Monday, April 30, 2007

Momma Always Said...

Momma Always Said 'Smart Girls Know When To Play Dumb'

I signed a one year lease on an old, neglected house. The paint was completely peeled up. the yard was rockhard Georgia clay. Me & my 2 dogs shared the house with ferocious squirrels that would race & fight in the attic, knocking the losers into the walls.

I painted the trim, shutters & front door barn red. I ignored the profanities & cop lights that continuously buzzed around my next door neighbors' house. I tilled the yard & threw grass seed. I used my Singer to whip up patchwork curtains, made from scraps of old tattered scrubs. I built a parkpad.

'You'll never grow grass. This whole street has been dirt & rock for 20 years' said an elder in the hood.
'I don't care. I just like to dig in the dirt.'
'Women who live alone shouldn't have red doors. It's like leaving the light on, right?' asked the elder.
'I don't know but the light fixture doesn't work'
I fixed the light fixture & watched the grass grow in the wee hours of the night.

Three months into my 12 month lease, a real estate agent showed up at my door, lockbox in hand.
"I'm putting a lockbox on the door. The owner is selling & gave me a key."
"But Nothing! You're just a tenant! The owner says he's done a lot of work & wants to sell."
"Oh......Ok, but I have two who's ferocious. And I live alone. What if you or even worse a prospective buyer, gets bit by my dog? Does the owner have good insurance?"
"Ok, we'll show by appointments only then."
"Who will?"
Eyes roll..."Who will what? Show the house?"
Heavy sigh..."I will."
"Then why the need for a lockbox? You have a key right?"

Within a week, the phone rings. It's the real estate idiot. He has someone from Florida who wants to see the house ASAP. I tell him to come immediately. It's not a good time for the agent, he has a two o'clock appointment elsewhere.

'Well, send the buyer on over. I'll show it. I'd hate for you to loose your first prospect just because you don't have the time for him.'

The prospect came and stayed for about an hour. He loved the grass, loved the front door, the fake brick wall I had painted in the kitchen. I raved on about how great the location was & pointed out how local sales had been sky-high and that this house was a I'd love to buy it myself, but just couldn't afford it. He was renting a pay-by-the-week place until he could buy a house. I told him we could do a ten day close.

'Really, a ten day close? But what will you do?' asked the prospect.
'Well, I will move. It's no big deal.' and I beamed will peaceful assuredness.


He put in his offer from my living room sofa. Appointments were made to draw up the papers.

The next day the real estate idiot called.
10 days to close. I needed to be out in nine.
'No problem...what's in it for me?'
'What? Didn't you tell the buyer that you would move?'
'Yes & I will. But what's in it for me?'
'What do you mean?'
'Look, if I broke the lease agreement on you, I'd have to pay for the remaining 9 mos. I could refuse to pay & you could take me to court. Then I would have to pay the remaining 9 mos plus court costs. Time is of the essence, I believe, is the legal jargon on my lease. So you're breaking the lease & I just want to know what's in it for me?'
'Let me call you back'
An hour later the phone rings. The landlord has agreed to buy my lease out, but I have to be out in 9 days.
'I don't know, I'm really going to have a hard time finding a place on such short notice. That's a bigger problem than buying out the lease'

A huff & a puff...'Let me call you back.'

10 minutes later he calls again...
'OK, the buyer has agreed to give you thirty days to get your stuff out and the seller has agreed to buy your lease. Deal?'
Hmmm... 'Let me call you back' I said.

At about 10 pm I called him back.
I lied. I told him I had called my uncle. I told him that my uncle had told me to be suspicious of him. It was all so fast & this was a man who had wanted to put a lock box on a single womans' rental. I told him I had been advised that a landlord had no right to show a property until the final 30 days of a lease. He breathed hard into the phone. Finally I told him that I was an honest person & would not go back on my word, but I needed him to put dates & figures in writing. If he could do that & have it to me at my place of work, where a notary worked, by 9am then it was a deal. I like to waifer back & forth but if I had a legal obligation, he could rest assured that I would not flutter on this one. Otherwise, I was following my uncles advise.

