Wednesday, June 30, 2010

lily and the bird

We used to be a freakin' cat breeding house up here on the hill. They are just "so cute" when they're stray and starving. Lauren's first cat came was named Screamer. All of them since then have had names, even the ones who went onto kitty heaven. Well...maybe not the ones who got born in the basement where Mr. Snake lives. I lost count on that batch. Not too long after the sometimes off again on again roommate took that brood to live at the dairy farm the river for target practice , BG got a calico as a Christmas present from her boss and his mom. Lily was promptly fixed so that we would not have grandkittens, and their love affair began. Lilypie sat on Sandy's shoulder, and she recognized me as the elder of this house so that's where she perched in her early days on Pecan Lane *meow*

BG has totally spoiled her rotten with long lazy naps over the years. I never noticed the mockingbird until she pointed out to me the fact that Lily is scared to go outside when her natural demeanor is to prowl around the farm. This bird is LOUD and has his bluff in on our crazyass cat. Luckily I'm at the sawmill most days and don't hear that drama. It's enough just to listen to the bitching up in there about who said what when and how that all worked out. Corporate America......gotta love it.

Meanwhile, back in the ocean it seems that the hay didn't work and that gusher is getting tossed to and fro by our first hurricane of the season. The cynical side of me wants to get all pissy about Obama playing golf while our southeastern coast gets soaked with crude, but then I remember when Dubya rode smooth past all of the issues that he inherited and I blame us rather than them. As long as our societies depend on imported shit to grow the economy, there is no future for mother earth. What really pisses me off is that corporate America sold out an entire generation to cheap labor in other countries when we could have done it ourselves with compassion, dignity and decent healthcare. Shame on you insurance and big pharmacy. Good on the ones of us who do it because we love people and believe in change.


Tuesday, June 29, 2010

that high mountain

I remembered reading somewhere that our dear friend had been in a bike wreck and was in critical condition, a plea for prayers to save his life. As it turned out, that was not Big Ernie's plan and he died today following a valiant effort by medical folks to save his life. We went to school together and reunited at the kudzu bar back in the days when we all hung out there to catch up on life. He and Yaya laughingly called each other cousin in that second or third degree sort of way that makes kissing not alright but hugging a blessing. His wife came often and loved ladies night with us. He was always handy with the dollars when a girl just needed to blow off some steam and forget about real life for an evening. Because, hey....that's how he rolled. Always happy....a perpetual goofy smile plastered all over his aging face with those wire rims propped neatly on his nose.

I made several lifelong friends during the time that I was a regular up in the kudzu. I don't see most of them very often anymore, but I know that if I need help they'll be there. Redneck friend is one of those. Gigi is another, not to mention Mama Leler. Yaya and I just kinda sorta had our mid-life crisis reunion up in there because was time to play and somebody always watches a ladies' back at that place. Our mother grew up in this county together and still do bridge club every other week. Meeting place TBA, but always food and cards involved.

My brother took me on a tour of the farm yesterday evening in the gator, with Bandit in the back. There was lots to look at what with the levee repair following the great flood of May '10. You know....the big one where I almost died in the back of a crackhead's truck. Sheesh. I totally wish I was kidding. The temps around here are below 90 right now with lower humidity so it seemed like a good opportunity to explore. The southern part of Dyersburg business district proper looks like a ghost town these days. Many buildings have been condemned and the ones still standing are not occupied. The potential for cleaning up that part of town and making it successful is great but so far FEMA hasn't done anything but hang handpainted wooden signs on the front dead soldiers. I can totally imagine that some big fat honking government crew will come up in there and level the place. Or not.

Hope springs eternal in my book, not to mention faith.

