous light breezes the locals have grown so accustom to, nor will I approach the fact that the air is so dry-dry-dry my skin is shrinking and quickly becoming rather wrinkled.

Lotion? Yes, I have bottles of the stuff but thus far, three weeks and counting into my stay the lotion isn’t doing its job!

So what is holding me here? That is a very good question and one I’m going to gleefully answer. He stands about one inch (give or take) above six feet and has a weird mustache I’d dearly love to remove (during the dead of night, with sheers, as he sleeps) but will leave alone because I’m smart that way. Besides, he hasn’t as suggested how he’d like me to cut my hair, so………

Smart women don’t mess with a Texan’s handlebars.

Another reason is simply that I am totally and head over heals in love with the dude from Shallowater . . . and this in and of itself plants my slippers firmly beside his. Besides, today when he said I was beautiful and the way he said it, (he may need new glasses) when I didn’t have a stitch of make-up on, wore a p.j. top covered by a zipped up workout jacket, hair kind-of-combed, and (dare I say it) slouching over the kitchen sink like a three year old would do, I knew I’d made the best choice of my life and all the dryness, the brown flat landscape and breezes anyone else in their right mind would call a good strong wind coming through vaporized. Those things weren’t important any longer. What became crystal clear was how important I am to him and in turn how important he is to me and it doesn’t matter if this land of dust is called home, or a mountain top somewhere where the kids can’t visit (well, maybe not that/there!!) the thing that matters is that for the remaining years I grace this planet Mother Earth, home is where he is, and I’m happy with that.

Making the Most of a Bad Situation

I was setting on the sofa, all comfy and settled in viewing last weeks airing Continuum that I’d missed while on holiday when my daughter walked in — Pause — and interrupted ‘my moment’ with what was a series of complaints about her sister. Awe, siblings. The need to vent about things that matter only to you because it is your sister you are talking about.  

Now, if it had been about a friend, she would have simply ignored or shrugged it off as a stupid idea to be sorted out down the line. In which case she would have listened (tongue in cheek) politely (biting tongue) to the outcome of that crazy/stupid idea and laughed along with them and said “I know! I know!” and then discussed how life ebbs and flows with good and bad ideas. But this was her sister she was complaining about!

 I sat quietly listening. Patient. Pondering. Thinking it was like the pot calling the kettle black — which was an epiphany — and then I understood that what my daughter was worried most about  was that her sister was two inches away from repeating the same misguided mistake she’d made many years ago. And that what she feared the most was an identical outcome. Judgment? No. Regret? Yes.  But I wasn’t in the mood to have that conversation — again — so I left it with “we’ll wait and see” and promised a telephone call to the younger sister. 

I didn’t need to make the call. The telephone rang and I picked it up. A short time later all was settled or as close to being settled as it could be.  

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I have this innateness about me — never one to fear calling a spade a spade and saying so to the person and sometimes at my peril (not laughing) when doing so doesn’t turn out well. But, here’s the thought: be honest and up front with family and above all else be clear! Don’t leave unsaid what needs to be said. Be concerned about feelings and be loving in delivery but say the words that need to be spoken.  And, for Pete’s Sake, don’t be self-righteous! (remember that when you point your finger look to see how many fingers are pointed right back at you)

On another day the skies bluer, I’m sure of it.

 

 

impromptu moments: (teaching young children about the world around them)

teaching children

Yes, that is an earth worm being held in the hand of my granddaughter Hannah Grace, age 4 while her cousin Destiny, age 5 looks on. If you look closely each girl is relaxed and ”in the moment” as they discover how it feels to hold the earth worm. Destiny’s mother Rebecca is telling them all about the earth worms habitat and habits and how important they are to our garden soil and, well, that they must keep them safe and not destroy them.
As I looked on I was drawn back in time to more than sixty years ago —

The Summer of 1949 was extremely hot. The red clay soil was so dry it had turned to a fine powder. It felt like silk between my toes and after mid morning became too hot to walk on without shoes. I remember this because I remember that I walked with my grandmother Nannie to a nearby neighbor’s farm to swap her freshly made butter for jam and on the way back I wore my shoes.  All I need do — all these years later — is close my eyes and drift back in time to feel the powdered clay pushing up between my toes and smell the aroma of the pastures on my grandparents farm. This is something that has never left me.