The next morning he was waiting for me in the parking lot.
He chuckled, 'I made it real simple, so you could understand it yourself & not have to call your uncle.'
'Oh, Good. I hate to bother him'

DONE DEAL! On 3-30-2000, Skinny was to move out of the residence on Scott Drive & would receive a lump sum of xx$ for early termination of her lease by such&such dip-shit real estate company.

Days later, the phone rang. The buyer couldn't qualify. I could stay.
My reply? 'Time is of the essence. I'll be out & I expect my check as agreed upon.'
'You have only got a couple of weeks now. We can go month to month if you like.'
'No need. I'm buying a house & close in a few days. That will give another 10 days to get my stuff out. I expect my check on the 30th.'

Silly man.... just because I am a skinny little blonde does not mean I am not my mothers' daughter.

Monday, April 23, 2007



'I cannot go to school today,' Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
'I have the measles & the mumps.
A gash, a rash, and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry. I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chickenpox
ther's one more-that's seventeen. And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut, my eyes are blue-
It might
be the instamatic flue.
I cough and sneeze and gasp & choke I'm sure that my left leg is broke
My hip hurts when I move my chin
My belly-button is caving in
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained My 'pendix pains each time it rains
My nose is cold, my toes are numb
I have a sliver in the thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak, I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight
My temperature is one-o-eight
My brain is shrunk I cannot hear
There is a hole inside my ear
I have a hangnail and my heart is ---what?! What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is ... Saturday?! G'bye, I'm going out to play!

~Shel Silverstein

As a young kid, I was an avid reader. I loved to prop myself up on a tree limb so I could oversee the world around me or I'd coop myself in a closet to escape the world of four walls and all held within ... with some black & white of someone else's colorful world to read. I'd make a teepee out of my bedsheets and read well beyond the wee hours of the night, often not finding sleep until my father had arisen to fetch his morning paper.
In the summer of my third grade, I was given
lone time with my grandparents some 5 hours north of where my family lived. My grandmother indulged me at the general store allowing me to buy a good book or two. When she discovered that I had blazed through my books in no time, she told me to grab a book from her Harlequinn closet... where she kept the motherload of paperback fantasies to be traded with her fellow romance reader friends. The shelves were stacked with books running left to right, two and three rows deep. Shelf after shelf of them. The summer of 76 saw the beginning & end of my romance novel reading ways. It was a summer of love.

Nana and I spent our week-days lounging by the pool, readin
g our romance novels in between trips to the bakery, farmers' market & the butcher. On Fridays, we went to the laundromat & while the clothes were spun clean, we spun wild stories of the harlequin kind in our minds.

My a
unt was a school teacher who lived in Atlanta & while I was at Nana's for the summer, she came down to visit. Upon discovering my nose dug deep in some silly novel she dropped her jaw to the floor and asked me what I was reading. I told her it was a story about a girl whose mother had died & found herself to be the orphaned at the age of 18 because she had never known her dad. Upon her mother's death, she discovered that her father, who had died many years earlier had left her a mansion with lots of horses. She moved there and was falling in love with her dad's equestrian partner.

My Aunt went to the kitchen & I heard "Mother! You can't let her read those books! She's just a child!"

My g
randmother laughed..."Can you beleive how well she reads?! She can read an entire book in just a day or two. She's read almost all of the ones written by Violet Winspear...I am so proud of her."

"Mother! Those books are full of smut!"

"No more than our newspapers, magazines & television."

"Mother! They are filled with explicit details."

ot as explicit as the National Geographic! Now, calm down. A good fantasy or two never hurt anyone."

"Mother! She's too young... she'll develop nymphomania!"

"My Lord Child, there are worse things than that and at least she's reading! Now just calm down."

My mind raced...what was the problem? Why shouldn't a young girl read romance novels? What was so explicit about National Geographic? What was nyphomania?

Later I asked my Aunt what nymphomania was & she shot me the eye. "Well....?"

"It's a disease & you don't want it. It affects your mind" and like another page turned in my little romance novel, the subject was changed.