Sunday, June 27, 2010

small world

Friday afternoon, just after I raved about how nice it was to watch the rain move in, the storm that followed knocked out the power at my parents' house down the road. My brother was at work and called to tell me to check on them in about an hour and see if it was back on because, heaven forbid that Daddy not get to experience his Law and Order loop! When I called, he was ready to come on up and watch a little TV so I went down to pick him up and he came out with his short pajamas on, cowboy boots, a pillow and blanket under his arm and holding his pee jug. I'd show you a picture but it would scare you to death, so just use your imagination. He moved from my room to BG's room and back again, and then I went down to get Mom.

By the time we got back up here he had managed to mess up both remotes, so it quickly became bedtime. Mama slept on her sister's ex-couch fully clothed and like a baby. Daddy never stirred from BG's bed, even though he claims he was up at the buttcrack of dawn. We knew better when he stumbled into the living room to find us girls laughing about BG's night at the hotel. It's the first time in about three years that he has slept in a bed, always on vigil and stretched out on the couch, listening for something that Mama night need. The pee jug thing started when he slept upstairs and didn't want to navigate the steps during the night. Five us of lived there together and shared one bathroom back in the day. The boys usually just went outside I imagine... can't remember exactly how it went. Our rooms were on the second floor and there was a big window attic fan that kept us cool during the hot and humid summer bedtimes. I couldn't have been more than four or five, but I remember it like it was yesterday.

A couple of friends came by this afternoon and I found out, quite by accident, that one of them is the daughter of an old runnin' buddy of mine. He and HIS buddy used to host an annual Brain Fry out at other buddy's Daddy's farm, usually in the fall. We were much younger then, by the way. Sometimes I wonder if we're the least bit wiser. Time will tell.


Friday, June 25, 2010

like the rain

For the second consecutive afternoon I have treated myself to sitting on the front porch swing watching the storms roll in. We needed the rain, ya'll. Everything was beginning to wither up and die like in the grapes of wrath or something and then all of a sudden BE came through with some nice little showers on the cotton, corn and beans. Oh...and my flowers too! On my way home from the SECOND dollar store stop after work, I noticed that the hay guy and girl team had wrapped things up in spite of yesterday's sprinkle. Today is a decent rain to top it all off. Thanks dude ^j^

My friend who so very generously offered to give me a free ride to see The Eagles and Chicks sent a message when he got back and has posted some very nice pictures. Not quite like being there, but maybe we can afford hot dogs and beans for the next month after paying "the big one" split in half over a month *sigh* There's also the propane guy sitting about twenty miles south of Pecan Lane not saying a word about the gas he gave me on credit before it turned into hell in a handbasket up in here. I can see the gutters dripping now outside these ancient windows because they've not been cleaned in many years. Too much house for just a girl to handle.

On a *lighter* note, Yaya did well with her heart cath this morning and there was no intervention required so she's good to go find out what could be causing the still present pain. Ain't getting old a blast? Luckily I got my gallbladder out at the age of seventeen by the old school method of cut your belly wide open. That's when I first smoked a cig in front of my mother, back when you could actually SMOKE IN HOSPITAL ROOMS! I kept dragging that IV pole and bag back and forth to the potty and she finally told me just to sit down and smoke in the bed instead of making her get up and take me to the bathroom. When I woke up from surgery, there was a big fat vase of red roses from one boyfriend sitting on the table. That's when the other one showed up and proceeded to write poetry for me during the months prior to high school graduation. Haven't talked to either of them in years.

God is great, beer is good and people are crazy ^j^

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

global warming

For the record, I totally did my part by purchasing fuel efficient Asian made cars for the past 20 years. There was the oil gel settlement problem which TMC failed to tell me about until it went into class action AFTER my cousin Kenny's buddy Scott pushed the whole thing through on my two year old Camry. Warranty? Not without a fight over proper maintenance records. As it turned out, there was this big fat honking known problem with the oil and fluid systems in certain models mixing all that stuff up and turning it into sludge which local handymen charged an arm and a leg to clean out. Nobody would touch it with a ten foot pole. All's well that ends well, I suppose. I got a new engine with only 30K miles on it presently, but the tires are kinda shitty and the body needs work. Not to mention the crumbly concrete bird bath parts in the back seat where Daddy rides to our Sunday brunch date.

