Kids do say the darnedest things as Art Linkletter proved with his popular sixties comedy hour. Interviewing five and six year olds gave the viewing public a howl of laughter with their knee jerk reactions. The innocent answers Mr. Linkletter plucked from the contestants and their gap tooth smiles was genuine reality TV.
The holidays bring an abundance of little people stories from the youth that is our familial future.
My three year old niece is a big fan of Super Heroes.
She can see right through Batman and his suspicious leather mask and sweeping black cape as she describes her observations to my sister.
"You know Nanna, Batman looks like a bad guy but really, he is very nice."
I wonder if she has noticed anything in particular about Robin.
A LTTLE BIT OF IVEY
Monday, December 5, 2011
Monday, November 21, 2011
WHO'S GONNA RIDE IN BACK WITH GRANNY?
Fresh fall air puts Chase in a good mood and he decides to buy us a new family vehicle. This is what happened.
I am not one to really care what kind of car I drive as long as it is safe and sound. I don't like the SUV types because they feel the wind more, so other than that, Chase has free rein to shop and buy whatever his heart desires.
After a couple weeks of Internet shopping, tonight after supper, he leaves to go pick up the new car, while I do dishes and eye my laptop, that is beckoning me to write.
Within the hour our daughter takes his call as he excitedly tells us to come outside. He will be driving up shortly in our new family vehicle, that is a complete surprise and his excitement is contagious. We immediately go out front and wait.
The three of us are lined up in the yard.
Our son, who is 6ft2inches, our daughter, just shy of 5ft8inches , and me 5ft6inches, eagerly awaiting our brand new ride.
All eyes are searching the street, then at once, we see a snow white pick up truck rolling our way in the early evening light.
While Chase turns the truck up our drive, I feel the puzzlement of my kids thought process, because it is the same as mine. There is a single cab. He bought a truck with a single cab. It is a beautiful new Ford 150.
We have four members in our family and more times than not, my mother rides with us. Our new family car, seats three.
As Chase emerges from the truck, our son speaks.
"Nice truck dad. Who's gonna ride in back with Granny?"
I am not one to really care what kind of car I drive as long as it is safe and sound. I don't like the SUV types because they feel the wind more, so other than that, Chase has free rein to shop and buy whatever his heart desires.
After a couple weeks of Internet shopping, tonight after supper, he leaves to go pick up the new car, while I do dishes and eye my laptop, that is beckoning me to write.
Within the hour our daughter takes his call as he excitedly tells us to come outside. He will be driving up shortly in our new family vehicle, that is a complete surprise and his excitement is contagious. We immediately go out front and wait.
The three of us are lined up in the yard.
Our son, who is 6ft2inches, our daughter, just shy of 5ft8inches , and me 5ft6inches, eagerly awaiting our brand new ride.
All eyes are searching the street, then at once, we see a snow white pick up truck rolling our way in the early evening light.
While Chase turns the truck up our drive, I feel the puzzlement of my kids thought process, because it is the same as mine. There is a single cab. He bought a truck with a single cab. It is a beautiful new Ford 150.
We have four members in our family and more times than not, my mother rides with us. Our new family car, seats three.
As Chase emerges from the truck, our son speaks.
"Nice truck dad. Who's gonna ride in back with Granny?"
Monday, November 14, 2011
BANGIN OUT THE BUMPER
I can bang out the dent in the bumper, but there ain't a hammer made, that is big enough to bang out what is wrong with him.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
THE DOG HEAD COUNT FOR THANKSGIVING
The road trip for Thanksgiving promises to be extra entertaining if we don't get this dog situation under control.
The whole family, teenager included, five dogs and my mother, in one vehicle?
This conjures up a colorful vision of mayhem on the Florida Turnpike.
The whole family, teenager included, five dogs and my mother, in one vehicle?
This conjures up a colorful vision of mayhem on the Florida Turnpike.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
SOMEBODIES GOTTA GO!
OK, at this point it is five dogs too many!
And somebodies gotta go.
Nobody's gonna get hurt, a no-kill shelter, or Pet Smart or something. But somebodies gotta go.
After four days and four hours of five dogs, the two sweet puppy visitors are still in the front yard. And the two that may be headed to the shelter, ain't walkin on four legs!
And somebodies gotta go.
Nobody's gonna get hurt, a no-kill shelter, or Pet Smart or something. But somebodies gotta go.
After four days and four hours of five dogs, the two sweet puppy visitors are still in the front yard. And the two that may be headed to the shelter, ain't walkin on four legs!
Saturday, November 5, 2011
I FIGURE IT'S BEST
Well today I took the rescued dogs to our handsome vet. They had no chip to trace the little cuties to their master.
None of the interested neighbors or relatives, welcomed them into their family as I had hoped.
Then, Chase came back home early from the Keys, with the big hairball, our Lab.
So, tonight, as I lock up the house, I figure it's best not to count anything walkin on four legs.
None of the interested neighbors or relatives, welcomed them into their family as I had hoped.
Then, Chase came back home early from the Keys, with the big hairball, our Lab.
So, tonight, as I lock up the house, I figure it's best not to count anything walkin on four legs.
Friday, November 4, 2011
THE WAY I FIGURE IT
I awoke early this morning to three dogs, one cat and five rabbits.
Well before noon, I had rescued two little, itty bitty dogs from a live and bustling pay-day Friday intersection, bringing the sum of dogs to five.
By early evening Chase took the elder mutt, Gracie Burns along with him to Key Largo.
As I lock up the house for the night we are at a grand sum total of four dogs, one cat and five rabbits. So, the way I figure it, I'm comin out ahead.
Well before noon, I had rescued two little, itty bitty dogs from a live and bustling pay-day Friday intersection, bringing the sum of dogs to five.
By early evening Chase took the elder mutt, Gracie Burns along with him to Key Largo.
As I lock up the house for the night we are at a grand sum total of four dogs, one cat and five rabbits. So, the way I figure it, I'm comin out ahead.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
ARE THOSE YOUR EYELASHES?
One evening in nineteen eighty five, I had to work. This is what happened.
Walking straight to the hot window and bright lights, another waitress saddles up beside me as we read the posted menu on the wall, in preparing for our night shift of waiting tables. Both of us are young and working hard. I smile and say hello. She frowns.
Focusing my attention back to the specials for tonight, I see her turn towards me from the corner of my eye, and feel Alicia take a swooping step closer. She is not a relative, not even friendly towards me, just ignored me to my face, and suddenly, she is standing way too close.
Don't breathe on me unless I want you to.
Then she demands. "Are those your eyelashes?" with a more disgusted tone, I have never heard.
Taken aback by her rude and imposing self, my wit through Auntie's bloodline saves me.
Batting my eyes in slow motion, I turn to her and smile. "Well, sweetie if they ain't mine whose are they? Sometimes, I have to curl them to see where I am going."
Walking straight to the hot window and bright lights, another waitress saddles up beside me as we read the posted menu on the wall, in preparing for our night shift of waiting tables. Both of us are young and working hard. I smile and say hello. She frowns.
Focusing my attention back to the specials for tonight, I see her turn towards me from the corner of my eye, and feel Alicia take a swooping step closer. She is not a relative, not even friendly towards me, just ignored me to my face, and suddenly, she is standing way too close.
Don't breathe on me unless I want you to.
Then she demands. "Are those your eyelashes?" with a more disgusted tone, I have never heard.
Taken aback by her rude and imposing self, my wit through Auntie's bloodline saves me.
Batting my eyes in slow motion, I turn to her and smile. "Well, sweetie if they ain't mine whose are they? Sometimes, I have to curl them to see where I am going."
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
A REDNECK
Somebody just told me to use an Alphanumeric.
Well first off, I had to grab the dictionary.
Secondly, I can guaran-dam-tee-ya, a redneck would never use that word.
If you want me to use abc's and numbers together just tell me.
Well first off, I had to grab the dictionary.
Secondly, I can guaran-dam-tee-ya, a redneck would never use that word.
If you want me to use abc's and numbers together just tell me.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
CANDY APPLES
The smooth red candy is clear, and inviting my mouth to taste the sweetness, then crunch through to tangy green apple, waiting below.
The first batch my daughters made were sticky and the second batch was burned. These are oh, so, just right.
I simply adore candy apples. This is my idea of a darned good piece of fruit. I have two brother-in-laws that scrape icing off of cake, because they want just a little cake and alot of icing, like me. I bet they think this is an appropriate breakfast fruit too.
The first batch my daughters made were sticky and the second batch was burned. These are oh, so, just right.
I simply adore candy apples. This is my idea of a darned good piece of fruit. I have two brother-in-laws that scrape icing off of cake, because they want just a little cake and alot of icing, like me. I bet they think this is an appropriate breakfast fruit too.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
THE WATERING HOLE
I ain't bringin that horse back to the watering hole, much less try and make him drink it. He's been there. Still, he was only on the edge and never drank, only sipped the water. He wasn't thirsty.
He knows where it is and when he gets thirsty he'll want a drink.
Then, he can look for a new hole, an old hole or the watering hole he only sipped at, but is oh so good.
He knows where it is and when he gets thirsty he'll want a drink.
Then, he can look for a new hole, an old hole or the watering hole he only sipped at, but is oh so good.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
MOTHER IN LAWS
When it comes to mother in laws, I've got experience.
I had the best and now have the worst!
My first mother in law was genuine, kind, helpful and sincere. Her beautiful face has a soul of depth, behind it. I learned more from her, then my own mother.
The one I have now can't be too far away in her selfish and inappropriate makeup. Here is one little tidbit for you to imagine in its entirety, if possible.
When my son was almost five, after over 24 hours of grueling labor, I delivered twin baby girls. My mother in law calls me.
Her thoughts and advice were strange, like her.
She was calling to advise me of something that was none of her business and way out of order. This is what she said.
"Ivey Mae make sure that Embry sleeps in his own bed now, so that he will have plenty of privacy to masturbate."
Is your jaw on the floor? Damn, I mistook her call to be of the congratulatory type. This is the kind of stuff that comes out of her mouth on a whim. Can you imagine? The longer I know her, the more I understand.
Shoot, she makes my own mother look completely stable.
I had the best and now have the worst!
My first mother in law was genuine, kind, helpful and sincere. Her beautiful face has a soul of depth, behind it. I learned more from her, then my own mother.
The one I have now can't be too far away in her selfish and inappropriate makeup. Here is one little tidbit for you to imagine in its entirety, if possible.
When my son was almost five, after over 24 hours of grueling labor, I delivered twin baby girls. My mother in law calls me.
Her thoughts and advice were strange, like her.
She was calling to advise me of something that was none of her business and way out of order. This is what she said.
"Ivey Mae make sure that Embry sleeps in his own bed now, so that he will have plenty of privacy to masturbate."
Is your jaw on the floor? Damn, I mistook her call to be of the congratulatory type. This is the kind of stuff that comes out of her mouth on a whim. Can you imagine? The longer I know her, the more I understand.
Shoot, she makes my own mother look completely stable.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
BUBBLE GUM ON THE RAZOR
As the water line rises and steam comfortably fills the luxurious room, I slowly sink into the hot bath with a sigh. I simply adore a nice hotel room. After a couple minutes of soaking, I reach for the razor lying on the side of the tub. To my humor and surprise, I see the yellow handle of the razor blade is sporting a piece of bright pink bubble gum.
My instant reaction is to call my girls in, and determine who the culprit is. Which daughter put their gum on the razor?
It had to be a girl. If one of my son's was finished with gum and had no place to stick it, he would just swallow it. But on second thought, I pause.
Did I do this? Hhmmm, only time will tell, as I shave with the bubblegum razor and place it back on the side of the tub.
I got my answer as each daughter drew her nightly bath, with the same aghast statement that followed.
"Mom! Somebody put bubblegum on the razor!"
My instant reaction is to call my girls in, and determine who the culprit is. Which daughter put their gum on the razor?
