I'm Back

The dreamy one has been asking me to start writing again, so now that I have a little more time I will give it a try. And, since the spring flowers are so beautiful right now, I'll give you something pretty to gaze upon.







Happy Mother's Day to all Mommies!

Lazy Days of Summer

I've admitted somewhere on this blog that I'm a workaholic.

Well, now that I've actually taken some time off (one week down, working on second), it's hard to want to go back to work. I like reading. I like surfing the net with my pooch curled up beside me. I like taking the kids swimming in the afternoons.

Are these the things I've supposed to been doing all along?

Hmm....

One problem though - while I'm relaxing these couple of weeks, I can't stop the mind from thinking of all the things I should be doing at the office, or things that need to be taken care of.

How do I get the mind to take a break as well?

Maybe alcohol will help.

or perhaps a trip to the Bahamas!

Anyone going? May I stow away?

Bountiful Harvest

There is just something so good about the taste of a vine-ripened, freshly picked and washed, perfectly formed tomato that will make me ooh, ahhh, and moan so loudly that the neighbors wonder what I'm up to.



I've been back to the old deep, deep south homestead this week, and one of the pleasures of going home, other than seeing my sweet Mommy, of course, is the bounty that the backyard garden holds. Tomatoes, peppers, squash, corn, lima beans, cantaloupe, okra, eggplant, watermelon, zucchini, and other goodies are all waiting to be picked just 20 yards from the back door.

As a kid growing up here, the first thing we did each sumer morning was to go see what was ready to harvest in the garden. Usually whatever landed in the harvest basket in the morning was on the dining table at lunch or dinner.

When the corn came in, everybody got busy. My father and brother picked it, I shucked and silked it, my grandmother cut it off the cobb, and my Mom prepared it for "canning." Even though we actually froze the corn in quart bags, we called it canning.

Canning is a big thing down south. Over the course of the summer we would put up (can) about 100 bags of corn, 30 quart jars of green beans, 100 pints of tomatoes, and I haven't a clue how many bags of butter beans, and purple hull peas. Those canned vegetables would bring back summer memories during the cold winter. I especially loved the way the tomatoes tasted in a bowl of hot vegetable soup. Yummy.

Well, this week, I've become spoiled again to the wonder that is the summer garden. We've had fresh vegetables for lunch or dinner every day this week. And folks, there ain't a store bought tomato on earth that tastes like one fresh out of the garden.

The family visit has been wonderful... and the veggies too. But, it's also sad to come home. My little hometown has changed so much. There's not a thing for young people to do here. Crime is ridiculous.

I drive down the streets that I once traversed on my bicycle and think that if I lived here again, there's no way I'd feel comfortable letting my children ride their bikes so carefree like I did.

The county school boards up their windows over the summer because of vandalism.

Five churches have been broken into and musical equipment has been stolen.

There was a shooting down the street and around the corner from where my sweet Mama lives.

When I went to buy milk this evening at the corner convenience store, I saw a drug deal in progress.

And yet, when I walked in the store, three people that I haven't seen in 25 years knew exactly who I was and greeted me by my first name. I had no clue who they were.

Oddly enough, with all the crime, and all the sad reminders that this town isn't the same anymore, it's still home. Cause just after I was greeted by name, the question was asked, "How's yo Momma? You tell her to call me if she needs sumthin.'"

And, they mean it.

And that, my friends, is why I will ALWAYS be a southern girl.

Cheers!

Raise the Rafters in Living Color

Howdy! Been busy and absent lately. But I'm back.

I've had something strange happen to me, and I don't quite know what to make of it.

I've started dreaming again.

For the last 15-20 years, I rarely, truly rarely, remember my dreams, or even have the feeling that I have dreamed. I'm not sure why I stopped dreaming so many years ago, but I did. And on those rare occasions when I did wake up feeing like I had dreamed, I never remembered anybody or anything in them!.

Weird!

Well, since mid-May, I awake almost every morning and either remember parts of my dreams, or at least feel certain that I did dream. But, I still do not dream of anyone I know. My dreams are filled with strangers. In my dream I know them and they know me, but as an onlooker for my dreams, I have no clue who these people are.

Weird!

But, at least I'm dreaming!

Oh... and apparently I've begun snoring heavily too. I wonder if there is a correlation?

Ah phooey.... who gives a fuck! I'm back in Dreamsville. Whoopeeeee!

Getting to Know Me

"Getting to know you, getting to know all about you. Getting to like you. Getting to hope you like me."

--Anna in The King and I


One of the difficulties of building a new friendship is getting to know the idiosyncracies of the other person.

Confession. I'm an odd bird. Reason and logic are my mainstays. But to employ them, I often need solitude.

Today was a rough day. Lots of decisions weighing heavily on my shoulders, new deadlines I just found out about that are only a couple of days away - and I'm not ready for them - woes at home, health concerns, etc. By the end of the day, I was bitchy, snippy, and really tired. When I'm like this, I really don't want to impose my bitchiness, snippiness, and fatigue on anyone.

