FAT TUESDAY

What would you say if? Just what would you say if….you…..

 Went to New Orleans

 Had a beer in the airport

 Had a beer on the plane(s)

 Met in the courtyard for a beer(s)

 Went on a Haunted Pub Crawl with a guide named Bloody Mary

 Had a real Absinthe shot and sugar cube melted with fire

 And danced in the open space

 Had photos taken that were filled with orbs

 Had more than 1 hurricane at Pat O’Brien’s while cheating at Spades

 Went to the casino and grabbed a beer(s)

 Lost your 1st $100 on black 11 Roulette

 Lost count of the next lost $100s

 Had a mimosa(s) to celebrate

 Had your palm read in Jackson Square by a girl named Betty with big boobs

 Visited a cemetery in the projects

 Had an ice cold Abita(s) with your crab platter

 Tried on $800 hats for your upcoming trip to the Derby

 Told the hat maker you’d be back at 2 to purchase hat

 Sang the cornbread song….over and over

 Made your ringtone the cornbread song

 Sat on a couch with an art dealer in the dark to view $11K painting in dim light

 Told art dealer you’d be back at 4 to purchase art

 Needed a sippy cup for your beer(s)

 COULD. NOT. WAIT. TO. GO. BACK.

I would say “Man, that was one fat Tuesday!”

ARE YOU READY?

Are you aware that the end of the world is planned for 2012? I remember a long ago trip to visit the Mayan ruins and had forgotten that the guide’s speech included the fact that the Mayan calendar ends on the Winter solstice 2012. Seemed like forever away at the time.In my opinion the world, my world could end tomorrow. Who knows? Who cares? I quit being scared by that worry a long time ago.But… I cannot wait until the next time someone and I get into a deep conversation and I drop my bomb on him or her….I will sigh….with sad eyes. …and say “I only have two years to live.”Then....I will a pause....for just the right amount of time...and drop bomb #2….“AND SO DO YOU! So----live it up!”

WISHES REALLY DO COME TRUE

Christmas before last my quirkier than me daughter gave us, our family, a silver wishing ball. The idea is to take a piece of paper (provided but way too small) and write down your wish for the upcoming year to be placed inside and read the following year at Christmas time.

Now, our family is a very typical All-American family. The kids are grown and each one of them has two sets of parents each…that means both sets on both sides are divorced and remarried which means, if I have my math right…8 holiday appointments for the betrothed and two for the youngest who probably is totally against the idea of marriage by now.

Not to worry. Being the gypsy souls that we are, we decided to change things and take us and our wishing ball to a less hassled less harried place. This year a trip to Chan Chemuyil Mexico.

Two parents, one couple married, one couple seriously dating, one daughter in college, one van that looks like we copped it from the Holiday Inn, two connecting houses with thatch roofs, sandals, boogie boards, sun screen, and one silver wishing ball.

As we took each wish, written on last year's torn piece of gift wrap paper (I told you the ones provided were too small) and read them out loud one at a time, it was just the best. A lot can happen in a year. A baby can come visit often, someone can make the Dean’s list, someone can come very very close to a hole in one, and well…wishes really can come true and peace and love are an absolute possibility!

The most fun part of this wishing ball thing is that we did it again. After we read last year’s wishes, we all took a moment to write down our dreams for next year. And on it will go…we will do it again and again and I can tell you that for sure because I’m the boss of that wishing ball.

And so…the silver wishing ball full of sweet and simple wishes goes in its new old wooden box with a little bit of sand, a seashell, a wine cork, and last year’s wishes…waiting patiently for next year.

Feliz Navidad de la familia que adoro!

MISSING A FEW JEWELS

This is a photograph of the most beautiful diamond belt buckle in the entire world…in the eyes of an artistic 7 year old able to see beyond a few missing jewels.So beautiful in fact that she wanted to possess it. She must have thought it was extremely valuable and rare and that I would never consider giving it up. So she took it one day.

But her sweet conscience arose to the surface like a bubble under water and her mother brought her to me, tearful, sorry and shamed--to return it.I wanted so badly that moment to give it to her, but of course she was learning a very valuable lesson in life and I had to stay out of it.

Years later, I came across it in a pile of stuff leftover from my art gallery and I smiled to think of the precious young lady she has become today.

Believe me, her life has handed her more lessons than most of us could ever begin to endure. So this Christmas, I wrapped it up and gave it to her as a present. I would imagine that her pretend dress up days are long over and that she might laugh to think she ever wanted it.

But I didn’t give it to her to wear…I gave it to her to keep as a treasure, hopefully in a treasure box that she will keep things such as this.And I also gave it to her for myself.

Let go. Let it go…live and let live…forgive those that have taken something from you…forgive yourself for not forgiving them and then forgive them. What you will have left is a wonderful, beautiful, shiny diamond thing…missing a few jewels…but worthy of belonging in a box of treasures.

