Sometimes I Learn

Over the years I have had one or two falling outs with this friend or that. The infamous two year silence between the Writer and I is the stuff of legends. Why, it only took a wee brain tumor to jolt us back to reality. We are great friends even though we do not always agree on everything. She makes me laugh, tells me when I'm being an idiot, and always has my back.

Which leads me to the Stalker and her recent visit.

The Stalker and I have known each other since I was sixteen-years-old. We started a business together, traveled the US promoting said business and opened a publishing house. It was hard work and we discovered how different we are in many respects.

She's a, "How are the wife and kids?" kind of boss.

I am a, "What! The project isn't finished? Get it done!"

In many ways she is a finer human being than I am. More devout, more compassionate, and more concerned that other people like her. She's a pleaser. Then sometimes she's an in-your-face, don't tell me what to do, ruler of all she beholds, kinda girl.

Funny that.

She has also been very, very, very ill for the past twenty or so years. She's had a rough road, yet she's so positive. The Stalker has a way of pushing through the pain to get a job done. I suppose that is part of the reason God has blessed her with eight children. Yes, eight.

The Stalker also talks NON-STOP. I think sometimes that she thinks silence is a bad thing and does her utmost best to make sure every second is filled with noise sound. The girl can talk. I. Kid. You. Not.

Talk the ear right of an elephant, seriously.

My mother nicknamed her Bubbles, for obvious reasons and strangely enough, the name still fits. She is exactly like a carbonated soda, all shook up, and exploding right in front of you. There is just something about her that you either fall in love with, or you run screaming from the room.

I hope though, that you'd stay. Stay and sort through the analysis. Listen and root around until you find the heart of what she's saying. Often times it's worth it.

Over breakfast the other day she and I had a serious discussion. It's one of the best we've ever had and I'm glad we had a few moments alone to sort some things out. Sometimes she makes me want to bang my head against the wall. Really. Hard.

Other times, I am awed by her generosity and her tender heart. It's times like these that I wonder why she's my friend.

As the years have passed I've come to understand that it's okay to be different. It's okay to have friends who do not always agree with me. More often than not it's people like the Stalker, the Writer, the Singer, and the Giver who make me a better person simply because I know them.

So, Stalker? Thanks for the visit. Thanks for the honest, heartfelt words. Thanks for Godiva Cheesecake (oi, my waistline) and Gustav's. Thanks for cheap breakfast and losing your toothbrush (it's in the bathroom by the way), your hairbrush, your purse. Thanks for just being you in all your silliness.

Stalker, you rock babe.

God bless and God's speed.

Two Posts in One Day? What Gives?

I had the bestest day. A really, really awesome day at work, no less! I don't really know why. It just felt good. Everyone was in such a great mood. Lots and lots of laughter. Maybe it was the cool air that smacked them in the face the minute they opened the door. Maybe it was my witty and charming self (not!). Perhaps it was simply because today is Friday. I don't know why, but it rocked!

My friend, The Stalker, is in town for a few days. She'll be attending her high school reunion tomorrow night. She graduated a year before I did, so basically, we know a lot of the same people. But I don't "reunion".

Evah

I just...well...I don't care. I'm not out to impress someone with my resume, which is strangely lacking due to all the years of momminess. My nearly non-existent writing career isn't much to write home about and I'm fat. My hair is turning gray. My greatest accomplishment is my children and the fact that I'm still married to the same guy nearly twenty-two years later really doesn't mean much if you're trying to keep up with the Joneses.

Cept, I'm not. Cause I don't care.

But, I've gotten off topic.

Sorry.

Anyway, Stalker is going to her reunion and when a lady at the gym mentioned that she was supposed to attend her reunion tomorrow also I couldn't help but ask which high school.

You guessed it, she and I did attend the same school. Weird huh?

It wasn't until she brought her yearbook in from her car that we could truly place each other.

Man, I totally had Farrah hair back then. Wavy, big, brown, Farrah hair.

Somehow, I think Farrah would be proud of my rockin' big hair.

Everyone at the club had a good laugh with the two of us as we compared notes about who was married, divorced, or still mean after all these years.

Other ladies started sharing about their reunions or lack thereof. It was fun to listen to their stories and I think everyone felt the way that I did: uplifted.

I still don't know why really. What I do know is that we live on a small rock in a huge universe. You just never know who you'll run into.

It Ain't No Picnic

Boy and Girl are learning hard lessons. Difficult lessons about life. It was bound to happen, especially since we let them both know in no uncertain terms that we expected them to grow-up, work hard, and become productive adults.