It wasn't meant to be for Poops to get up early and work hard all day, ride four hours to see the Eagles and stand in line to pee. One unpaid day off at the sawmill equals disaster for the upcoming ginormous utility bill. I expect that monthly debt to equal the rent sometime in the summer of '10. That is precisely when the fat lady will sing on Pecan Lane. I promise I'll leave it looking better than when I came here because that's what good scouts do, on our honor. I'm already way ahead on that one.


Tuesday, June 22, 2010

prayin' for rain

At this point, sittin' on the field at Busch stadium in a rainstorm looks like fun and ya'll know how much I need me some fun. Heck...if the skies opened up with some fresh water I'd dance in my own front yard, nekkid as a jaybird. I doubt the neighbors would notice because they're crazy as batshit. Our landlord insists on doing things by the letter of the law, even when there was one particularly elderly dementia patient handing out leases nilly willy. We tried to tell 'em what was up but nobody listened.

Me and Yaya went up to the lake for our redneck friend's son's wedding a couple of years ago and I'll be damned if we didn't experience some stormy weather because it was so freakin' hot. Next morning when her fella got up to explore we found a big fat pine tree laying smooth across George's red truck. The rest of the pines were on the power lines and in the yard. No electricity since about midnight probably. We visited the local VFW on that trip and I saw my first ever red lab running out behind the back deck. Haven't seen one since, by the way. The breeder gave me his number but I lost it somewhere along the way to my current life. Poor old Faith isn't interested in that kinda thing anymore, bless her heart. She just wants to stay cool.

I've got to hand it to the power company up around that area because they sent a nice looking crew of young sweaty well paid men to repair the damage to George and Judy's yard. It was like watching a jigsaw puzzle being worked observing them do their thing without catching the whole dang place on fire. I reckon it's a Kentucky Lake and dudes on overtime thing.

Faith is nudging me to get ready for bed and I always sometimes listen to what she has to say ^j^

Monday, June 21, 2010

granola oil

Like most southern women of my era, I learned to fry up things in a hot greasy iron skillet, even in the dead of summer...maybe especially so then because that's when the garden comes in. My mama canned a whole shit load of green beans with home grown dill and garlic cloves back in the day. She also managed to save enough sweet corn and purple hull peas for special occasions like Thanksgiving or somebody's birthday. Like it or not, there was always a ketchup bottle in the picture when we gathered around their table. I've got pictures to prove it.

Thanks to Rachel Ray and the health gurus, I've switched to EVOO as my oil of choice. There are fresh herbs growing in pots out back that get watered most every day. And there are little salad 'maters growing out of concrete blocks, a tribute to my father's agricultural genius. BG loves them, especially when mixed with basil and garlic left to sit in the frig for a week or so. I may have to buy some bigger ones to make that special spaghetti sauce unless daddy decides to share from HIS concrete blocks.

As I was heading down the basement steps to look for seven dust the other day I spotted this ginormous snake skin on the concrete ledge to the left. Dude usually hangs it from the tree out back about this time of year so I can only imagine that he's down there slithering around trying to find a cool spot. Thank goodness we've got the doors blocked with rolled up towels. If ya'll hear a scream, it's me when I get the next utility bill for this old house. I imagine that's when I'll finish the packing and move on.

One of the heirs seems to have an interest in the history of how he came to be a co-owner of Pecan Lane and the surrounding acreage. He and my brother and I met in my kitchen last fall to go through the mounds of paper that were on daddy's office floor in the upstairs where nobody ever goes. Once upon a time, all five of us slept up there. I had my own room just like my brothers did. Our parents slept in the UT room in separate beds and snored to high heaven. That was before I ever even heard of tylenol pm as a sleep aid.