EVENING IN PARIS VIA EBAY

It happens every single time. Hubby and I agree that we will spend the long cold winter months getting rid of our crap on Ebay. He really gets into it and uses the funniest descriptions in his auctions that make me laugh—out loud! He is focused and nothing gets between him and depositing into his PayPal Account.I, on the other hand, am much more impetuous than that. In fact, my usual M.O. is to

1. Locate my crap

2. Take photos in all ways to make it look great and desirable

3. Search it out on Ebay to see what it’s worth before I list it…and this is where the system goes haywire.

For example: I have these absolutely beautiful vintage perfume bottles--Evening in Paris. Cobalt blue glass, tassels, fragrant, vintage…do I need them? NO. I picked them up at some auction somewhere and have them only to dust. I search them on Ebay …there’s a nice listing of them, some of them are selling…for more than I realized my collection of useless bottles are worth…and the next thing you know…I’m not selling…I’m buying!

If they’re selling, then they must be worth something and if they are, I better add to my collection rather than get rid of it. Makes perfect sense…to Ebay that is!

Recent purchases: vintage rosaries, silver butter knife, more Navajo jewelry????, old pillow cases that smell like my grandmother’s house, and a new (old) magnifying glass with jade handle to read my fine print on my new (old) snuff bottle.Recently Sold: one plaid shirt for $.99.

And FYI…who knew my 1970 Frye Boots were something I should have held on to…current bid….$172.51…I’m in!

SUGAR SUGAR

Marriage is like a silver sugar bowl.If you just leave it in the cabinet and take it out from time to time you will find it tarnished.Polish Polish Polish and it will shine again, just like new.But what if you take it out each day, use it, and polish it while you hold it? Each day?Your sweet little sugar bowl needs to be polished to shine. And it needs to be polished by everyone who takes the sugar out of it. So polish it every day and it will shine every day.The more you polish it, the shinier it is.And don’t forget the spoon. That’s part of it!

EARLY TO RISE

Frosty December Sunday afternoon, just the perfect kind of day for staying home in front of a cozy fire watching football and HGTV. But instead…..

Button mushrooms: stuffed and topped with mango chutney--ready to bake

Nails: painted festive hot pink

Silver and green turquoise green bear: polished

Outfit consisting of gray hoodie cable sweater, black tights, combat boots, lime green rabbit pompom scarf: thoughtfully put together

Hair: poufed and sprayed in place

Lips: lined

Car: warming and loaded with snackie poos, scarf gift, and fizzy water

I get to BFF’s driveway at designated hour and I am the only one there. I usually am early, but her door was closed. I dial BFF and ask her where everyone is including her. “I am here in your driveway,” I say. She lols and says, “It’s next Sunday.”

DANG!

I felt a little like one of those people who looks down and realizes they have two different shoes on.

At least I haven’t done that yet.

GLAMOUR PUSS

So many twists to this déjà vu yarn…you know that dreamy hazy feeling of “I’ve been there before?” Or more to the point…. “WHOA.I. Have. BEEN. HERE. Be-fore.”Allow me set the stage for you….TML Convention Fort Worth Texas…we pop into Grace, a sophisticated little hotspot that serves the most excellent dirty martinis… Guest Bartender Night…nearing Halloween…also Guest Artist Night…Jill Johnson (photographer for Glamourpuss) is there for a book signing…hubby just celebrated his birthday and received a card featuring a cat with a Zen rock cairn on its head…(which he cut out and placed on the top of a pumpkin and a blog all it’s own)….and I’m pretty sure I saw someone wearing a very comprehensive mullet….I can only hope because it was “kittywig” night.Lol-ing yet?More….to prove the déjà vu phenomenon to myself I get home and dig through my baby bible to find a photo of me--6 years old…Cinderella dressed in yellow…my first modeling gig…in one of my mom’s many many patent pendings of which I was often exploited for…to the best of my recollection, this one was MOPWIGS…mopwigs and me… forlorn poutylip model look, just like the kitty in the blue wig…yes oh yes…I had been there before! Kitty, I feel your pain.For a peek at what might have been for me if A. My mother was not so ahead of her time orB. I was a cat click here

FLAN

***UMERO NUMERO DISCLAIMERO***I am NOT prejudiced. BUT…over my life in my little town, things have changed and I don’t think it’s about demographics, you might agree that it’s about courtesy.My husband laid on me it was his turn for dessert in food group and he had decided that he (we) would make Flan…a Spanish Style Custard.So off to the store I go to pick up Flan in a box…like Jell-O. I was at least together enough in this interruption to my day that I knew I might need other ingredients so I tried to read the directions on the box. It was all in Spanish. Now, I am not opposed to the fact that our little grocery store currently includes a double totally Hispanic isle, or that over 80% of the checkers chat in their language and probably laugh at my sunglasses held together with a safety pin…or that even the Flan box is all in Spanish.Well actually I do care about that…I just needed to know if I needed some milk…eggs…perhaps some key ingredient that I don’t want to have to rush back to the store for after golf.So…when I asked her to, this sweet and courteous little checker read the instructions to me..in Spanish…leche…for sure…dos tasas.Ok…When I get back home, I realize when I take off my sunglasses and put on my reading glasses…there in almost plain sight were the directions in English. Dang. I bet she thinks I’m some kind of American dork.But all that really matters is that we were really really nice to each other. And his Flan was the hit of the food group!