Okay, we weren't harsh, but they knew that growing up meant standing up all by themselves, earning their own money, and gettin' on with life.

They both know they wouldn't be spending their twenties firmly planted on our sofa, eating our food, and playing video games.

We don't own any video games.

Anywho, Boy has been in a position of leadership this week. He's the man. The Big kahuna. The alpha dog. The boss.

(My little boy! In charge! I'm so proud! Gush!!!)

Oh, and he's sick.

sick
sick
sick

This week he's learned that being in charge is a difficult thing. He doesn't know the answers to some questions. He is responsible for everyone and every thing. He has to go to work even when he's sick.

Yeah, being an adult stinks sometimes.

Girl has worked for the last two weeks at VBS at church. She's also been in a leadership position. However, because she's only sixteen (going on seventeen) there are some adults who dismiss her authority. It steams her. It really does.

(My Girl! She's a giver and a hard worker. Do NOT trample her enthusiasm!)

Today is the last day of camp and then she'll be babysitting until the late hours of the night. Tomorrow she'll be up at the crack o' dawn to go blueberry picking with me (something she is not really looking forward to). After that, I'll drive her into the BIG city so that she can attend the Highland Games with her friend.

She will have to use her own funds to do this because the bank of mom and dad is currently closed - we were not part of the stimulus plan. Snicker.

In short, this week my children have learned that being an adult, well, it ain't no picnic. And it's expensive. And there will always be someone to throw tacks in your path. And that often times you work when you are sick, or tired, or just plain don't want to.

It ain't no picnic. No sir.

Somewhere Between Here and There

A former classmate of mine has been posting scanned pages from our yearbooks on Facebook. When it first started happening I cringed knowing that sooner or later my face would appear. But it didn't. Not for a long time. Until a day or so ago.

There I am, front row, frizzy BIG hair, sitting next to my best friend with her BIG glasses. It was shocking. It really was.

And I could only think of one question: "Where was my mother?"

I mean seriously! How could that woman let me leave the house looking like a Q-Tip? All this time I thought I was pretty cute in high school. Ahh how the mind deceives!

Granted, it was the 80's. Big hair, big belts, short skirts, lip gloss, air guitar, new wave, punks, stoners, preppies and dudes with eyeliner (and you thought Adam Lambert was the first...snicker).

The 1980's was a strange time. I thought different. I was a LIBERAL. I thought the grown-ups and Reagan were going to blow us all to kingdom come. I even wrote a play about that topic that won a national award.

I recently found that little bit of dribble and re-read it. Scary. Not that the topic is scary, but that it WON an award! Who judged this piece of tripe? Uggh.

Anyway, the 1980's brought us movies and music that we will not soon forget. Oh, that we could!

Top five movies from 1985 (the year I graduated):

Back to the Future
Rambo: First Blood Part II
Rocky IV
The Color Purple
Out of Africa

But wait! Where is The Breakfast Club, Fast Times at Ridgemont High (my mother let me watch this??), or Sixteen Candles?

Top albums for the 1980's:

London Calling, The Clash
Purple Rain, Prince
The Joshua Tree, U2
Remain In Light, Talking Heads
Graceland, Paul Simon
Born in the U.S.A., Bruce Springsteen
Thriller, Michael Jackson
Murmur, R.E.M.
Shoot Out The Lights, Richard and Linda Thompson
Tracy Chapman, Tracy Chapman


Now, granted, I copied this list from a pop culture website, so maybe these aren't THE top ones, but I'm willing to bet they are pretty close. Unless you were a headbanger. Than these did nothing for you.

Top ten heavy metal albums from 1980's:

Ride the Lightning/Master of Puppets (1984/1986)- Metallica
Life After Death - Iron Maiden
Live Evil - Black Sabbath
Among the Living - Anthrax
Holy Diver - Dio
Balls to the Wall - Accept
Blizzard of Ozz - Ozzy Osbourne
Power and the Glory - Saxon
Theater of Pain/Shout at the Devil - Motley Crue
Appetite for Destruction - Guns n’ Roses

Strange times my friend. Strange times. The year I graduated my best friend got pregnant. The staff tried to force her to quit school. She wouldn't. The kids were cruel to her and called her dirty names. I stuck by her. No one applauded when she walked up on the stage, six months pregnant, and took her diploma. Which is so different from today when young girls are encouraged to stay in school and no one blinks when they waddle up on stage.