Months later, now in fourth grade, I found myself dreading school. I was sick of little Abby with her painted red nails & I was sick of calling time on the swingset. I was sick of the walk to school & that crazy dog who would latch hold of my pants leg and not let go. I was just sick of school. Hmmm....

I couldn't tell my mother that I was sick of such things and honestly expect to be allowed to skip school for the day. No. Those sicknesses would never work. I needed to be sick, seriously sick to be allowed to stay home. Then it hit me...

"Mom I can't go to school today. I'm sick... really sick"

"Well, you don't look sick."

"I'm really sick Mom! It's not the kind of sickness you can see."

"Really? Well, what kind of sickness is that?"

"I think I have nymphomania. It's a disease of the mind."

Momma said 'Just Give Me Peace'

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Faces of Me

The many faces of me...change with time.
Skinny, Little Blonde.


When I was a little girl, I had some adults tell me that I reminded them of a girl called 'Twiggy.'
I also, had a lot of kids that called me a Tom-Boy.
In sixth grade, I had a boy call me 'white trash' because I wore my brothers' clothes.
At another school, in another state, I had a group a girls call me a 'prep' because I was a cheer-leader for 4 mos.
In high school, I had a boy tell me I looked like a 'beach-bunny.'
Same year, another school in yet another state, I was called a 'freak.'
In college, I was told that I looked like a 'librarian'
I was also told that I danced like an 'old hippy.'

I have been told that I look like Goldie Hawn, Olive Oyl & Uma Thurman.
I have been told I look homely & sick.
And I have been told I look natural & happy.
I have been told that I come off as aloof, blunt and a 'do-it-yourselfer.'
First impressions & misconceptions...
One of my best friends initially thought I must be a slut because I hung out with a bunch of guys... plus I was skinny and a blonde.
I have had strangers try to turn me into a victim of their violence because they perceived me to be 'weak.'
I have had superiors try to hold me back because they saw me as 'flighty.'
I have had authority figures stalk me because they perceive me to be 'bad & up to no good.'
I have had mechanics & others try to rake me across the coals financially because they perceived me as 'dumb'
I have had people confide in me the darkest secrets of their souls upon meeting me because they perceived me to be 'open.'
I'm all of these, but in reality, not as they it.

I, like anyone reading this, have been labeled 1001 things.
perceptions, misconceptions & reflections.
We all get labeled.

Our labels change with time, circumstance, place & company. Some of these perceptions are misconceptions and some are reflections. Some are reflections of ourselves & some are reflections of those around us.

In sixth grade, when that boy called me 'white trash' I wanted to re-invent myself. I had been at the school for over a year, I was considered a Tom-Boy and I got into a lot of fights. I wasn't real happy.

When we moved to another state, I re-invented myself, kind of. I promised myself I would not fight and I would wear clothes that were more 'girly.' I promptly tried out for cheer-leading and although I didn't find my niche in life, I did discover that with a change and a choice... the perceptions of me from the world around me could change. Maybe not in entirety, but some.

I learned that how people perceive you, dictates how they treat you. I learned that how people treat you affects how you perceive the world. I learned that I am still me no matter where I go.

I have learned that when I feel sexy, I look sexy.
I have learned that when I feel determined, I seem empowered.
But I have also learned that people come into our worlds carrying their own personal stereotypes and that their first impressions of you can be dictated by that & not at all by you. only time, exposure & experience can whittle that away. And I know that it can be whittled down...I have done it.

I believe in the color-wheel theory.
I believe that I embody all colors of the rainbow and all the colors in betw
I believ
e you do, too.
I believe that time and circumstances, as well as personal choice or immediate need, may dictate what colors you may see in me & what colors I am allowing to shine through.
I believe some people are color-blind and for all the reds and yellows I emit, they can only see blacks and blues.
I believe that 99% of communication is interpretation and that communication begins before we even speak.
I believe that on some levels, I pick & choose what colors come flying out of me.
Sometimes I hold colors back, usually out of fear & insecurity, self-preservation and sometimes even, self-promotion.
Some colors, I hold close to my heart & share only with those closest to me.
Some colo
rs just fly.
I have learned that escapism, won't let me escape the fibers of color that form the blanket that cover personal & spiritual skin stay with me where-ever I go. Pills, alcohol, depressive sleep won't take that away. But I have learned that a choice & a change can change the vibrancy of these colors and how clearly I can see myself, as well, as how clearly others can perceive me.

