Sometimes I just need a fix. Just to remind myself how lucky I am, here are pics of the lovely little lady from a few days ago:
Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
Tiller Fix
Wednesday, September 27th, 2006PORN
Tuesday, September 26th, 2006It seems that my youngest child, daughter Tilda, shares her brother’s propensity for Spanish pay-per-view porn. Huh. That’s nice, dear.
Is it really so Strange?
Monday, September 25th, 2006Todd and I had an interesting weekend, and mine seemed to hinge on some weird breakdown between nature and man, reality and fantasy. I first noticed the chickens. Todd and I stopped at a gas station, because Quint (the dog) seemed a little carsick. We had been in stop and go traffic out of Atlanta. Todd went in for a coke and I walked Quint in some tall grasses in the empty lot next to the gas station. I was standing there, thinking about the fact that I had a weekend sans children ahead of me, when I heard what sounded like a clucking, and looked down to see two chickens standing about five feet from me. The chickens, Quint, and I all kind of looked at one another, then Quint and I watched as the chickens walked off into some tall grasses.
Todd and I hit the road, and decided to stop in a small town called Newborn. We had often passed a restaurant called Bess’s Place, and finally decided to try it for dinner. When we drove up, we noticed a small helicopter in the field next to the restaurant. This is rather odd, as Newborn is in the middle of absolutely nowhere. Sure enough, as we sat down to our ribs and pulled pork on the patio, the helicopter lifted off and flew away. Not something I see every day.
It was dark by the time we left the restaurant, and the darkness is damn dark on the country roads of Newton, Jasper, and Putnam counties. We saw deer (not that unusual) and a creepy guy standing next to a mailbox on the side of the road, no house in sight, and just standing there. Then, I looked down a side road towards a security light high on a pole. Darkness was all around, but just under the light was a completely white, almost glowing horse, looking straight at me. Then there was the deer outside the screened porch at the lakehouse, just staring at us, as the dog barked and growled and the hair stood up on his back.
Okay, so upon reading what I’ve written, it just doesn’t sound as weird as it was, but I swear, it was creepy and strange. And I liked it.
Oh, and happy birthday to the old ball and chain. I had a wonderful time this weekend, especially our boating excursion.
Playing on Tybee
Tuesday, September 19th, 2006On Saturday morning, I dropped Tiller off at Grandma’s near Macon and headed down to Savannah for Tommy’s memorial. It was held at a church on Wilmington Island and i just barely made it in time. I brought clothes with me, and changed in the parking lot like a common tramp; I am sure some of the more snooty older Savannahites were appalled at me slipping my skirt on over my shorts, then pulling my shorts down and tossing them into the Pilot as I traded my ratty flip-flops for a nicer pair of wedges. Oh well.
Connie seemed genuinely touched to see me there and gave me a big hug. I sat alone during the ceremony, which was really more of a celebration of his life and work. I learned things about Tommy that I didn’t know before. Tommy kept journals and had traveled the world. He was very religious, but very tolerant. One of the eulogists remarked that Tommy often said that the two places he was most at home were a church pew and a barstool; I was a little sad that I hadn’t gotten to know Tom better.
Afterwards, we proceeded to Connie’s on Tybee, changed into more comfortable clothes, then headed over to Tom’s stepson’s rental on the beach. One thing i really miss about living in a smaller, more southern town is the food. I ate three pimento cheese finger sandwiches; Pop eats about three whole pimento cheese sandwiches a day, but I had given them up completely and hadn’t had one in years. Oh.MY.GOD. They are so fucking good. I also had homemade pound cake that tasted like my Grandma’s, and honeybaked ham sandwiches on homemade biscuits. Did I mention the lemon squares and homemade cookies? Oh, and Bloody Marys. We had a lovely time with the Manhattanite friends of Tom’s son and daughter, and one of his friends told an interesting story about how she is friends with the guy who used to be married to Tori Spelling. During most of this time, though, I was itching to see the Auburn/LSU game, and I found an ally in the most unlikely of places; Graham and Adam’s cranky old grandmother, Gaggy. Gaggy finally managed to get her son (who had co-coached my first baseball team, the Birmingham PeeWees) to take her home and luckily, i was later able to watch the second half back at Connie’s. Adam and I used some forethought for once and bought beer on the way back to the house.