It had to be a girl. If one of my son's was finished with gum and had no place to stick it, he would just swallow it. But on second thought, I pause.
Did I do this? Hhmmm, only time will tell, as I shave with the bubblegum razor and place it back on the side of the tub.
I got my answer as each daughter drew her nightly bath, with the same aghast statement that followed.
"Mom! Somebody put bubblegum on the razor!"
Monday, October 17, 2011
I LOVE
I love a man, in golf pants, with golfed shoulders.
Ain't nothin better.
Well, maybe one thing,
a man in jeans and a cowboy hat.
OK. Maybe two things, a man in jeans and a cowboy hat, or a man wearin nothin at all.
Ain't nothin better.
Well, maybe one thing,
a man in jeans and a cowboy hat.
OK. Maybe two things, a man in jeans and a cowboy hat, or a man wearin nothin at all.
Monday, October 10, 2011
WADDLING AINT THE BEST WAY
I come from a long line of waddlers. Serious waddlers.
This movement of going side to side while walking looks especially comical when a waddler is attempting to run. Because the physical dynamics needed to advance forward with speed, are stifled from bobbling east to west, at the same time.
Watching a waddler like me run is remarkably funny, because at a distance you would think I am moving fast. My arms are swinging and my torso held together with appropriate placement of my legs. Somehow in my genetics though, I sway to one side or the other before I land.
So I only go half as far, as a non-waddler. You know, a normal person
Waddling is just not the best way to walk. We take up too much space on the sidewalk and waste energy, ducks have it worse than me though.
My childhood home is on the shores of a huge lake, complete with free roaming neighborhood dogs, cats, kids and ducks.
And when it comes to road-kill, trust me, the numbers are not looking good for the ducks.
Waddling ain't the best way, to cross a street.
This movement of going side to side while walking looks especially comical when a waddler is attempting to run. Because the physical dynamics needed to advance forward with speed, are stifled from bobbling east to west, at the same time.
Watching a waddler like me run is remarkably funny, because at a distance you would think I am moving fast. My arms are swinging and my torso held together with appropriate placement of my legs. Somehow in my genetics though, I sway to one side or the other before I land.
So I only go half as far, as a non-waddler. You know, a normal person
Waddling is just not the best way to walk. We take up too much space on the sidewalk and waste energy, ducks have it worse than me though.
My childhood home is on the shores of a huge lake, complete with free roaming neighborhood dogs, cats, kids and ducks.
And when it comes to road-kill, trust me, the numbers are not looking good for the ducks.
Waddling ain't the best way, to cross a street.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
THE TOOTHPASTE
What doesn't he understand? And moreover why doesn't he understand?
With at least twenty five years under our belt with exactly the same routine,for our family dental health, where is the dang-blasted confusion?
Every time I brush my teeth I place the toothpaste on the shelf, away from the flushing toilet. Every time Chase brushes his teeth, he puts the toothpaste on the counter. Not a right or wrong answer, I suppose, for this ridiculous marital dance. Still, the sequence of events is exactly the same, year in and year out. I place it in the same spot, on the same shelf, time and time again.
Yet, like clockwork I hear a mumbled "I don't understand" while he searches for the toothpaste, every single night before bed. Sometimes he gets really frustrated and I will watch him go from one bathroom to the next, looking for toothpaste, where it again, is on a shelf for sanitary purposes, not hidden for inconvenient use.
Why can't he find it? It ain't a cross-word puzzle. It's right there.
With at least twenty five years under our belt with exactly the same routine,for our family dental health, where is the dang-blasted confusion?
Every time I brush my teeth I place the toothpaste on the shelf, away from the flushing toilet. Every time Chase brushes his teeth, he puts the toothpaste on the counter. Not a right or wrong answer, I suppose, for this ridiculous marital dance. Still, the sequence of events is exactly the same, year in and year out. I place it in the same spot, on the same shelf, time and time again.
Yet, like clockwork I hear a mumbled "I don't understand" while he searches for the toothpaste, every single night before bed. Sometimes he gets really frustrated and I will watch him go from one bathroom to the next, looking for toothpaste, where it again, is on a shelf for sanitary purposes, not hidden for inconvenient use.
Why can't he find it? It ain't a cross-word puzzle. It's right there.
Friday, October 7, 2011
TACKY
Walking down to mother's house, I want to get her opinion of which necklace to wear with my new suit, my book signing clothes.
She is out front and unloading groceries from her car, as she turns and smiles when she hears my approaching foot steps.
"Good morning mother." I tell her, then lean in to kiss her cheek.
"Good morning" she pleasantly replies. "Doesn't this fall air feel wonderful! I hope we have a cold winter."
"Mom which necklace do you think looks better with this blouse?" I ask her while placing a silver chain around my neck, and holding up a similar version for comparison.
She stops and looks. It doesn't take her long.
"They're both tacky."
It's Friday morning and apparently we both got a good nights sleep.
"Oh good." I reply, smiling back. "I have two viable options."
She is out front and unloading groceries from her car, as she turns and smiles when she hears my approaching foot steps.
"Good morning mother." I tell her, then lean in to kiss her cheek.
"Good morning" she pleasantly replies. "Doesn't this fall air feel wonderful! I hope we have a cold winter."
"Mom which necklace do you think looks better with this blouse?" I ask her while placing a silver chain around my neck, and holding up a similar version for comparison.
She stops and looks. It doesn't take her long.
"They're both tacky."
It's Friday morning and apparently we both got a good nights sleep.
"Oh good." I reply, smiling back. "I have two viable options."
Thursday, October 6, 2011
THE TWO TONED GOLF SHOES
Thunder broils in the distant background and persistent humidity is wrapping his truck in a dense blanket of fog, from the eager breath between us. The day is nearly past as the sun winks goodbye and dips beneath the horizon.
My brown and white shoes press up against the glass as we take this kiss, much farther than our last. Forbidden passion breaks the surface of too many years apart in being, and our touch instantly erases, the line of an honorable distance. We can't keep our hands off of each other and don't even try.
Then the night appears and as in a moment, the two-toned golf shoes are the only thing, I have left on.
My brown and white shoes press up against the glass as we take this kiss, much farther than our last. Forbidden passion breaks the surface of too many years apart in being, and our touch instantly erases, the line of an honorable distance. We can't keep our hands off of each other and don't even try.
Then the night appears and as in a moment, the two-toned golf shoes are the only thing, I have left on.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
AUNTIE WANTS TO TRICK OR TREAT
The doorbell rings, alerting us to the pizza delivery man as the house is a flurry with Halloween excitement. Wings and glitter, vampire makeup and fake blood and long black nails scatter the table, as my Aunt is patiently braiding our little Indian's hair.
Stepping back to view her handy work, Auntie declares her thought process.
"You know, I've been thinkin. I want to trick or treat. Heck, if homosexuals can get married and our country is borrowing money from the Chinese, grownups should be allowed to trick or treat."
Stepping back to view her handy work, Auntie declares her thought process.
"You know, I've been thinkin. I want to trick or treat. Heck, if homosexuals can get married and our country is borrowing money from the Chinese, grownups should be allowed to trick or treat."
Saturday, October 1, 2011
RINGIN IN MY EARS
Swinging back and forth in the hammock I am no where to be found as my mind wallows in worry. Staring at the clear blue horizon my focus is beyond the twisting mangroves, miles unto the ocean.
Vacation or not, I simply can not relax. I know something is terribly terribly wrong. Checking for the countless time over the last couple of weeks, I close my eyes, while placing a finger in each ear to drown outside noise. Yep, no doubt about it, ringin in my ear.
Then, something snaps me from my desperate worry and I open my eyes to see Dad standing on the top step, leading from the house. He is staring at me in concern.
"Ivey Mae, why don't you just call the doctor. Leave the babies here with us and drive back to Miami. Have you ear checked out and then you can have some fun. "
As usual Dad is right.
The appointment reveals a few things. Bad news is I have tinnitus in one ear and the condition will most likely stay there for the rest of my life. Good news is, this is a very mild case, should not worsen and my hearing is excellent. The latter is really positive info because once I get used to it, my good hearing should mask the slight distant ringing.
So for the drive home, I am most certainly relieved and ready to fully participate in the family vacation. Here I come. And like always, I call Lucy Lou.
"Hello" she answers, sounding just like me, and all of our other sisters. I quickly recant the doctor visit, to this reply,
"God Ivey Mae, why do you do this to yourself? Must you insist on imagining the absolute worst first? How can this be good for you? So you convince yourself you have a brain tumor and are facing a horribly painful and crippling end of life over something much less complicated and life threatening."
"That's true. That's exactly what I thought. Why else would I have ringing in only one ear? I thought if it was simple in would be in both ears."
"OK, so now that you found out you will just have ringing in your ear the rest of your life.......you feel better."
"Right."
Vacation or not, I simply can not relax. I know something is terribly terribly wrong. Checking for the countless time over the last couple of weeks, I close my eyes, while placing a finger in each ear to drown outside noise. Yep, no doubt about it, ringin in my ear.
Then, something snaps me from my desperate worry and I open my eyes to see Dad standing on the top step, leading from the house. He is staring at me in concern.
"Ivey Mae, why don't you just call the doctor. Leave the babies here with us and drive back to Miami. Have you ear checked out and then you can have some fun. "
As usual Dad is right.
The appointment reveals a few things. Bad news is I have tinnitus in one ear and the condition will most likely stay there for the rest of my life. Good news is, this is a very mild case, should not worsen and my hearing is excellent. The latter is really positive info because once I get used to it, my good hearing should mask the slight distant ringing.
So for the drive home, I am most certainly relieved and ready to fully participate in the family vacation. Here I come. And like always, I call Lucy Lou.
"Hello" she answers, sounding just like me, and all of our other sisters. I quickly recant the doctor visit, to this reply,
"God Ivey Mae, why do you do this to yourself? Must you insist on imagining the absolute worst first? How can this be good for you? So you convince yourself you have a brain tumor and are facing a horribly painful and crippling end of life over something much less complicated and life threatening."
"That's true. That's exactly what I thought. Why else would I have ringing in only one ear? I thought if it was simple in would be in both ears."
"OK, so now that you found out you will just have ringing in your ear the rest of your life.......you feel better."
"Right."
Saturday, September 24, 2011
AUTUMN AIR
The grey clouds are dense highest up, edged in white fluff, lying on top of clear baby blue sky. Wind gusts surge the palm trees and drops of rain are picking up speed, as they land on my writing pad. The summer storms came late this year, but one more crack of thunder and I will reluctantly be forced inside.
Fall is brand new with the sun setting earlier. My favorite days are finally in sight. The ones with long nights.
Fall is brand new with the sun setting earlier. My favorite days are finally in sight. The ones with long nights.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
RELATED SISTERS
One day my sister told me a funny story about her comical self. This is what happened.
It was a Saturday and she was forgoing the full makeup routine to do some errands for mother after her knee replacement surgery.
Just before running into the grocery store, Lorraine looks in the mirror and decides a little makeup would prudent. She dots both of her under eyes with whitish concealer. Carefully, she creates an upside down arch from one side to the opposite corner of each eye.
Now, typical for both of us sisters, in a heart beat she gets distracted, and forgets to blend it in. The tiny white circles dry exactly where she placed them, beneath her eyes.
Then she proceeds to shop under the harsh fluorescent lights in the grocery store. Unbeknown st to her, the unfinished eye makeup is welcoming lots of extremely puzzled looks from strangers.
It wasn't until she walks through Mom's front door, bags in hand, that she realizes why the other shoppers were staring. As we all know mother does not mix her words.
"Lorraine I appreciate your help so very much but you look ridiculous. What are you wearing? Is that a shirt or a necklace? And go look in the mirror there is something wrong with your makeup."
Well after last night, if we didn't know I was related to my sister, we do now.
We spent the evening at an exclusive club. Smoky lights morph their colors while masked silhouettes fuel the imagination and sexy tunes play a steady beat in my head. Shortly after arriving, Chase went to buy cigars and I freshen up my kisser.
