Sunday, April 27, 2008


We apparently had the best week of weather so far, when I was at Sid’s. I’m glad I wasn’t here for it, had I been my annuals would have died, I would have been bummed, and half my annual allowance on plants spent…and dead from the snow and low temps we’ve had since mid April.

My patience and absence has been rewarded with Tulips, beautiful Tulips. In Ducky’s Lily Garden.

Yesterday I spent all day weeding, more is ahead, but ahhh that first great day of weather always feels so glorious.

When these are gone I’ll be replacing them with Ducky’s other favorite: Petunias, but for the moment we enjoy Tulips.

So the other day we were discussing the TV Meme, below is Ducky's Answers....
Back in the Day: 5 TV Shows you loved as a kid:
1) Modsquad
2 Good Times
3) All in the Family
4) Rifleman
5) Startrek
Who Would You Do?: 5 TV Characters You Would...well you know (this was what started him doing this Meme)
1) Jaclyn Smith - Charlie's Angels
2) Lynda Carter - Wonder Woman
3) Tyra Banks (I didn't know he was into talk shows) (What? They talk?)
4) Edyta Sliwinski - Dancing With The Stars
5) Dana Delaney - China Beach
What? No No I Don't Watch That: 5 Guilty Pleasure TV Shows
1) Housewives of NYC / OC
2) Dancing With The Stars
3) Inside Edition
4) Joan of Arcadia
Wow!: 5 TV Moments You Still Remember and probably won't forget
1) The Tool Time Finale
Tossed Salads and Scrambled Eggs: 5 TV Theme Songs You Know
1) Mickey Mouse Club
Eh: Shows You Just Couldn't Get Into
1) Dukes of Hazzard
2) F-Troop
3) Hogan's Heros
4) Daytime Soap Operas
The Starting Line Up: 5 Channels You Go To First When You Sit Down To Watch
2) Fox Sports Northwest
3) Scifi
4) TBS
That's What She Said: 5 TV Quotes
1) Dy-no-mite!
Gimme More: 5 Shows You Can Never GEt Enough Of
1) Home Improvement
2) Frasier
3) SVU
4) China Beach
Waaa!: 5 Shows You Still Mourn
1) Home Improvement
2) Frasier
3) China Beach
Headdesk!: 5 Shows You Wish They's Kill
1) Dukes of Hazzard
2) Simpsons
3) Brady Bunch
(this guy holds a grudge)

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Talk Thursday - Tanglefoot at Ten

It was early in life when I learned the best days of summer came in August. School generally let out for the summer break in late May, early June. The first weeks of the break were filled with Vacation Bible School, swimming lessons, and then summer school. Where some district hold summer session only for kids in academic trouble, the LaMirada/Norwalk Unified School district held summer school for all takers. And my mom took them up on all offers. Before summer session began, my mother would have workbooks and readers waiting for us, an hour of study and reading each day before summer play could begin. Where summer school filled our mornings, a craft program would fill at least a portion of our afternoons. It wouldn’t be until almost August when summer school would let out and the remaining four or so weeks would be ours.

I was ten and it was my third year of Girl Scout camp that I learned to love, I mean really get into the great out of doors. I found myself for a second year at Circle-Ho, one of the units at Skyland Ranch deep in the Angeles National Forest and the San Jacinto Mountains. The prior year at Circle-Ho I passed out in the flag ceremony before all gathered at the first noon meal, a not so splendid start of the first day of a new session. This year had to be better.

At camp I didn’t go by my name, I was Tanglefoot (thank you mom) because it was much cooler to have a “camp name” and I was pinning my sights on the day I’d get to be a CIT (Counselor In Training.) As happens with every session, many of the returning faces were I knew from the year past: Stephanie Perlman, Karin French, Frannie Hatch, Ann Carrolle and our favorite councilors Dinky, Honey, Twiggy, and Smokey. Camp just felt right that first day, I was back amid the pines, manzanita, and girls who accepted me for, well me.