It was at this point that Adam’s wife Jenny noticed the nail in my tire, so Adam and I took off to try and get Freddie before he left his garage for the evening. No luck. Oh, well! Guess we need to go back, and drink and watch football! We headed back to Connie’s.
I think Connie may be the origin of my love for animals, and not much has changed in the 34 years I have know her; She is probably even the source of my pet Tourette’s, as my friends like to call my penchant for speaking to animals out of nowhere, a la “Hiiim’s Bad!” Sure enough, she had one bird, four or more dogs, and numerous cats, two of whom she calls “The Terrorists.” All of them lounge around on the furniture and get good lovin.’ We sat around with dogs on top of us, eating fried chicken and feeding the animals without guilt. It was just like being a little girl again. Except for the beer.
Auburn ended up winning, so I called Todd to congratulate him – He was well into his celebration, and slurring his words, which is not usual for him. I missed him and was sorry i missed seeing him cut loose; My husband is very possibly one of the most fun people to drink with ever. Why do you think I married him?
Adam and I started watching the Florida/Tennessee game, and then decided that we just had to have oysters, so Adam, Jenny, and I walked down to the end of the street to a dive called Quarters. We drank lots of beer, watched football (and the locals) and ate our weight in steamed oysters. Graham and Elke had met up with us by that time, and so i walked back to Connie’s, then hitched a ride with Graham and Elke to Connie’s cousin Mimi’s house. I had a bed all to myself, and slept until about 7 a.m. Graham and Elke, being childless, slept until much later, so I scavenged for food in the kitchen (all i came up with were some stale pretzels and a cold Coca Cola). I took them out to the covered patio, curled up on an adirondack chair, and munched while enjoying my breakfast. About this time, Addie came by on his bike, and we snagged one of Mimi and Harvey’s bikes. I think it may have actually belonged to one of them as a teen in the fifties – it was rusted, no gears, and creaky as all getout.
This was easily my favorite part of the trip. Adam and I traversed the quiet streets of early morning Tybee, headed towards the back river. The only sounds were the birds and the occasional fellow biker, jogger, or dogwalker. Lucky bastards were drinking coffee on their cool porches, and at one point the smell of bacon frying wafted out to us. Without exception, every person we passed said a friendly hello. September on the island is glorious; this morning was about 70 degrees, under a sunny cloudless sky, and with a continuous cooling breeze. We took our bikes off the main road onto a gravel drive leading down to the river beach. I think I had forgotten the exhilaration of speeding up to make it through the sandy trail, or hopping sideways off a bike as it is still moving. We took off our flip-flops, tossing then into our bike baskets and pushed the bikes down to the beach. I definitely had forgotten how hard it is to put down a kickstand and prop a bike up in the sand.
We walked past the catamarans and out towards the packed sand at the water. Two kids and their hot dad were putting on life jackets and preparing to paddle their kayak out into the water. A few people were fishing from the docks, but we had the place pretty much to ourselves. Addie and I waded in, and talked about having kids, and there was such excitement in him about becoming a Dad. It made me feel old and young and full of wonder at the same time. I am so happy for him, and thankful that Rollie and Matilda will have a cousin so close in age. We rode back to Mimi’s in our bare feet, chatting along the way, and I felt completely recharged. Some day i will live in a place where there is nothing I need that is not within biking or walking distance.
