when all else fails

.....read the directions. That sounds like a really simple thing but not one that an old gal like me has had to do very often, fortunately. There's always been some nice guy tickled to death to do a good deed for an appreciative lady. Because, well. We just don't know, bless our hearts. It has taken me four reads of the book and several trials to get the weedwhacker running but I think I've got it. Changing a tire is a whole 'nother matter! However, I seemed pretty short on helpful guys so I decided to dig out the manual and try it myself. Japanese jacks are not very user friendly which I already knew by watching other folks change my tires and swear about the whole deal. I found the spot to put it, parked a brick behind the tire and used girl power to lift it up. THAT was when I noticed something was sort of odd looking about that brake. Way out of my league. So it's sitting there jacked up in the driveway on a holiday weekend and we're using BG's car. And grateful to have that one!! I'm thinking that I'll give the guy down the road some business and forget about the giant chain places.

Farming is slowing down a bit with fertilizer being applied to the young crop. The flooded corn is slowly being replaced with beans. It is unusually hot for this time of year and I'm hoping that it's not an omen of the summer to come. Ya'll know that us southern girls wilt easily like Scarlett did before she got a taste of reality. Right now I'm dripping with sweat but happy to be here on Pecan Lane with a recent shot of freon on the AC. I've said it many times before, Sugardaddy just doesn't realize how low maintenance I can be.

I'm thinking this weekend about the US military and how proudly we support them even when we don't believe in a particular war or mission. The majority of them do it because they love our country and want to defend and protect our freedoms. For that, I am also grateful. Right now my friend Michelle and her son are particularly on the old heart because he is on the way home from Afghanistan and she is set to begin basic training in October. Together, they are a force to be reckoned with so watch out bad guys.

Ya'll remember to say thanks....for whatever. It works magic ^j^

days of our lives

My friend Sara still keeps up with Victor and all the drama involved with that little story. She had some drama of her own when Wyatt Ray got born a month early and had to stay in the hospital for two weeks. As we all know, the hospital insurance company kicked her out but kept his little self for intensive care so she stayed with her brother in the metro area and did the trips up to feed him like a good mama will do every time. I have never in my life seen anybody so devoted to being a mother as she is. Two days before the boy made his entrance into the world, her daddy got married to the love of his life. They fish and just generally have a good time with being together. I hope to find that sort of thing for myself before I die but things don't look too promising right now.

To quote Hillary...."It takes a village." Not just to raise a child or grow an idea but to put change in motion. Social change is something that takes a long time to realize when it has always been thus and so. My parents are still hangin' on for dear life down there to the left of Pecan Lane. They have been married for 56 years and have lived in the little red log cabin for 55 of them raising three kids along the way. It's their time to shine and I only wish that they could. Mom and I were sitting in the doc's office yesterday and I noticed a frail old couple leading each other around to blood work and appointment making. I silently prayed that they would make it home together safely and wondered which one was behind the wheel of their car.

Speaking of cars....how about those BP folks? Don't it just make you proud enough to bust a gut just knowing that they've ruined the Louisiana coast to buy cute t-shirts and flower seeds for the employees to hand out? That plus the war on terror are about enough to make me want to move to Fiji. I bet there's still some live fish there. At the sawmill today, this old dude in a company shirt came by to give us a three minute education on the new sharps containers that will be installed tomorrow. I have to admit that he knew all the key words like "green" and "landfill" and could quote the numbers like a pro.

It's official now, three weeks after the fact....our devastating flood beat the big one in '37 by three tenths of an inch. Thanks to MG for being such a great homeland security dude! I should have thought to call him before we took out across the cornfield in the back of crackhead's pickup. My bad. I don't think the hummer would have made it.

I am so very weary from listening to the blame game that I could just sleep for a month. Whatever isn't Obama's fault is blamed on Dubya when in reality it's just job security for the feds. Heck...who wouldn't want to work for corporate America of the MSM. If it bleeds, it leads. Soon as my contract is up, I'll be turning off the teevee for good. That way I can just watch happy shit like the Golden Girls or I Love Lucy whenever I'm in the mood. I will seriously miss Stewie and Dr. Cox, but I will survive.

^j^

in cold blood

I have been rather uneasy since hearing about all the shooting and killing over in West Memphis on Thursday. Two officers were blown away on site as they attempted to stop a van on the interstate. The shooters were eventually killed by other law enforcement in a WalMart parking lot, but not before they wounded two more cops. A father son team with roots in white supremist beliefs, they were traveling in a "church" van with two dogs and the late wife's ashes to lord knows where. The boy was 16 and came out shooting just like his daddy. Now there are four people dead and nobody knows why. That? Breaks my heart. I hate guns with a passion and believe that EVERYONE should be registered if they carry one. No exceptions. Call me a commie liberal...i don't give a rat's ass. If you have a reason to carry a gun, it should be well documented with all concerned. If not, turn it over. That privilege involves a lot of accountability in my opinion.