I reckon it all worked out. We're all still kicking with another baby grandgirl on the way due right around her brother's birthday in late September. That circle is still unbroken. Far be it from me to be the one to make a fuss and get people all pissed off about life. It's always been thus and so.

Sunday, June 20, 2010

heat wave

I stopped by Gigi's this morning on the way to pick up my parents and found her watering the garden of eden that surrounds her pool. According to her, they needed a shower worse than a dead man needs a coffin. First time I'd ever heard that one, and I thought I had heard them all. We had a relaxing day there yesterday and at moments it was quiet enough to hear the birds. Until the guy next door fired up his old racecar. I think he does it once a day just to show that he can. Her nephew "two scoops" decided that I looked so happy in the water that he jumped in without his floaties OR a second thought. Luckily I was standing there close enough to grab him. I wish ya'll could have seen the look on his chubby little face when we came up together!

Against all odds and reason, I'm planning to see not just The Eagles but also Dixie Chicks at Busch stadium on Thursday. It will be mighty hot and ya'll know how I hate to sweat so that tells you right there I'm a serious fan. If I die of heat exhaustion just divide up the china and silver amongst yourselves. At least I'll pass on to glory with that one under my belt and a smile on my face.

This is an inside day, at least until the sun drops a whole lot lower. The crops need rain soon, though they're doing quite well at the moment. I have no doubt it will come just exactly when Big Ernie plans for it to. It's hard to imagine that we were flooded to the eyeballs just a little over a month ago. Feast or famine, as they say. I've been asked to help do some research on the history of this farm which is something that has always intrigued me. Old timers told me about a little bar that used to sit off of the main road called Cotton's next to the river. As fate would have it, my ex-husband's grandfather was shot and killed over there! Go figure.

Father's Day this year was lunch at Mary Lou's at Dusty Joe's and it was fantastic. Sweet creamed corn, fried okra, fried boneless pork chops and cornbread. Purple hull peas too! If BG wakes up in time, I may cook some fried green 'maters for she and BF. He's had a few days off and has chilled with us. She's working again, thank the lord. It took her forever to learn how to sleep at night and now she's working graveyard again *sigh* Bless.Her.Heart.

Ya'll call your daddy if you haven't already. He won't be around forever.


Friday, June 18, 2010

patient's advocate

I spent a day off from my job traveling with my mother as she glided flawlessly through something that could have been a really rough experience. Stress tests involve a lot of image taking and in her case, drugs to simulate a heart at full throttle. We arrived right on time, pre-registered by phone with a very short wait time prior to our entrance to the radiology department where the tests are performed. There was a nurse, cardiologist, and several members of the radiology and respiratory therapy staff all taking care of her like she was THEIR mama. I wandered over to my department during a break from picture taking and found out that I was much better off not being on the clock on this particular Friday. Thank the lord for small things. I will be sharing with my administrators exactly how wonderful the whole experience was because....hey. Getting happy cards is what we're all about!

Mama wondered out loud at one point how people who don't have family or other caretakers manage to get through the maze that is healthcare today. She is blind and depends on others to show her where to sign what and what pills go in each day of the week's little spot in the plastic organizer. It is a labor of love that many people do for their family members and friends and I feel certain that when the time comes, karma will visit me. We ran into the daughter of one of her bridge buddies in the cafeteria and caught up on Ms. Mary's condition following a nasty fall when they played last. They're a determined bunch, I have to say. For fifty years they've been trading recipes, raising kids and grandkids, eating yummy stuff and playing a serious game or two of cards all at the same time. I always thought it was sad when one of them had to be the dummy :)

The last two pieces of land that were formerly cattle and horse feed are in the process of being planted. It is seriously hot as hades around here....enough to take your breath away. BG's BF got her a window unit air conditioner just so she can stay cool when she closes her door to sleep. My afternoon routine these days is to wait until the sun goes down enough that my front porch is shady. It's a great place to sit and do my nails and such. Not that sugardaddy will ever notice.