I pop a mint, then carefully line my lips, sans glasses and mirror, while lounging on the low lit couch.
Three hours later I look in the mirror after arriving home and turn to Chase in utter disbelief, and stare.
"What?" He says, instantly defensive by the scowl in my eyes. Turns out I had carefully lined my lips with a brown eyebrow pencil.
I thought people were staring because I looked hot.
Wrong again.
It was a Saturday and she was forgoing the full makeup routine to do some errands for mother after her knee replacement surgery.
Just before running into the grocery store, Lorraine looks in the mirror and decides a little makeup would prudent. She dots both of her under eyes with whitish concealer. Carefully, she creates an upside down arch from one side to the opposite corner of each eye.
Now, typical for both of us sisters, in a heart beat she gets distracted, and forgets to blend it in. The tiny white circles dry exactly where she placed them, beneath her eyes.
Then she proceeds to shop under the harsh fluorescent lights in the grocery store. Unbeknown st to her, the unfinished eye makeup is welcoming lots of extremely puzzled looks from strangers.
It wasn't until she walks through Mom's front door, bags in hand, that she realizes why the other shoppers were staring. As we all know mother does not mix her words.
"Lorraine I appreciate your help so very much but you look ridiculous. What are you wearing? Is that a shirt or a necklace? And go look in the mirror there is something wrong with your makeup."
Well after last night, if we didn't know I was related to my sister, we do now.
We spent the evening at an exclusive club. Smoky lights morph their colors while masked silhouettes fuel the imagination and sexy tunes play a steady beat in my head. Shortly after arriving, Chase went to buy cigars and I freshen up my kisser.
I pop a mint, then carefully line my lips, sans glasses and mirror, while lounging on the low lit couch.
Three hours later I look in the mirror after arriving home and turn to Chase in utter disbelief, and stare.
"What?" He says, instantly defensive by the scowl in my eyes. Turns out I had carefully lined my lips with a brown eyebrow pencil.
I thought people were staring because I looked hot.
Wrong again.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
THE WHITE FLAG
She is simply waiving the white flag and he thinks it is a second honeymoon. Oh brother.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
FORGETTIN YOUR SHOES
Mom is always puzzled when people forget their shoes at her house after a party.
She may have a point with this one.
She may have a point with this one.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
DON'T LET HER EYES GET TO YOU
The eyes really are the window to the soul, revealing a lofty glance at our essence. Eyes consider themselves. They watch the world through a varying light of day and again when the moon glows over deep dark shades of night.
Others behold us, when they look us in the eyes.
I was barely five years old, freckle faced and interested the first time I heard about my eyes. This is what happened.
Mother wants all of us children to be musically inclined. She asks dad to buy a piano and of course he does. The piano arrives in a huge box, smelling of new pressed cardboard and excitement. Mother has to open both of the front doors, to get it in. I watch from the above balcony in delight. Cool, a piano.
The following Tuesday afternoon we have to get dressed up after school. Not cool. Then me and my sisters Lucy and Lorraine pile in the green Buick, for the ride to A House of Melody.
All three of us will be taking privately tutored piano and voice lessons.
Sitting side by side in the green Buick our legs look the same all brown as berries donning white bobby socks and clean Maryjane patent leather shoes, may as well be going to Sunday school. Not sure why Mother has us so gussied up, oh well.
Driving the tree lined streets of Coral Gables we soon arrive at the pretty brick building then follow Mother inside and quietly watch as she greets the owner. After a few moments of chat my sisters go off with their teachers and Mother waits with me because my music instructor is still with a student.
Trying my best to sit still and wait patiently, (fifty years later still not my strong suit) I hear a guitar strumming down the hall Nice.
Soon, a lovely woman in a flowing pastel dress and piled high blonde hair appears. Soft spoken and kind, my Mother introduces me.
" Miss. Elizabeth please meet my daughter Ivey Mae." The young woman gently smiles in return and reaches to take my hand.
"Hello Ivey Mae. How old are you?" she asks.
"I am five." I say in return.
Saying nothing else, she stares at me and starts to smile bigger, as I watch her in the same. Then I hear Mother say,
"Don't let her eyes get to you."
Others behold us, when they look us in the eyes.
I was barely five years old, freckle faced and interested the first time I heard about my eyes. This is what happened.
Mother wants all of us children to be musically inclined. She asks dad to buy a piano and of course he does. The piano arrives in a huge box, smelling of new pressed cardboard and excitement. Mother has to open both of the front doors, to get it in. I watch from the above balcony in delight. Cool, a piano.
The following Tuesday afternoon we have to get dressed up after school. Not cool. Then me and my sisters Lucy and Lorraine pile in the green Buick, for the ride to A House of Melody.
All three of us will be taking privately tutored piano and voice lessons.
Sitting side by side in the green Buick our legs look the same all brown as berries donning white bobby socks and clean Maryjane patent leather shoes, may as well be going to Sunday school. Not sure why Mother has us so gussied up, oh well.
Driving the tree lined streets of Coral Gables we soon arrive at the pretty brick building then follow Mother inside and quietly watch as she greets the owner. After a few moments of chat my sisters go off with their teachers and Mother waits with me because my music instructor is still with a student.
Trying my best to sit still and wait patiently, (fifty years later still not my strong suit) I hear a guitar strumming down the hall Nice.
Soon, a lovely woman in a flowing pastel dress and piled high blonde hair appears. Soft spoken and kind, my Mother introduces me.
" Miss. Elizabeth please meet my daughter Ivey Mae." The young woman gently smiles in return and reaches to take my hand.
"Hello Ivey Mae. How old are you?" she asks.
"I am five." I say in return.
Saying nothing else, she stares at me and starts to smile bigger, as I watch her in the same. Then I hear Mother say,
"Don't let her eyes get to you."
Thursday, September 8, 2011
GOLDEN YEARS
Don't tell me it isn't fantastic to be middle aged.
I learned the moon is a star.
I saw my first shooting star.
And finally. I met a man I don't think is attractive.
I learned the moon is a star.
I saw my first shooting star.
And finally. I met a man I don't think is attractive.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
THE INFAMOUS ROADTRIP-Part one
One special spring a few years back, our family air was marked in young love. My parents first Grandchild got engaged and we were thrilled.
Her bridal shower was three hours away in another county. As to be expected the McFarland women gathered up for the exciting road trip, that now stands infamous in our related history. A story to be told time and time again, I'm sure. Future generations of McFarland relatives will here about 'The Vomit Wagon' and 'The Hurl Hotel'.
And this is just recounting sentiments of the return trip home.
Here is what happened.
My mother is the architect of any family deal, being a holiday, social gathering, party and road trip.
She is the architect, director, supervisor, accountant and overall foreman of all deals. So each one of us in my family, young and old, cradle to grave understands whose boss. Mom is. And look, in close quarters and a moving vehicle it's just a darn good idea to follow her rules, no matter how old we get.
We are to be at the Pink House at 7 o'clock, sharp. Instructions are very specific. Mine in particular are,
"Ivey Mae please do not have your tits hanging out. And whatever you do, do not put on any of that god awful stinkin stuff you wear. Have the girls dressed decent and be on time. No excuses. Oh and yal'll are not to bring any of those animals. Leave all leashes and dogs at home. You can go back to that mess as soon as we return."
Her bridal shower was three hours away in another county. As to be expected the McFarland women gathered up for the exciting road trip, that now stands infamous in our related history. A story to be told time and time again, I'm sure. Future generations of McFarland relatives will here about 'The Vomit Wagon' and 'The Hurl Hotel'.
And this is just recounting sentiments of the return trip home.
Here is what happened.
My mother is the architect of any family deal, being a holiday, social gathering, party and road trip.
She is the architect, director, supervisor, accountant and overall foreman of all deals. So each one of us in my family, young and old, cradle to grave understands whose boss. Mom is. And look, in close quarters and a moving vehicle it's just a darn good idea to follow her rules, no matter how old we get.
We are to be at the Pink House at 7 o'clock, sharp. Instructions are very specific. Mine in particular are,
"Ivey Mae please do not have your tits hanging out. And whatever you do, do not put on any of that god awful stinkin stuff you wear. Have the girls dressed decent and be on time. No excuses. Oh and yal'll are not to bring any of those animals. Leave all leashes and dogs at home. You can go back to that mess as soon as we return."
A TWANG
It's gonna be one of them.
All I know as a given is, there has got to be a twang in there somewhere.
All I know as a given is, there has got to be a twang in there somewhere.
Monday, September 5, 2011
I'M SICK
"Hello mother."
"What?" She obnoxiously replies.
Oh brother. "Whats wrong?" I sincerely ask, to another obnoxious reply.
"I'm sick. Don't bother me." and she hangs up the phone.
She sounds mad not sick. Uh oh somebody is in big trouble and I get the feeling it isn't me.
For a change.
"What?" She obnoxiously replies.
Oh brother. "Whats wrong?" I sincerely ask, to another obnoxious reply.
"I'm sick. Don't bother me." and she hangs up the phone.
She sounds mad not sick. Uh oh somebody is in big trouble and I get the feeling it isn't me.
For a change.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
THE JADED WAKE
The jaded wake is sensitive for me to hear as the afternoon gains speed. Oh my. Time is painfully unfolding my damage, in his clear green eyes. Look what I have done. God please forgive me.
I knew it was there, but am saddened to realize the extent of marred emotion inside the man I will always love. Then I gently tell him,
"Apparently I'm not the only one that's jaded." He stops talking to stare at me. We say nothing for a moment as I watch him think. Then he aptly replies.
"What?" with the impact of a sudden truth that will echo, deep within the private corners if his mind.
I wait longer in the fragile silence.
Taking my hand in both of his, he says, "let's go" and leads me outside into the sun, that is trying to outwear the dark storm clouds brewing.
I knew it was there, but am saddened to realize the extent of marred emotion inside the man I will always love. Then I gently tell him,
"Apparently I'm not the only one that's jaded." He stops talking to stare at me. We say nothing for a moment as I watch him think. Then he aptly replies.
"What?" with the impact of a sudden truth that will echo, deep within the private corners if his mind.
I wait longer in the fragile silence.
Taking my hand in both of his, he says, "let's go" and leads me outside into the sun, that is trying to outwear the dark storm clouds brewing.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
HIS BABY
This year he is a father. This year he is in love, with his baby. I've seen his excitement before.
Walking through the house I slowly follow his lead, taking in, all that I can around us. His home feels foreign as his intimate voice echoes off the tile floor. He sure looks the same, causing that old and loyal ache to surge my heart.
Then, there she is. The baby we will never have. I swallow hard as he leans over the playpen's wooden edge and gently lifts her high, but the child is staring at me. He giggles with pride as she bears her blue eyes into mine. His daughter is beholding me as if she knows. She feels, what we are trying to hide.
Instinctively I take her in my arms and she glides into the fold of my elbow. Her warm body exposes those years of loss, pulling tears into my eyes. "Look at that" he says with complete surprise. "She doesn't usually let people hold her."
The tiny little girl lingers all her concentration on me, as I begin to wonder.
"What would she say if she came home and saw me holding her?"
"Nothin. Probably just start screaming."
Walking through the house I slowly follow his lead, taking in, all that I can around us. His home feels foreign as his intimate voice echoes off the tile floor. He sure looks the same, causing that old and loyal ache to surge my heart.
Then, there she is. The baby we will never have. I swallow hard as he leans over the playpen's wooden edge and gently lifts her high, but the child is staring at me. He giggles with pride as she bears her blue eyes into mine. His daughter is beholding me as if she knows. She feels, what we are trying to hide.
Instinctively I take her in my arms and she glides into the fold of my elbow. Her warm body exposes those years of loss, pulling tears into my eyes. "Look at that" he says with complete surprise. "She doesn't usually let people hold her."
The tiny little girl lingers all her concentration on me, as I begin to wonder.
