sittin' here lookin' like this

My dear Yaya and I used to throw that phrase out when one would call the other with the question "Whatcha' doing?" like women do a lot. My favorite story involves her cat 'Putin (short for Rasputin I think) would get in on the action and got stroked while we chatted. I babysat for him one weekend and never saw the cat all weekend. He hid in the laundry room until I left. That's where all his 'chit is like food and litter. That was not long after Mocha died and I thought I'd have to bury my friend soon after. It would be years later before I experienced that deep of a big old chocolate lab loss. Chocolates are just special, is what the vet used to say. She was a young and vibrant and very pregnant lover of animals who went to work for a veterinary urgent care in a bigger town.

I noticed in the rainy gray of today that this town and the scenery is more depressing by the day. Every time I drive through Southtown I'm struck by the power of a simple river like the Forked Deer when the land isn't properly managed as a flood plain. In the future it will be, following back to back flooding that destroyed the entire neighborhood except for a couple of businesses, some houses and a church or two. I hope I'm alive to see the finished product but I will always remember my childhood there and all the memories that I carry. I've given some thought to blogging around town and telling about the landmarks so we'll see how far I get with that between trying to sell the family silver to eat and dealing with the head cold from outer space while Hercules barrels into my face from the northwest. Winter, she is here.

Horner's garage is up there before your cross the first bridge into town that runs over the river proper down by the water plant. The kudzu bar (well, it used to be) sits between the two bridges and has been my haven many a night when I was still a going out kind of gal. Now all I wanna do is go home, and that's sad. But hey, I've got stuff to do like mop floors and photograph collectibles one more time. What's left now all has a meaning of some sort. My ethereal friend suggested making an altar of sorts consisting of things that make me peaceful and happy like the angels and the tiny little Buddha. Mary Engelbreit art smiles at me above the desk and BF's bronze peace sign is on my bedroom door. There is a sign above the desk in rust and brown with cream lettering that says Keepin' the faith. It was a gift from my brother and his wife before they left for VA. Little things that mean a lot. That's what life is all about.

^j^