Silk, Pearls, and Blue Jeans

What I Love About YOU

2010-07-12T23:07:00.005-05:00

What I Love About YOU:

Your smile
Your sparkling eyes
Your soft skin
Your amazing curls
Your laugh
Your ability to make ME laugh
The way you....well, you know
The way you always take care of me
Knowing that you love me too.

I love you. Thank you for being so wonderful to me and loving all my imperfections.

No one knows how much I love you, and many wouldn't understand if they did. That's just fine by me.

You know.

It's Spring!

2010-03-27T10:15:00.002-05:00

Ah, beautiful sunny sky, cool breeze, AHCHHOOOO, pollen everywhere. It must be spring.

Today's agenda:

1. Golf
2. Library
3. Dig in the Dirt
4. Go to the nursery and find things to put in the dirt.
5. Sit on patio and enjoy the view.
6. Grill something yummy for dinner.

Hope your day is spectacular.

Cheers!

Sometimes You Just Need to Sit Down and Cry

2010-03-14T21:56:00.003-05:00

I'm sick.
I'm trapped.
I feel very alone.
I think I'll just sit down and cry.

Here's a pretty picture for you to gaze upon since there's no good news from moi.

I really love this painting. Do you know who the painter is?

I'm Back

2009-05-10T11:33:00.003-05:00

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

2008-07-15T11:39:00.008-05:00

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

2008-07-11T23:27:00.003-05:00

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

2008-06-21T22:31:00.006-05:00

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

2008-06-03T19:11:00.004-05:00

"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

2008-05-26T21:35:00.005-05:00

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...

2008-05-25T08:54:00.008-05:00

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!

Fancy Feet

2008-05-23T15:21:00.004-05:00

I confess. My feet are incredibly dry and cracked. It's terrible. I use a pumice stone daily, moisturize them, sleep in socks with vaseline on my feet, etc., etc., etc. But nothing has ever really worked on them...until NOW!!! Ladies and Gents, meet my new best friend..

A friend suggested that I try this and WOW! This little device is the most incredible thing I've ever used, and believe me, I've used plenty of foot products. Now my feet are smooth, now my feet are soft, now I can wear stockings without worrying that I'll get a run in them before I get them up! I'z happy people. I'z very very happy.

Sandals, come to mamma!

A Little Motivation

2008-05-22T14:54:00.001-05:00

Saw this on Hipbones website, and thought it was quite good. At least it made me think about things.

Work Your Fingers to the Bone

2008-05-19T23:08:00.008-05:00

Hello, I'm Southern Femme, and I'm a workaholic.

There... I've said it. Restated - I like to work.

Is that so wrong?

I've made the decision to take three days off these week, and with the holiday next Monday, I will have been off work six days.

GASP!!!

I agreed to take a few days off, but not without stipulations.... and I will stick to these!

1. I will NOT sit around the house and wait for others to wake up while they sleep until noon.

2. I will NOT do housework the entire time I'm off work. I hired a housekeeper for that, YOU told her not come every week.

3. I will NOT take off work to do YOUR work. I've given you advice and plenty of suggestions to help you along your path. It's up to you to put them to work.

4. I will NOT deny the kids the opportunity to get out and enjoy the beautiful HOT (much too soon this year) weather just because you don't want to go outside. They deserve a chance to get to know the great outdoors.

5. More NOTs when I think of them.

Have a nice day. Y'all.

The Simple Things

2008-05-04T11:45:00.003-05:00

He crawls up into my lap and says,

"Why are you always so warm and cozy? Are mommies just made that way?"

Why, yes, we are.

Yet Again!

2008-04-27T20:25:00.002-05:00

Another start... join me if you will.

For the eighteen months that the kids and I were alone, one of my favorite things to do was sit out on the deck in the early morning or late afternoon and watch, listen to, and admire the many beautiful birds that visited our backyard. This was MY time - mommy time - I'm sure you know of what kind of time I write. I put up a hummingbird feeder outside the kitchen window and while I was out enjoying MY time, the hummingbirds would buzz past me towards the sugary treat that awaited them.

Since he's come back, I don't have that time anymore. I miss it.