This post was written for someone whose color-wheels are spinning....someone who's allowing the outside world to define their colors, as opposed to allowing their inner-colors shine out & bounce back in a prism effect...someone who feels like their inner-colors are bouncing so fast and hard within themselves that they might actually fear what will happen when these colors come out for the world to see... someone who see's life as being black & white when it's really full-color... someone who wants and needs to make a choice and a change.

I look at you and I see a color-wheel spinning...I see all kinds of colors in flits & flurries bouncing around in your black & white world. I hear you screaming that you want to make a change & a choice and I understand how it's sometimes difficult to pull fresh colors to the surface when all around you seems so the outside world is sucking up all of your colors, some of which are fresh & new for you, and just painting you black. I understand how sometimes the world defines who we are but I believe we can change those perceptions on some levels. I believe in you and all of your colors. I believe that when we deprive the world of all of our colors, we are depriving ourselves & in essence, living a lie. I believe those colors are busting to come loose.

I believe there is a lover out there waiting to see your shades of red and an employer just waiting to see your greens. There's a friend waiting to see your yellows and a family member waiting to see your rainbow. Likewise, I believe there are those waiting to see all your shades of black, knowing that black will consume all colors.

Through-out this entire post I have made statements, I have shared experiences and convictions of my own... But now, I'd like to ask a question and make a proposition... What's holding you back? Where's the fear?

Make a list, be honest& be true.
I propose that if you can define what is holding you back...
then you can work on resolution to them.
I believe that in those resolutions you will start to let your colors fly...

Thursday, April 12, 2007

On Running Away

Mom & me, on running away....
"I'm Running Away!"
"Well, good won't make it far."
"Yes, I will, too!"
"I don't think don't even have a stick."
"A stick?"
"Yep, a stick & you don't have a bandana either. You won't make it far at all."
"When little kids run away, they're called hobo's & they all have a stick they carry over their shoulder with all their worldly belongings tied up in a bandana, hanging from the end. Haven't you seen Orphan Annie?"
"I don't have any belongings. I don't need a stick"
"You have some clothes that you'll need to take."
"I don't want them."
"You'll need to take some food."
I grabbed a napkin & wrapped it around a very large dill pickle and then, I hit the brick road, until I found myself walking in circles on a loop around road carrying a half eaten pickle...undecided if I should save it, chunk it, or just keep on eating it.

Kimbies & me, on running away...

"What are you doing out? It's after dark?!"
"I'm allowed to stay out after dark."
"No, you're not."
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not. Where have you been?"
"Yes, I am. I've been over at Mere's."
"'re gonna be in trouble."
"No, I'm not. Mom sent me to look for you."
"What? Why?"
"She said you ran away again."
"Well, then you're gonna be in trouble for going to Mere's"
"No, I won't. Really!"
"Why not?"
"Because if you really run-away, she'll never know I went to Mere's and if you come home, you'll be in more trouble for running away than I will be for going over there."
Kim lazily did figure 8's with her bike around me until we saw Dad on foot, coming to get us both.

Nana & me, on running away...
"Baby, come here & tell your Nana what you want for Christmas."
"I want a suitcase"
"A suitcase?"
"Yes and one that's not too big. I need to be able to carry it myself."
"Are you planning on taking a trip?"
"Yes Ma'am."
"So, where are you going?"
"Maybe I can come see you?"
Nana gave me a small pink suitcase that I would later pack with my swimsuit, my baby doll ripped of all her hair, some hot wheels & a supply of pickles wrapped in napkins.

Mom & Dad, overheard by me, on running away...
"It's pouring down rain, you have to go find her."
"Suzanne, she'll be back."
~Crash of thunder~
"It's lightning & thundering. She's been gone for hours now! She'll get struck by lightening"
"G--Damnit, Suzanne. She'll be back."
"It's dark ...she's been gone too long this time."
"She'll be fine. She'll come back. Now, calm down!"
Mom's gutteral sobs brought me out of the closet, where I had been hiding in with my book since it was raining so bad.