All remained right until I woke up the next morning to find a Mojave Jade perched in the middle of my chest on my sleeping bag. I’m sure my life was moments from mortal peril, (we’d been taught to beware the insect’s deadly sting) right up until a shoe hit me square in the chest and bounced the scorpion off my bag and into the brush (no we never found it.) Fortunately I’d not been the only girl to wake at that moment in the dawn, Karin French had seen the scorpion eyeing my nose and beaned it with a shoe, therefore saving my life.

Thank heavens Karin’s aim was better than her ability to walk up right. The summer before she’d broke her arm after falling off a boulder, on to some more boulders, breaking her arm. Her injuries would be a running theme through out our time at Skyland Ranch.

The opening days of our two week session in the mountains was spent on forest craft, day hikes, and lessons that would prepare us for our big pack trip, a twenty mile trek into the San Jac wilderness. The evenings were spent in song around a campfire; Barges, Kumbaya, Kookaburra, Puff The Magic Dragon, and my favorite: Spideweb.

Departure day for our pack trip dawned beautiful and bright. We breakfasted on fruit, toast, and the only Oatmeal I’d ever eat – because, damn it was good. We divvied up the supplies we would need over the next four days, secured our packs and climbed in to the vans that would take us to our jump off point.

Stellar Jays greeted us as we started off from Humber’s Landing. Girls followed in a steady stream behind the leading counselors, but as the trek grew long, the line of hikers would become dots and dashes as girls meandering their way along the Devil’s Slide trail. The water rested in a lazy calm of deep pools, but gave way to swifter waters higher up on the trail. In the heat of the day those deep pools would beckon us to enjoy a refreshing dip, but for now it was for us to trod on to make our first night camp.

The days would grow hot and at night we never seemed to be able to get warm in our sleeping bags. I slept one eye open, certain a rattlesnake was going to slither in to keep warm. I should have realized my frozen toes were a sure giveaway that I’d be safe.

A series of three swimming holes prompted us to stop on day three of our pack trip for lunch, then dabble and frolic in the water. Peanut butter, jerky, dried fruit, and Wyler’s lemonade took care of the hunger, the ponds were giving us a great treat from the hiking when suddenly all was not right with Karin French. Just like in a game of Operator the murmurs and whispers that leaked and spread from girl to girl had Karin suffering from cramps, swimming to soon after eating, to snakebite. In truth Karin had to be air-Medivac’d out because her appendix was on the verge of rupturing, she would spend the remainder of summer camp at the hospital in Banning.

Camp our third night out was spent near the swimming pools, several miles from where we should have been. Despite the excitement of the afternoon, the songs were just as harmonious, though the circle of singers around the fire was missing one camper and one counselor. Gone but not forgotten we toasted them with s’mores and sang another round of Barges. The next morning we had to hoof it to make up time and meet our vans to take us back to Skyland for the remainder of summer camp.

It was in those mountains, among those girls that I always felt most at home. The fresh air tinged with pine, Stellar Jays squawking in the sun, owls hooting in the night, name tags made out of manzanita, campfires and the songs. Oh, my joy of singing with these friends in harmony, in rounds, in solitude at days end, in peace. It was peace I found up in those mountains, the friends were just the icing on my cake. I learned to listen, to hear the world and mother nature breathe, to catch the tinkling and babbling of water over rocks, the wind whispering in the tree tops easing me to sleep. I miss those days, those moments, those friends, but I hold them ever in my heart, I take them out and shine up the memory forty some years later, just like it was yesterday.

A Girl Scout song says,

Make new friends
But keep the old
Some are silver
And the others gold.


PS the picture above is actually from teh 1971 Camping and Summer Activities guide put out by the Greater Long Beach Girl Scout Council...and yes that was me with my mouth wide open-- at Skyland.

Monday, April 21, 2008

TV Meme

TV Meme!!
I found this on Enlightened's Blog and just had to play along. Join in if you are so inclined.