But I did.

And I'm sorry.

I just needed some time to be alone and think. That's how I handle days like this.

Tomorrow I'll likely be my cheery self again. But for today, I need to go to my cave alone and think.

Hugs,
me

Strawberry Fields Forever

In one of my earlier posts I mentioned that I would not stay inside during my days off, and that I intended to get the kids out of the house to enjoy Mother Nature.

So, this morning I googled "you pick strawberry" and found info on a strawberry farm very close to our home. Thinking that the rest of the family would be as delighted as I was to learn that we could pick strawberries fresh on the farm just a few miles down the road, I went into the den full of enthusiasm and announced,

"Who wants to go strawberry picking this afternoon?"

(crickets)

"Ahem, who wants to go strawberry picking on this lovely afternoon?"

At least this time they responded,

"You must be nuts, it's 92 degrees outside."

"Mommmm, I'm on the black level of my Harry Potter Quidditch game, really now." (yes he actually talks like that)

"It's hot, and it rained, and like, I'll get sweaty and muddy."


Obviously, they did not share my enthusiasm for strawberry picking. Time to change tactics.

Still full of enthusiasm, I tried again,

"Who wants to eat some strawberry shortcake?"

Their responses were much different.

"Yummy, I didn't know you made one this morning."
"Awesome, Mom."
"OOOhhhh, I love your strawberry shortcake."

I chuckled.

"Well, he who eats must first pick. The mommy mobile will be departing for the strawberry fields in ten minutes."

Suddenly shoes were being donned, water bottles for post-picking drinking were being tossed in a cooler with ice, sunscreen was being applied, sunglasses and hats were on, and the dog was leashed and ready by the door. I actually didn't let pooch go... too bloomin' hot today.

And off we went.



The field was HUGE. The owner told me she had 80,000 plants out there. I believed her. It was a bit muddy, but they had tossed straw in the middle of the rows to soak up some of the water.

I showed the kids how to tell if the berries were ripe and off they went to their own rows. We picked and picked until our buckets were full and then headed back to the entrance to have them weighed and pay for our harvest. We picked just under eleven pounds.

Here's our harvest...




Didn't get a chance to take a picture of the strawberry cake cause the hungry pickers got into it before I could take one.

It was a fun day, y'all.

She Feels Pretty, Oh So Pretty...

For reasons that I'll leave for the therapists to decipher, my best friend has generally projected a slightly more masculine look rather than girlie girl, yes, like me. Not that I have a problem with this at all. Mind you, she is always impeccably dressed - starched Ralph Lauren shirts, tailored slacks, polished Italian leather loafers, stylish, nice jewelry from Tiffany or David Yurman - very professional, very polished. Honestly, if I could afford to wear the type of clothes she does, I would consider giving up the girlie girl image! But, occasionally, I think she lets her clothes determine how she feels about herself as a woman, and I think that deep down she'd like to explore the girlie girl side a bit more. Anyway...

Recently, best friend tried on a dress she was to wear in a wedding. A gorgeous dress. Strapless, beautiful, formal gown. While attempting to help her zip up the dress - another giggle-filled story there - I asked her if she had a strapless bra, corsette, bustier, basque, or any type of garment that would suck you in, push you up and out, and create curves.

Her: "Uh, nooooo."

Me: "Uh, time to go shopping."

'Cause we all know it's what lies beneath the gown that makes the gown, right? RIGHT! So, we went shopping to find the perfect "first time" suck you in, push you up and out, create curves undergarment.

A brief aside... I'm a lingerie junkie. If it sucks you in, pushes you up and out, creates curves and is made of lace, I WANT it. Lace and garters and underwire, OH MY.

Ummm...back to shopping.

Nothing too over-the-top.



UH... no.

Nothing too edgy.



UH... NO.

Slightly demure, lacy, and sexy.




Uh, YES!!!

Well, this isn't the exact garment, but it's close. Perfect first-time underneath secret.

When she tried it on, she bit her lower lip and said, "Wow."

And I said, "You go, girl."

My stylish-yet-slightly-masculine best friend had just felt the transforming power of lacy undergarments. Oh yeah!




So.... I got a call from the wedding after she had her nails done, and her hair done in an up-do, and had dressed for the wedding, and had taken the first wedding pictures.

Her: " Oh my GOD. I feel so beautiful! I look beautiful! Everyone says I look beautiful. Thank you for making me buy this lacy suck me in, push me up and out, create curves thing. Oh my GOD. I feel like... like ... like a sexy, beautiful woman."

And she is.

*******
Cost of gas for shopping trip: $35

Cost of lunch for shopping trip: $30

Price of lacy undergarment: $50

Hearing your best friend scream with delight because she feels sexy and beautiful: PRICELESS.


Here's to you, Babe!