Monday Mimisms ~ Moves Like Jagger

Mist forming on a lonely highway. The smell of fresh rain. On my way to pick up grandson #2 (aka Beans) I stopped for a quick drive-thru iced tea at one of my favorite places. The ice is crushed. The tea is perfect. I had plenty of time and I knew my boy would want french fries and ketchup on the side. Back on the highway, I leisurely drove into clouds and rain, sipping my tea. Along about the third curve towards town, torrents of heavy rain began to pitter patter beat on the windshield. Concentrate, Mimi, concentrate...It's just a little rain. Put down the tea....the tea. And then it happened. It was the ice, you see. Crushed. Perfect. Just like she wanted. My hands cupped the glass and I saw her hands...Mama

When we would go shopping on Saturdays, she loved to stop and get crushed ice with sweet tea. It made her happy.    "I miss my mama," cried my heart and then out loud in a storm-soaked vehicle, driving into rain, through rain, becoming rain Oh God, I miss my mama.  I was a complete unexpected mess. The  floodgates opened and would.not.stop, keeping time with the windshield wipers and mixing in the clouds. We were as different as pumpkins and peonies, but today I just wanted to have tea with her and talk about dress shops and flower beds. The sobs came out of nowhere, unlike the stoic resolve I manage to maintain on a usual day....and I could not make them stop. I haven't written much about her since she passed in 2019. Her death was sudden. The aftermath vile and wholly undignified. She didn't deserve the end she was dealt and it was more grief than I could process. 

Beans climbed in the car, eager to spend a week with me, with a what-is-wrong-with-you-Mimi look and why is your mascara running question. No answer. I was spent. Then something amazing and brilliant and fascinating happened.Because he's been permanently banned from cellphones (long sad story for another day oh.the.drama) he did the only thing a phone deprived pre-teen could do.He reached for the radio. "How does this work?" he asked.
Do you know how quickly tears can turn to laughter? I nearly spun into a ditch trying to teach him how to use the dials. And this boy, who always somehow knows just what I need when I need it, turned the volume up to sonic boom, rolled the windows down just for kicks and set the controls on automatic scan. Who taught him to increase the bass? THUMP THUMP through neighborhoods we cruised. I'm sure it could be heard at the International Space Station.    Every ten seconds or so, the music would change from rap to classical to gospel to inappropriate wordy rap (giggles) to talk radio to strings and usually back to very loud rap music. We put on very large rockstar sunglasses and changed our mood and facial expressions to match whatever played. It was hysterical...well...to us...and every neighborhood we passed through as well, including the squirrels and cows and birds trying to catch a glimpse into the runaway rogue mess of a gyrating car we were in.  Until...

Maroon 5 began to sing "Moves Like Jagger"... Stop! Stop it right there! Beans began to bounce. The car bounced. I bounced. My shoulders twitched from side-to-side. My toes tapped on the floorboard and his feet moved on the dashboard. I conducted with one hand (who conducts Mick Jagger?) and drove with the other.  We sang at the top of our lungs as he masterfully executed the washing machine dance in the passenger seat while I crazily snapped my fingers to the beat and banged my head around like a teenager on the sidelines at a Beatles concert. (Yes, I was still driving, my Bloggy People) The clouds were dancing. Mama was dancing. Tea was spilling. Love was flowing.

I forgot all about mascara on my face and why I was crying in the first place. We car danced all the way up the driveway until we stopped for one more look out the rolled-down windows to see how many woodsy creatures we could scare with the Rolling Stones.  I never had a dance partner so brilliant.


The sun came out and we were home. 

 "You just ruined my ears for eternity!" I told him. More laughter. More volume.

Then a loud crushing pain in my heart.

"Nothing is for eternity, my girl," Mama whispered.

 "Everything changes."

And so it does.