"What would she say if she came home and saw me holding her?"
"Nothin. Probably just start screaming."
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
BUT YOU HAVE GLITTER ON
Looking at Ivey Mae he softly asks "Where did you say you were going?"
She quickly responds as her seductive green eyes twinkle by the candle's glow.
"To the Library. Who knew that would come in handy at my age."
Then with a roguish smile, all his own, he twangs
"But you have glitter on."
She quickly responds as her seductive green eyes twinkle by the candle's glow.
"To the Library. Who knew that would come in handy at my age."
Then with a roguish smile, all his own, he twangs
"But you have glitter on."
Sunday, August 28, 2011
SALTY DOGS
As the boat picks up speed the salty wind whips at us from the open bow of the boat. This being the maiden cruise for all three mutts, excitement is high.
Ellie Mae is petrified with slight room for intrigue. Gracie Burns is thrilled. Her tail has not stopped wagging since we left the dock. Now the third dog is a recent rescue and she is really something.
Rooster is intense. Her sweet brown eyes stare out into the clear turquoise water and her nose twitches with each deep breath. She is confused and yet so obviously the smartest one, while her little paws pull through the air as if she is swimming.
She thinks it would be prudent to dog paddle, even though she knows she is not swimming. Rooey is so darned smart, she simply understands when you are surrounded by water, whatever the circumstances be, a little dog paddling is a good idea.
Ellie Mae is petrified with slight room for intrigue. Gracie Burns is thrilled. Her tail has not stopped wagging since we left the dock. Now the third dog is a recent rescue and she is really something.
Rooster is intense. Her sweet brown eyes stare out into the clear turquoise water and her nose twitches with each deep breath. She is confused and yet so obviously the smartest one, while her little paws pull through the air as if she is swimming.
She thinks it would be prudent to dog paddle, even though she knows she is not swimming. Rooey is so darned smart, she simply understands when you are surrounded by water, whatever the circumstances be, a little dog paddling is a good idea.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
THE BASTARD
After five moribund months I have come to the sorrowful realization that the bastard killed my brother in law and killed my sister.
I hope the bastard is enjoying his prison food. I'm sure it tastes better than a feeding tube coming out of his stomach, like her husband had for four and a half years before his heartbreaking life ended.
There is no sorry.
Bastard.
I hope the bastard is enjoying his prison food. I'm sure it tastes better than a feeding tube coming out of his stomach, like her husband had for four and a half years before his heartbreaking life ended.
There is no sorry.
Bastard.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
MAN TIME
His dark brow starts furrowing and I know the reason why.
" Oh don't worry Chase we won't stay the whole time. I don't care about your man time."
"Yea that's right I need my man time." he quickly spouts back.
And I am just as tart. "I need my man time too."
" Oh don't worry Chase we won't stay the whole time. I don't care about your man time."
"Yea that's right I need my man time." he quickly spouts back.
And I am just as tart. "I need my man time too."
Friday, August 12, 2011
A BALLOON DOESN'T HAVE ANY WRINKLES
Lucy Lou, Rosemary, Lorraine and I are hushed, very still and straining our ears to hear. Lying on our bellies at the top balcony we hear mother and dad but can't be seen.
They are not arguing per say but having a complete disagreement on something serious my mom wants to do. And dad is dead set against it. Every time he replies back to her all my sisters give me the fish eye because I start cracking up.
My mother wants plastic surgery.
She is a very young middle age and certainly does not need it. She wants it. She was reading about Joan Rivers in People magazine and is stuck in her head.
As they go back and forth my father's common outlook and balance make clear sense to me. Then he leaves the room with final words.
"Slim. You don't need a face lift. You're a good lookin woman. You just need to loose about a hundred pounds or so and you will be fine. You don't have any wrinkles."
Well, mom did it anyway. My aunt takes her and brings her home. The day after surgery dad returns from a business trip and is horrified to see mother bandaged up, sore and hurting.
After mother is asleep in their room dad takes us out for roasted prime rib. Lucy brings up the subject of the face-lift. Dad looks at her and says.
"That sure looks painful what she did to herself. Doesn't it? And it makes no sense what so ever. I don't want to hurt her feelins but for corns sake!
A balloon does not have any wrinkles!"
They are not arguing per say but having a complete disagreement on something serious my mom wants to do. And dad is dead set against it. Every time he replies back to her all my sisters give me the fish eye because I start cracking up.
My mother wants plastic surgery.
She is a very young middle age and certainly does not need it. She wants it. She was reading about Joan Rivers in People magazine and is stuck in her head.
As they go back and forth my father's common outlook and balance make clear sense to me. Then he leaves the room with final words.
"Slim. You don't need a face lift. You're a good lookin woman. You just need to loose about a hundred pounds or so and you will be fine. You don't have any wrinkles."
Well, mom did it anyway. My aunt takes her and brings her home. The day after surgery dad returns from a business trip and is horrified to see mother bandaged up, sore and hurting.
After mother is asleep in their room dad takes us out for roasted prime rib. Lucy brings up the subject of the face-lift. Dad looks at her and says.
"That sure looks painful what she did to herself. Doesn't it? And it makes no sense what so ever. I don't want to hurt her feelins but for corns sake!
A balloon does not have any wrinkles!"
AWKWARD
The air-conditioner roars on as he sleeps soundly next to the wall.
Watching the deep plum sky through the blinded window as the morning comes alive, I absorb the deep extent of the wreckage. What a long sad night.
He feels awkward. Like writing with my left hand.
Watching the deep plum sky through the blinded window as the morning comes alive, I absorb the deep extent of the wreckage. What a long sad night.
He feels awkward. Like writing with my left hand.
Monday, August 8, 2011
SEE YOU IN THE FUNNIES
We have Sunday supper with my dad's parents every week. At four o'clock we get dressed and pile into our nineteen sixty nine green Buick for the five mile drive.
I love going there. Grandmaw always has biscuits, Little Debbies and ice cold coca-cola in small glass bottles.
And each week, soon after we eat Grandpaw tells everybody good night. He is a big believer in early to bed early to rise.
This Sunday he gets up from his chair and slowly starts down the hall. "Good night ya'll. See you in the funnies." He tells us, then Grandmaw replies.
"Goodnight Grandpaw. See you in the mornin." Grandpaw turns in a huff trying to pretend he is aggravated. He winks at us kids and says "Grandmaw! Don't you dare threaten me!" And we all begin to laugh.
I love going there. Grandmaw always has biscuits, Little Debbies and ice cold coca-cola in small glass bottles.
And each week, soon after we eat Grandpaw tells everybody good night. He is a big believer in early to bed early to rise.
This Sunday he gets up from his chair and slowly starts down the hall. "Good night ya'll. See you in the funnies." He tells us, then Grandmaw replies.
"Goodnight Grandpaw. See you in the mornin." Grandpaw turns in a huff trying to pretend he is aggravated. He winks at us kids and says "Grandmaw! Don't you dare threaten me!" And we all begin to laugh.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
"HIDE THE KNIFES"
I love my room at the top of the stairs. But dang it! The stupid doorbell is so loud from here. Chiming bells pitch high and low, echoing off the steep vaulted ceiling. My parents dinner guests have arrived.
Looking down I see Rosemary going to answer the door.
Mom is headed to the kitchen and passes dad on his way outback to the barbecue. In his typical calm and sweet southern voice he says "Hide the knifes Slim. Hide the knifes."
Looking down I see Rosemary going to answer the door.
Mom is headed to the kitchen and passes dad on his way outback to the barbecue. In his typical calm and sweet southern voice he says "Hide the knifes Slim. Hide the knifes."
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
THE LINES
I didn't draw the lines. Yet I follow mostly all of them, maneuvering carefully and dutifully along the way.
Still I have trouble keeping between them when I park. Sometimes I'm way over too far. Other occasion I'm right on the line. More often than not I have to back up at least once. Oh well, I'm good at backing up and I know how to drive on the left hand side of the road.
I don't know what that'll come in handy for but it should come in handy for something.
Still I have trouble keeping between them when I park. Sometimes I'm way over too far. Other occasion I'm right on the line. More often than not I have to back up at least once. Oh well, I'm good at backing up and I know how to drive on the left hand side of the road.
I don't know what that'll come in handy for but it should come in handy for something.
Monday, August 1, 2011
THE MATURITY DEAL
"Grandma! Grandma! Grandma!" She calls me three times before I can even answer. "Yes sugar baby I'm comin. What's wrong?" I ask.
"This water ain't hot."
Walking over I put my finger in the tub and it's not cold but it sure isn't hot, barely warm. "What's the matter Grandma? Is it all out?"
After fifty seven years, two months, one week, one day and two hours, of being married, to the same man, I know why the water is tepid. "Hop out baby girl, wrap up and wait just a minute. Let me see if I can fix it." My granddaughter starts to dry off as I head for the laundry room.
Well, at least he is consistent right? Every time he thinks the water bill is too high he turns off the hot water tank. Relighting the gas pilot it ignites in a gust. Standing here looking at the blue and orange flame my instant reaction is to dump out the ice in his beer cooler.
But, nah, I'm almost seventy eight. Glad that maturity deal kicked in.
"This water ain't hot."
Walking over I put my finger in the tub and it's not cold but it sure isn't hot, barely warm. "What's the matter Grandma? Is it all out?"
After fifty seven years, two months, one week, one day and two hours, of being married, to the same man, I know why the water is tepid. "Hop out baby girl, wrap up and wait just a minute. Let me see if I can fix it." My granddaughter starts to dry off as I head for the laundry room.
Well, at least he is consistent right? Every time he thinks the water bill is too high he turns off the hot water tank. Relighting the gas pilot it ignites in a gust. Standing here looking at the blue and orange flame my instant reaction is to dump out the ice in his beer cooler.
But, nah, I'm almost seventy eight. Glad that maturity deal kicked in.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
MEET COUSIN MERLE
My cousin Merle the Perle does not live here. Yet he is a loyal relative and distance never keeps him away from important family gatherings. His family's presence is warm and welcomed. Problem is Merle says inappropriate things at the wrong time. For instance.
When Grandmaw passed, he walked in and sat with his wife and children in the funeral parlor, like everybody else. Except he is the only one that asked
"Whatcha mean y'all don't have any beer? Lord's sake Grandmaw's done gone and died. Hell I cain't think of a better reason to be drinkin. Y'all want me to go and fetch some? I don't mind. The drive'll do me good. I don't like bein round dead people. Specially when they's related and ya ain't got no beer."
Another time we were at my Great Uncle's surprise birthday party. My Aunts and Uncles were chatting while we kids ate burgers at a nearby picnic table. Cousin Merle was marveling over my Aunt Rebbecca as she took up weightlifting since he last saw her.
Aunt Becca starts flexing to show off her newly found muscles and loud as a cow bell we hear " Hot damn Becky! I like strrrrrong girls. They can git on top!"
Now, today is New Years Day. Everyone is coming to our house as usual to watch football in the backyard. Dad brings out the TVs and mom bakes ham and fresh plum rolls with sweet whipped creme. We cousins run the yard and house exploring our new toys with laughter and touchdown cheering in the backdrop.
This year mom is really fretting over Merle and his mouth. And for good darn reason after his now infamous statement at the Christmas dinner. We had fifty one relatives lined down two tables, decorated with flowers and glowing candles.
Upon finding out that our cousin Margie Lynn has a girlfriend, loud as a cow bell we hear
"Well now, ain't nothin wrong with that! Ever-body needs a little pussy ever-once in a while."
When Grandmaw passed, he walked in and sat with his wife and children in the funeral parlor, like everybody else. Except he is the only one that asked
"Whatcha mean y'all don't have any beer? Lord's sake Grandmaw's done gone and died. Hell I cain't think of a better reason to be drinkin. Y'all want me to go and fetch some? I don't mind. The drive'll do me good. I don't like bein round dead people. Specially when they's related and ya ain't got no beer."