He went away this weekend, and I decided that I would steal a moment or two out on the deck again. And.. I hung up two more hummingbird feeders. I love those speedy little backwards flying sugar addicts. There was an instance where I had two at once visiting the feeders. I'm determined to get some pictures of them, but they seem to know when I have my camera and when I don't.

Until I get my own shots, enjoy this one!

Cheers!

Through Different Eyes

2007-08-05T09:54:00.000-05:00

I had vowed to do back-to-school shopping. God, how I dreaded it. Shopping with a very mature (physically, emotionally, and mentally) pre-teen who is moving up to junior high this year and simply "MUST be more fashionable" is akin to having your teeth pulled out sans anesthesia. But I knew it must be done, so I laid out several conditions:

1. There would be no complaints about the current changes her body was going through and the difficulties we would have with finding clothes that would fit. Nor would there be complaints about walking so much, or the restrictions I have on what I deem is appropriate to wear in public. Yes, I believe that children should dress like children - modestly. I curse the designer that would create underwear for young girls made out of silver lame' material with a picture of a cat on the crotch with the slogan, "I'll a little pussycat." Yep, I saw that in a store.

2. This shopping trip was for all of us...i.e., there would be many stops.

3. We would go to P.F. Chang's for dinner. I really like the place and since we live in the middle of nowhere, a trip to the city should be rewarded!

So, off we went.

The shopping actually went well. We started with the young lady. Three shirts, in two stores in under 30 minutes. After unsuccessfully trying to find jeans that would still cover her ass when she bends over and growing frustrated in the process, we decided to save the hunt for bottoms for another day.

For the young one (my son), shopping is relatively easy. One store, four shirts (all of them with pictures of either dinosaurs, trucks, or insects on them), three pants, and two shorts in under 20 minutes. Now that's how I like to shop!!

As we wandered down the mall promenade we ducked into several specialty shoppes for accessories, and the coolest two-headed plastic dragon a could kid hope to find. Of course, he then HAD to have a knight on a horse to battle the dragon. I know. I'm easy. But it is really neat!

Finally, it was time for dinner. Thankfully, I had made reservations so our wait was minimal. We were seated and I glanced around. My children were the only kids in the place.

Then it hit me.

For all practical purposes, I'm a single parent.

Around us were older couples who knew what their partner would order, who understood each other's glances, and who could answer for each other if the waitress came while their partner had dashed off to the ladies room. You could see this intimate familiarity in their eyes and expressions.

Then there were the the first-daters. The push-up bras of the ladies, the stolen glances at exposed cleavage by the guys, and the hesitant smiles and awkwardness of the whole situation for both.

And then there were the young married couples dining out with other young married couples who had hired one sitter to watch all of the kids while their parents escaped for a few hours to enjoy good food, wine, and friendship.

But there were couples everywhere.

My children, of course, were oblivious to this. We had a great dinner, and seeing their faces light up when the waitress brought "The Chocolate Wall of China" for dessert was fabulous. They were perfectly comfortable in the restaurant setting because, well... I've taught them to be.

But suddenly I wasn't.

I wanted to be part of a couple. I wanted to be one of those who understood the other's glances, and raised eyebrows. I wanted to sit across from someone who knew to order dessert despite my protestations. Because, yes, I really wanted us to share it.

After twenty years it should already be that way.

Trust

2007-07-17T01:26:00.000-05:00

In the past I've written about having another "self" that none of the people who actually know you knows exists, and what they would think of you if they knew how you really and truly felt about certain issues. Would their opinion change about you? Would you lose them as a friend? Would they embrace your divergent ideas?

I suppose it comes down to trust.

Well, what if you befriend someone and after only knowing them for a short time, you open yourself up to them. What makes you trust this new friend more than someone who's known you for most of your life and has been with you through pain, pleasure, joy, and suffering? Does it speak well of the new friend and any less of the old ones? any less of yourself?

Or have you suddenly decided it's time you trust yourself? Not someone else. Yourself.

Trust. I'm happy I've decided to place some.

In myself. And you.

Yet Again

2007-07-01T22:36:00.000-05:00

I've decided to start writing again. Not sure why I feel compelled to, but I do. This time I will try not to fall into the habit of writing to entertain or writing for others. Instead, I'll try to write what I happen to be thinking at the time, and perhaps I'll toss in a few stories about growing up in the south.

Going on a short trip next week, but I'll be back here soon.

