Stepping out...

A Sense of Two Yesterdays

2008-09-26T21:07:00.007-04:00

Yesterday. It was the 25th of September – the day that showed the real first change in the weather where I live. The early morning was a little chilly and the floors of the house were cold on the bottoms of my feet. Outside, the air was crisp and filled with the sweet aroma of the earth not yet fully disturbed by the sun. Clean and fresh.

The grass and the colorful leaves on the trees were all painted with a thin sheet of morning dew. They seemed to communicate, sending each other messages, glistening, flirting and winking back and forth. Silence blanketed the earth with the exceptions of the crickets softly chirping from their grassy hideaways and the sweet distant sounds of two birds singing their secrets to one another.

My skin responded with a slight chill as a soft breeze passed over me, yet my mind responded even stronger.

Memories can be so sweet…drawn back to you through all of your senses. The sounds, the smells, and the tastes...the surreal appearance a day can sometimes take on. The whole feeling of it all seemed to take me back to another yesterday. It was a yesterday when friends were countless, the future held its arms wide inviting you to all of its possibilities and sadly, for some reason, a yesterday when growing up couldn’t come fast enough.

My mind brought me beautiful visuals of days from my past –days that felt just this way. I found a feeling of freedom, a peace, an entrancing contentment as I remembered. So now I smile from the heart at my yesterdays...both of them.

100% Liar...Honest

2008-09-15T10:51:00.004-04:00

I am laughing as I write this. I am amazed and even amused at the amount of unnecessary lies some people will tell for absolutely no reason at all. None of us can claim that we've held steady to complete and total truth 100% of the time...not you and not even me (whew that was hard!) but we'll keep it "hush hush" if it makes me...uh, I mean you feel better. The thing is, some people take this to a new level of extreme.

I met a very interesting person (who will remain nameless) about ten months ago whom I have found myself spending a little time with here and there. Until recently I couldn't quite figure out why. Now, I have come to the decision that it is an acquaintance I've pursued all in fun.

This is not a person I would tell my secrets to by any means because there's no doubt it would take minus five seconds before they were all out in the open. Yes I have secrets...so do you. This is the person you tell something to if you want everyone on earth and all nearby planets possibly inhabited with life to know it with incredible, fictional, added twists.

I find that I love having a conversation with her because all that she says is based on whatever her imagination can throw out at the moment. I am simply entertained. For example, I spoke with her on the phone and she told me she would love for me to stop by later. I told her I might. Later in the conversation, she'd forgotten about the invite (or not) and casually informed me that she had steaks on the grill, was frying some potatoes and had a pot of collards going.

After we hung up, I went into town to take care of some things and figured I would stop by her house for a quick five and say hello before I headed home. There were no steaks, no potatoes and no collards at her house. The grill hadn't even been touched. Instead, she was on her couch eating frozen pizza. No it wasn't still frozen...she had cooked it it first.

Now, I can't say that what she was having for dinner on that night was of any life changing relevance to me or that I have the slightest clue what any possible reason behind her story could be. I can say that I found myself quietly amused once again. It is one of the many, many fictional tales that have flowed from her lips since I have known her and it has no purpose. She didn't tell me this to protect me or to keep from hurting my feelings. She didn't tell me this to protect someone else or herself.

The girl could be brushing her teeth when you call her and tell you she was mowing the lawn. I think we all know one or two people like this and between us, I've decided to give some of her personality to one of the characters in a book I am currently writing. I'm going to have some fun with this one.

Smile

2008-09-15T10:37:00.006-04:00

Yesterday is History.

Tomorrow is a Mystery.

But Today?

Today is a Gift.

That's why it is called The Present.

Family Reunion

2008-09-15T07:46:00.007-04:00

Yesterday was my annual Family Reunion, always held on the second Sunday of September. I've never missed one. My family is a crazy bunch, the whole lot of them, and we always try to do something fun to keep it interesting. So this year, aside from all the fabulous foods, we had a play and an auction.

The play was a comedy about a young boy who was lost in the woods trying to find his way home and all the strange animals and characters he met along the way. Some of the characters helped him along and some did nothing but confuse him. It was put on by a select handful of us, myself included, was complete improvisation and utterly hilarious!

The auction is something we do every year. We all bring things from home then we auction these things off after we've all eaten. This is a blast to watch. There is a bidding competition that takes place here and there that can become so vicious it can end in your paying $30 for a two-dollar item. It's all in fun and the money made from the auction is used to pay for the cost of renting the building for the following year. Any cash left over is sent to a selected family member in need who might be experiencing rough times with finances or medical issues.

