Friday, October 05, 2012

If Tomorrow Never Comes…

I’ve always had an affinity for those words by Garth Brooks…

If tomorrow never comes, will she show how much I loved her
Did I try in every way to show her every day                 
That’s she’s my only one
And If my time on earth were through
And she must face this world without me
Is the love I gave her in the past
Gonna be enough to last
If tomorrow never comes

This morning as I opened the door to leave for work the doorbell rang. My neighbor Gary stood their looking lost and gray and the words he spoke didn’t make any sense to me.

“Hey, Calista I hate to do this, but I didn’t want you to find out somewhere else, I, Renee’s gone.”

I was fairly confused, certain I wasn’t making sense of the words he spoke. So I so eloquently said,

“What, no way, Oh mi God. What happened?”  At this point I’m certain I didn’t hear the name right, but this was Gary and he suddenly was not okay, was not holding it together and could make less sense of life that this moment than I.

Yesterday morning Gary had gotten up before 6 and Renee usually followed not long after.  When she didn’t come out of the bedroom, Gary told the dogs, “Let’s go wake up, Mom.”

But, mom never woke up. 

My dear Renee, you will be so missed, the lives you have touched with your laughter and friendship will feel forever the hole of your loss. My tears fall in sorrow and loss - my prayers and thoughts fly with your soul. Thank you for having touched mine, Roger's, and Ben's lives. Be Peace my dear friend, be peace.

I am bereft, she was a lovely person who I never knew well enough, who a always enjoyed, who always was laughing, joyous, and giving.  She was a great neighbor, she was a lovely friend.

Cause I've lost loved ones in my life 
Who never knew how much I loved them
Now I live with the regret
That my true feelings for them were never revealed

I never what that regret to be mine, and yet, Renee is gone and I didn't take the opportunities that life allotted me with this person who offered so much of herself. Renee’s is only the most recent passing in this summer of loss.  In August my Aunt Mabel died of a multitude of illnesses that include – renal failure, kidney disease, and dementia.  Her passing was expected, a blessing, and I had long ago let her know what she meant to me and my life and how she had touched me and made me a better person.

Earlier this summer Marti Martin died.  It wasn’t unforeseen, she’d been battling an extremely nasty form of cancer, Marti had been one of those neighbors that you want to keep forever.  She and her husband, Sweetwater, were active in the tribe, and had held drumming in their backyard after powwows (I would listen to the drumming and singing while gardening a few yards down – it was so peaceful.  Marti died with dignity on August 14th finally crossed over to her husband Sweetwater, and leaving her 13 year old son behind. 

A week to the day my Aunt Freda passed.  She was almost 90 and until a year ago a very active woman. She led a very active life, survived the loss of her husband, a daughter and her son – and still lived a life of joy.  Then she broke her hip… and suffered a heart attack.  She was an inspiration.

  A week (seriously you can’t make this stuff up) my cousin Janice died.  Now truth be known, Janice is one of my older cousins, lived in Ohio and I’d not seen her in 40 years.  But still… they are dropping like flies.

Doubt that?  Natalie’s mother died the same day.  Then I’m driving to work and I see on the local Napa Store that Ernie Land’s memorial will be held at the Abby’s Pizza Parlour on September 15th.  I’d not seen Ernie in several months, despite working on the same street – isn’t that a sad comment?  Ernie had passed back in JUNE – where the hell have I been?

Then Ginger Taylor passed.  This is a woman I knew through out my childhood, she and her kids Valerie (whom I still play words with friend with) and Michael (my childhood husband) threw me a sixteenth birthday party.  Ginger was the neighbor who was beautiful, talented artist, a fabulous green thumb and hid her secrets in a closet.  I wanted to grow up to be just like Ginger Taylor.  She died two weeks ago.

I have lived my adult life knowing that tomorrow is not a given.  I have lived my adult life preaching to everyone to not let a moment go by when you can let someone know what they have meant to them, to their life, that they have had a hand in helping them become the person they are today.

So I made a promise to myself
To say each day how much she means to me
And avoid that circumstand
Where there’s no second chance to tell her how I feel.  Garth Brooks / Kent Blazy

In the words of John Edward – take the time to communicate – appreciate – and validate the people you love in your life. And please don’t wait – because tomorrow isn’t a given.

