Ambersweet Joy

  A couple of years ago, I took my daughter Mother's Day shopping.  She had saved $20 dollars and it was burning a hole in her pocket.  Unable to pass the candy store, and having no understanding of the dollar per pound candy ratio, she instantly dropped five dollars on sour blue goodness and chocolaty delight.  Her shopping money dwindled down to $15 and there is not much that one can buy for $15 dollars at the mall these days.  She normally makes me a gift such as a painting or a card. I prefer these because they last forever, but... the money was speaking to her and it had to be spent. She was determined to find the perfect gift. We wandered in and out of stores discovering that everything she wanted to buy for me would take about six more months of her savings. Sensing her frustration, I spied the fancy soap collection in Hallmark and guided her in that direction. There was an ambersweet orange soap for $13 that was in her budget.  You must know that I'm the economy pack Ivory or Dove kind of gal, and would never spend $13 on a bar of soap.  However, we were running out of options. She picked up the bar and looked it over, noting that it was exactly in her price range.  Seizing a moment of opportunity, I exclaimed that I had always wanted one, but would never buy anything so extravagant for myself.  That was all she needed to hear.  I was quickly directed to the other side of the store so she could sneak to the counter with her treasure and check out.  I never stand too far away in case I have to throw tax money her way and pretend I have no idea what she is up to.

  Now that I've tested the waters of triple milled soap, I have to admit that I had no idea that luxury soaps were so nice.  They don't disappear in a handful of showers and they smell quite nice.  I put my special soap in the spare bath that nobody uses and when I get some alone time, I go in there and soap up with the special bar and lounge in the hot water and ambersweet orange soup I'm certainly bathing in.  It is nice.  When not used, the bar is placed in a dry spot so it won't dissolve away in a puddle of bath water residing in the soap dish.  It just so happens that one bar will last from Mother's Day to Christmas when I receive another. Next Mother's Day, she beats a path to Hallmark to buy my special soap. The smell of it makes me think of her and the love she showed trying to find the perfect gift that was just slightly less than a bag of candy and a $20 bill.  So as Mother's Day fast approaches, I hope that she will once again swing by the mall and buy another bar of soap with her left over candy money. 

Late night photo shoot

After a very long week of activities, some down-time is much needed.....

Silly pics with Al Cat.

Turn the Page

  

  Graduation time is upon us and as I made preparations to begin the task of sending out graduation announcements I felt a melancholy mood wash over me.  It was one of those milestones in life where you look back and smile at all the good memories. After my son and I "googled" where you put that little piece of onion paper inside the announcement and actually pieced together one complete graduation announcement that would make Emily Post proud, I reached for the address book to begin addressing the outer envelopes.  I remember making the next realization some time back, but I must have walked away from it and moved on to happier thoughts...

  Most of the people in my address book have slanted lines marking them out of existence.  One or two is to be expected, but when most every page is crossed out like a Bingo card, my melancholy mood turned to sadness.  The first name I happened onto was Ronnie Baker who died in his 40's of a broken heart that could not be mended.   Since alphabetizing obviously wasn't a strong suit when I once entered names into my book of friends, next came Benny, another dear friend, who suffered from chronic pain that must have been intolerable as he took his life one night just outside his own front door. Benny was one of those men that always made you feel like you were such an important part of his life even if he hadn't seen you in a year.  Still in the B's..... Skip Brodnax was next, my brother-in-law and pilot who died in a plane crash somewhere deep in the Ozark mountains. His mother Virginia Brodnax, who certainly knew the pain of a broken heart, died a few years later. Overwhelmed with the "B" section of my address book, I flipped wildly to the back hoping for better results and happened on to the T's where I ran across Toby, another good friend who found life too painful to bear.  All good people cut short in life.