I'M SO GLAD

I am so glad that when I am forced against my will to ride the ferris wheel that I have someone to hold onto so I won't be scared out of my wits!

ADIOS CRANKY PRINCESS

"What a difference a year will make," my in the know friends tried to tell me while consoling me last year as my last one flew the coop.Empty Nesterville? Empty Nesterville, I like you. I can’t believe it, but my friends were oh so right. This house got crowded….one too many cranky princesses and I might not mean me.The good thing that I know is what lies ahead. Two are not only gone but their plates are completely broken…they have their own houses and their own plates and they are F.U.N. We visit each other, eat out from time to time, spend the night at each other’s houses, make travel plans, talk on the phone, email, and rarely do we argue about whether a headboard is a queen or full. And they hardly ever gripe me out.Miss C.P., I will miss you, don’t get me wrong. I love you and I will miss you but I don’t have room anymore for your luggage in the doorway of my new dressing room aka your old bedroom.Update August 18, 2009:Uh oh....melancholy is back...just got back from the longest trip with the longest truck with the longest wait in line Houston traffic back to Empty Nesterville.That bright blue suitcase that I brought home to refill is sitting in my new dressing room without all the mess and chaos and it kind of gave me a lump in my throat when I passed by the hallway and saw it sitting there. Empty Nesterville is kind of empty today.

ANT BED PSYCHOLOGY

You Are Who You Were When You Were Eight
Yesterday I was golfing with my husband and we had a discussion about ant beds after coming across one on the course. He told me when he was a kid, he would stomp in them, put firecrackers in them, pour gas in them, and fry the ants with his magnifying glass. And with his softer side he had a multitude of home made "ant farms"; various "ball" jars with holes poked in the top where he could watch the ants make their tunnels, feeding them, playing with them.
I asked him if he ever got stung by the ants and he said, “yes, when you mess with ants, that’s just part of it.”
The more I thought about it, I began realize that I too was curious about ant beds and so began my comparison to ant bed play and personality types.
My sister who is today’s drama queen would stand in the middle of an ant bed and when they began to crawl on her and sting her, she would scream bloody murder but remain standing in the middle of the action until someone came to rescue her. I’m pretty certain she did this more than once.
My older brother was much like my husband…find, destroy, and enjoy.
I on the other hand would be very curious about their tunnels under ground, could they swim, what did they eat, where were they going and why were they going so fast all in the same direction? Why are some red and some black and some big and some little?
My youngest brother would steer completely away from them knowing of the consequences that play would create…so back to my sister…why would someone stand in the middle of one and become frozen with fright? Her actions probably had something to do with the younger ones steering clear and thus the fact that others’ actions persuade us.
So, perhaps the quote “you are who you were when you were eight” could most certainly include “and the way you play with ants tells it all.”

ONE TUFF DADDY

Itsy Bitsy Spider? Today is your lucky day. You have beaten all odds. You scare me, but I admire you more. When I found you in my kitchen sink this morning, I washed you down the drain with my handy dandy faraway from the spider squirter, and then I chopped you up in my garbage disposal. But when I got back from the post office, there you were. You are one tough daddy with long legs. So, I got a stick for you to crawl on and I let you go on Trent’s porch. He took our bat to show and tell so I thought he might enjoy you too.

KIM CRAWFORD N CRABGRASS

Don't we all seek green? Grass that is? So...we look across our yard and mostly find green...and then we notice it...it's just a little ole' teeny tiny patch of green that doesn't quite have the look we're going for, but green still.

So...we leave it...seemingly harmless, able to ignore it, turn our back to it...let it grow...ignore it some more...pay attention to something else and oh my...the next time we look...it's HUGE! A huge patch of invasive green crab grass taking over our otherwise perfect lawn.

The remedy...one bottle of chilled Kim Crawford, 8 gallons of water, backbreakingfingernailpolishchipping effort to get rid of that little patch of green that seemed so bitty and harmless when it began.

And what's left? A hole that looks like a moon crater that will take the rest of the summer, if not more to fill in and become whole.

Why didn't I just dig it up when I knew it didn't belong there? And chunk it over the gosh dang fence?

52 CANDLES

hurry go get the matches!

Fupa: to be expected

Wrinkle cream budget: refriggindiculous

Cello lessons: humbling

19-year-old cello teacher: enchanting

Herb garden: heavenly

Laundry with no kids: time for herb gardens

Cooking: NOT

Blowing bubbles with Betty: O Yea!

Nancy Grace: compelling

CNN: blah blah blah

Fall Trip Plans to Machu Picchu: wowsy

Spring Trip to my back yard: wowsier

8-minute sex against the wall: overrated

Drinking sauvignon blanc in a chair by the pond: underrated

Thought of dentures: scary as heck!

Flossing your real teeth: critical

Connecting with others: boring

Getting to know myself: exciting

Knight in Shining Armor: Jesus

View of life: relaxed

52 birthday candles instead of 25: most excellent!