Another time we were at my Great Uncle's surprise birthday party. My Aunts and Uncles were chatting while we kids ate burgers at a nearby picnic table. Cousin Merle was marveling over my Aunt Rebbecca as she took up weightlifting since he last saw her.
Aunt Becca starts flexing to show off her newly found muscles and loud as a cow bell we hear " Hot damn Becky! I like strrrrrong girls. They can git on top!"
Now, today is New Years Day. Everyone is coming to our house as usual to watch football in the backyard. Dad brings out the TVs and mom bakes ham and fresh plum rolls with sweet whipped creme. We cousins run the yard and house exploring our new toys with laughter and touchdown cheering in the backdrop.
This year mom is really fretting over Merle and his mouth. And for good darn reason after his now infamous statement at the Christmas dinner. We had fifty one relatives lined down two tables, decorated with flowers and glowing candles.
Upon finding out that our cousin Margie Lynn has a girlfriend, loud as a cow bell we hear
"Well now, ain't nothin wrong with that! Ever-body needs a little pussy ever-once in a while."
Sunday, July 24, 2011
REDNECKS IN CORAL GABLES
Dean Martin croons as I sweep gold dust across my shoulders and the top of my knees. From my bedroom window the setting sun melds pink and orange, bringing on tempest evening air. I thought it would never get here.
In the excitement of the impending night, running around naked in sexy man's house, I proceed to do a couple things that bring a not so erotic moment to the luscious night ahead.
As usual when life affects me I kind of don't eat very much. Realizing I need food and forgetting that a big huge vitamin can make you nauseated on an empty stomach, I take one. I eat a granola bar and guzzle them both down with a small glass of red wine. I'm not a big drinker. I was thinking of it more like grape juice and granola. Wrong.
Jumping in the truck I drive the short distance between our homes. Striding through the unlocked door scented apple and spice encircles me, just as his handsome face comes from around the corner. "Hey! Don't you look nice." he says walking over to relieve my arms of bags as he kisses me soft on the lips. "Thanks" I reply. And we continue to kiss. Our mouths intertwine as his tender brown eyes look into mine After a couple minutes he says "I'm starved" and pulls us towards the kitchen.
Fixing him a big helping of chicken and dumplings still warm from my stove at home, in an uneasy instant I realize......I don't feel so good. Oh no. I really don't feel so good. This can't be! I have never gotten sick at some one's house before. In my whole entire life. Not to mention a man. And of all men. Oh god. I'm going to be sick!
He sits at the table and starts to eat while my stomach rumbles, turning me white as a ghost. What could be worse?? Only one thing. Yea, that's right. And maybe that is coming next. Oh no.
He puts down his fork and stares at me. Surprised, concerned and slightly humored he asks
"You're gonna be sick?"
As my stomach swirls in reckless abandon I shudder. "Yes."
I don't have time to worry about how this looks..ladylike or not, I am sweating like a whore in church and gonna be sick. I got two choices. In the house or out. This is not good.
"Oh my god I'm gonna be sick." I say again while peeling down my blouse. If I cool off I'll feel better. At that I decide, outside it is. Winter air will help.
The inevitable is coming and I run for the front door. With the night pitched black, I lay my nauseated self down on the nippy grass. In the next moment I hear Dr.Sexy Man and see him from the side of my eye. "Oh please, go back inside!" And he turns on a dime like the gentleman he is. That was sweet. Oh my! What he must be thinking.
As the vitamin,granola and wine are rushing up I still see the humor. Great Ivey just great. This is going to impress him. Lets see what other sexy move I can pull from my lace thong.
Having the culprit out of my system, I quickly recover. He takes me in his arms with his slow, soft touch. His sexy chiseled shoulder's are strong and determined. By far, the most handsome man I know. Dashingly gorgeous, like a youthful James Garner.
Mental note to self. To avoid being labeled a redneck -- When getting sick. 1 Leave shirt on. 2 Stay inside.
In the excitement of the impending night, running around naked in sexy man's house, I proceed to do a couple things that bring a not so erotic moment to the luscious night ahead.
As usual when life affects me I kind of don't eat very much. Realizing I need food and forgetting that a big huge vitamin can make you nauseated on an empty stomach, I take one. I eat a granola bar and guzzle them both down with a small glass of red wine. I'm not a big drinker. I was thinking of it more like grape juice and granola. Wrong.
Jumping in the truck I drive the short distance between our homes. Striding through the unlocked door scented apple and spice encircles me, just as his handsome face comes from around the corner. "Hey! Don't you look nice." he says walking over to relieve my arms of bags as he kisses me soft on the lips. "Thanks" I reply. And we continue to kiss. Our mouths intertwine as his tender brown eyes look into mine After a couple minutes he says "I'm starved" and pulls us towards the kitchen.
Fixing him a big helping of chicken and dumplings still warm from my stove at home, in an uneasy instant I realize......I don't feel so good. Oh no. I really don't feel so good. This can't be! I have never gotten sick at some one's house before. In my whole entire life. Not to mention a man. And of all men. Oh god. I'm going to be sick!
He sits at the table and starts to eat while my stomach rumbles, turning me white as a ghost. What could be worse?? Only one thing. Yea, that's right. And maybe that is coming next. Oh no.
He puts down his fork and stares at me. Surprised, concerned and slightly humored he asks
"You're gonna be sick?"
As my stomach swirls in reckless abandon I shudder. "Yes."
I don't have time to worry about how this looks..ladylike or not, I am sweating like a whore in church and gonna be sick. I got two choices. In the house or out. This is not good.
"Oh my god I'm gonna be sick." I say again while peeling down my blouse. If I cool off I'll feel better. At that I decide, outside it is. Winter air will help.
The inevitable is coming and I run for the front door. With the night pitched black, I lay my nauseated self down on the nippy grass. In the next moment I hear Dr.Sexy Man and see him from the side of my eye. "Oh please, go back inside!" And he turns on a dime like the gentleman he is. That was sweet. Oh my! What he must be thinking.
As the vitamin,granola and wine are rushing up I still see the humor. Great Ivey just great. This is going to impress him. Lets see what other sexy move I can pull from my lace thong.
Having the culprit out of my system, I quickly recover. He takes me in his arms with his slow, soft touch. His sexy chiseled shoulder's are strong and determined. By far, the most handsome man I know. Dashingly gorgeous, like a youthful James Garner.
Mental note to self. To avoid being labeled a redneck -- When getting sick. 1 Leave shirt on. 2 Stay inside.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
MY MOTHERS LOVE
A mother always knows what to say that will wipe the tears away. A loving presence at any age. Right?
"Mom look at my eyes I have been crying for three days." She slowly turns in my direction and says "No. You have bags under your eyes because you are an old lady."
I guess I should grateful for the lady part.
Oh well, at least I get to pick my friends.
"Mom look at my eyes I have been crying for three days." She slowly turns in my direction and says "No. You have bags under your eyes because you are an old lady."
I guess I should grateful for the lady part.
Oh well, at least I get to pick my friends.
Friday, July 15, 2011
GOOD WAITING
I have decided that I really need to tackle this 'patience is a virtue' thing. It is crucial. So if I have to learn to wait, she can learn to wait for the ham.
THE SAGA TAKES A UTURN
With my head down and newly manicured nails clicking across the keypad I chuckle thinking of my niece and her description of me. A burgeoning writer. And although I can't pronounce it and had to check the spelling in the dictionary, I know it is appropriately true.
The door opens and Chase asks me on the way through the room "Holmes is there a villain? Because any book worth reading has a good guy and a bad guy. So who's the bad guy?" Yet he never waits for the answer. Looking up as light slices the door and the toilet flushes, he then hurries past, back to the family room TV where 'Dancing with the stars' is in full swing.
So getting back to my work at hand I decide that even the bad guy deserves one more chance. My stomach settles some to the music foating down the hall and under my door. Good grace will take us far. Right?
The door opens and Chase asks me on the way through the room "Holmes is there a villain? Because any book worth reading has a good guy and a bad guy. So who's the bad guy?" Yet he never waits for the answer. Looking up as light slices the door and the toilet flushes, he then hurries past, back to the family room TV where 'Dancing with the stars' is in full swing.
So getting back to my work at hand I decide that even the bad guy deserves one more chance. My stomach settles some to the music foating down the hall and under my door. Good grace will take us far. Right?
Monday, July 11, 2011
OUR EASTER BUNNY
Our Easter Bunny is cool. He gets the whole candy-kid connection. Our neighbors Bunny hides their baskets. Sure am glad he doesn't come to our house because that is over the top. They already hide the eggs.
Christmas is torture as the suspense of wrapped gifts starts piling up right after Thanksgiving. Halloween taunts me for weeks as mother brings home giant bags of miniature sweets, that sit unopened in the pantry until the sun sets on Halloween eve. After trick or treating we have to wait even longer for the candy because it has to be checked that it is safe to eat.
So I do appreciate our rabbit who obviously has a good head on his shoulders.
Christmas is torture as the suspense of wrapped gifts starts piling up right after Thanksgiving. Halloween taunts me for weeks as mother brings home giant bags of miniature sweets, that sit unopened in the pantry until the sun sets on Halloween eve. After trick or treating we have to wait even longer for the candy because it has to be checked that it is safe to eat.
So I do appreciate our rabbit who obviously has a good head on his shoulders.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
THE WOODPECKER
The woodpecker doesn't see me or doesn't care that I am sitting near him, as he starts jamming his long slim red beak into the bark of the pine tree with strength end speed.
Watching at close range it really makes me wonder. Why do they do that? Does it itch? Is he sharpening it? Is he mad? Having fun? Then he starts making a noise I have never heard before. Hhhhmmmmmm.........Alrighty then. I don't know what the heck he is doin but I'm backing up my chair.
Watching at close range it really makes me wonder. Why do they do that? Does it itch? Is he sharpening it? Is he mad? Having fun? Then he starts making a noise I have never heard before. Hhhhmmmmmm.........Alrighty then. I don't know what the heck he is doin but I'm backing up my chair.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
A SOCIOPATH
Only a sociopath could sleep that soundly and tout himself as a nice guy. Only a sociopath.
TATTOOS
The summer scene from our dock is plentiful this noon, watching friends and family celebrate the fourth of July . Neighbors around the four mile lake frock in bright sun and carefree water. Rays of sunshine twinkle up and down the waves as they roll towards shore, bringing with them a distinctly nostalgic smell.
Motor oil of distant skiboats tint the coconut sunscreen air floating in the breeze under my nose. I'm happy to be alive.
Everything on my plate looks festive and smells so good. Mom and Dad sure know how to throw a party. Aunt Edna joins us taking the last spot at our table on the dock. The teenager's table. We don't mind though. She is hilarious and always says something memorable and many times useful. Lucy told me a long time ago "Ivey Mae we love all of our relatives. Certain ones you don't use as role models and other ones deserve special attention to what they say."
While diving into our grilled feast with all the trimmings, Dad drives the boat past us dropping off the last skier of the morning. Mary, the new fiancee of my second cousin emerges from the lake and walks across our view to grab her towel. Covering a good portion of this young woman's lower back is a brightly colored tattoo. We all see it. Auntie glances up then back at her food while my sisters wink and we wait.
After Mary walks up the hill and disappears into the back of the huge pink house, did anyone speak. It is Auntie.
"Well kids I figured out exactly what it is about tattoos that I don't like. Why in the world would I pay money to have ink permanently embedded in my skin with a needle when the end result looks like something I ought to wash off with hot soap and water."
Motor oil of distant skiboats tint the coconut sunscreen air floating in the breeze under my nose. I'm happy to be alive.
Everything on my plate looks festive and smells so good. Mom and Dad sure know how to throw a party. Aunt Edna joins us taking the last spot at our table on the dock. The teenager's table. We don't mind though. She is hilarious and always says something memorable and many times useful. Lucy told me a long time ago "Ivey Mae we love all of our relatives. Certain ones you don't use as role models and other ones deserve special attention to what they say."