I spent the rest of the morning taking my car to get the tire patched. While the tire place worked on it, Graham, Elke, and I went to The Crab Shack. This place is totally touristy and ridiculous, but the steamed seafood platter is awesome. We sat out on the deck, downed coffee and sweet tea, and stuffed ourselves on more oysters, crab legs, mussels, potatoes, corn, sausage, shrimp, and crawfish. Just to really top off my Morgan Spurlock weekend diet (by Sunday night, I tallied up one large vanilla milkshake, two Quarter pounder value meals, one chicken biscuit, one sausage egg and cheese biscuit, two orders of hash browns, and one Arby’s Roast beef sandwich with curly fries), we all split a piece of Key Lime pie. Afterwards, we checked out the gators and bunny rabbits, then I went and picked up my car and headed for home.
It was a sad weekend, but also a great weekend – It is so wonderful and comforting in sharing a common past with people, and knowing that no matter how much we grow, and move, and change, we still know each other as if we were six years old again. I will cherish the morning I spent with Adam – it is not every day that as an adult, you get to play for a morning with someone you played with every day as a child, and to think about what it will be like for your children to play with each other as well.
Remembering Tommy
Tuesday, September 12th, 2006Photo: Seth Gaines
I’ve been a little down in the dumps lately: Money has been tight; I am exhausted from keeping the house clean for showings; Rollie has been testing me in ways I didn’t think possible, and Matilda is on the move (no more putting her down in the middle of the room with my keys and going off to mix myself a drink in another room). I am amazed how often these little boogers have to eat – three times a day! The pigs! – and that they still can’t change their own diapers. I can barely wipe my own ass, much less keep their butts clean, too. It all just gets to be a little monotonous day after day, with little alteration in routine. Lately, all of it has been getting to me – i have been quicker to snap, more emotional in my disciplinary responses, and frankly, I just haven’t given a shit what I was making for dinner. So what if they had green beans four days in a row? It’s fucking green, isn’t it?
Today I am not having as much trouble being present in the moment with my children and enjoying the time I have them. This morning, I found out that a friend of the family passed away from pancreatic cancer. He was the step-father of my favorite and closest cousins. He was a wonder of a man – part reticent cowboy, part peaceful observer. They say still waters run deep, and that is the idea I always got about Tommy. He seemed to watch everything and judge nothing. Sometimes it seems he was laughing at me a bit, but I never really knew what he was thinking, and I always wished that I did. He was one of the truly least judgemental, most accepting men I have ever met. There was something about him that made me feel comfortable and at peace.
Last night as I was coming down the stairs from putting the little ones to bed, I looked up at the t.v. and saw a familiar horizon. I was tivo-ing Antiques Roadshow, and it was an episode in Albuquerue, New Mexico. The vista displayed on the screen was a view from Ghost Ranch, in Abiqiu, New Mexico; It is where Georgia O’Keefe painted her most famous paintings. The camera looked out across the desert towards a lone peak, called Pedernal, flat as a table on top with a slope on either side. I immediately knew that view, because ten years ago this August, I sat on a picnic table at Ghost Ranch with Tommy, facing Pedernal in the dying light of the day. Neither of us said a word; it was one of those evenings that was so serene that you think of it when you need peace. Sometimes there are moments in your life where you feel everything around you more fully – the wood of the table under your hand, the breeze, the smell, the light and the shadow; all of the senses come together to imprint themselves on your memory as no photograph ever could. It is one of those moments in time that I have carried with me and will think about for the rest of my life.
Why?
Friday, September 8th, 2006Is it that on the day when:
- Rollie gets his hep vaccine
- I go through the five steps of grieving over the news that Rollie needs to give up the nap
- I begin weaning Matilda by cutting out a feeding
. . .some bitch realtor leaves a message on my machine at 3:45, after I have left for the gym, that she will be bringing a client by at between 7 and 7:30 pm that evening. I arrive home at six, the house is in an uproar, and I start to pull out items for our dinner before listening to the goddamned message. Upon hearing it, I quickly call Todd’s cel, knowing he is on the treadmill at the gym, to tell him to hightail it to the grocery for cat litter, which of course we don’t have on hand, not knowing that the bitch is bringing the people by tonight. I throw the shit back into fridge, make Rollie go outside, and put Matilda into the exersaucer (or as Rollie calls it, the “babysaucer.”) Todd arrives home and we proceed to clean the house in about a third of the time it usually takes to do the same cleaning job on a weekend. We then pack up the kids (both crying at this point) and then take them out to eat at approximately 6:45 pm (roughly 45 minutes before their usual bedtime).
