Babyman and BG have a standing date for Saturday night since his mama usually works. She sleeps over and then they come out to see me in the morning. She had a couple of errands to run so I kept him and we went outside to play because it's soooooo super pretty today! He has a swing hanging from tree right by our front porch and loves it for about five minutes, then he's ready to hop out and explore. We walked around the yard four or five times not in anything resembling a straight line and he picked up sticks and rocks along the way oohing and aahing over every discovery. Most of the time when they lived here he was easy to corral with baby gates but that's over and he's now on a 24/7 run for his life. No fear, I'm saying. None whatsoever! I had to steer him out of the taller grass because I have a feeling Mr. Snake is lurking out there somewhere still.
The DHS Class of 1974 had their 40 year reunion this weekend and I've enjoyed seeing all their phone pics. My cousin Debbie was in that class along with Yaya and lots of other buds. I can't believe it's been a whole year since mine. PT today has consisted of picking Booger up mostly left sided and pushing that swing a little. The garbage is still all over the back patio area. I built that entire space myself, brick by brick, and added flowers over the years to what was once an ugly weed infested corner with a barrel grill. Mr. Snake loves it because there are plenty of vines to slither around in.
So, the queen of comedy will be buried today following a New York funeral. Thanks to the wonder of telecommunications her life and that of billions others will be preserved digitally until ISIS kills the interwebs. The drums of war that are beating there now is a sound that is chilling to me mostly because the radicals are targeting us for being um, I'm not sure what exactly. Infidels? Greedy westerners? Christians? Whatever the reason for their violent hatred they know no limits with their barbarism. Jesus wept and so did Allah.
When I talked to Mama later yesterday she was much better thanks to a little "nerve" pill and a visit from her dear sister and namesake niece. I know now that our lives shifted that day she fell into the new normal, whatever that turns out to be. Temporary and rehab are the operative words here to keep the whole deal from going back to status quo and imploding. I feel her spirit in that red log cabin every time I walk in the door and look around at her life as displayed. There have been hundreds of family gatherings and parties over the years hosted by my mother who, while is definitely not Martha Stewart, a close second in the entertainment business. This is the woman who would host a yearly Christmas party for 50 and make ALL the food herself plus give everybody a handmade ornament. No wonder I have issues.
Mama's big getaway from real life was playing bridge. Their club met (and I guess still does) every other Tuesday for some serious card playing and gossip. Carney, Ms. Ann, Ruth and Billie were all players over the years. Lois B and Peggy Bruce. Jeanne Mallard. I can't even begin to name them all but they are a part of her history and of mine. My grandmother Gaga played bridge too and was a garden club member in the Summer Hill area. This means nothing to folks outside of Dyersburg but the world to me.
Gotta run...Babyman is pitching lucite balls at the cat!
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