While diving into our grilled feast with all the trimmings, Dad drives the boat past us dropping off the last skier of the morning. Mary, the new fiancee of my second cousin emerges from the lake and walks across our view to grab her towel. Covering a good portion of this young woman's lower back is a brightly colored tattoo. We all see it. Auntie glances up then back at her food while my sisters wink and we wait.
After Mary walks up the hill and disappears into the back of the huge pink house, did anyone speak. It is Auntie.
"Well kids I figured out exactly what it is about tattoos that I don't like. Why in the world would I pay money to have ink permanently embedded in my skin with a needle when the end result looks like something I ought to wash off with hot soap and water."
Monday, July 4, 2011
BRAINS, SEX AND BOATS
What good is anything if you don't use it? May as well give it away or sell it. Life is better all the way around when you are in the saddle, using your head and not on a trailer.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
THE GOLF COURSE
As a non-golfer I thought the lakes around a golf course were decorative and designed to be pleasing on the eye. Same with the swirling sculpted sand that looks so pretty from the aerial view on the golf channel.
Well folks, I took up golf.
The lakes are golf ball aquariums and they ain't so pretty anymore. And the only thing I can figure about the sand is.......it's there to make me mad.
Well folks, I took up golf.
The lakes are golf ball aquariums and they ain't so pretty anymore. And the only thing I can figure about the sand is.......it's there to make me mad.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
SHE AINT GONNA LOAN YOU A BOWL
My mother will do most anything for anybody anytime. She helps with her heart and her hands and is sincere in her nature. But things can get ugly if you want to borrow a bowl.
My mother has an emotional attachment to her stuff. She told dad when I was in high school to bury her with her Tupperware. She was serious and still has the same Tupperware. In particular she has an affection for bowls. She loves her bowls. And she likes buying bowls for other people. Every time there is a cute bowl at a relatives house, it was a gift from my mother.
One Sunday afternoon my sisters and their families are visiting mom. Seeing their cars parked out front, I walk over too.
Joining my nephew on a love seat, we sit directly in front of a ceiling to floor cabinet at the edge of her dining set. Just listening to the chatter around us we are content.
Lorraine is going on about the intense Florida heat and Rosemary smiles from the corner of the room watching her husband unabashedly dive into biscuits and gravy.
My attention wanders to the wondrous display of mother's bowl cabinet when my nephew exclaims "man, that's a lot of bowls."
There are bowls in every size,shape and color. A bowl in green plaid and yellow polka-dots,cherry red ones and twenty solid white. We count five each of the primary colors and oh the holiday designs are the cutest. She has rabbit covered bowls in three descending sizes and some shaped liked carrots and eggs. There are jelly bean bowls and a large oval football bowl. No sport is left ignored, all in a usable bowl. Halloween candy bowls in black and orange with Christmas bowls galore. Striped bowls and shallow bowls, dipping bowls and pasta bowls. Easily hundreds of bowls.
As we continue to admire her collection Mother calls out to me from the kitchen. "Ivey Mae do you want some spaghetti sauce to take home for the kids?"
That's easy. "Sure mom. Thanks."
But, not so fast. Then she adds, "Well run down to your house and bring back a bowl that I can put it in."
Momentarily forgetting her affinity with the bowls, I suggest something insane. "Mom can't you put it in one of your bowls? Then I'll take it home and dump it in one there and bring yours back. I won't keep your bowl. Besides I'm already here."
Without the slightest hesitation she says " No, no, uuhh, I don't think I have any bowls"
My nephew and I look at each other and quietly burst out laughing, as we sit in front of the bowl shrine.
"OK mom. I'll go get a a bowl."
So, she will do many things for many people but I'm tellin you the truth. There is no need to ask because she ain't gonna loan you a bowl.
My mother has an emotional attachment to her stuff. She told dad when I was in high school to bury her with her Tupperware. She was serious and still has the same Tupperware. In particular she has an affection for bowls. She loves her bowls. And she likes buying bowls for other people. Every time there is a cute bowl at a relatives house, it was a gift from my mother.
One Sunday afternoon my sisters and their families are visiting mom. Seeing their cars parked out front, I walk over too.
Joining my nephew on a love seat, we sit directly in front of a ceiling to floor cabinet at the edge of her dining set. Just listening to the chatter around us we are content.
Lorraine is going on about the intense Florida heat and Rosemary smiles from the corner of the room watching her husband unabashedly dive into biscuits and gravy.
My attention wanders to the wondrous display of mother's bowl cabinet when my nephew exclaims "man, that's a lot of bowls."
There are bowls in every size,shape and color. A bowl in green plaid and yellow polka-dots,cherry red ones and twenty solid white. We count five each of the primary colors and oh the holiday designs are the cutest. She has rabbit covered bowls in three descending sizes and some shaped liked carrots and eggs. There are jelly bean bowls and a large oval football bowl. No sport is left ignored, all in a usable bowl. Halloween candy bowls in black and orange with Christmas bowls galore. Striped bowls and shallow bowls, dipping bowls and pasta bowls. Easily hundreds of bowls.
As we continue to admire her collection Mother calls out to me from the kitchen. "Ivey Mae do you want some spaghetti sauce to take home for the kids?"
That's easy. "Sure mom. Thanks."
But, not so fast. Then she adds, "Well run down to your house and bring back a bowl that I can put it in."
Momentarily forgetting her affinity with the bowls, I suggest something insane. "Mom can't you put it in one of your bowls? Then I'll take it home and dump it in one there and bring yours back. I won't keep your bowl. Besides I'm already here."
Without the slightest hesitation she says " No, no, uuhh, I don't think I have any bowls"
My nephew and I look at each other and quietly burst out laughing, as we sit in front of the bowl shrine.
"OK mom. I'll go get a a bowl."
So, she will do many things for many people but I'm tellin you the truth. There is no need to ask because she ain't gonna loan you a bowl.
Friday, June 24, 2011
DO ME FIRST
The handsome doctor looks at me and asks. "Who wants to go first?" I know I'm the mom and protective by nature, but don't linger in my answer. "Me me. Look, I'm always scared and she is looking forward to it."
We both turn to my tall, shy daughter and she smiles.
Laughing I say "See. At four years old she preferred to watch only the second half of the Titanic. You know where the people suffer mental anguish beyond imagination while the ship tilts back and forth teasing the passengers as they scream in horror facing the inescapable slow torturous death in the freezing ocean. She is not squeamish.
I have a sister who doesn't mind needles and being cut on. Y'all need to have your head examined. I can faint at the mere thought of it."
"So I'm going first."
Pointing to Hannah I add. "She can savor the moment."
We both turn to my tall, shy daughter and she smiles.
Laughing I say "See. At four years old she preferred to watch only the second half of the Titanic. You know where the people suffer mental anguish beyond imagination while the ship tilts back and forth teasing the passengers as they scream in horror facing the inescapable slow torturous death in the freezing ocean. She is not squeamish.
I have a sister who doesn't mind needles and being cut on. Y'all need to have your head examined. I can faint at the mere thought of it."
"So I'm going first."
Pointing to Hannah I add. "She can savor the moment."
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
SLOW SPEED
Is covered at my house.
My son has only one gear. He approaches me while I water plants in the late evening light and asks.
"Mom where is the string?" to which I reply,
"What kind of string? Irritated he says,
"You know sewing string." Looking at him I smile.
"Do you mean thread?"
My son walks into his sisters room the other night and asks.
"Do you have a portable light?" Looking up from her laptop she rolls her eyes and replies "Do you mean a flashlight?"
My son has only one gear. He approaches me while I water plants in the late evening light and asks.
"Mom where is the string?" to which I reply,
"What kind of string? Irritated he says,
"You know sewing string." Looking at him I smile.
"Do you mean thread?"
My son walks into his sisters room the other night and asks.
"Do you have a portable light?" Looking up from her laptop she rolls her eyes and replies "Do you mean a flashlight?"
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
ONLY FOOLS RUSH IN
I don't know who said that. But it is true.
My dad says "If you're gonna be dumb you'd better be tough." My southern spirit may learn the hard way but you sure as heck don't have to hit me in the head with the same shovel twice.
My dad says "If you're gonna be dumb you'd better be tough." My southern spirit may learn the hard way but you sure as heck don't have to hit me in the head with the same shovel twice.
Monday, June 20, 2011
DEVIL HORNS
I think this is so funny and the perfect Halloween get-up. Simple while balancing out my personality. Most need a costume. Not me.
The little black devil horns are somewhat obscured by the thickness of my hair. Yet once you see them it is hard to look at anything else because the longer you focus the more real they become. Hilarious. I suppose it's the brazen element of truth that makes it comical. At an instant glance I don't appear out of the norm.
I'm dressed for a typical weekend night in jeans and sexy sandals. My black tee is long sleeve but the cotton is woven thin and perfect for Florida trick or treating.
A couple minutes after arriving at the party my cousin comes walking down the cobwebbed hall to greet us. I notice him glance at the top of my head as I admire his cowboy accesories. Then without warning and a straight face he says in complete and utter relief,
"Whew! They finally came out!
With that comment we are laughing like children who have the knowledge of adults. He leans forward to take a closer look and exclaims further.
"Damn Ivey Mae if they don't look like they are growing right out of your head!" It has never taken much for us to crack each other up. But this is a riot. Shoot, my husband thinks it is by far the funniest thing he has ever seen.
Now what's really gonna be funny is when I wear them Christmas and Easter. Heck, I might not take them off.
The little black devil horns are somewhat obscured by the thickness of my hair. Yet once you see them it is hard to look at anything else because the longer you focus the more real they become. Hilarious. I suppose it's the brazen element of truth that makes it comical. At an instant glance I don't appear out of the norm.
I'm dressed for a typical weekend night in jeans and sexy sandals. My black tee is long sleeve but the cotton is woven thin and perfect for Florida trick or treating.
A couple minutes after arriving at the party my cousin comes walking down the cobwebbed hall to greet us. I notice him glance at the top of my head as I admire his cowboy accesories. Then without warning and a straight face he says in complete and utter relief,
"Whew! They finally came out!
With that comment we are laughing like children who have the knowledge of adults. He leans forward to take a closer look and exclaims further.
"Damn Ivey Mae if they don't look like they are growing right out of your head!" It has never taken much for us to crack each other up. But this is a riot. Shoot, my husband thinks it is by far the funniest thing he has ever seen.
Now what's really gonna be funny is when I wear them Christmas and Easter. Heck, I might not take them off.
Monday, June 13, 2011
HIS MIDLIFE CRISIS
"Would you look at this!"
He says, startling me out of my dinner dishes concentration. Turning around from the sink window he is almost standing on top of me. It must be important. Usually he doesn't get up from the TV unless he has to use the bathroom or get another glass of wine.
"You scared me. Whats wrong?"
He leans down with disgust and points to his temple in horror and says
"Look look I'm loosing my hair!"
"Well move over a little and let me see."
Gently reaching my hand to touch his hair he jumps back and hollers.
"Be careful will ya! Take it easy! You're going to pull the rest out. Do you have to be so rough? Damn it. At this rate I'll be bald by the weekend and here you come ready to help it along."
Obviously a sensitive matter. I stifle my laugh while he retreats to the den.
Subsequent to this unsettling revelation of typical male balding, for three days he hid under a plant in the front yard after work. Then we had at least a full week of baseball caps, followed by weeks of I don't know? Rooster Hair? Cock-a-too hair? He let the top grow and it is sticking straight up.
With all of us gathered around the table for supper Hannah giggles, asking "Daddy what is wrong with your hair?"
"Nothing is wrong with my hair. Why? He barks back instantaneously.
Then both girls chime in laughing "Oh Daddy you look like a chicken or or a turkey or something that would fly."