When I was a kid, the Family Reunion was just something my parents dragged me off to. These days, I see it so differently. I realize just how lucky I am to have such a large group of caring people to call my family. Not all of us are so fortunate. On that note, I have decided to make my own personal reunions throughout the year. I've come to feel that one simple day out of 365 of them is not quite enough quality time spent with some of these wonderful people.

What Do You See?

2008-09-03T06:38:00.000-04:00

I came across this picture on a free image site and I couldn't stop staring at it. The meanings are endless. Is she seeing something for the first time? Is she going? Is she leaving something behind?

I found it to be elegant and beautifully done and I wanted to share. I'd love to give credit to the artist but unfortunately I was unable to pin it to anyone. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

A Little Bit Pissed

2008-09-03T03:30:00.000-04:00

Just when is it OK for a person to give another person’s child any sort of drug?

Having brought home colds from school a week ago, both my boys were a bit stuffy headed. Yesterday, after a trip to grandma’s house, they each came home with their own personal bottle of nasal spray. In my absence they had been instructed on how to use this nasal spray. To top it all off, they were told that it is harmless so they can use it as many times a day as they wanted because it will not only help them to kick the last signs of the cold they were both getting over now, but it will keep them from getting sick again in the future.

WHAT?

These things were told to an eleven year old and a seven year old...by an adult.

First of all, I have never given either of my children nasal spray. The mere thought of either of them sticking anything up their little noses for any reason, lest it be dire, just doesn’t sit right with me.

Second of all, I do things a little different with my children than most. I don’t flip out and run my ass to the medicine cabinet at the first sign of a cough from them. In no way do I believe that you should allow your children to suffer when they are sick and yes, if they truly and honestly do need medicine, I think you should give it to them - for the symptoms they truly have and nothing more. But…when it is possible (which is most cases) I feel that the better, more beneficial way to handle it is to allow your child’s immune system to do exactly what it is designed for and take out the trash itself.

When your child has a simple cold, then is not the time for you to rush out for prescription antibiotics so that you can load them up with that and give their body tolerance to something they may really need in the future. I do realize that all of this may not apply to all of you, but it's how this mom handles things.

Excuse me? The whole nasal spray situation is an extremely dangerous one. Many of them are addicting if used improperly. Others have extreme side effects some of which are hyponatremia, seizures and even death. Misuse of nasal sprays is just not a good idea. Oh, and not to mention…just how in the hell did our children survive years ago? You know…way before this nasal spray jazz, anyhow? And don’t get me started on Ritalin…that’s a whole other post!

So my question is this...

If you are not mom or dad or guardian etc. then is it ever your right to do something like this?

I'm thinking, if you know nothing about something then there is never a right time for you to be passing that along to any child at all. DUH!

O rly? Omg! WTF??

2008-08-27T23:47:00.000-04:00

roflmfao

So…the Internet comes with its very own language. It was only recently that I realized just how educated in this language I have truly become. I came across a quiz the other day that let me test my "knowledge" of what is known as "l33t speak". I do have to say, I am a bit confused with this. I mean, am I educated in this new language or have I simply become uneducated in the true form of the English language.

All that said, I was inspired to add this link to this quiz here so that all of my visitors might have the chance to test their own education or un-education...lol, w/e!! You decide, but don't forget to come back and tell me how you scored. Ttyl.

http://www.youthink.com/quiz.cfm?action=go_detail&sub_action=take&obj_id=92618&filter=popular&f_cat_id=5&time_span=latest

What I'm Really Thinking

2008-08-23T21:43:00.000-04:00

First, I want to talk about Teresa. Teresa is the girl who never stops talking. It is virtually impossible to have any sort of conversation with her because she has a set of lungs the size of the Good Year Blimp, an endless air supply and lips that would put the Energizer Bunny to shame. Teresa jumps from topic to topic without hesitation but her favorite subject is definitely “I”.

We all have a Teresa in our lives and, admit it, it almost impossible to stay focused on the conversation that she is having. Below is a list of things I might really be thinking while Teresa tangles my hair into knots with all that hot air.

1) Hmm…I think I’ll check out that new movie about the invasion of earthworms tonight.
2) Can earthworms really be both sexes?
3) I wonder what it would be like if humans could be both sexes…successfully, I mean.
4) If humans were both sexes, would we all be single?
5) Hey, I bet I could write a really cool sci-fi book about single, a-sexual humanoid people.
6) If I wrote that book it could be one serious trip of a movie.
7) Hmm…what was that movie I was going to watch again?
8) Did I turn the television off before I left the house?
9) How much electricity does a single television use, anyway?
10) What if it storms while I’m gone and my television is hit by lightening?
11) An eel has a similar shape to a worm and some eels are electric.
12) Hmm…I wonder if it would be possible for an eel to power my television.
13) Oh wow…she’s still talking. I should throw in a quick “yeah” or “uh huh” here so she thinks I’m still with her.
14) While the sky is particularly beautiful today, I should probably throw in some quick eye contact too. Yeah that did the trick.
15) Now…what was that movie again?