  My address book was full of lost friends, lost loves that made me smile when I thought of them and a handful of people who remained strong in my life.  It was clear, as I sat there with a stack of 50 announcements, that there are people in my life who need to be added to my book of friends.  I began tearing out pages, removing the slash marks and filling the empty spaces with the names of friends and family I should stay in closer contact with.  This time around, I listed them in proper alphabetical order with last name first instead of using whatever random method I obviously used once upon a time.  My friend David Brewer, thank God, was not listed on the "B" page as he had self entered his name in the "S" section as Stud Muffin.  His wife and my dear friend Jan entered her information as the second "S" entry.  My address book is much more organized now and full of current addresses of important friends and family in my life, all deserving of an announcement that my son is graduating. While some have fallen off the pages, they still make me smile when I think of them.  At the back of the address book, filed after "Z" is a list of names of people who no longer have a physical address, but still have a place in my world.  

Bringing Down the Apple

 

  When I upgraded from a Gateway desktop to a HP laptop, I knew I was taking a giant step forward in the world of advanced technology. When I left the HP by the wayside because I had Apple Fever and procured my first Macbook, I felt like I had joined an elite club of tech savvy beautiful people. The glow, alone, from the little apple on the backside of my screen produced an endorphin rush that brought joy and happiness.  It was much like being the first house in neighborhood to go green. Those little glowing apples were like quiet high fives to other Apple users who smiled proudly because they knew a similar joy.  Before long, I discovered a world of wonderful things that could be plugged into my laptop.... iPods, iPhones, cameras with 10,000 pictures of my children, flash drives, motion sensor game cameras and so much more. My laptop exuded it's own aura of coolness and reminded me that I was of a generation of people who recycled, carried good music in their pocket and were plugged in to a world of knowledge that was right at their fingertips.... Until the day my husband attempted to give up smoking and handed me his electronic cigarette that charges by plugging into my USB port.  The picture above instantly stripped my laptop of all coolness and sends a new message that has never been sent from one glowing Apple to another.  Some things should never be joined together.  I may officially be out of the club, now.

Update on Charlie

After a few days of sleeping on a bed of fluff, Charlie has moved on to higher ground.  His final days were peaceful and full of love from a family he only knew for a small moment in time.   

Spring Has Arrived

 

It is a beautiful weekend here and while my blog privileges have been restored, I simply cannot write today.  There are beautiful places that need to be visited.

 

The Old Mill

2013

 

Same Old Mill in Opening Scene of Gone With The Wind

Filmed 1939

Charlie the Cat

Artist:  Hulya Ozkok

  If a blind, deaf cat were to be lost from home and wandering about in the rain, you can be certain that it would make its way to my house, as all things lost and damaged seem to find the path to my door.   My daughter would be first to sense the overwhelming need of a malnourished, half dead cat making its way here.

  As we had just finished a large Easter feast and returned home for lengthy afternoon napping, it was Allie who ran in to inform me of a crazed looking cat attempting to limp down the road, blind and deaf to barking dogs and oncoming traffic.  I stood in the rain and watched my child stare at the wildebeest looking feline who wandered aimlessly past our house in an unsighted world making its way forward with no plan and no hope.  It's sides were sunken, it's eyes were matted and its fur clearly told how it had been lost in the rain and cold for a lengthy period of time.  It was oblivious to the dangers around it and simply continued forward as there were no other options.

  Plan A was to dump some cat food in front of the cat, pray for sudden strength and hope that it would wander on its way to better places.  Unfortunately, that plan failed quickly as the cat was past the point of eating.  It continued taking one step after another into the mud and the mire. I'm uncertain exactly what it was looking for at that point as food and water were there before it.  I suppose safety and comfort were a much greater need than Meox Mix and rain water. It was time for Plan B.

  I donned my favorite furry gloves and proceeded towards the cat with a giant beach towel, hoping that gloves and the towel would somehow separate me from unknown cat diseases should the gentle kitty suddenly turn wild.  He stopped in his forced march forward and allowed me to scoop him up in a dry towel and place him in a bin that separated him from the rain and cold and certain demise.

  Charlie, as he was quickly named, is now sleeping quietly in a kennel in my garage surrounded by Cat chow crumbs and fluffy towels.   Tomorrow he will travel to the vet for a better assessment than I can give.  If it's safe to remove the barrier of furry gloves and beach towels that still stand between my children and the cat, then Charlie will continue with some much needed nursing and make his way to a cat shelter in Hot Springs, a popular resort town for retirees and lost cats.  Good Luck Charlie.