I had to laugh at the irony of post-Katrina FEMA trailers being sold for almost nothing in a little town south of here the week before our major flood. How many freaking years ago was that when NOL washed away??? But I digress. I fear that this might turn into a rant and I would certainly hate to bore anyone with my bitching about the randomness of violence in our world today. My daddy would say "It has always been thus and so.'" And I guess he's right. Back in the day, our town was known as "Little Chicago" due to infamous goings on down around the riverbanks in what was just a tiny little hamlet at that time.

What really REALLY blows me away is just how many crazy people there are out there wearing the disguise of a church or a hatred filled belief...or both, and swearing jihad against the innocents. A couple of years ago a man with whom I did frequent business was gunned down in his front yard while getting the mail. His murderer ( whom he knew, by the way) then went into a field and offed himself with the same gun. C.R.A.Z.Y. as batshit.

About twenty years ago the catch phrase "random acts of kindness" surfaced and I was so delighted to see a movement that embraced love and pace rather than condemnation and judgement. It seems like a simple concept....just to do something nice anonymously for no other reason than it's the right thing to do. That, my friends, is true belief in faith and karma.

BG is halfway through the interview process with a different company that looks promising, and is taking her GRE as I type. Her plan is to begin work on a MSW in the fall. Maybe by the time she gets done with all this she can counsel me on how to grow old gracefully and not be a bitchy little old woman. I have a feeling that even then, I'll be all about the chillaxing.

^j^

i love my network

My cell/internet provider calls me on a regular basis to remind me that the account is just a little bit past due. Truth be told, I think they're pissed because I dropped my land line so they have to make up the difference someway. Hector at bill collection central understands when payday is and that the EFT will go through without a hitch. Gotta have a phone so that daddy can let me know when he needs bananas or mama needs her hair done.

I owe, among others, the propane guy and the dentist and the hand surgeon who did a procedure last year which failed to correct the partial numbness in my left arm. I owe my parents a big chunk which will be deducted from my "inheritance" when they pass. Truth be told, the only reason I'm still here is because of them. If you don't own it, you can't defend it. Some folks up in Michigan call this farm the TN property. Best as I can tell, Dr. Floyd Ferguson came by this land and it was passed on through the generations. Back in the day, that dairy barn was the centerpiece of an honest to goodness farming operation that included all sorts of crops and free range meat. That's where I got the asparagus bed idea ;)

Nothing much is left of that history except for the dairy barn, the shack and a few rental houses. The heirs don't seem to be much interested in preserving it so I'm doing it for them. After all, it's been my life for 54 years. That ought to count for something, dontcha think?

Ya'll pray for me and mine tomorrow because we have been notified of a seriously long IT downtime, meaning that our crew will be back to the basics of manual documentation. That is a scary thought but something that we should all consider. What if the interwebs just went away and we had to write down everything that we do for every single thing like in the olden days. It gives a whole new meaning to accounts receivable.

^j^

hatchet man

That's the literary term that my old friend Marti used for anything scary enough to make the dogs bark during the night and scare the shit out of you and yours. She introduced me to love of the written word and a whole lot of other cool things as well. Back in the day, we would spend our entire checks on signed volumes at the Southern Festival of Books in Nashvegas. I saw Lewis Grizzard and Larry Brown, bless their hearts. We all marveled over way that Clyde can sing in addition to his writing talent. BG has a good start on a library for her own child from just those trips together. I love it when that happens.

Our daughters were a few years apart so they spent lots of time together here on the farm. Becca always liked to pick wild onions when in season if my memory is correct. Her older brother affectionately named BG "Apostrophe" because of the little ponytail she always had on one side of her head. She was an aerobics instructor with a love for her kindergarten students that couldn't be matched. M singlehandedly got me off my ass and moving for a lot of years when it took that to keep my sanity. She introduced me to a kinder gentler way of looking at people's flaws and relating to them where they are in life. Kinda' like Jesus would do.

There were many others who touched me spiritually, some of them fellow church members but all of them fellow travelers on the road of life. I can't tell you how many times we've had church up in that breakroom at the sawmill and nobody even recognized it as such because we didn't put a label on it other than true honest sharing of beliefs. Some of the tales I've heard would curl your hair, but all of 'em are how we got to where we are today.