Sith,
Cele

Saturday, June 02, 2012

Talk Thursday: Me, Myself and I er… I mean Introduce myself – Ego, Id – Super Ego

Ego - the “I” or self of any person; a person as thinking, feeling, and willing,

Who am I? Darn good question and when someone figures it out, please let me know.  Who am I?  Really, I’m not sure.  I was taught to step up, answer the call, I guess in some respects I am the default or reluctant leader.  I don’t want to be the leader, but yeah, it seems to be where I land.  Responsibilities are taken, because someone has to and I’m the idiot who is ever trying to fill the breach. Sadly it often finds me treading water searching for a sandy foothold and taken all the blame. 

Why do I do that? At heart I am lazy, lust for rainy days next to a warm fire with a book in my hands… usually if I have a book in my hands it means I picked it up to dust… or move it to another place.  But choosing to do something because it needs to be done isn’t the mark of a lazy person.  So now I’m an enigma. Family members are not shocked.

Id - primitive instincts and energies underlying all psychic activity

Sadly oftimes I react and then think.  Which sometimes works well at work. And then I get over loaded by all the things I take on and I become something else.  I become resentful at the lack of understanding, I become resentful at the lack of help.  I regret not being smarter.

And let me just say this, being a pacifist I will state boldly, “Do not fuck with my family and my friends.”  Did I mention I’m fairly non violent, but cuss well.

Super-ego -  that part of the unconscious mind that acts as a conscience

Conflict is not my forte. That is not to say I don’t enjoy a good hearted, healthy debate, but I am a peaceful person. I do not like mal intent, mean heartedness, and ire. If I see the writing on the wall, I will not beat my head against said wall, but instead shut my mouth.  And for that I was recently asked why I choose to be a victim?  I don’t choose to be a victim but I recognize when arguing is futile, when saying what I think, feel, and believe will only lead to more strife with no conclusion – no compromise – no resolve.  I am not stupid.

I am a peacemaker. I am forever on the side of the underdog, unless they are really annoying or hateful. I am patient, I am love, I am true, I am evolving, I try to always be as honest as I can be.  Ergo, let me get this out of the way.  I once wore a size eight (I was almost passing out skinny) now I am just fat.

Super-ego -  that part of the unconscious mind that acts as a conscience

My lines are blurred or Freud had no clue. I do not have a father fixation (he was my hero, but had clay feet) none of my husbands are/were like my dad.  We Ducky is hardworking, salt of the earth – the resemblance stops there. I adore my mother – despite her being real life clueless (and a republican). I am responsible for my own actions, decisions, and intents.  So nee neer nee neener Mr. Freud.  My lines are blurred.  And I am still figuring out what I am going to be when I grow up.

Sith,
Cele

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Talk Thursday: Jealousy (subtitled: I Do Not)


This is an emotion or lack of character I don’t get.  What I have I worked hard for, what you have you wanted and worked for yourself, but wanting what someone else has is just a lacking inside.

Double Ex and I split on good grounds. And then he got married. No, problem I did too.  Double Ex walked out on me, walked out on Psam, and walked out on our life.  Which apparently is what he wanted at one time and then didn’t.  Okay, I get that. We remained friends until his wife felt threatened. And then he did something so thoughtlessly cruel. That I can’t take. That I can’t forgive.  Fuck me over, make me a fool but don’t fuck over my kid, literally hand her what she wants and then take it away forever.  That is unforgivable on this plane of existence.

Let me reiterate, I am not jealous. I do not want what is not mine. I do not aspire, dream, or scheme for a life and it’s trappings that are not mine. I do not want to be in the spotlight – and yes I see the irony in that, but also know that people who know my name have no clue who I am.  Sincerely.  The guy who runs the casino in my town will call the station and ask me how I know so much trivia (I do a trivia section during Harley’s show that is somewhat popular) but this same guy will totally ignore or even look through me when we run into each other in a public place. He knows my name, he might even know my voice, but he doesn’t have a clue what I look like.  It works very well for me.  I’ve had my stalker in life, thank you very much, one stalker is enough for several life times.

More than once I have walked into a business to be hailed by my name (hey, I’ve lived here for the better part of 40 years – I have friends) and have someone pop their head up from behind a sales rack and say “Flockhart?”  Who does that?  Since the first time I have replied, “Really?  Do I look like I need to eat a sandwich.”  Hey she’s that skinny, and my butt is that big.  I am not jealous, she’s married to Harrison Ford (who is a hottie in my book) they are married right? I’m married to Ducky Stand On The Grass and he rocks my world. Alls good.  She can’t walk out of her house without being followed by paparazzi, I can go unfettered anywhere I darn well want.  That is freedom.