^j^ Have a great Father's Day weekend.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

what's a blog?

I remember asking my friend the Count one time what it was all about when he suggested it as an avenue for journaling. This was pre-FB tweets, so we only met each other through Yahoo or by reading one another's life, one story at a time. Some of them made me howl with laughter, and those remain my favorites along with the farm people and otherwise out of the mainstream. Take Mahala for instance! There was this guy in Arizona one time named Lightning Bug's Butt who could do something like a vaudeville show with bullet points and everything. Not a clue what happened to him. Dude is probably running for governor considering all the discontent over there....right? The fed is huge and it's up to us now to work together as peaceful states of our sometimes peaceful union to figure out how to care for ourselves locally. The check will eventually NOT be there and we'll all in a slow boat to China.

Some of us sawmill folks gathered for dinner last night and the talk turned to politics just as soon as we were sure everybody and their mama was okay. I have to give it to him, we do eat well and I guess that's what's important. BG and I had consumed a couple of fruit drinks poolside with Gigi, totally pissed off that the sun didn't come back after that hailstorm we rode through. I love spending free time with her because she's organized enough to get things done but not have an agenda. She goes with the flow, which is something I'm trying to learn.

Some smartass told me that global warming isn't real and I would have kicked his ass if it didn't involve sweating but just opening the door is all it takes these days for me to back on up and take a cool shower. The lawn yard looks decent except for that big pile over by the mailbox that you- know- who failed to move before he went nuckin' futz again. You can't miss's the one with the poke growing straight up toward virginia creeper draped from ancient pecan limbs. That's how I met Idgie and Phyllis and Jen and ...uh. To be continued.
We're tweaking our schedule with the grands and BG has her hotel gig back so things are looking up. Too soon to tell, but I may just manage to knock something off of my bucket list soon if the work gods will play nice. When the offer came to me, I remembered the time that I gave my cherished JT tickets to a kid and his dad and they had a blast. Hey...I had already seen him a few times, including once in the rain.

It's almost time for the annual stargazer and tiger lily festival.

I guess it's true what they say...."What goes around comes around."

Saturday, June 12, 2010

revisiting the classics

I found myself with a bit of spare time today and began to read, once again, a book that changed my life in many ways. "Dying Well" by Ira Byock was the cornerstone of my turn away from clinical medicine with more attention to the details of life quality and opportunities for families to heal before it's too late. The hospice philosophy is not new, by any means. Our hero Ms. EK Ross had a nice little hospice for HIV patients in Virginia during her heyday. I've silently plotted for about five years now to make some sort of humane difference with the patients that I serve, even if it's just a hug ( IF they don't stink too bad or bite me!) It's hard to do that when you run instruments all day behind closed doors. The family dynamics involved with a death are intense at best and a dang free for all in the worst case scenario of many families.

Back when I was on call a lot, I got summoned to the emergency room around 4AM to draw a blood alcohol. No big deal....until I cracked open the door and spotted this obviously very passed out guy with mismatched socks poking out over his feet. When I got closer and saw that he wasn't breathing, I ran out to the nurse's station and was told he'd been laying in a ditch all night after a wreck and was just found. YIKES!!! In case you didn't realize it, you can't draw blood from dead people's veins because well...there's just no flow there. Whatever ER doc was on that night asked told me to get it from his heart. Uh. I don't think so dude. Do it yourself because you make the big bucks , not me. They've also tried to make me stick feet before when all the arm veins are gone, but that's not in my job description either. It's freakin' amazing what a doctor will do when he or she doesn't get it like they want it, in a timely manner and all correct and with respect and such. My mother's new cardiologist is an exception to that rule, by the way.