Back to School

2008-08-22T19:58:00.000-04:00

"Mom, I got in a fight today."

It is two days into the new school year for my second-grader and these were his first words to me when he walked in the door this afternoon. I took a moment to look him over (for expression as well as cuts and bruises) and he seemed ok. "Sit down and tell me what happened." I said.

Now, this young fellow has enough energy to power the entire country and at least half of another one. His story was full of animation and demonstration and was just as entertaining as it was unsettling. To sum it all up it turned out to be a normal spat between young minds that turned physical. These things happen every day so it is no surprise to me that one of my two boys would come home with such a story on any given day. There is, however, something rather disturbing about the whole situation.

To explain a bit, I have given my two young warriors an order and I expect them to follow it. They both understand that if they take the steps they have been instructed to take, in the order they should be taken, and they still end up in a fight at school, there will be no trouble at home. My little one followed this order as best he could and still came home with this news.

Although the fight occurred on the school bus, the making of it began at school early in the day. In class, the boy snatched my son's pencil from his desk and would not give it back. While telling his teacher that the boy took his pencil he was told to "sit down" and "be quiet". Nothing was done about this except for a brief speech to my son about "responsibility and keeping up with his own supplies" when he later asked to borrow one of hers. Of coarse, the other boy had to giggle about this and taunt my son a little because that's how these things go.

At recess, this same boy rushes toward the swing my son is getting into, shoves him out of the way and into the dirt, snatching the swing up for himself. I am sure you can picture the scenario. My son takes this to the teacher on duty who does not ask who the offender is but instead, explains to him that he will be in trouble and lose his recess if he doesn't keep his hands to himself, try to get along with others and play nice.

There was also an incident during lunch where this same boy walked by my son and casually brushed some of his food onto the floor. The teacher noticed the mess, scolded my son and made him clean it up. He struggled to tell her what had happened but he could hardly get a word in much less her full attention.

Throughout the day he fought to be heard and no one would hear him. It was as if part of the teacher's dress code requirement was a good, solid set of earplugs. Possibly they were even pre-tested and hired using a 'lackofattentionometer'. There is no surprise that this fight occurred when nothing was ever done to rectify its build up in the first place. While I take note that at least the bus driver had sense enough to separate the two, after hearing all of these events, I could think of only one question to ask my son. I took his little hands, looked into his little eyes and with anticipation I asked him...

"Well, son...did you win?"

Flying Free

2008-08-20T20:53:00.000-04:00

At the age of 82, Mae Riverton was the most prim and proper, well-dressed, well-mannered, perfect description of a real southern lady that I had ever laid eyes on. This woman could bake a cake that would bring tears of joy your eyes. She was the type who listened well and when she spoke, her words were calm and wise. Being a treasured friend of our family and a close friend of my mother's, we saw her quite often.

Wednesday had somehow declared itself our official "have lunch together" day and we were all loaded up in my mother's van, headed to the local buffet. The sun was shining, the mood was pleasant and conversation was flowing when suddenly, out of nowhere, this maniac driver flies up from behind us and cuts us off right in front of our turn. My mother struggles at the wheel for a moment but manages to keep things in control as we run off of the road and come to a stop on the sidewalk.

"Are we all ok in here?" She asks. But before the words could finish leaving her lips, the passenger door had slammed shut and we were all staring outside in surprise at Mae. This fragile little southern bell stood at the front of the car with her left hand holding the sleeve of her right arm down and her right arm holding a hand, held high, flying the bird! The obscenities she shouted as she aimed her gesture at the driver, who was now pulling a u-turn in the restaurant parking lot, were not as harsh as some I have heard, but you can bet that coming from Mae they were more powerful than any you could imagine.

Once the offending driver (although offended should be more like it) had exited the parking lot and drove away, Mae rolled her sleeve back down, straightened her dress, patted her hair down and calmly got back in the car. The silence lasted all of about thirty seconds while she sat there as if nothing had happened and we all stared at her in shock. I still can't remember which one of us started laughing first, but the laughter lasted a whole lot longer.

Mae certainly stepped out that day and I don't think any of us that were witness to it will ever forget it. Over lunch, we laughed about it some more and even harder when she declared that her only wish was..."Don't tell my kids.
"