Hey, she might even be jealous of our freedom and anonymity. If you were her, wouldn’t you be?

Okay, she does have a bikini body, and drats! I miss my bikini body.
Sith,

Cele

Friday, May 04, 2012

Talk Thursday: Sobriety

Too much alcohol and I stick my head in the freezer.  Yes, I know why.  Does it make sense to anyone else?  Probably not, but still twenty plus years later I remember why.  I get happy, I get loud, I laugh, and then I puke for the next three days.  Alcohol and Cele do not mix well.  Ergo, I’ve been truly drunk a whole three times in my life… and that is precisely two hangovers too many. I’m not sure if it is because three is my magic number on the learning curve or because my ex-husband thought he’d be so helpful with my hangover (yes, the night after I kept sticking my head in the freezer… yes, at a party where his ENTIRE store was celebrating a house warming [warm being a very operative word])… Double X decided he’d go get me a chocolate milk shake. 

Mean son of a bitch.  It sounded so soothing, it wasn’t.  I’m such a gullible green horn.
 
I’ve not been drunk since.  The addictive gene runs in my family. My father’s dad was a nasty, nasty drunk, legend has it he once beat a mule to death. Several of my dad’s siblings were alcoholic – my father refused to go there, I pretty much followed his suite.  My mother’s mom as addicted not once, but twice to codeine, and what began with an ounce of brandy a night in between her bouts of codeine addiction became a problem in of itself. The addiction gene runs deep in my family.

To illustrate better my not too tall fascination with alcohol -  I have had two buckets of margaritas (I do like margaritas) in my freezer.  In, what? The last fifteen years.  I bought the last one three years ago, I’ve yet to have one margarita out of it.  Need more.  I bought a FABULOUS case of Cranberry Wine from Old Coyote Winery. Awesome, expensive (for me) amazing stuff – I gave most of it away… as gifts. I think I have two bottles left… three years later.

And Kalhua Cali? Well it is my annual Christmas gift that I make.  I use it for cough syrup.  Hey, it’s really good.

Sith,
Cele

Wednesday, May 02, 2012

Last Week's Talk Thursday: Expectations, Reality, Evolution

We are raised with expectations, those of our parents, our teachers, those of our boy  or girl friend, friends, and if you had a dog, his expectations of you too.  We strive, we learn, we fall and get back up, and we dream.  I have gone on ad nauseam about the white knight fairytale that most girls in my age group and possibly before were raised to believe. Gosh it’s your lucky day, I’m not knowingly going there.

When I was a teen and knew everything, I so very much wanted to be a professional dancer…..or a marine biologist.  The expectations I set for myself were full of blinders that didn’t allow me to realize at that point that there is 1) a need for talent, and 2) or eight years of college and Zoology. My reality was that my grades were no-where near the stellar GPA decimal’d (that is totally a real word) numbers required for the much needed scholarships to extend my education.  My counselors never talked to me about it (and take my word for it, I saw my counselors frequently), my parents never talked to me about scholarships and students loans (the reality is in 1973 when we moved to Oregon my parents had $36 left over after bills our first month there – my going to college was probably a fear for them.)  My expectations were blue sky and mindless in truth.

My reality at that age was that I fell in love, had a baby and chose being a mom over chasing elusive butterflies.  I have no regrets.  What have I missed? Not a damn thing. I have been to Europe, twice. I have enjoyed a series of hobbies, sports, and men. I have watched a wonderful daughter turn into a beautiful woman and mother. I have made friends with my parents, learn to see the blessings and gifts that they gave me.   I have tattoos, multi pierced ears, broken my both foot and butt, reveled at the beautiful color of my eyes, and cried over the lumpy cottage cheese that makes up my thighs.  It is what it is.

I am better for the trials and tribulations that lay both behind me and ahead.  I have evolved through the teachings of those who have touched my life.  I have morphed  through the laughter and tears, the joys and pains, the crisis and glories – every heartbeat, breathe, and step has lead me to this moment, to the person I am, and the person I will soon become. I have absorbed the best in essence of those who touch my soul.  I am blessed.

The dreams I once had lay dust at the feet of what my life has been, because the reality is… dreams are just that and we grow to embrace what life and circumstance hands us, and while some will just choose to survive, I choose to thrive beyond.

Sith,
Cele

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Colors of Spring

 


Don had a delightful post of spring pictures from his yard.  I love Palasso Pentossi (commonly referred to as Don and Scott's house) it's a place of peace, light and water.
 