Back in the Day: 5 TV Shows You Loved As A Kid
1. Dark Shadows
2. Bewitched
3. Here Come The Brides
4. Carol Burnett Show
5. and Mash
Plus just about any Hanna Barbera cartoon

Who Would You Do?: 5 TV Characters You Would...Well, It's Self-Explanatory - really I need butt shots for this, but darn....
1. Josh Lyman – West Wing – Bradford Whitford

2. Harry Dresden – Dresden Files – Paul Blackthorne

3. John Crichton – Farscape – Ben Browder

4. Marcus Cole – Babylon V – Jason Carter

What? No, No, I Don't Watch That...: 5 Guilty Pleasure TV Shows
1. Ghost Hunters
2. Dancing With The Stars
3. So You Think You Can Dance
4. American Idol
5. Once Upon A Time…. General Hospital

Wow: 5 TV Moments You Still Remember (And Probably Won't Forget).
1. Cherry Woods death on China Beach
2. Judith’s death on Joan of Arcadia
3. Luke and Laura’s wedding (General Hospital)
4. Tyger Hayes grieving at the death bed of Chase Marshall (Bare Essence – the only episode I watched)

"Tossed Salads and Scrambled Eggs": 5 TV Theme Songs You Know (and Love) By Heart
1. Super Chicken
2. Sheriff John’s Birthday Song

Eh: 5 Shows You Just Couldn't Get Into:
1. Lost (as of season two)
2. Desparate Housewives (as of season two)
3. South Park
4. ER – Chicago Hope -
5. Dallas – Dynasty – Knots Landing

The Starting Line-Up: 5 Channels You Go To First When You Sit Down to Watch TV
1. TV Guide Channel
2. ESPN I and or II
3. CBS
4. History
5. Sci-fi

That's What She Said: 5 Quotes That Still Resonate
1. People remember these things?
2. oh oh, Cowabunda Dude!
3. Incoming!
4. Getta Job Ya Bum!
5. The stories you are about to hear are true, only the he names have been changed to protect the innocent.(wow, I guess I am totally hopeless.)

Gimme More: 5 Shows You Can Never Get Enough Of
1. Ghost Hunters
2. Ice Road Truckers
3. Jeopardy
4. So You Think You Can Dance
5. Dancing With The Stars

Waaaaa!: 5 Shows You Still Mourn Losing Prematurely
1. Sportstalk
2. Farscape
3. Joan of Arcadia
4. Babylon V
5. Dresden Files
6. Mysteries of the Bible

Headdesk!: 5 Shows You Wish They'd Killed (or at least ended) While They Were Still Good
1. China Beach
2. West Wing

Thursday, April 17, 2008

Talk Thursday – Desire, Come and Get It - Or As Meatloaf said, "Paradise By The Dashboard Lights"

I stood on the outside looking in, wanting, no yearning with all the gangly, gawky, teenage, girliness that I was, to be on the inside. No matter the road required, my feet tread where my heart lead, my body cashing the checks my desire wrote screaming, “Come and get it, all takers welcome.” Sex and kindness were the only tickets to where I wanted to be.

Instead of on the inside I was found rarely on Saturday nights without a date. It’s the older me who would see that Friday night dates would have meant public disclosure that the jock of the night had been without a date. Saturday nights were for necking in dark movies, petting in the park (yeah as if we called it petting, wrong generation), and passing third base at the wave-pounding beach. Saturday nights were given over to momentary relief: hormonal for him, delusional acceptance for me. It would all end in the grief of the used and discarded.

Post weekend Monday lunches were spent on the fringe in Senior Square with the smoking chicks who took me in. Tuesday’s never found the phone ringing with a call for me, and after that week slow spun in to an abyss of the fore said discarded grief. Then Friday night would close in that anticipation of what Saturday could be. Even before I could see the patter, my psyche had some how accepted the chain of patterned events in my young life. Not so many years later, I would lie a different self into existence when my reality suddenly was black and white.