Running away. Out of 5 kids, I was the one who was forever running away.

I wanted the hallowed out hole in the Big Old Oak tree to be my cocoon. I wanted the long-armed branch that flatly spread across the street to be my bed when it was dry. I wanted the dirty earth that grew no grass under the draping leaves of the banana tree to my shady spot and sleeping space when it rained. I wanted the muddy waters under the old wooden dock to be my kitchen. I wanted the seaweed that grew 3 inches thick to be my washrag & soap & the lappy waters of the lake to be my bathtub. I wanted the fallen elephant ears to be my fan, my seat on the dewing grass, my umbrella on rainy days or even a blanket on windy days. I wanted the rocks , nuts & seashells to be my pens and pencils. I wanted the concrete sidewalk to be my sketchpad. I wanted the drainpipes that ran under the roads & down to the lake to be my private thoroughfare.

I wanted a world where one could sit in silence & feel peace.

I wanted a world without the constant drone of a TV in the background. I wanted a world where alcohol didn't smell bad on people's breath & didn't make nice people mean. I wanted a world where music was made from a symphony of sounds that involved no instruments, but birds, crickets, leaves, squirrels & water. I wanted a world where I could stay up all night, as long as the moon was bright. I wanted a world where Santa didn't need to worry about finding a fireplace. I wanted a world where I could be kissed by the sun and showered by the rains. I wanted a world where hospitals, bumper cars & leaky roofs didn't exist and a buggy borrowed from Winn-Dixie was just fine. I wanted a world where the bugs were friendly little lady bugs & dragonflies & the yucky bugs, roaches & such, were left to the world they the house. I wanted a world where getting something sweet to eat simply meant plucking an orange from the tree & something substantial meant pulling a fish in with my scavenged bamboo pole. I wanted a world where enemies were your friends & they didn't remain enemies long. A world where war was fought by throwing the rotten oranges at one another. A world where the freshly mowed grass left rows of cut grass that could be gathered to build the softest of beds. I wanted a world where make-up was a smooshed berry smeared on my cheeks and perfume was a fresh lemon rubbed onto my wrists. I wanted a world where having a fur coat meant having a dog to cuddle up to. I wanted a world where all fires were controlled. I just wanted peace.

I still do, but I seem to just run in circles...but without the brick road, the loop around road, the little pink suitcase, the dill pickles & lightning storms.

*I started this post on Thursday April 12 & put it on pause when I saw that my ever-so-kinetically-connected sister Singleton had written a beautiful post titled 'When I run away...' LoL! I love that post, I love that we are so connected, even across the miles. And if she ever does run away, I think I'll meet her there! Photos compliments of the WWW.

Moons,Stars & Paper Challenge

Vicci prompted a photo challenge across blogger... post an old photo & share a memory. If you are reading this then you,too , are challenged :) Obviously it was a pretty big challenge for me because I have posted this pic before...

This is one of the only full family pictures of my youth that I have. Actually, my parents have it ... matted & framed & hanging in their home. I took a picture of it with my digital camera a year or so ago & twalla! I now have the picture too! :)

I love this picture because it takes me back to a time when wars were fought in the yard with oranges fallen from the trees and afternoon thunderstorms always led to a great adventure.

I love everything in the picture...the people & the painting behind them, the arched bookcase & the sideburns on my dad, the poodle named Buttons & the smirk on Curt's face, the creepy old lantern & Singleton's bohemian dress, Kimbies plaid elephant pants & the old footed sofa,Chanty sucking on his thumb & Mom laughing with her hair in a bun & even the funny orange spot over the vent... I love it all!

Sunday, April 08, 2007

A Liar & a Thief

I am such a liar...and a thief. Actually, I am a very honest person...often times, to the point of being considered 'abrupt,' 'blunt,' 'aloof,' and/or 'callous.'

But have I ever lied? Stolen? Oh yeah! I have and then stood valiantly behind my lies, even when I knew that I was wrong...