What I missed from his post was a picture of the wonderful Morning Glories he USE to grow. Beautiful, but apparently a little too prolific. I could never get the seeds to germinate. I think Psam finally went and bought seeds                                      

The colors of spring are the light and greens of my hostas and ferns.  And the pretty little forget-me-not type flowers.
The greens of my Akiba vine dotted with it's small maroon flowers (it has never developed fruit, but boy it grows and grows and grows.)


My favorite orange tulips in the mids of Dutch Iris greens.  The purple buds of lilacs and fushia of the cyclamens on my deck.  I love the colors of spring.

Sith,
Cele

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Talk Thursday: Ten Weird Things About Me – Redux

A great topic popped into my head on Sunday when I was doing my taxes. But I was doing my taxes so I didn’t take the time to write it down. I forgot what it was. So all week long I thought, became frustrated, thought a wee bit more, had a migraine… or three this week (really three migraines, what’s that all about), then I panicked a bit. Voila’ I will do a meme redux. How did I know that not everyone knew what a meme was? I love a good meme, some are dumb, but many are insightful.

So here are ten weird things about me – Weird is as Weird does.

1) My favorite color is more a combination of colors. I despise the color orange, you know like Oregon State / Beaver National - it in your face ORANGE. Yeah that orange, but I love cinnamon or vesuvius (it’s a color by Landrover – yeah the vehicle) or there is this ombre’d yarn that goes from this color to cinnamon to this amazing brick color – love it. But the combination I love the most is purple and green – I always anticipate the Rhody Parade so that I can get purple and green throw beads for my truck’s rear view window.

2) I have this bizarre memory. Usually if I read something three times, say it three times, whatever three times, I will remember it. Not necessarily verbatim, but I will remember it. So what does this mean? A lot of weird things…
A) It makes me fairly good at trivia – I can talk myself through a question to the answer probably five out of six times. And lucky me, if I kick it off with the Mahna Mahna song it becomes a radio show. I will have to tape it for you.
B) I can remember what I was wearing at strange times. Like the time my friend’s father tried to molest me in the sixth grade. Light blue plaid A-line skirt, white sleeveless shell, and keds.
C) I vividly remember things from age 2 or so, but I can’t remember first grade
D) My shopping list, if I write it down and forget the list at home I will remember all but maybe one item on the list. If I stick the list in my pocket but never look at it, all bets are off and I will forget the majority of the items.

3) I don’t do the celebrity crush thing that people do, Okay I know that’s not weird. Until I say, but there is this actor that is hot. I think I’d seen him in several things, but it wasn’t until I saw him in the Keanu Reeves / Charlez Theron movie Sweet November that I thought he was raging hormones hot – As Chaz Cherry. He’s still hot as Detective Brittin, just not quite as much.

4) I get migraines. I know many many people get migraines, but I can see mine before they hit. It’s called an Aural Migraine. Imagine a little flashy light that starts just off center of your vision say at ten o’clock, is slowly grows in a flashly, white light semi circle to about two thirds of full circle before it starts slowly ebbing its way back to nothing. And then the headache and puking start. I’m such a good mother I shared it with my daughter, just like my mother shared them with me; my sister can smell her migraine coming on. It’s because we’re special. What?

5) I lose words. I have this goodly size vocabulary, a passionate love affair that involves painting pictures with words. And then I lose a word – mid sentence, it was right on my tongue, then it’s gone – lose a word. I will focus on the missing word, obsess on the missing word until I get it back. I’m thinking this isn’t that normal.

6) I will clean all the toilets you want, pick up dog poop with a plastic bag, but I hate, let me say that louder, I HATE CLEANING THE BATH TUB. Enough said. Oh and the mildew on the ceiling of my bathroom. Hate it.

7) There should be a frustrated medium in me trying to get out. But instead it is apparently dormant. Huh? Yeah, I thought you’d say that. All of my life I have been told I have a gift. I have Master Numbers, 38/11/2. I have been told by people who give readings that I should be giving readings, but I’ve yet to figure this crap out. If you have ability, shouldn’t you be in touch with it?

8) I can watch trashy housewives that make no sense, singing star wannabe’s who ignore advice until it’s too late (have you been watching Phil Phillips – I want the album), people hunt ghosts, talk to the dearly departed, and jousting hotties, but I hate watching a scripted TV show with holes in the storyline, ill-plausible solutions to a crime, and bad dialogue and acting. BTW, I still don’t like reruns.