Images: Mimi Lenox and Wikimedia Creative Commons
Follow Me

Join us for Blog4Peace Nov 4

Like Our Facebook Page

Peace Store

Sunday Morning Me

For a teacher, every day is "Sunday morning" in the summertime. And I'm loving it! My body needs about three weeks (no exaggeration) to physically and mentally recoup from the school year. You go go go go non-stop for ten months in exhausting and stressful conditions, working 12 hour days (and more) and that's just ON campus. Off-campus preparations and performances add to that workload. Summertime is collection of overtime pay. The people who know me get it, but really only people in academia know the kind of exhaustion-to-the-bone I'm talking about. 
Week three is here and I'm beginning to feel somewhat rested and ready to embark on a few gentle summer projects before the bell rings in August. After twenty-one years in the classroom, this may be my last August bell. Yay! We shall see how it goes and what's best for me.
I've been couching. Listening to music. Updating old blog posts. Reading. Researching retirement options. Going to physical therapy (a story for another day!) Visiting with my mother and kids. Learning some new songs.  Mostly couching.
 Baby Beans and I are going on a river trip next week if I feel up to walking. I've lost my camera. How does one lose a Nikon camera?? I'm sure it's in that-place-I-hid-it-for-safekeeping-that-I-will-obviously-remember-but-will-NEVER-remember. You know what I'm talking about? 
I also need to respond to an email I recently received that gave me pause....So I paused. I will respond when I know what to say.

Meanwhile....gotta find that camera. And some words.

Join us for Blog4Peace Nov 4

Like Our Facebook Page

Peace Store

Monday Mimisms ~ I Need An Ocean and A Long Strong Kiss

I'm here. 

It's Monday and long past time for a Mimism.  I haven't posted since May, which is when the perpetual trouble started. Have you ever wanted to lay low because the thoughts in your head are not suitable for public consumption? 

It's been the summer of decisions and time thieves. My mother's health is failing. She wants to tie up all the loose ends and revisit ancient history at the same time. It's important to her but I'm exhausted!  Some days she's the mother and we are shopping for skirts and shoes. Then in an instant I'm reminded by the look in her eyes that the mother is really me and we're shopping for inhalers and nightgowns.  How does predictable role reversal sneak up on a person? After all, it's life and I should have been ready.
I'm not. 

P.S. I need an ocean and a long strong kiss

And just why am I furiously typing at midnight like some mad blogwoman with too much on her mind? The ever-present saga of revolving doors. I'm dizzy.  Men.  Dating. Relationships. Lovely outings when I feel all grown up and ready to fall into Mr. Beautiful's arms. Until I don't. 
Fall, that is. 

I usually just trip.

Dating is i.n.s.a.n.e! And in need of therapy. Not me. Not them. The whole crazy system needs a psychiatrist.  It's warped like a bad bad version of a cancelled game show. Imagine The Newlywed Game played by people in the Big Brother house who don't even know each other but pretend to because they only want to win the game. That pretty much describes the rules of engagement during midlife dating.  The playbook is outdated (pardon the pun) and I'm reeling trying to read minds when all I want to do is get on with it. 

When I find a way to harness the power of instant discernment I'll let you know. For now I'll continue to enjoy the endless array of men willing to "explore the possibilities" they didn't want in the first place. How did predictable Mars/Venus insanity infiltrate my everyday existence once again? After all, it's life and I should have been ready. 

I'm not. 

Am I too picky? No. I think the problem is that I'm too picky too slow! Does that make sense? I'd rather forgo six or seven dates of wasted oxygen and couch kissing (well, that was nice...) wondering if he's the one (until he isn't) just to save time for the next candidate. Did I just say that? Candidate??! Oh how pedestrian and political my life has become.   Rewind. Start all over.  Rinse. Repeat. More Friday night failed cooking disasters (his poor tummy) then the left boot of fellowship from Yours Truly or oh-he-who-promised-to-call-but-didn't strikes again.  
Ain't nobody got time for this.

 But I am having a good hair life this year (unlike a few real candidates) and I haven't lost any emails (that I know of) and the ONLY reason I know that my bloglegs are returning as we blogspeak is that I continue to use unnecessary and annoying parentheses and run-on sentences galore while adjusting my wrinkled couch skirt in public. 
Yes. Finally.

My pencil skirt has seen a few washes ya know...

See ya soon.  