Suzanne lived with her professional mother & alcoholic father in a traditional ranch-style home and had a swimming pool out back. The summer between 9th & 10th grade often found Suzanne & I lounging in her swimming pool. Frequently other friends, both guys & gals, would join us. Her father didn't work, as alcoholism had killed all of his short-lived careers. He would 'watch' us for Suzanne's mother. Sometimes his 'watching' danced on the lines of perversion, which embarrassed & angered Suzanne & stunned the rest of us.

Her mother seemed to live her life flitting between denial & determination. If Suzanne ever confronted her mother on some of her father's unwelcomed comments and implications, she often fanned her away... teen-agers are so melo-dramatic. When Suzanne bold-faced told her that he was drunk, she agreed. She told us he was 'sick.' She told us not to pay any attention to him & should he pester us that we should tell him to leave us alone...that he meant no harm.

At one of Suzanne's slumber parties, he tried to join in on the fun out by the pool. He did something inappropriate. We all pulled out of the water & cooped ourselves up in Suzannes' room. When a pillow fight ensued, he came barging in... not to tell us to be quiet, but to join us. We literally had to push this drunk, hicupping, giggling, stinky old man out of the room.

So there's my backdrop & my validation to the LIE that eventually flew out of my mouth so quick that it just had to be true.

Suzanne & I had been hanging out around her pool one summer day. Her mother was at work & her father was out & about.

We were talking about the area she lived in. Rumor had it that the little dirt road up the street led to an old distillery for white-lightening. Supposedly, it was up and working. Generations after prohibition had ended, some of the best moon-shine in those parts were right down that single lane dirt road tucked in between the trees.

We wondered if her father went there for his fixes. Maybe he was there now. We wished he'd come home. Suzanne & I were bored & fidgety with the long, summer days. We wanted to walk to a friends, but knew if her Mother came home & we weren't there, Suzanne would be in trouble.

He came home, her father ...nearly crashing through the garage door. He staggered in and became one with the sofa. Within 2-3 minutes of his arrival home, he was out. Suzanne tried to awaken him to ask him if we could walk down to some friends house. No cigar! This man was out.

She begged him to wake up, to give us his approval to walk down the road to our friends, to just wake up! There was not enough time left in the day to walk all the way over to our friends & back before her mother returned...we needed him to wake up & say ok!

She plucked the keys out of his pocket & yelled at him...'Dad, if you don't wake up & let us go down the street...we're gonna take your truck!'

I laughed...'WTF Suzanne? We can't take his truck to Mark's! Mark's mom will tell on us!'
I think Suzanne was seeing sideways when she cocked her head up at me from her crouched down position beside the couch that had absorbed her father.

She didn't say another word, but stormed out the side door. I quickly followed. 'Suzanne! Marks mom is home...she will tell!'

"Get In! We are not going to Marks'!'

Her Dad had an old pick-up truck. Other than having the ashtray polluted with cigarette butts, the truck was immaculate... not what I was expecting. We jumped in...Suzanne in the drivers position & me, by her side.

The gear shifter was on the steering column. We chugged & lurched two or three times in reverse before we made it safely out of the drive way. And we headed in the direction of Marks.


Suddenly we're bouncing down a narrow path in the woods with two deep ravines for our tires. Aha! We're on our way to the mysterious rumored distillery. We bounce along & before you know it her anger and my shock turned into the giddy laughter of two 14 year old girls.

It was so wooded and the trail narrowed in around us. Tree limbs were scraping the sides & the top of the truck. We slowed down. Eventually I could see something like a light at the end of the tunnel.

The woods opened up ahead of us, apparently only on the right side. I said 'Oh Gawd it turn out to be a damn pot field.' If only we were that lucky...Suzanne laughed & sped up, heading towards the light.

The feild was indeed to our right and so was an old slightly delapitated house with a rusty tin roof and a broad front porch. KA-BOOM! So loud ... it rattled me.
'Suzanne! There's an old lady on that porch!'

Suzanne spun the truck in a one-eighty, dried grass from the summers heat threw dust into the air, disorienting our vision momentarily. Suzanne's face was like that of a ghost as she screamed 'ShotGuuuuunnnn!'