Ducky has heard my full disclosure on my teen years, but he is shocked that I share them so freely and openly online. I don’t bemoan my teenage trials I embrace them. I use my past to understand another’s present or future. I used the teen sex as a stepping stone to become the lover that I am today. I learned to seduce mentally and emotionally for full sexual impact and satisfaction. I learned to listen, to feel, to like me and live with in my skin. To realizing that acceptance comes from within first.

Now my desires beckon in lust born of love and trust, knowledge and past pain. Be at home in me and my love, for my desire is hot, come and get it.


Sunday, April 13, 2008

Incredible People, Incredible Weekend, Thank You

I don’t like to start blogs with the word “I.” Why? Because I hate it seeming as if I think it’s all about me, even if it is. But I would have started off with the word I for this blog, regardless and the blog isn’t really about me at all. I think. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t think, maybe.

I am extremely blessed with a bevy of wonderful, generous, humorous, friends. I didn’t get to meet all my Internet friends, and the ones I did weren’t the first ones I’ve ever met, but they are among the best. I certainly hope they will not be the last I meet, because, Wow! There are so many more I want to meet again face to face, hand to hand, hug to hug. And oooh, I love to hug.

First I hugged Sideon, who oh mi GAWD! is so adorable, generous, and open. He and Scott opened there home to me. Despite already having an already full house, they invited me to be apart of the festivities that happened in the days before Sid’s big 4-0 bash.

There are no words that I can say that can even begin to say how much I admire them, enjoy them, adore them, and am humbled by their capacity to accept me and make me feel cherished. I love these guys.

JulieAnn and T. Wanker. These two are hot…Screaming hot and fun to be around. The discussion is never dull, always a skewed and definitely wacked and pertinent all at the same time.

A picture of JulieAnn & T Wanker should go here and if you want blurry it can, because the only clear picture I have is of JulieAnn's back.

Julz and Beau Bill. Crazy people, you’ve not laughed until you’ve played cut-throat Bitch Uno having sat down and hazard the deck with Sid, Julz, and Beau Bill.

They are insanely hysterical and wonderful. Oh and Julz, is a gracious “but will never let you forget how mean you are to her” eater of large fisted hands of Uno cards, when she's been Uno Bitch Sid.

I spent many delightful hours with these wonderful people, and I hope to enjoy many more in the future. I am honored to call them friend(s).

And while I didn't know them before I enjoyed their company immensily, you see Lynn in the pictures above, I'd I also send a shout out to her delightful daughter Jen who writes (then performs) wicked dirty cheers.


ps I stupidly didn’t change the batteries in my camera so I don’t have the great pictures I’d hope for.

Friday, April 11, 2008

I Left My Thighs In San Francsico – I Know Wishful Thinking

For those you who worried about rain in Frisco may I say, “Jump on in the sunshine’s great, just wear some good SPF’s.”

I journeyed into Frisco to revisit the sights just before mid day. If I could have stopped I would have in the middle of the 680 there is an awesome view of San Francisco surrounded by the bay that is stunning. But I’m a thinking the commuters buzzing at 75mph around me probably would have be a bit ticked at my inaction. The sky wasn’t smog free but it was blue, the sun was sparkling off the bay and the day was an awesome 77.

I drove Mission street in search of a parking garage, and was lucky to find (I think) the one that Sid had mentioned at Seventh and Mission. Then I trekked it back down the hill to the Yerba Buena Gardens. A very lovely green spot in the heart of downtown Frisco across Mission from the Moscone Center.

The park was filled with every shape of person, a bevy of birds, and flowers galore. I tend to be one of those people who stops to ooh, ahh, and snaps a picture of each pretty flower that catches my eye. And if flowers aren’t available, then birds will do. Today it was Cowbirds, Starlings, and Gulls in abundance in the gardens, totally undaunted by the sunbathers, lunchers, and snoozers.

I was chugging my ass back up Mission Street when I realized I really should have parked much closer. Despite having only a Mocha and no lunch, I’m pretty certain my chubby hips are just were they were when I woke up this morning. They just have a bit more endurance now, damn there are a lot of stairs.