Join us for BlogBlast For Peace Nov 4

Like Our Facebook Page

Peace Store

Monday Mimisms ~ Happy Me

Shopping happy

I'm happy.
It has occurred to me lately that this is so. 
I don't share as many personal adventures on this blog as I used to.
That is by design. The world has changed enough in the past several years to make one a bit squeamish about digital over-sharing. It's forever. You can't erase what you wrote. Not really.
And besides, relationships are fluid. Thank goodness there is room for change, growth and forgiveness within them, as I've been shown this month in surprising ways. But not everything needs to be shared publicly. There is too much wiggle room for speculation and rumor from people who don't know you well.  So I've decided to tweak my penchant for over sharing.

And yet I know I have a circle of very personal friends here encouraging me and holding me up in the middle of a wide wide world of strangers. Thank you for that. 
So in case you're wondering....
I'd just like to say today that I am....

 

 Baby-holding happy

Got my cast off happy

Antique lamp shopping happy

 clothes shopping happy 

 to cut or not to cut happy (that's not really happy)
aka the endless discussions I have with my extremely opinionated and beauty-magazine schooled mother on the important global subject: Should Mimi cut her hair? I had to hide all the scissors in my mother's house.

 **She can't see me in this mirror** It's magic.

 hat-trying-on happy

wedding-dress-shopping-in-the-Goodwill-store-happy

no, I am not getting married

But that day was fun and there was no divorce involved. All I had to do was take off the dress. See how easy it is to make me happy?

mischievous happy
Happy
That's me. 
I hope you are too.


Join us for BlogBlast For Peace Nov 4

Like Our Facebook Page

Peace Store

Pin It

Just Peachy

I'm making a peach and blueberry deep dish pie tonight. With Stevia instead of sugar (for the diabetics of the world). I twisted an old recipe of my grandmother's into something "healthier."

I should have eaten it BEFORE I baked it.

 Hush Homer
 It is a dump pie. You literally dump the ingredients into a bowl and bake without stirring.
1 cup sugar (or Stevia)
1 cup flour (mixed with the sugar to prevent lumps)
1 cup milk
1 stick margarine
2 cups frozen or fresh fruit
Sprinkle of cinnamon if desired
Do NOT stir.

The crust will rise to the top. Let me rephrase. The crust is supposed to rise to the top.

 Epic fail. 
I don't think anything is supposed to be pink.
I'm eating it with my eyes closed. 

Join us for BlogBlast For Peace Nov 4

Like Our Facebook Page

Peace Store

Pin It

Oh yes, It was an epic lost.

Day 22 ~ July 30

Wednesday ~ Five Things I Am Grateful For Today (Yikes! I got home very late!)

1. The kind stranger man who went out of his way tonight to actually lead me back to the turn I missed when I got lost on the way to the church. (Now that was a crazy long sentence!)..... "Follow me!" he said. He didn't have to do that. But if he hadn't, I would have crossed a state line. Seriously. Oh yes, it was an epic lost.

2. Getting lost. On the way home. Again. Believe it. I met more than one kind stranger in the middle of the middle of the MIDDLE of nowhere. 

3. Finding this tree and this sunset in God's country

4. Realizing that unnerving twists and turns can have blessings too

5. Hearing my brother sing. That was worth getting lost for......

Goodnight Friends


Join us for BlogBlast For Peace Nov 4, 2014
Like Our Facebook Page

Peace Store

Pin It

Have You Ever Walked On a Dam?

Day 19 ~ July 27
Sunday
Five Things I Am Grateful For Today



1. Road trips. Even short ones.

2. Six cleaned-out kitchen drawers!!!! Oh, the junk.

3. Two empty Sarah McLachlan Mirrorball CD cases. I bought two just in case I lost one and there would always be one in the car. Of course, I lost both of them. WHERE are the CDs? Guess I'm just Building A Mystery......

4. The man on the dam. Realllly???! I almost screamed "Don't jump!!" until I realized he was fishing. Ya gotta love fishing to do something that dangerous.

5. That I didn't get arrested for stopping on the bridge to take these photos.
Don't tell the police, K?

Goodnight Friends

Join us for BlogBlast For Peace Nov 4, 2014

Like Our Facebook Page

Peace Store

Pin It

Monday Mimisms ~ Rottweiler Road

We were driving down this road on an impromptu adventure.  A dead-end gravel road. Rain. And Papa's homestead. We wanted to walk the tract of land, find our acreage posts and stakeout the lay of the land.  It is a perfect
spot for house building, that is, if you love privacy.  I have a secret wish that one day soon he will want to make this his home. 