Anywho....back to the hospice thing. When BG was a senior in HS she needed help with her term paper and I was pretty well educated on that subject so we tackled it together and did quite well. My Christmas present from mama and daddy that year was a book written by a DC physician about ethics and procedures for humane and loving end of life care. Palliative, to speak that lingo. It was about this time that I met Einstein's mama Lori through our blogs. She wrote often about her experiences as a hospice volunteer, doing aftercare with families. What most folks don't realize is that with the normal aging and disease processes there is plenty of time for most of us to accept that it's almost over and take care of business. Modern medicine lies to us about mortality, teaching us that if you take this drug or have that test there's a chance you'll live forever. For intelligent realists, this window is an opportunity to get used to the idea slowly and grieve along the way. When death comes suddenly and unexpectedly, tha grief comes after the funeral and when the shock wears off. Either way, it's a bitch.

I've done it both ways, and I'm sure you have too. One is no easier than the other because a loss is a loss and it hurts like hell to lose someone you love. I prefer to think of it the way my grandmother put it to me. "Janie" she said. "We're all just loaned to each other here on earth by God."


Friday, June 11, 2010

visiting the old people

That was Fast Eddie's response when I asked him over at the sawmill what was going on in his life. He's not much on sharing personal details, if you know what I mean. There's a wife who just recently got a name and a daughter for whom he would hang the moon and then jump over it. Poor guy will be working until he's 80 just to keep them up in the style to which they are accustomed. And that sucks, ya know? It's time to go fishing and enjoy things a bit more. He's got an official pass to fish the Forked Deer riverbed but hasn't used it yet. Probably scared of the snakes down there. I always tread lightly even when my feet are propped up on the four wheeler. Scare to freakin' death of mr. snake, I'm just saying.

Everybody and their brother is on vacation from work this week so I've been clocked in precisely when the bell tolls. It allows me to pay the landlord and Dyersburg Electric System for the privilege of renting this old house on the hill about a mile from my parents. The scenery is awesome but it's hot as hell already and I'm ready to move to cooler territory where the oil hasn't managed to soak coastal wildlife. I'm thinking Walden's Pond or something similar. Hopefully the eagle guy managed to save that neck of the woods.

I have watched in horror while that offshore well spewed billions of gallons of oil into the gulf, all in the name of fueling gas guzzling super humungous vehicles which carry our troops over there where the war cannot be won except when one precious soul decides that enough is enough and to hell with the virgins in heaven. BG and I were talking the other night about how Al Quaeda is now recruiting pissed off crazy american citizens to train as jihad warriors against our country in places like Somalia where there is no mercy for anything remotely resembling western ways. We have sold ourselves to the devil of slave labor in countries that hate us and what we stand for. There is a very small part of me that understands it in the biblical way of thinking. Ya'll know how Big Ernie does the prophecy thing and loves every minute of it.

Following the bombing of the World Trade Center on you-know-when, I began to think about profiling and witch hunts as a way of living life. Most believers in Islam are peaceful folk who believe that Mohammed was a prophet just like Jesus and Paul and John the Baptist, and all those folks on the road to Emmaus. So when does somebody have to be right to make everything law? At that point in time, our homeland security was extremely weak but the economy was booming just like in the days of the Pharisees. Rinse, lather and repeat.

Gotta run. I'm figuring that the FBI has me pegged as a terrorist by now and it's an early day at the sawmill tomorrow ^j^

Thursday, June 10, 2010

it is what it is

As meltdowns go, this week's was divinely planned so that each and every day somebody was an angel to somebody else. I came home one day to find an extremely distraught unemployed daughter who is wondering how it will all work out okay. I sure didn't have any answers, but managed to score a big teary hug that served as an affirmation of mother daughter trust. If memory serves correctly, that was the afternoon that Yaya dropped by for some happy tunes and a beer. Sam and the skunk tied up later that night. The smell is almost gone.