Like every generation before us, we struggled to find who we were and to somehow avoid turning into our parents. We thought we were better, smarter, stronger. In reality, we turned out to be humans simply trying to survive on this little rock we call Earth.

Driving, Doodle, and Dancing

I'm house sitting for the Singer. She's gone for...three weeks. Three. Weeks. The dogs, Chess, Winnie, and Doodle needed company and someone to feed them. Those duties fell to me.

I'll post a picture of the Doodle later. She's a teacup poodle and fierce! Why she even scared Dingo the Cat who isn't afraid of anyone. Gasp!

So, I'm splitting time between houses which means I have two houses to keep tidy, double the animals to care for, and extra driving to do.

Saturday was the Narnia Ball. We found Girls dress at Goodwill, brand new with price tag still attached: $188.00. We picked it up for a mere $14.95. What a find!

Per tradition, our friends gathered here for a meal and the primping that takes place before such an event. Everything was going as planned...till the power went out. Seriously.

Thankfully, the meal was already prepared and we simply moved outside and enjoyed the mild weather where we feasted on shredded pork and white bean burritos. I made the MOST amazing chunky avocado salsa - recipe to follow.

I'm off to do more driving and leave you with pictures from the weekend.

Waiting for the Narnia Ball to begin



Friends! Dress for the evening ranged from ball gowns, WWII costumes, classic school girl attire, to knights, the white witch, and an imp or two.



Girl and her Daddy



Beloved and I saw this one and our mouths dropped open. Where did SHE come from? She's our pretty, pretty girl!

It Was a Smelly Smell

An old man at the laundry mat smelled strongly of liquor and cigarettes. I suppose that isn't terribly unusual, except it was 8:30 in the morning! Hello!!

We've removed Washerella's body and recycled it. The hoses from the wall have been leaning into the utility sink, still in mourning. They seem so...droopy. Last night, Girl needed to hand wash several items and asked what she should do with the hoses. I told her to let them hang to the floor, it won't hurt anything.

Wrong! Last night the entire room reeked of...something. The cat box? Nothing that toxic has ever emitted a scent like that from the litter box! The room now smells of bleach.

As you walk past the front flowerbed a wisp of fragrance will surround you. It is delightful and I stood in one spot for several moments last night, inhaling deeply and treasuring this small gift.

The aroma of growing tomatoes is beginning to waft through the air while the butterfly bush lures those dainty winged creatures with a subtle hint of sweetness.

Interesting how some scents wrap us in their warmth and beauty while others repulse us.

What did YOU smell today?

The Truth Is: Take Two

The truth is I cannot, for the life of me, come up with a blog topic for today.

I considered writing about the toothpaste that dribbled down my chin and onto my perfect BLACK shirt leaving a ghostly white spot that will not scrub out with water.

I drove Girl to camp where she has been working since Monday. She has 8 days left. Heaven help us.

The truth is, Girl is NOT a morning person and has been getting up at 6:00 am ON HER OWN! I had no idea she had it in her.

I was going to do more yard work today, but decided to be lazy instead.

I worked-out yesterday for the first time since the ouchie back and today I did Pilate's. The back is minorly ouchie.

The truth is, and I know at least one of you will snicker when you read this, I watched Michael Jackson's daughter's speech. Poor, poor lamb.

I did NOT watch any of the rest of MJ's memorial service and I'm still baffled by the media frenzy.

I have a new cake recipe thanks to PW. Italian Cream Cake coming to a blog near you...soon.

I still haven't found a dress for Girl and the ball is Saturday. Where is a fairy godmother when you need her?

The truth is I'm sitting here drinking a diet Pepsi, freezing, and wondering why I didn't put sock on this morning. It's a whopping 56 degrees outside. It's July. JULY!

The truth is I could probably sit here and ramble on about nothing for a very long time, but I think I've killed enough of your brain cells for the time being.

For more enjoyable reading, please visit my friend Travis Erwin and learn why lettuce is the devil.

Or in case you are having a pity party and would like to read about how much worse life could be visit friend Teri and read about the summer of FAIL.

Startin' Out Right

It's Monday morning. Why is it so much harder to get up on a Monday morning after a holiday? Yawn. I'm off to work. Girl is off to camp. Beloved is...sleeping...

I leave you with these. Happy "yawn" Monday.

Beautiful!


My MIL's favorite. Every summer she would hang baskets around the deck with these beauties


I love the feathery look of these


Chili, I dares you to grow bigger, sweet, spicier. I dares ya!


Das Butterfly bush. It really does attract butterflies. Beautiful, beautiful bush