It was good to drive into silence and mist, away from the pressures of traffic. Once I saw the wisp of a little ghost girl peeking out from behind a pine tree, but other than that, usually not a soul. "I don't remember the brush being this thick last time," I said, "and........  when out of the blue from the middle of nowhere two huge black rottweilers sprang from the woods and began chasing and barking around our slow-moving car. Oh great, we thought, there goes our plans for woodsy leisure time.  We followed them - or they followed us -  all the way to the end of the end of the road. They ran through a hole in the wiry fence and towards a faraway pond. Out of sight. But not out of mind.

Who do they belong to? Where did they go? Are we safe now?  When will they be back??! It's not like anyone except the ghost girl would hear us screaming for help.

I looked at him. 
He looked at me. 

"I am not getting out of this car."
"I'm not either," said he. 
So we decided to stop at the only house on the entire road and see if someone knew who they belonged to so that we could continue our task.  We would ask them to contain the dogs until we finished our walk. No such luck. No one at home and we were greeted by yet another HUGE barking dog with large teeth and a snarl.

"I'm not getting out of this car."
"Me neither," said he. 

But as we turned around and drove back towards the highway we began to talk about the land.  As if it breathed and beckoned a visit from us, his I-am-afraid-of-dogs mantra (and mine)

seemed to wane when we said hello to the flat sitting rock which offered a place to tell tired tales....and the curvy creek line that runs by the fence, all seemed to say 'Come in'.
One peek at a colorful bed of mushrooms and I forgot all about gnarly teeth and black barking dogs.

"Come on!" said the rain-soggy boy of mine. "I'll show you! It's just through that thicket."

"But what about the dogs?" 
"I'll protect you."

I stopped in my tracks.
"Do you have a gun?"
"Nope."
"Then how are you going to protect us?"
"With these, Mama," holding up two fists, at which point I bent over laughing at the rain-deluded boy.
"You're going to kill two rottweilers with your own two fists?"
"If I have to. Let's go."

You are so your mother's son.




I left the car running and the door cracked (just in case I had to make a mad dash and outrun a Rottweiler) and followed the adventuresome spirit.  Through the path he'd made in the woods we walked under the shelter of wet trees,  making a mental note of the location of quick climbing low-lying trunks, traveling farther and farther away from the car.  

Just ahead in the thickness of cool rain was my brown-eyed boy, giving me a look with my own brown eyes that I never, not once, could resist. He wanted to explore, to be in the woods, and I needed to follow.


 "Here we are," he proclaimed.



 And there it was. A lofty sanctuary. Hidden away under pines and spirits. 
He made it to the top in record time while my mind traveled back to his boyhood backyard willow tree - how fast he could scamper to the top and hide from me. 
How much he loved that tree. 

It was my turn. I set one hand. One foot. One hand. One foot......until...I stopped.

"Do you hear dogs barking?"
"Yes," he stated matter-of-factly.  It wasn't lost of either of us that he was safe and I was not.

"Son, my feet are not far enough off the ground for you to be smug at a time like this. Let's get back to the car!!!"

The branches were laughing. I know they were. 
"Those dogs are way over there. They won't come to us unless we're bleeding," said O Wise Boy in the safety of high bark.

"That only happens in the Jaws movies, son, and although it is raining cats and literally dogs, I do not want to test your blood theory today."

"I could sit here for hours, he said. It is so peaceful here, Mom. You can look down and see everything that's happening on the forest floor."

You DO have tree genes!  You are so your mother's son.

And suddenly it didn't matter. I knew that I would climb right up there with him and wait out the cavalry. It wouldn't be the first time we'd held onto each other in uncertain lifeboats. But today in the highness of leaves in the sanctuary of my Papa's shadow, I knew it was more important to stay than to run. It was his place and he wanted me in it.


 So I climbed into the space of rain where all was still and peaceful
knowing this day 
was about the walk

and the rain
and him




Join us for BlogBlast For Peace Nov 4, 2014

Like Our Facebook Page

Peace Store

Pin It