I took advantage of the next afternoon's cloudy breezy skies to do some work on the lawn in the yard that was once horse pasture. About three hours later, the family drama started and I cried for a few hours, then phoned a friend. Gigi came running with exactly what she knew I needed and that also included a big fat hug. I hope she won a brazillion bucks on her girl trip!

Next day at the sawmill, Sue could tell I had cried myself silly and asked what was up. That was when she told me about she and her friends on the beach last month, bonding with the phrase "it is what it is." She is also the one, by the way, who introduced me to" climbing the water tower."
We've been in the trenches together like so many other true friends so I decided she was probably the wise one at that point. That's when I put on my big girl panties and vowed to deal with it.

I'll let ya'll know how that works out ^j^

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

secret recipe

I can't tell you how many gallons of peroxide and vinegar mix I have used since the year we got Faith. That poor girl would try her best every time to bark that sucker out of the way and ya'll know how that rolls. Butterbean got sprayed the night that me and Hoss got stuck in the mud (and I left him to die!) and he wanted to let her in the wrecker cab. Nah....I was riding on the sideboard so she just ran beside me. To my knowledge, this was Sam's first encounter and it was a doozy. They bark and want out sometimes at night so I didn't think much about it, stumbling to the door to accomodate 'em. About the time I snuggled back down, I smelled it. And it got stronger and Stronger and STRONGER. It was either next to the AC unit or right beside my window.

I was scheduled to go in early yesterday so his peroxovin bath had to wait until the evening. He was really pissed considering he had just had one two days before. He stared at me for a whole day with that "you are a mean bitch and how dare you demasculate me like that!" face. Just like some guys I know. case you haven't looked at the calendar, John Bradshaw et al helped us to find our inner chicks many years ago and we don't take crap off of anybody who won't meet us halfway. That's not a bitch. It's just common sense and fair play.

Sam has been de-skunked and most of the house....however, the dust bunnies have taken over again and I almost had them under control. Close, but no cigar. I spend more time doing yardwork with my mother's day presents and the exercise feels good. I've been sittin' on my tush way too long looking for love in all the wrong places. My parents are doing well and have lots of good solid medical attention from my associates which really makes me proud to be a part of that group. That's no small thing when you've been through as many peaks and valleys of faith in that particular part of my ministry. I guess what goes around really DOES come around.


Saturday, June 5, 2010

just call me grandma

Up at Gigi's pool I'm pretty much the not so glam one who plays with the kids and such. Today there was a butt load of'em. Natbug was the first one to peg me as grandma, but Julia picked it up and ran with it today. I guess we're kinda sorta related because her Papaw and Gigi have a thing and I'm an honorary sibling of Mutt and Mary. Sam rode with me up there to the doggie park pool and enjoyed the trip. All those kids know his name now, just like I know Eddie's name. He's the little guy who looks like daddy frazier's dog. I would seriously love to have that pooch, but he needs a bath big time.

The sometime on and off again roommate rolled in early this morning from his job on the gulf coast. I didn't see any tar balls on his truck, but I didn't look real close. BG was just tickled to death to see him live and in person and do his laundry. As for me, I've learned how to not only start the weedwhacker but feed the line into it. It's not something I would like to do for a living, but the yard must be done before the landlord shows up for inspection. Hopefully by then, the riverbed will be available for fishing.


Friday, June 4, 2010

on borrowed time

My life was serendipitously planned by Big Ernie to be spent here on the farm with my somewhat eccentric but totally lovable family. My ex and I raised our BG complete with horses and tractors and a trampoline out front working our asses off all the while teaching her what we had learned as aging baby boomers. We usually worked different shifts so we took turns being parent-in-charge. She stayed with Mom and Daddy a lot until she turned into that surly teenager who hates everybody and you're next. There were lots of slammed doors and lying during those years which totally pissed me off because I thought that I could control every.damn.thing. Only the strong right survive, right?