Picking a street I drove east and somehow through a series of random turns I ended up at the top of Lombard Street. I have no clue how, in fact it was the view of Alcatraz I was after. Cresting a hill I was stunned by the beautiful, reach right out and touch it, view. It was only after I found a place to park to take some photos did I realize I was at Lombard Street. The view, wonderful.

Then it was back down to the Embarcadero in search of a Baseball Cap for Ducky’s collection. Oh, mi gawd the guy has dozens. How we didn’t get one from Frisco the last time we were there is beyond me, but he’s got one now. I also bought his birthday present, a signed and frame Whitey Ford photo. Whitey Ford being his favorite (back when) player.

Now I am just exhausted, well you be sunshine fresh after getting lost in Oakland. Don’t ask. I’m off for pizza.


The House of Water

Do you ever find yourself in those situations that so live up to your expectations that you want to pinch yourself? Exactly.

Who would have thought Indian take out would be so wonderful? Well especially after the last time I had Indian fare in the Lakes District. Ugh to say the least. But tonight I was treated to good food, friends, and wine at Palazzo Pentozzi. Awesome. I don’t know what 90 percent of what we ate was, but I can identify the rice and peas, Aam, and loved the stuff Sid referred to as Madonna Breasteseseses. But I am jumping ahead of myself.

I started my day out in a funk. I had no clue what I was destined to do after my daily trip through blogdom, except some thong shopping at Sunvalley Mall. After finding a friendly guy at the pumping station (Oregonians don’t pump their own gas, I’m sure it’s kind of a Keystone Cops episode watching me even try) to fill up my car (which is a whole ‘nother blog…with pictures) I headed off to shop. I am seriously considering an exercise regime after today, I am grossly out of shape. Two laps around the mall and I was in pain. I made myself walk up every stair, I avoided all ramps and elevators…it was torture. But I have six new pairs of panties, two shirts, a tank top, and a pair of pants to show for it. I discovered I have a clothes horse gene in latent development.

I returned to my room, to find once again I couldn’t get the slider key thingie to work. You know how eel skin demagnetizes credit cards? I think my butt demagnetizes slider cards, this is the third time I had to get the manager to do my door (I really think he followed because he wanted my yogurt parfait.) Cooling off in my room, it was a whole blazing 75 degrees outside (hey I’m from Oregon it rarely gets that hot) I ate my yogurt parfait and blogged away wasting as much time possible until it was time to buy wine and drive to Palazzo Pentozzi.

Sid was just arriving home (with said Indian take out) as I was pulling up. In fact I waited on the doorstep to welcome him home, idiot wanted to shake my hand. Huh? I’m a hugger dude. Sid’s sister and her friend, in town to celebrate the Sidly 4-0, arrived shortly there after. And Scott rounded out the party of five.

Scott gave me a tour of Palazzo Pentozzi, inside and out, with its solar panels, wood floors, outdoor living space and wonderful rooms. Inside Sid was delving into covered creations emitting tantalizing steam and scents. With a toast to good friends and food the night had begun, the food devoured, laughter ensued. That and a lot of ball throwing for Midas. Soon Julz and her beau arrived to join in the merriment and conversation.

Palazzo Pentozzi: A house of love and warmth that dances to the endless music of splashing water.


Thursday, April 10, 2008

Talk Thursday - Once Upon A Time...

Any one with a good sense of judgment can tell you there is more than one me. Once upon a time I was a little girl who looked up to my older and wiser cousins. Cammy was everything I wanted to be: he was a teenager with a license. Well okay, not at first, there was the time he got all of us kids thrown in to the Scottsdale Jail because he was driving without a license, I think he was old enough to have one. Cam was so cool, until the afternoon that him and his buddy Darryle (who he doesn’t remember) told me that I couldn’t go out with them because they turned into monsters who slathered little girls up with mayo and mustard for midnight snacks. I boldly told them (hands on hips, chin jutted out in defiance) “Nunhhuh you liars” and then cried when they left.