We flew back down that dirt-road, bouncing further up into the tree limbs & surely skipping some of the dips in the road completely. We couldn't get to end of that dirt road quick enough and when we did, ... it was suddenly too quick.

We narrowly missed hitting a passing mail truck, jumped the curb & careened into the yard across the roadway from the entrance to the dirt road. There, we took out several shrubs and a small tree & then Suzanne regained control of the truck.

With a deep sigh, we went back to Suzanne's house & jumped out. We walked around the truck to inspect damage done. Yep. Damage done.

Paint with long lines of to-be rust carved into it. Front bumper wretched downwards. Various pieces of vegetation wrapped up in the wheel wells and one huge (as big as me) piece of vegetation weaved into the front passengers side, somewhere between the crumpled bumper and the crammed wheel well.

Suzanne started pulling at the greenery & I quickly joined her. With one leg propped up on the slanted bumper for leverage, I began tugging and pulling on that huge branch & left Suzanne to dig remnants out of the wheel wells. We worked quickly & silently.

'What the hell are you doing?'
Our silence was broken.
We were so wrapped up in what we were doing that we never heard Suzanne's mother pull up. We never even heard her walk up.
Suzanne met her question with silence.
I looked at Suzanne. She was almost as white as she had been when she had yelled 'ShotGun!'
Her Mom turned her head to me...

'Pulling branches out of the truck.' I said, stating the obvious

'What happened?!'

'We don't know.'
We don't know?
We don't know. It flew out of my lips quicker than a child could spit liver.

Turning towards Suzanne, her Mothers incredulated expression had conviction like I had never seen in the woman before. She said

"Suzanne, where's your father?"

Suzanne wimpered until she was interupted ...'Inside Mom, he's passed out. We couldn't wake him up. I tried to wake him up. I tried real hard. He...'

'Suzanne! Paige! Leave
that truck alone & stay right here until I say it's OK!'

OK. We stayed right there.

Eventually, she came back out. 'Paige, can Suzanne spend the night with you tonight?'
'Yes Ma'am'

Suzanne & I, still in our swimsuits and Sunbritches got into her car.
She spent two nights with me.
Her Dad spent the next month and a half in a full time detox facility.

Unless my co-hort has confessed, he still beleives he wrecked that truck...
It was the last in a years long series of utterly drunken black-outs.
So, do you beleive my story or am I just big fat liar? ;)

Friday, April 06, 2007

The Great Baron Ectar

He was the self-proclaimed Professor of All that is Unnecessary, but his life and his words prove that he was a professor of all that is necessary... loving, learning, coping, trusting, trying, beleiving, nurturing, laughing and more.

Baron Ectar.
44 years old.
At peace with his spiritual room.

Prayers & warm wishes of unconditional love & healing to his family.

Tears of thankfullness to you Baron, for touching me in the many ways that you did. Your words have always made an impact on me & will only continue to do so, perhaps in ways unimaginable and unintended.
Always an angel, now he has wings...

Monday, April 02, 2007

Magpie Fairies Start Very Young

Nope ... it's not the double-mint twins. It's the face of love... before and after and forever-ever, ever

Let Love Grow!

'Hair' is the skinny on giving your own Locks of Love!

Sunday, April 01, 2007

April Showers bring May Flowers

Happy April Fools Day
Truth or Legend?

  • There is a new Life is Beautiful email which ontains a computer-crashing virus. If you open this email a screen will flash up on your computer that says 'Your Life is No Longer Beautiful' before your entire systems crashes. (Legend)
  • Coca-cola once recalled an advertisement because of the illicit content(True)
  • Doctors suggest an earnest cough if having a heart attack. It could save your life (Legend)
  • Someone who has 'dosed' LSD 7 times or more is legally insane (Legend)
  • The consomption of Poppy Seeds on bagels and rolls can cause the consumer to fail a drug test (True)
  • Gov. George Bush of Texas declared June 10, 2000 'Jesus Day.' (True)
How many did you get right?
Highlight to see answers.
There are so many...check out snopes to see if any legends you know of are Fact or Fiction. In the meantime, Happy Aprils Fool's Day!