Would love for you to join me.

Secrets

2007-02-04T21:53:00.000-06:00

I was asked to post ten things about myself that I've never told anyone. Not really sure that I should. I rather like having secrets. But...

1. I'm a habitual weigher. I weigh myself at least 4 times a day.

2. While growing up, despite being "popular," I always felt extremely lonely.

3. I tell everyone that I never wonder who my biological parents are. The truth is...I do.

4. Sometimes I tell myself that my brother didn't really drown. That instead he's living somewhere far away and one day he'll come back home.

5. The first time I heard the word fuck spoken was from my very proper, conservative, Bible-thumping Grandmother's mouth when she was cursing my loving Grandfather for not taking the garbage out. She didn't know I was listening.

6. I've only been stoned three times. But I continually long for the feeling of it. I suppose it's escape that I crave.

7. In college, a good friend and I would sneak out and do some heavy-duty making out at the drive-in that showed skin flicks late at night. We were both seeing other people at the time. They never found out.

8. I stopped nursing my infant child not because my milk wouldn't come in, but because his sucking aroused me to the point of orgasm and I felt too ashamed about it.

9. Not a single day goes by that I don't think about tossing my whole career away and starting over in another field.

10. I still love him.

The Foreigner

2007-02-01T16:14:00.000-06:00

They sat on the floor playing cards and smoking. By one in the morning, the ceiling of smoke hung just a few feet above our heads and I no longer felt the need to feign indifference to it. It was hard to breathe.

I made tea and provided refreshments throughout the evening, but mostly I sat alone on the couch. An outsider. A foreigner. Every so often I was able to pick up a comment or two that included my name and knew to expect that any moment all heads would turn to glance in my direction. And when they did, I smiled. I always smile when they do that, and I always feel like a damn idiot.

Normally when I'm with them, they attempt to speak English with me. I certainly have tried to speak their language with them. But some members of the family speak one language, and others speak another, and over the years I've heard both of them used interchangeably so I'm clueless as to what words belong in which language. So, I unknowingly mix them up. It would be the equivalent of saying, "Bonjour, mon cherie. Wie geht es dir?" Except the languages are not french and german, and are much more closely related. They find this quite humorous. Most of the time I do as well. Except for the time that instead of asking someone if I could cook an egg for them, I asked them if they would like for me to lay an egg for them. Ugh.

But during this visit, relatives from the old country had come as well, and so I took a backseat to them. I understood that would happen. By now I understand traditions, and what expectations are imbedded in the culture. But it still doesn't make it any easier.

When the folks from the old country arrived earlier that evening, I stood to greet them. I performed the perfunctory greeting of three kisses on both cheeks, not because I had to, but because that greeting has become part of who I am as well when I’m with them.

The matriarch hugged me tightly, looked into my eyes and began speaking to the other members of the ensemble. I had not seen her in over ten years and I was prepared to be inspected. I understood most of what she said. I instinctively smiled and lowered my eyes.

"She colors her hair now. But it's still dark."

She felt my hair.

They like my dark hair. It provides a sense of belonging - an outward manifestation that there is a kinship.

"Her skin is still young. No lines around the eyes."

She held my face in her hands and ran her fingers around my eyes.

They like the porcelain skin and light colored eyes. It provides a certain exoticism to which they are drawn.

"She's gained weight."

She traced the outline of my body from my arms until her hands rested on my hips.

"Her hips made way for the children."

She gently slapped my ass.

I've never hidden my curves under a long flowing garment, and I won't - EVER. It's their culture, not mine. I dress like a woman. That annoys the hell out of them, but also intrigues them. They aren't accustomed to seeing a "family" member display her body in such a way.

I raised my eyes back to meet her gaze and we smiled sincere smiles and hugged once more. I've always liked this woman. I like her feisty spirit. I like her determination to survive and demand respect from women and men alike.

*****

Back to one a.m., the card game, and the smoke-filled room. As I sat there thinking of how many of these nights I've experienced over the years, several things became crystal clear.

They will never really understand who I am.
I will always be different.
I am an outsider.

I am a foreigner in my own home.

Snow Haiku

2007-02-01T16:00:00.000-06:00

Snow gently falling.
Full moon on blanket of white.
The view is stunning.