In a way it is the roots that have grounded me all my years. I know the peoples I belong to, what I am part of. The history. The family. My family.

Lately I have found myself revisiting a time very few of my friends can equate to because they did not live it.  They did not live in rural America, did not know the feel of the hide, the stench of a wet barn nor the sweetness of that same barn after being freshly laid with clean straw. They did not swing from rafters and they certainly never tipped a cow.

I wish more than life itself my grandchildren could experience what I experienced as a child or at least when I tell them of my life they would completely understand it.  But I fear the stories are too removed from what their lives consist of today for them to fully appreciate how wonderful it was all those years ago.  At times they look at me in wonderment when I tell them of my grandparents farm.  I’m completely convinced they think I’m making up stories for their entertainment.

When they are elder — sixty years hence — will their grandchildren understand how it felt for them to hold an earth worm? How then can I expect them to know how it felt for fine silken soil to filter through my toes. But I want to keep trying to explain all the things that were so wonderful when I was their age so at each and every opportunity I become an impromptu performer and charm them with my stories.

 

 

 

 

 

Self-Centered People ~~~ and other things I can not stand

I have never passed by a donuts shop without stopping in. There you have it, my secret guilty pleasure. The aroma of the freshly baked goods ~~~ Awe — mouth watering anticipation of what’s to travel from pallet to tummy . . . except for one thing “”I really don’t like donuts!””

There I’ve said it: I don’t actually like donuts. I just like the way they smell and the way they look. What I do like is the toppings ;) But then again, my blood sugar level rises to above what’s normal just smelling them, so I don’t eat them, I just look at them and wish I could eat them and be like the tiny train who tried its best to huff and puff its way to the top of the hill. Oh wait, the little train made it to the top, didn’t it? A better analogy, and one that just came to mind, is the fact that all donuts lack a center, which, in turn means I can think of all donuts as being non-self-centered culinary delights. I like this being that I don’t care much for self-centered peoples so why would I care to have self-centered donuts?  Just sayin’ folks, there is something to be said for the donuts lacking a center.

This brings me, in a round-about-way, to people who are self-centered. I don’t like them. And it goes beyond simply not liking them. I detest self-centered peoples for their arrogance and lack common courtesy, and I avoid them at all costs. When faced with an encounter with someone who is not genuinely considerate of others I leave them with polite banter as I walk away hoping they will not notice what I truly think of them.  (sadly, what is written on my face always gives me away, if these folks were to notice in the first place which is unlikely because they usually are so . . . ) But, as I leave them in my dust hoping for fresher air to breathe I’m always worried that I’ve been thoughtless. I mean I don’t want to appear to be thoughtless. I just want to breathe fresher air!

This brings me to another thought: That of being judgmental of others. I don’t like to judge. It’s not my place to put my shoes on some one else’s feet! In other words I can’t expect — y-o-u — to be like me for me to accept and to like you and to include you into my tiny cycle of friends. Ask any of my friends and they will all tell you that we are all different but bonded by our friendships which keeps us together and growing strong because we genuinely care about the other person. And we do not judge the other person either for misguided paths — usually romantic paths — we may take. We are friends of acceptance, understanding, compassion, laughter (even through tears) who openly share our hopes and dreams with each other. And we have each other’s backs!

This brings me to yet another thought: This year, when the prospect of romance took me down an unrighteous path it was my friends who kindly helped me understand the impending inferno.  Whew, close call. Thanks to those who had my back ;) — I mean, T-H-A-N-K  Y-O-U big time because all us gals know how self-centered men can ruin a genuine woman’s life with his words . . . it’s like he knew exactly what to say and when to say and do things . . . and actions. My Someone turned out to be something else than My Wonderful. Of course, he also turned out to be married (LOL) and a father too. And, all the plans he’d made with me had to be cancelled after I found him OUT!

Wiser. Stronger. Older (ugh). Still wishing I could have it all but realizing having it all isn’t actually possible. At least I’m not self-center, Y’all!!