Once upon a time in a southern California grade school I was the gawky limbed, tall, skinny girl everyone, okay really Dennis Vincegura, beat up all the time. I never knew why he hated me, why I was the easy target, except I never fought back. Mouthy yes, physical no. I would go home, swallow my sorrow, and get on with my life until the next time Dennis Vincegura kicked my underpants up my ass. In hindsight I shouldn’t be surprised, his dad beat his mom up regularly. Hey, Dennis, now I wear thongs, thank you.

In high school I was the weird girl hanging with the cool smoker chicks in the quad. Wearing the really short dresses, chain-smoking at fifteen, and cussing like a longshoreman. I was known for being willing to try any thing once. But I doubt few knew my name. My fa├žade said if you don’t like me, your loss; my interior hid a sad loneliness.

As I grew I embraced me. If you don’t like me I do care, but I won’t bend over backwards to please you. I have a mind and I don’t always speak it, but it doesn’t mean I don’t have an opinion. I am loud wallpaper, but at 52 I am trying hard to come out of my shell.

Once upon a time I loved change. Moving to new places, eager for the next adventure, to see where in America or the world it would take me. What I would see, what I would learn, who I could become. I am still eager for the adventures, but my roots are solid and well dug in. I don’t want to live anywhere other than Florence, Oregon, but that doesn’t mean I’m not into learning new places, embracing new people, testing new waters.

Once upon a time I would never have been so bold as to think people would want to meet me. Now I travel to places beyond to meet people I’ve never seen. Sit with them in London poetry cafes and chat about what and who we have in common. Not a geeky, middle aged woman, and a British screenwriter, but two poets communing. Two friends with much to share. Tonight I will have dinner with a dear friend whom I’ve never laid my eyes upon, his partner, and his sister. We will sit down and break bread, share wine, and each other. And I will not be afraid, but I will embrace them. Saturday I will not be the tall, black clad, wallpaper (okay I’ll be wearing black—because that is me, but I won’t be wallpaper) and I will finally get to meet JulieAnn face to face writer to writer, girl friend to girl friend, never strangers again. I will get to meet people who so far have just been a name on a comment on someone else’s blog. Saturday night I will laugh and be filled with joy and new people. Once upon a time I would never have had the guts.

So who are you today and what were you yesterday?

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Flying in a Nine Month of a Nine Year – Pictures at Eleven

Tomorrow morning I fly out at Don’s Butt crack to visit the Don himself. I am uber (a word I never use) excited. I have been mentally planning this trip for a year, since Sid and Sister Mary Lisa talked last year about doing a Blogger Anonymous meeting. Ex-Cit-ed-ed-ed-ed. Can’t wait.

I have no clue who is showing up but I know I get to meet finally, face to face, two of my favorite people; of course the illustrious Sideon and Mr. Scott, and fabulous JulieAnn is flying out Friday with Mr. T. Wanker. I had originally planned a five-day trip with Ducky to the wonderful Bay Area, but he can’t go so I’m flying out tomorrow morning at 6am by myself. Which could be a good thing for Ducky this is a nine-year for me. I actually flew in a nine year, nine month, nine day and nothing happened back in 1999 so hmmm, I’m feeling a bit safe. I’ll leave my rings at home. Just incase I’m a thinkin’.

So I have the whole week off, the first vacation I’ve had for over a year and a half. Sincerely. I need this so much. What do I do? Well I started out well intended, I spent the weekend with Ducky and Burp in the hot tub. Ahhhh! It is Spalicious, though it could probably go up a degree. Sunday morning I thought, “Heck I’m going to meet a whole bunch of people I want to impress this next week, so I think I will cut my hair.” Sunday morning I spent approximately half an hour in the bathroom cutting off two inches of hair (in some places, one in others.) How is that for confidence? You think that is nuts? Oh no. Yesterday the insanity began. I shampooed my carpeting, well all but one room – if I shampooed my 27 year old bedroom carpet it would dissolve. Now the carpet smells vinegary fresh. Then I went and shampooed my mother’s den. Now her carpet smells vinegary fresh. Some people use lemon, I add white vinegar to cut pet (I am owned by a Basset) and other odors that might remain after being doused with gallons of hot carpet cleaner. Now my back is killing me, so back in the hot tub. Ahhhh! Yep, still Spalicious.