They were angels at dinner. Love me some babies. Those assholes so better by a house.
First Day of School
Wednesday, September 6th, 2006
Rollie started his 3-day a week Mommies Morning Out [with cranky Matilda] today. Todd followed us over to drop him off (aw – Great Dad Award!) and we put his backpack on him and sent him in. He never looked back.
The preschool is great – very small. There is one three-year old class, and there are only 12 kids in it. Rollie has a teacher, Miss Michelle, and she is assisted by Miss Janice. Rollie was so excited when i picked him up; he had a great time, and almost fell asleep in the car before we got lunch. After lunch, he and Matilda both went down for long naps. Now it’s Mama’s Afternoon In.
Our Boy Wonder
Wednesday, September 6th, 2006Rollie received this really cool superhero cape from the Reids for his birthday. (Thank you notes for that and the rest of the gifts are written, but damned if I know when I will get them in the mail. Damn, I am lazy.)
There is something really magical about him running around the house with the cape on, pretending to fly, and telling us how fast he is. Not so wonderful? Trying to capture lightning like that on film. Here are the attempts . . .
Retraction!
Monday, September 4th, 2006I would like to issue a retraction on my last post. I regret that I may have exaggerated a bit concerning my husband’s likes and dislikes in entertainment. You see, Todd does not just like television and films with junkies and hookers; Todd is a well-rounded viewer with a diverse taste in entertainment. My very sensitive and thoughtful husband has been known to watch the occasionally G-rated film, and in fact, I witnessed him shed a tear, in the theatre, during the end sleigh/snowing/Santa/carolling scene in the feel-good Christmas film, Elf.
This man has a heart of gold, people. He kisses babies, and saves puppies, and helps little old ladies across the street.
I apologize fully for any mental anguish suffered by Todd due to my careless words.
Whore!
Friday, September 1st, 2006Todd went out with the boys to watch the South Carolina game last night. When Todd goes out for an evening, that is always my night to catch up on all my Tivo-ed shows that I can’t watch when he is around. I could watch them, but as he is a merciless entertainment snob, his snide comments take all enjoyment out of the viewing. As we say around our house, if there are no hookers or junkies in it, Todd does not deem it worthy of viewing.
So, on the Thursdays when he and the boys go out, I open a bottle of wine (always with the goal of only having a couple of glasses, but usually with the result that the bottle is empty at the end of the night) and then watch crappy television. Last night it was Raising Helen (not as crappy as one might think! Or maybe that was the wine talking) and then a couple of episodes of my guiltiest of all guilty pleasures, Laguna Beach.
As I was finishing up the second episode, and the clock edged towards 11 p.m., I knew that Todd would be home soon. I knew i was setting myself up for some major ridicule if I was found cradling my last glass of wine, huddled on the couch with the dog, enraptured with Laguna Beach. This is where, in my wine-muddled state, I came up with brilliant justification for watching LB.
You see, I am 34 years old. 16 years ago, i was 18 years old. Matilda, on the other hand, is ten months old; in 16 years, she will be about 17 years old. Laguna Beach is my link with Matilda, a halfway point between the two of us. Therefore, my viewing of Laguna Beach is research into the mind of the teenage girl. It is me keeping up with what girls do and think and say. It is me peering into the future world of tiller.
Whatever. Why am I trying to justify this? I am such a drunk, crappy teen t.v. whore and I am proud of it.