A Letter to my Valentine

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On this day when couples declare their L-O-V-E for a special person in their life, let me declare mine for you. 

You leave me breathless – You make me melt – You put a smile on my face each and every morning. I even willing want to wash your socks! I do not mind the ‘downside to you’ because the ‘upside to you’ is so spectacular. I love how you let me know exactly who you are; and how you look past my flaws to actually see who I am, and approve! I love how there is zero pretense and total  transparency between us. 

The best kind of love finds you when you are being totally yourself! 

So, Happy Valentine’s Day, my Special–nameless (because this ‘kind of stuff’ embarrasses you)–Someone. ;-) I <3 U

Things to do on a sunny day

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Okay….I agree, this is not funny and no one would actually do this. Right?

The other things no one would ever do on a sunny day are:

  • tie the new puppy to a park bench and quickly skedaddle away — note pinned, “free to good home”! 
  • fill a box full of toads, wrap it up with pretty pink ribbon, then present it to your mother.
  • put two helpless goldfish into the Culligan water cooler.
  • plant Cannabis in the middle of the vegetable garden!
  • use shingles as a Frisbee — sailing them from a roof top into the street below.
  • have a peeing contest — outside of course — to see who can hit ‘the spot’ in the neighbor’s yard. 

No one would do these things, right? No one, that is, except my twins, who on any given sunny day were full of surprises. The twins, whom I let live, turned 30 this past year.  

Let me just say for clarity that when these things happened I was at work, earning the money for the clothes on their backs and the food on their tables. They should have been more thankful but kids will be kids, or is it boys will be boys . . . whatever, Martha! They were a mess growing up but they were also so lovely and dear sweet little ones too. I often wondered if I did the best job I could do with them. Then today came a note, a thank you note, from one of my twins for a present I gave him not too long ago.

“Mom, thank you so much for my socks and the thermos,
the thermos keeps my coffee hot until the end of the day,
but your love fills my soul a whole lot more than any gift!
Your love will always be in my heart Mom!!! Love you, Kevin” 

And my heart melted — I may not have always done things perfectly — I may have spent too much time on case files and pleadings at a time when they needed my undivided attention — I may have spent too much time with my writing, as well — but in-spite of any motherly imperfections, my kid loves me! 

Starting the New Year Right as Rain

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Have you ever been sucked in – spit out – then sucked right back in again at the sound of “his” voice? You know the voice — the one that makes your head swirl and heart jump. You never intended the road to love to be so rocky. You begin to make excuses for his behavior as you kept trying to kindle and rekindle. But over time the joy turns to frustration.  And if the suckering you back in thing goes on too many times you lose all boundaries to a good relationship.  A right as rain relationship. This is where I have landed myself!

When it becomes apparent to ‘all family and friends’ that some of your marbles have gone missing, they intervene in a big way; your well-meaning friends tell you your elevator is skipping a few doors reaching the top floor, in fact they tell you that you’re a few bricks shy of a full stack!  Okay, all puns aside, when it becomes painfully apparent to everyone, even you, that you are in a rather pathetic state it is time for a reality check.  This is where I am right now.

Over the past several years I have been sucked in and let go so many times by the same man I have actually lost count. Each time I say: I’m not doing this! Then, I do. I can’t seem to help myself. Love has a funny way of making ‘wrongs’ into ‘rights’ and all he ever has had to say was “I love you” and it all started all over again. This has gone on for years, a fact I am embarrassed to admit. The thing is: each time he let go for a while the thread holding my affections weakened. And each time during the silent periods my discerning mind became more operational. Sad news for Mr. Win, I’m sure but this is true. I got stronger each time the silence came until finally the silence bothered me no more.

How can it bother me now? After all, we were to the point of his being my date for my daughter’s wedding — but then the wedding came during one of his ‘silences” — but that was the year before my grandson was born. My grandson just turned five last year. I think I’ve given this relationship enough time, don’t you?

So, I’m starting the new year as right as rain. 2013 should be a very good year. At least it will not suffer from ‘silence’ as my plans don’t include anything or any one that shifts my bricks out of whack!