That brought us to where we are now, at the gel-stage. We have mega-watt family size gel containers in all of the bathrooms. There are travel size gel tubes everywhere I turn. I have dried them in the dryer from his pockets, found them in all compartments of the cars and trucks, they've been used by the dogs as messy chew toys, and lost under the couch and in the bed. By mistake I packed one in his lunch thinking it was sanitizer. He probably thought I was giving him a hint.
Tonight the twins start laughing and ask "Daddy can you sing like Elvis too? This sends him to the den to retrieve his hat and he places it on top of the hair gel, for the remainder of the evening.
Before bed, the last thing he does is remove the hat.
If he didn't look like poultry before he sure does now, with hat hair.
He says, startling me out of my dinner dishes concentration. Turning around from the sink window he is almost standing on top of me. It must be important. Usually he doesn't get up from the TV unless he has to use the bathroom or get another glass of wine.
"You scared me. Whats wrong?"
He leans down with disgust and points to his temple in horror and says
"Look look I'm loosing my hair!"
"Well move over a little and let me see."
Gently reaching my hand to touch his hair he jumps back and hollers.
"Be careful will ya! Take it easy! You're going to pull the rest out. Do you have to be so rough? Damn it. At this rate I'll be bald by the weekend and here you come ready to help it along."
Obviously a sensitive matter. I stifle my laugh while he retreats to the den.
Subsequent to this unsettling revelation of typical male balding, for three days he hid under a plant in the front yard after work. Then we had at least a full week of baseball caps, followed by weeks of I don't know? Rooster Hair? Cock-a-too hair? He let the top grow and it is sticking straight up.
With all of us gathered around the table for supper Hannah giggles, asking "Daddy what is wrong with your hair?"
"Nothing is wrong with my hair. Why? He barks back instantaneously.
Then both girls chime in laughing "Oh Daddy you look like a chicken or or a turkey or something that would fly."
That brought us to where we are now, at the gel-stage. We have mega-watt family size gel containers in all of the bathrooms. There are travel size gel tubes everywhere I turn. I have dried them in the dryer from his pockets, found them in all compartments of the cars and trucks, they've been used by the dogs as messy chew toys, and lost under the couch and in the bed. By mistake I packed one in his lunch thinking it was sanitizer. He probably thought I was giving him a hint.
Tonight the twins start laughing and ask "Daddy can you sing like Elvis too? This sends him to the den to retrieve his hat and he places it on top of the hair gel, for the remainder of the evening.
Before bed, the last thing he does is remove the hat.
If he didn't look like poultry before he sure does now, with hat hair.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
MAD AS A WET HEN
It's been several weeks since the road trip and she won't let me in the house. She reluctantly took the cream-cheese brownies and lasagna, from the doorway.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
THIS BIG OLE HOUSE
The new house echos. It's huge. Rolling over on the lush powder blue carpet I come right up to my reflection in the vast mirror door. Looking past my eyes staring around me I'm thinkin wow, I can fill this whole place up with stuff.
After lining my brand new closet with wacky pack stickers, this room I don't have to share starts feeling a little too big and way too quiet. Jumping up I run out to look for Lucy. Running down the hall I turn left and skip along another long forest green hallway. The thick softness beneath my feet is great. I can't resist and drop to roll the complete distance to her door. I wonder if she feels scared way back here. I would.
"Hey what ya doin mildoin?"
My sister with her long blonde hair smiles, while peering over her book at me. I continue to roll on her carpet just as plush but soft daffodil yellow.
"I'm reading. What are you doing? Rolling around the house? Be careful of the stairs Ivey Mae. Thats all we need for you to fall on your head the first night here."
"This place is really cool. It's so big though. Are you a little scared?"
"Scared of what? The doors are locked. Dad installed a state of the art alarm system. Don't worry. It won't seem so big once all the furniture gets here. We are very fortunate Ivey Mae."
"I know. Do you care if I sleep in here with you tonight?"
"Thats fine. After we eat go get your blankets."
Lucy closes her book and we walk down the hall together but only for a moment then I dash to the top of the stairs and count how fast I can make it down.
While eating, all of us decide for the first night in our new home we prefer to be together. Mother and dad are out to dinner and there is so much more space that we feel isolated. Topping off the meal with my sister's homemade donuts dipped in sugar and cinnamon, we get our things and meet back in Lucy Lou's room to watch tv.
It didn't take long from the excitement of the day and each one of us drifted off. All seven of us, in my sisters full size bed.
Around midnight, as the story goes my parents return home. Climbing the stairs they go first to check on the baby and her crib is empty. Next they go to my brothers room and there is no one in his bed either. The same happens for myself and all of my other sisters.
Finally walking to the very back of the second floor they find us. Lucy Lou is the only one awake. She hears dad whisper to mom in the faint glow from the foyer chandelier. "Well Slim, I would a never built this big ole house if I knew they were gonna pile up in here like a bunch of puppies."
After lining my brand new closet with wacky pack stickers, this room I don't have to share starts feeling a little too big and way too quiet. Jumping up I run out to look for Lucy. Running down the hall I turn left and skip along another long forest green hallway. The thick softness beneath my feet is great. I can't resist and drop to roll the complete distance to her door. I wonder if she feels scared way back here. I would.
"Hey what ya doin mildoin?"
My sister with her long blonde hair smiles, while peering over her book at me. I continue to roll on her carpet just as plush but soft daffodil yellow.
"I'm reading. What are you doing? Rolling around the house? Be careful of the stairs Ivey Mae. Thats all we need for you to fall on your head the first night here."
"This place is really cool. It's so big though. Are you a little scared?"
"Scared of what? The doors are locked. Dad installed a state of the art alarm system. Don't worry. It won't seem so big once all the furniture gets here. We are very fortunate Ivey Mae."
"I know. Do you care if I sleep in here with you tonight?"
"Thats fine. After we eat go get your blankets."
Lucy closes her book and we walk down the hall together but only for a moment then I dash to the top of the stairs and count how fast I can make it down.
While eating, all of us decide for the first night in our new home we prefer to be together. Mother and dad are out to dinner and there is so much more space that we feel isolated. Topping off the meal with my sister's homemade donuts dipped in sugar and cinnamon, we get our things and meet back in Lucy Lou's room to watch tv.
It didn't take long from the excitement of the day and each one of us drifted off. All seven of us, in my sisters full size bed.
Around midnight, as the story goes my parents return home. Climbing the stairs they go first to check on the baby and her crib is empty. Next they go to my brothers room and there is no one in his bed either. The same happens for myself and all of my other sisters.
Finally walking to the very back of the second floor they find us. Lucy Lou is the only one awake. She hears dad whisper to mom in the faint glow from the foyer chandelier. "Well Slim, I would a never built this big ole house if I knew they were gonna pile up in here like a bunch of puppies."
Monday, June 6, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
JUNE THIRD
The room gets heavy with thought as minutes fold into hours. This third day of June is a hot afternoon playing out like a nostalgic dream.
Preparing the table for lunch I place his silverware down in slow motion because reality is pulling my heart strings. He sits then turns to look at me. Standing next to him like so many many years before, the familiarity of long ago sweeps me away in an unforeseen moment. Years rush back like falling cards and my heart lodges in my throat. The vulnerability of our love is hard to look at under the light he would not have picked.
Preparing the table for lunch I place his silverware down in slow motion because reality is pulling my heart strings. He sits then turns to look at me. Standing next to him like so many many years before, the familiarity of long ago sweeps me away in an unforeseen moment. Years rush back like falling cards and my heart lodges in my throat. The vulnerability of our love is hard to look at under the light he would not have picked.
SHE MAY TIE YOU
Dad leans over and pats me on the shoulder. Then calm and slow in his reassuring twang he softly tells me. "She may tie you but she ain't never gonna beat you."
IT'S A GOOD THING
His truck has a huge console in the middle. It's a good thing or I would've slipped right on over.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
THE PERFUME BOX
My mother comes from a long line of good bathers. It is a standing joke amongst my maternal cousins of not having any skin left if we stayed with Grandmaw for more than a night or two. You'd just have to see it to believe it.
Mom carries this tradition on with a modern twist.
She doesn't supervise our baths but does inquire as to what we washed and how many times we washed it.
Stepping out of the shower I wrap in a luxe blue towel and hurry down the hall still dripping wet. Who has time to dry off. My sister is lounged on my bed waiting to beat me at checkers. As soon as I shut the door Mom starts calling my name from the bottom of the stairs.
With my room at the very top landing I am immediate access to mother hollering up the foyer. We have an intercom system but sure as heck don't need it.
"Ivey Mae did you wash your hair?"
"Yes mom."
"Did you wash it twice?"
"Yes."
"Did you condition it?"
"Yes."
"Did you rinse it until the water ran clear?"
"Yes."
Looking at Lucy I roll my eyes because we both know what is next. And sure enough she doesn't let us down. I mock our mother in silence as her words boom up the vaulted ceiling.
"Did you wash your perfume box?"
Defiantly ignoring her question I look at my sister instead.
"God when is she going to quit asking us stuff like this? I'm sixteen. I think I know how to wash my hair and my own stupid bottom. What the heck? When did she stop askin you that?"
My sister groans. "She still tries to ask me. You just don't hear her because your radio is too loud. I am in college for goodness sakes! But you know what she always says."
Lucy Lou stands up and puts both hands on her hips and shakes her head in disgust. Then in her best mom voice, she correctly quotes her.
"Well girls it's called a perfume box for good reason and it can't be washed too often. Marilyn Monroe liked the smell of her perfume box. But she was on drugs."
Mom carries this tradition on with a modern twist.
She doesn't supervise our baths but does inquire as to what we washed and how many times we washed it.
Stepping out of the shower I wrap in a luxe blue towel and hurry down the hall still dripping wet. Who has time to dry off. My sister is lounged on my bed waiting to beat me at checkers. As soon as I shut the door Mom starts calling my name from the bottom of the stairs.
With my room at the very top landing I am immediate access to mother hollering up the foyer. We have an intercom system but sure as heck don't need it.
"Ivey Mae did you wash your hair?"
"Yes mom."
"Did you wash it twice?"
"Yes."
"Did you condition it?"
"Yes."
"Did you rinse it until the water ran clear?"
"Yes."
Looking at Lucy I roll my eyes because we both know what is next. And sure enough she doesn't let us down. I mock our mother in silence as her words boom up the vaulted ceiling.
"Did you wash your perfume box?"
Defiantly ignoring her question I look at my sister instead.
"God when is she going to quit asking us stuff like this? I'm sixteen. I think I know how to wash my hair and my own stupid bottom. What the heck? When did she stop askin you that?"
My sister groans. "She still tries to ask me. You just don't hear her because your radio is too loud. I am in college for goodness sakes! But you know what she always says."
Lucy Lou stands up and puts both hands on her hips and shakes her head in disgust. Then in her best mom voice, she correctly quotes her.
"Well girls it's called a perfume box for good reason and it can't be washed too often. Marilyn Monroe liked the smell of her perfume box. But she was on drugs."
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
SHE HAS NOTHING TO SAY
This boundless grief has transformed her.
I hope the bastard eats prison food for the rest of his life. I know one thing for sure. I will be there to look him in the eyes if he ever walks through the barbed wire fence to freedom.
I hope the bastard eats prison food for the rest of his life. I know one thing for sure. I will be there to look him in the eyes if he ever walks through the barbed wire fence to freedom.
Monday, May 23, 2011
TIME FLIES
Not only does time fly when you are having fun it flies when you are arguing. How about that? Live and learn.
I think I would have rathered listened to the radio. But the intermittent "Oh my god get me out of this car" from the back seat did break up the monotiny every twenty minutes or so.
I think I would have rathered listened to the radio. But the intermittent "Oh my god get me out of this car" from the back seat did break up the monotiny every twenty minutes or so.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
ARE WE THERE YET?
"Ivey Mae! Don't slam the door you are gonna break the window. Lord you are rough as a bull in a china cabinet."
Taking a dddddeeeeep deep breath I turn the ignition and pull out onto the road.
We are taking her car because after the compromise we settled with me driving her vehicle.