My packing is now half way done, I’m short socks, could use another pair of jeans. Ha ha, Ducky thinks I should take something besides jeans, this from the man who wears NOTHING BUT 501 Levis. Girl Scout’s honor. So I threw in my hippie skirt. I land at SFO at 8 something Wednesday morning and have nothing on my agenda before Saturday night. Well what the heck do you do, by yourself for five whole days in Frisco? First I am driving to Shingle Springs to do lunch with my cousin Jeannie Beth who I’ve not seen since I moved to Germany. Ummm, that was three decades ago. By the time I get back I should be able to check in to my room and watch Ghost Hunters.

Sid and Scott have generously offered to spend some of my spare time with them. So I am spending a portion of Thursday with Sid and family. How incredibly open and inviting. The skirt will work well here.

Friday, well Friday is going to be spent with my camera. Sid suggest the Yerba Buena Gardens and waterfalls. I am so excited. Tewkes will need a post card, and Burp wants a smooshed penny or two, and for Ducky a Frisco baseball cap (how we forgot one on our last trip is beyond me.) Plus a kewl something for my mom, because she is wonderful.

Saturday, I’m not sure what the heck I am doing, I hope sleeping in really late. Then some food, maybe some more food, a walk to get rid of the food, and then being terrified to meet a whole bunch of new people I want to meet. My plane leaves SFO Sunday morning at 8:25, which means being at SFO by 6:30, therefore awake by 5 and out of the hotel by 5:30. Yes folks being female I can do that and still have eyeliner and hair in place.

Ah, Vacation, everyone should do this more often.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

I Wish This Was A Diet

We finally got our hot tub in. We’ve been giving this to each other for a few anniversaries past and knowing the total price, a few future ones as well. But ahhhh, it is so worth it. My sister and brother-in-law have had one for years, in fact half of mine and Ducky’s first real date was spent there (after a really bad movie, they’re right White Men Can’t Jump.) Ducky’s sister and our Bro-in-law have had one for about a year now. And of course Sid and Scott have one and a pool. But I’m not going the pool route, I mean this is the Oregon Coast, with our high water table pools pop up out of the ground or flood with sediment.

So Ducky and Burp! Laid out and dug the foundation.

Then we had a guy pour the pad.

Then they delivered the hot tub.

Then Bro-in-law and Ducky did the wiring. (Ducky's picture removed from here)

Then I filled it. And ahhhhh! Burp jumped in.

Last night I floated in the tub for an hour (because you know fat floats.) I’d turned the spa’s light out and just floated in the dark. Ahhh, what heaven. A light rain was falling (I borrowed one of Ducky’s ball caps) and interesting experience I’d not been sure I’d like, but wow, awesome.

I still don’t have a privacy screen, but we turned the tub so the cover offers some seclusion. And of course I turned out the lights.

Now if this was a diet, I’d do it for life.


Thursday, April 03, 2008

Talk Thursday: My Mother’s Gift - Herself

First I would like to say my heart goes out to my dear friend JulieAnn who is suffering heartache and sorrow today. Her mother was the inspiration for this week's Talk Thursday topic. This morning her much loved mother passed, one year to the day of her father's passing. JulieAnn my love and strenght to you and yours.

My Mother's Gift ♥ Herself

All of my adult life I have tried to live up to a specific example of motherhood: Superwoman. I feel doomed to failure. I remember the first time I admitted to my mom that I’d made hamburger helper for dinner. I felt like an entire failure of womanhood (I hadn’t told her my husband had requested the mass produced crunchy dried boxed potatoes and chemical sauce) not that she made me feel that way, but in my heart I'd failed to do what my mom would have done. The woman will cook almost anything once (but not hamburger helper.) To this day my mother is testing out new recipes.