My parents moved out here when I was a year old into the red log cabin where they still live fifty four years later, give or take. I was absent for about a decade when I went off to the big city for college and made my own life down the street from the sawmill. We moved back out here when BG was a four year old. She's almost 26 now...ya'll do the math on renting the old house on top of Pecan Lane. My best guess is that I've paid about 80K in rent and one katrillion in utilities to call this house my home. The summer after I got my first divorce, I mowed the entire thing with a push mower and never got done until first frost. Of course I was much younger then.

The yard is an eclectic collection of every flowering thing that I've ever thought was pretty, including riverbed ferns and grapevine. Thanks to last night's rain it's all green. My favorite spot is the back shade garden because it's cooler on a hot summer afternoon. That's where the herbs grow in pots and plants from friends frame the stones that I've picked up for a half-assed patio with a borrowed grill perched on 2x4s. That's where mr. snake usually hangs out because it's damp. Come July, we'll see some hideous shed skin hanging from the maple, sure as the world.

I think the great Forked Deer flood of 2010 killed the farmer's sweet corn so I reckon I'll have to go the farmer's market downtown and buy some. And some purple hull peas and green 'maters too. The only thing I planted was those little salad ones, in a concrete block. So far so good!


Wednesday, June 2, 2010

the duct taped bible

Many years ago when BG was just a little kid I got this very cool leather bound bible for some mother's day or another. It was during the time that I was just beginning to catch on to the whole Jesus thing and how he was more than just a miracle worker. One of my favorite parts is where he gets pissed off and throws over the tables in the temple. I can't help it...that scenario meshes much more with my persona than pigs jumping blindly into the pond.

Tonight on the teevee there was a documentary about the big know, WWII. It was an honest explanation of how our great country put Japanese American families in concentration camps while their folks fought theircountrymen for love of the USA and all that it stands stood for. I am disappointed, yet not surprised at the fact that so many want to declare jihad against us and what we stand for now. Perhaps there is a parable up in there somewhere. One can only hope and keep the faith.

I blame Clinton, if the truth be told. Following NAFTA our country went dirt cheap, burning the road up to whatever supermegastore has the best deals on frozen food and home decor. I hope he enjoyed the ride. Our country as we know it took a big hit on that deal what with our failure to appreciate all gifts homegrown and personal. Cigars make me sick...been there, done that with Yaya back in the day. Neither of our old Cuban pathologists ever smoked one in front of me but I bet their wives enjoyed the aroma.
KY cousin Debbie called to tell me she'd found the perfect guy, just now getting a divorce and all in tune with going green and such. According to her, he's well educated and has a ten million dollar house in California which might drop off the map at any given moment if mother earth decides to let that state slide into the Pacific. I told her I didn't want the drama and left it at that. She knows how I roll with all the peace and love stuff.

Gonna go watch some lightning bug action and turn in. My brother tactfully reminded me that no other landlord in the world would allow two dogs in the house so I guess I'll stay until there's a reason to go.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010


I love doing things that nobody knows about but me and one or two others and watching the joy on somebody's face when they realize that somebody loves 'em enough to go undercover. Way cool to watch :) I've been getting some kind of foreign comments that I've rejected every.single.time on one of my other blogs because I don't know what it says. Publish something that I can't read? I think not. That could be hatchet man trying to contact me and you all know what THAT could mean.

Following a few calls to local wrecker services with way high prices, I finally tried roadside assistance again and got a real person. I could tell from the get go that these people work on a tight schedule and was totally impressed with their willingness to work with my schedule. I remember things like that too. This dude was burning up the highway between northern and southern Dyer county and even managed to keep his sense of humor. He explained to me that the insides of my wheels are beginning to rust because of all those trips through the flood water and that he's seen a lot like that since May 3rd, in the year of Big Ernie 2010. For those of you who can't take get offended by the BE reference, please go to the next blog on your list. That was Hoss's term and I'll never let go of it, even though he's long gone into dung beetle territory.

Happy what feels like a monday but is already tuesday!