And away we go.
"Don't turn on the radio."
"Mother I know how to change the channels back to whatever you have it on."
"I know. You know everything but I don't. And you shouldn't be listening to the radio with all of this traffic. You need to concentrate.
"You mean I have to drive three four hours. Or god knows how long it will take us and I can't listen to the radio?"
"That's right. And don't drink any water either because we are not stopping."
Taking a dddddeeeeep deep breath I turn the ignition and pull out onto the road.
We are taking her car because after the compromise we settled with me driving her vehicle.
And away we go.
"Don't turn on the radio."
"Mother I know how to change the channels back to whatever you have it on."
"I know. You know everything but I don't. And you shouldn't be listening to the radio with all of this traffic. You need to concentrate.
"You mean I have to drive three four hours. Or god knows how long it will take us and I can't listen to the radio?"
"That's right. And don't drink any water either because we are not stopping."
Saturday, May 21, 2011
A ROCKY START
Oh this here is a big surprise.
Following several rounds of disagreement over who is driving on the road trip I had to tell her she was elderly and a bit unsafe. Which is why I was offering to drive her in the first place.
She thinks age trumps everything. She is wrong.
Just because you have lived a long time doesn't mean you can weave in and out of the lanes and go forty miles an hour on the turnpike in the far left lane.
Finally "No mother. I am driving."
After insulting me, my children and my dogs she calls back.
"OK Ivey Mae.'' she says completely disgusted.
"Call me at seven o'clock and pick me up at ten. And not a minute late. You all eat a little bowl of cereal and tell the girls to use the bathroom because we are not stopping."
Morning comes and we pull through her drive just as rain starts plopping on the windshield in big wet drops. Great. Then in unison the twins groan aloud. "Oh no mommie! Please don't let her wear that!" Hayley takes it a bit further. "I am not going if she wears that."
Here she comes, my mother. Laundry basket in hand, which is her version of a suitcase. Smile on face. Shower cap on head.
Jumping out to help her. She stops dead in her tracks and stares at my flowing floral shirt, that I chose carefully, knowing she would approve of the t-shirt underneath providing complete modesty. And says
"Well damn Ivey Mae why are you wearin your nightgown?" Before I can answer she adds "And I sure hope you didn't put on any of your stinky perfume because that will just make me car sick."
And we're off! Wait till she finds out we didn't eat a little bowl of cereal.
Following several rounds of disagreement over who is driving on the road trip I had to tell her she was elderly and a bit unsafe. Which is why I was offering to drive her in the first place.
She thinks age trumps everything. She is wrong.
Just because you have lived a long time doesn't mean you can weave in and out of the lanes and go forty miles an hour on the turnpike in the far left lane.
Finally "No mother. I am driving."
After insulting me, my children and my dogs she calls back.
"OK Ivey Mae.'' she says completely disgusted.
"Call me at seven o'clock and pick me up at ten. And not a minute late. You all eat a little bowl of cereal and tell the girls to use the bathroom because we are not stopping."
Morning comes and we pull through her drive just as rain starts plopping on the windshield in big wet drops. Great. Then in unison the twins groan aloud. "Oh no mommie! Please don't let her wear that!" Hayley takes it a bit further. "I am not going if she wears that."
Here she comes, my mother. Laundry basket in hand, which is her version of a suitcase. Smile on face. Shower cap on head.
Jumping out to help her. She stops dead in her tracks and stares at my flowing floral shirt, that I chose carefully, knowing she would approve of the t-shirt underneath providing complete modesty. And says
"Well damn Ivey Mae why are you wearin your nightgown?" Before I can answer she adds "And I sure hope you didn't put on any of your stinky perfume because that will just make me car sick."
And we're off! Wait till she finds out we didn't eat a little bowl of cereal.
Friday, May 20, 2011
ROAD TRIP
Oh my. I must have gone temporarily insane or something yesterday for a moment or two because apparently I called my mother and invited her on a road trip.
The last one we took there were bets taken to see what county we would get to before the fighting broke out. Hell we didn't even make it out of the driveway and she was begging me to take her home.
By the time we passed the rocking chairs lined in front of the Cracker Barrel we were eatin lunch at separate tables.
A smooth trip ahead? It ain't promisin.
The last one we took there were bets taken to see what county we would get to before the fighting broke out. Hell we didn't even make it out of the driveway and she was begging me to take her home.
By the time we passed the rocking chairs lined in front of the Cracker Barrel we were eatin lunch at separate tables.
A smooth trip ahead? It ain't promisin.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Friday, May 13, 2011
THE SEXY MAID
I've never met her but she must be sexy as hell and a little scattered brained.
The elusive foxy maid left a thigh high fishnet with a black seam in his bed. Another time there were navy blue boy-shorts trimmed in lace. An array of unmatched earrings and a silver toe ring made their way to the desktop.
Then one day you know who found a long strand of smooth creamy pearls tucked deep into the sheets at the end of the bed.
But what I really want to know is how the sexy maid is getting a hold of all my stuff?
The elusive foxy maid left a thigh high fishnet with a black seam in his bed. Another time there were navy blue boy-shorts trimmed in lace. An array of unmatched earrings and a silver toe ring made their way to the desktop.
Then one day you know who found a long strand of smooth creamy pearls tucked deep into the sheets at the end of the bed.
But what I really want to know is how the sexy maid is getting a hold of all my stuff?
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
LOVE BUGS
Love bugs are out of control. They are worse than a needy lover.
It is wise and sensible in acknowledging too much of a good thing. If these bugs could get the heck away from each other every now and then they would not end up smooshed on the front of Floridians cars.
These little flying dummies haven't learned anything along the way. Even locked in lust gets old if you don't come up for air. If just to breathe and go back to what you were doing. At least you have a chance to see where you are going. Love bugs spend their short lives having a good time then get mortally smashed, and generally it is in one fell swoop. Not a pretty ending to a life of love.
I'm glad I'm a girl and not an insect. As Dad says "when you use your head for more than a hatrack Ivey Mae it will always help you." I've noticed it helps spread out the getting smooshed part.
And that's real easy to do if I limit how much I visit my mother.
It is wise and sensible in acknowledging too much of a good thing. If these bugs could get the heck away from each other every now and then they would not end up smooshed on the front of Floridians cars.
These little flying dummies haven't learned anything along the way. Even locked in lust gets old if you don't come up for air. If just to breathe and go back to what you were doing. At least you have a chance to see where you are going. Love bugs spend their short lives having a good time then get mortally smashed, and generally it is in one fell swoop. Not a pretty ending to a life of love.
I'm glad I'm a girl and not an insect. As Dad says "when you use your head for more than a hatrack Ivey Mae it will always help you." I've noticed it helps spread out the getting smooshed part.
And that's real easy to do if I limit how much I visit my mother.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
MILDEW
If I clean it out of my own bathrooms at home I sure as heck do not want to pay to look at it in a nice hotel. Do you know what I mean Vern?
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
SOME DECISIONS ARE EASIER THAN OTHERS
Today a wonderful friend from my childhood came to visit. We lived seven houses apart as children. Our mothers were instant friends. Good people. Nice family.
Judy visits from time to time when she flies in from wherever her jet setting single life takes her. No roots. No pets. No husband. Yet, we have exact common interests in life. Funny.
This year Judy has brought along her second cousin. Jane also went to school with us so it was a blast catching up. It is apparent right away there is more than meets the eye with Judy and Jane traveling together. Like the old folks say they are surely shackin up.
To make things interesting my two life long friends are very religious. Extremely so. But this particular evening they are not wearing their typical conservative clothing. Instead opting for shorts, tank tops and fresh Key Largo suntans.
Chase pops another beer can and I am surprised when my friend of thirty seven years asked him if he has any tequila. I have never seen her drink.
As the evening grows older I am considering this situation with much amusement. Apparently Judy has thrown all caution to the wind. I know one thing. She sure seems happy and good for her.
Festive colorful lanterns give off a sensual glow and the moon is so full and bright, it allures me while barbecue chicken sizzles in the air. It smells really good in our back yard.
"OK guys it is time to eat. The vittles are done." I tell my guests and we gather along the picnic table. Scorching Florida heat is still at bay and a slight breeze cools this charming night.
Jane excuses herself for the restroom as I go around to everybody at the table. I want to know what they would like to drink with dinner. I offer wine, ice tea, root beer and lemonade.
Judy gets this funny look on her face as I pour my twins a tall glass of cold ice tea and says
"You make the best ice tea! You sweeten it right?"
"Yes. With real sugar while it is still warm. That's why it's so good, do you want a glass?" I ask while leaning towards her with the pitcher.
"Oh, well, yes I do" she nervously answers at the same time looking back over her shoulder towards the house. My friend continues.
"But I probably better not."
Puzzled I look at her and ask "Why not?"
Peering in the direction of the back patio then towards me again she lowers her voice and says "It is so against our religion, caffeine and all that. Jane will get upset if I drink it."
By her expression she is dead serious. So I stifle my laugh and nod while pouring her glass full of lemonade instead.
But, I will tell you what. There are many choices in life that can be difficult and time worthy. Some taking months and perhaps years of careful consideration. This here is not one of them.
It is against her religion to have sex with the same gender but this doesn't upset Jane. It is against her religion to be intimate with her cousin. Again okie dokie with Jane. It is against her religion to wear revealing clothes and bathing suits as she and Jane have gorgeous tans in all the wrong places. And it against her religion to drink alcohol while toasting our friendship with a shot.
At this point I say go ahead and drink the ice tea.
Judy visits from time to time when she flies in from wherever her jet setting single life takes her. No roots. No pets. No husband. Yet, we have exact common interests in life. Funny.
This year Judy has brought along her second cousin. Jane also went to school with us so it was a blast catching up. It is apparent right away there is more than meets the eye with Judy and Jane traveling together. Like the old folks say they are surely shackin up.
To make things interesting my two life long friends are very religious. Extremely so. But this particular evening they are not wearing their typical conservative clothing. Instead opting for shorts, tank tops and fresh Key Largo suntans.
Chase pops another beer can and I am surprised when my friend of thirty seven years asked him if he has any tequila. I have never seen her drink.
As the evening grows older I am considering this situation with much amusement. Apparently Judy has thrown all caution to the wind. I know one thing. She sure seems happy and good for her.
Festive colorful lanterns give off a sensual glow and the moon is so full and bright, it allures me while barbecue chicken sizzles in the air. It smells really good in our back yard.
"OK guys it is time to eat. The vittles are done." I tell my guests and we gather along the picnic table. Scorching Florida heat is still at bay and a slight breeze cools this charming night.
Jane excuses herself for the restroom as I go around to everybody at the table. I want to know what they would like to drink with dinner. I offer wine, ice tea, root beer and lemonade.
Judy gets this funny look on her face as I pour my twins a tall glass of cold ice tea and says
"You make the best ice tea! You sweeten it right?"
"Yes. With real sugar while it is still warm. That's why it's so good, do you want a glass?" I ask while leaning towards her with the pitcher.
"Oh, well, yes I do" she nervously answers at the same time looking back over her shoulder towards the house. My friend continues.
"But I probably better not."
Puzzled I look at her and ask "Why not?"
Peering in the direction of the back patio then towards me again she lowers her voice and says "It is so against our religion, caffeine and all that. Jane will get upset if I drink it."
By her expression she is dead serious. So I stifle my laugh and nod while pouring her glass full of lemonade instead.
But, I will tell you what. There are many choices in life that can be difficult and time worthy. Some taking months and perhaps years of careful consideration. This here is not one of them.
It is against her religion to have sex with the same gender but this doesn't upset Jane. It is against her religion to be intimate with her cousin. Again okie dokie with Jane. It is against her religion to wear revealing clothes and bathing suits as she and Jane have gorgeous tans in all the wrong places. And it against her religion to drink alcohol while toasting our friendship with a shot.
At this point I say go ahead and drink the ice tea.
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