9) Every person who means something to me in my life is a song. I will hear that song and they are with me. Some people like Psam have a multitude of songs, but that is logical she’s my daughter. Examples:

A) Ducky – Second Chances
B) My Dad – King of the Road
C) My Sister – Cracklin’ Rosie, or Wild Wild World
D) Burp – Little Red Riding hood / We Will Rock You
E) Don – Istanbul Not Constantinople
F) Different childhood friends –
1) Angel on my Shoulder
2) Natural Man
3) ABC
4) Alone Again Naturally
5) The Chipmunk Song
6) Gads that list could go on and on

10) It drives me crazy if the light switches in the hall way are left up instead of down. Ducky will walk into the hall from the living room, flick up the light switch, take four steps open the bedroom door and flick the light switch at the end of the hall up to turn off the light. It’s a short hall, WTF? Oh, and I want my vacuum cleaner cord wrapped nice and neat in a circular motion not all crazy eighted, nor twisted like your extension cords.

Thank you very much,
Cele



10 Weird Things About She Who Is Know As Cele – or When in doubt refer to number seven (originally posted in July 2007)

How on God’s Green earth do you blog 10 weird things about yourself? I mean isn’t my weird just someone else’s normal? Like my “unreasonable” fear of snakes? There are, like ten people out there who really like snakes. Now that is weird. In fact it’s just unreasonable. So your weirdness is my normal frame of thought…er you don’t like snakes do you? I’m really stuck on what is weird.
1) I don’t like talking on the phone. End of story. Well not really. Ducky is a phone addict. He talks to everyone on the phone, all the time. There are two things about Ducky that are a given, when he walks in the door, gets up or mows the lawn the TV is on. And two, if I am gone for more than ten minutes he will call people.

2) I hate reruns. I remember the plot, the dialogue, and what I can’t remember I will guess. Whereas, I despise watching TV shows over and over, I can watch a movie multiple times (as long as there is enough space in between viewings), and books? I’ve read Lord Of The Ring at least seven times. But not TV shows, and I can’t abide stupid demeaning humor – so that lets out 7 out of 10 shows.

3) I am now in my fifth decade and I still don’t feel like a grown up. When does that happen? I am a mother, a grandmother, and married three times, when does growing up happen?
(And no, that doesn’t explain two divorces.)4) Hobbies burn hot for me and then I burn out, never to go back. I once crocheted twenty five afghans for presents in two years time. That was 14 years ago, I’ve not done one since. I did stained glass at the beginning of marriage number two. Anyone want to buy a grinder, foiler, an assortment of glass cutters, lead came, and soldering irons? How about a box of skeins in various levels of depletion.

5) I love social climate Reality TV. Survivor (except for those friggin’snakes,) Big Brother, even The Surreal Life. It’s watching psychological warfare and strategy. The worst at the games, is the student of the games. Suckas

6) My mother named me Tanglefoot because I can’t walk straight, or remain up right. I fall, trip, slid, you name it I can tangle my feet around it. And I once dreamt of a career as a dancer…a roller derby queen(yes, despite being a tanglefoot I was very adept at skating, and my hipchecks were da bomb - literally, have you seen these hips?)….a marine biologist (no fancy footwork required but 8 years of zoology - I don't think so)… and a cosmetologist (that was a $4100 nightmare. Did you know you can get hair splinters, and the friggin' hurt?)

7) My sister says that she can chart her life by which name I was going by at the time and what new name I gave her.
a. Debbie – no offense, but there were six Debbie’s in my kindergarten class. Who in the heck wants to be part of a six-pack?
b. Debi
c. Debby
d. Deby Everyone wants a six-pack, but of a different ilk.
e. Then I moved to my middle name – at age 16, ah much better.
f. And Cele, is shortened version of
g. Celebrindal, from Tolkien’s Simarillion. So are you now lost? All who wander are not lost. Wrong book, right sentiment.

8) I can’t hold a grudge. Can’t do it. Life is too long to be unhappy, and far too short to not be happy.

9) I frequently know when the phone is going to ring and often who’s on the other end. I either see their face or I think their name. I can often hear the Jeopardy – double jeopardy jingle before it plays.

10) I have many acquaintances, but very few true friends. When I make a friend, it is for life, whether they are talking to me or not. This causes me to get screwed over on occasion, but you can only be hurt if you give your heart. So to me… Heart / Heartless The choice is a no brainer to me.

Sith,
Cele