Our inspection was successful even though rather intense. I have come to appreciate the organizational skills of my salsa sister more and more as I age and don't have the patience for details. Some people get off on it...not me. My next husband, bless his heart, will have to be good with the money because I'm weak in the financial planning area. However....it's not too shabby for a smartass country girl to survive with a little help from her friends for eight years. He said I'd never be able to make it.

Peace out ya'll. Looks like more storms coming.

^j^

little drummer boy

We were knee deep in day two of inspection frenzy up at the sawmill when my phone rang so I scurried to the corner to see if it was my day to pick up bananas and crispix. Instead of daddy, it was my old friend Tim telling me that next time we have a hundred year flood to remember that he still owns a house here. Like, duh. I never even thought of that little fact in the heat of the moment while we were riding in the back of the crackhead's pickup across that corn field to freedom. Don't ever nominate me for homeland security because I can't find my way outside of the 'burg except for important things. Since I don't like to shop for clothes, that pretty much puts me here on Pecan Lane hanging out in shorts and t-shirts with my dawgs. Shut. Up. If you had this kind of view, you would do the same damn thing and be super excited about yard toys and a free bag of Vidalia onions.

Our parents were best buds back in the day with Jack's folks rounding out the friendship. They had kids in common.....three of us the same age with birthdays right around the same time. All three of us were in Uncle Jim's band in different positions of, shall we say... performance. Tim and I were both kind of following a different drummer and Jack was the drum major, leading that corp of musicians to successful field shows time after time. Claudia was a flag bearer. Cousin Debbie played the flute and her little sis Mo was a majorette when her time came. Mostly I got free passes to get out of jail school free to run errands for the band. The "manager." Tried the flute but didn't have the patience for blowing into some long metal instrument until I turned red. That's probably why I still love Jethro Tull to this day.

I did manage to learn the keyboard, and have used those skills to bring myself a whole hell of a lot of personal satisfaction over the years. Plus, I did "Hymn for Bells" one time at a concert and never missed a beat. I guess you could say it was all worth the early morning trips to town before school. By the time I was turned over to Miss Charlene in jr. high, it was a moot point because I was otherwise distracted by life in the fast lane outside of our farm. BORING.

The war in Vietnam was going full force and some of those older kids I hung around with were a part of a movement that scared the bejesus out of the adults who were our parents. Elvis looked like a saint compared to Led Zeppelin, I'm just saying. My mother, bless her heart, took me and some friends to a Zepplin concert in Memphis back around '69 or so and I left my shoes in the car but managed to hold onto my dad's wool Air Force overcoat as a sign of something that I never fully understood until I became a grownup. Which was much MUCH later, by the way.

....to be continued when the spirit moves ^j^

Today was, as we all know....church day for the grands at their home congregation up on the corner of Main and McGaughey. They went back for another dose this evening but are probably snug at home by now dreaming of sugarplums or Law and Order. Daddy told me today on our scenic route home that he and his daddy drove down Elm in Wilmer's old truck and the brakes went out on that ginormous hill. I guess all went well because I drove them down it today and the Camry didn't give out. We had overpriced unhealthy food at Perkins because that's what we do after church. Nobody has time to cook or anything what with all the hurrying up to get there on time for services.

As a United Methodist from birth, I have come to realize that christian leadership is a transient thing within the political structure of some denominations. It is a hallmark of methodism, reaching back to the teachings of John Wesley and those strange stirring in his heart. For the most part, my strange stirrings have taken place not in a church building proper but out in everyday life where people are struggling to make sense of what the hell this whole thing is about. In my humble opinion, it's all about greed when the devil is in charge.. I'm sure there are scriptures which address that particular evil, though I can't quote them by verse. Whenever I get into a rut spiritually, I always think of Becca's reference to Phillipians and all the happiness that is promised to those who believe in doing things out of love. She and a couple of others made the whole sunday school teacher thing worth the study and hassle.

I am guilty of not being faithful in ways that count, like using my God given talents to make life better for others. At one time, I did. But I gave up and went back to my little corner of the lab to work on procedure manuals because it pays the bills, kinda sorta. Prior to that, I saw possibilities for enhancing end-of-life care with folks who are terminally ill and need some peace on their way to the hereafter. I can thank Ira Byock and Elisabeth Kubler Ross for that particular trait. This too shall pass because there is no financial opportunity for those doing the right thing in our great country. It's all about oil and war and cheap imports.

Time to cook supper. Ya'll keep the faith ^j^