Before marrying my father (like most women of her generation and before) my mother had never lived on her own. Before marrying my father, my mother had never cooked a meal; never sewn a stitch, most likely never changed a diaper. It’s not an easy transition going for the world of the entitled to the life of lower middle class housewife. But she did it, making up for the things she’d never experienced with her own mother along the way. When my mother was growing up it was all about my grandmother and my aunt.

My mother gave her all to be the best mother and wife she could possibly be. And it wasn’t an easy task. She’d had no role model from which to draw her ideals and mold her self after.

She is Mares Eat Oates and Does Eat Oates, she is Lavender Blue Dilly Dilly. She can be anything you want her to be, she is mom, one of the most vital parts of me and who I am today.

My mother threw herself into motherhood heart, body, and soul Teaching us to give with compassion, think for ourselves, and to question what we didn’t know or understand in a time long before soccer mom’s ruled the hectic family schedule my mom was ferrying her children to dance class, baseball practices, swimming lessons, and running the snack shack at each game. She was a Brownie leader, a den mother, Girl Scout leader, pack mom. She volunteered in the school library. She supported her children in every possible way she could, giving us her youth and the best of what she knew she could be.

My mother never said…
“I can’t do that.”
“You can’t be that.”
It was always, “You can be what ever you want with enough hard work and will power.”

But the most important lessons my mother gave me were about the importance of me. They still are today as they were yesterday and will be still more tomorrow.

1) I am only as good as my word
2) I have to like myself before anyone else can
3) Give fully of yourself, don’t do it half assed
4) Do for others without expectation of payback, solely because it’s the right thing to do (early pay it forward.)
5) And that will be 25 cents, don’t cuss

To this day I am trying to live up to the example that my mom has always set. She is strong, loving, giving, and willing. And thank God, besides being my mother and role model she’s my friend. Her gift was and always is herself.


Tuesday, April 01, 2008

It's not the fence that makes good neighbors, it's the pet

Have you ever thought about your choice of pets? In hindsight? I have a pissy basset, he doesn’t bark at rose killing neighbors, no he just whines to get in to the house, to the treats, to shed everywhere. As Spring awakens, bringing out new flower blooms and new leaves budding on my bushes (well everything except my now dead climbing rose bush) I am questioning my choice of pets.

We just put in a hot tub, one we’ve been giving to each other for several anniversaries--past, present, and future. And damn, I’ve no concealing rose hedge to hid its position in my back yard. There will be no naked cavorting in the bubbly jets. There will be no carnal middle age lust, even in the dark witching hours of 3am, when only owls could see. Why, because my hot tub is open to all who wish to view my backyard (and my new room too) for neighboring backyards for at least a block.

My “neighbor” (doesn’t that word carry a connotation of friendliness and respect?) has no shrubbery (especially not mine) in his backyard. Nada. And his front yard is dead except two Rhodies and he’s pulling one of them out. No, he has one tree and gravel. I shit you not, ¾ gravel for all to see. Quite a tidy (and stark) backyard. Nope, no neighborliness there, nor here. So I am considering my next pet.

A Velociraptor! (I had to ask how to spell it, but I know what they can do.)

I would buy it a yellow bow, to remind me and my “neighbor” of the roses that won’t bloom this May. Maybe a light lavender tether to remind him of the wisteria he should think twice about touching. After I have fed him well on gumpy Hawaiin rejects, I could lend out my Velociraptor for house sitting, it would cut down the volume of vaction break ins, vandalism, and geez—graffiti (although I tend to enjoy the graffiti I see on the sides of the trains in Mapleton.) But think of the city walls, public buildings, and billboard it would save if I lent out my yellow bowed Velociraptor. I like that word, Velociraptor.

So keep me in mind while you’re on your next safari through the want ads or on vacation.

Wanted: 1 male (they’re more territorial) Velociraptor. Yellow bow optional.


Sketch copyright: Edyta Felcyn My Jurassic