I My bestie was looking for an epic shout out on my Facebook for her birthday. I’m not feeling especially epic today, but I’ll give it my best shot.
Lisa is a Yankee. Like, dyed-in-the-wool of Cincinnati, Ohio. She once called to tell me that Kroger’s had bagels on sale. “Lisa, for the last time. I am from the SOUTH. I don’t eat bagels & cream cheese, I eat biscuits & butter.” I mean, this was just a few years ago. She’s been here since 1994. My first impression of her was not good. She looked like this other girl that had moved here the year previous & turned out to be a total…you know. But Megan’s goal in life was to make friends with every new person who darkened the door of Seymour Middle School, so by association, I was obligated to make nice as well. Turns out, Lisa was just as big a nerd as I was (am). So we’d hang out for days on end during the summer, playing card games, riding horses, & “cooking” (cooking consisted of what Lisa dubbed “drooling sandwiches” due to the content of mayonnaise & mustard). We also dared each other to eat stuff, like expired chocolates from Valentine’s Day with hot sauce on them. We also fancied ourselves quite the photographers. If it wasn’t equally embarrassing to me I would totally post a few.
It was much different at Lisa’s house than it was at mine. For starters, she lived in a subdivision, which was intriguing to me. We would take walks around her neighborhood for entertainment. One day, I happened to look down & saw this old glove that had been run over a few hundred times. Believe it or not, it had been squashed into a bird sign. As in, the other fingers were folded down, but the middle one was straight up. We knew no one would believe us if we just told them, so we went back to her house for the camera. That was way back when cameras took film & the bare minimum time you had to wait for it to be developed was an hour. So we begged & pleaded with her dad to take us to Walmart to get the whole roll developed for that one picture. And people STILL didn’t believe us when we showed it around.
The other thing was while I was used to staying alone at my house & it was usually fairly quiet & calm. I lived with my Grandmother, & she worked second shift, so when I got home from school I had the place to myself (it was okay, I was responsible as a result). Lisa’s home, on the other hand, was a different story. First of all, she lived with her parents & her granny. They all had plenty to talk about, & I was new to them, so they had plenty to tell me.
At the same time. So they got louder & louder to be heard over each other. One day, we’re sitting in her bedroom & she’s like, “I’m thirsty. You want a coke?”
“Sure,” I said, getting up.
To my surprise, she starts screaming. “Mom!” No response.
“MOM!”
Nothing.
“What are you DOING?!” I hissed.
The door comes open. “What, Lisa?”
“Bring us some cokes.”
I am MORTIFIED. I know my face was ten shades of red. But Lisa’s mother acted like it was no big deal & a minute later is back with two fizzy glasses of coke. I couldn’t believe it. Her momma continues to be as good as gold to me, passing along books & barbeque on a regular basis. I called her the first time I ever mopped a floor to make sure I was doing it right.
So, although Lisa was raised in the north, & we couldn’t be more different, we are just enough alike to get along famously. She was my saving grace during the wedding proceedings. She stayed with me the night before to help get everything done & we were up at one at the morning decorating the arbor under which we would be standing. She threw me a fabulous shower & a bachelorette party in downtown Nashville. She’s been by my side during every major life event I’ve had. We know each others secrets & passwords.
She’s the only sister I’ve ever had. And I hope she has a wonderful birthday & doesn’t feel a day older than she does the day she stepped into life in the south 21 years ago.
I missed my writing challenge yesterday.
Day 26: Things You’d Say to an Ex
Well, y’all know me, I don’t let no grass grow…to one I’ve said pretty much everything I care to say. Including the infamous note ending with, “p.s. I took the cookie dough, you b@$~*9”
To another I would say, “Did it ever cross your mind that you should pay me back?”
But to ALL I would say, “Look how happy I am. Maybe if you took some lessons from Shug you could find happiness, too.” I’m not bitter, & I’m not sorry for the experiences I’ve had, but I do feel that I’m where I’m supposed to be.
Day27: What You Wore Today
I’m pretty dull looking. I wanted to be easily recognizable as a Co-op employee (I would have worn overalls if I had any that fit) so I’m in khaki pants, a navy Co-op collared shirt, & grey (I only spell it gray when I’m describing the sky or inanimate objects. I don’t know why.) tennis shoes. I have on my “perfectly imperfect” bracelet, my crown ring, & hoop earrings from Shug. My hair’s up in a twist, which sounds fancy but it’s not. And, as usual, my heart’s on my sleeve. More on that later.
I would like to poll all the retail people working tonight. I wonder what percentage of them don’t mind being there as opposed to ones who would rather have the day off.
Plenty of people work holidays. Surgeons, nurses, policemen, paramedics, firemen, soldiers. Dispatchers. These people actually make a difference. They are the ones who are there for the “big deals” in life, not the “big deals” in possessions. So when they sign on the dotted line, they know that they are making a commitment to be there for someone else. Even though their family would like to have them safe & sound at home, someone else NEEDS them. So they go. They leave what’s important to them & go to work & maybe save a life.
I would also like to poll the shoppers tonight. I would ask if they have ever been forced to work on Thanksgiving.
I’m just curious. Because it seems like if you’ve ever had to work one– or someone close to you–, you wouldn’t wish it on anyone else. And you wouldn’t support it. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I don’t understand how important it is to get your child a game that’s selling for $50 bucks off tonight only. A game that your child will undoubtedly tire of by February. And maybe that child would have a monumental memory made tonight with you if you had stayed snuggled on the couch watching a movie or reading a book or decorating a tree or helping wash dishes. But what do I know?
I just know what I see.
And I see greed.
I would like to poll all the retail people working tonight. I wonder what percentage of them don’t mind being there as opposed to ones who would rather have the day off.
Happy Thanksgiving Eve!
For those of you who are told to bring rolls, or just yourself, be thankful.
For those of you making cole slaw for the first time, I have advice: reserve one-quarter of the cabbage head in case you screw up & add too much vinegar or salt. Or mayo, but I like mayonnaise, so I don’t see that as a problem. But there ain’t nothin’ nastier than salty cole slaw.
For those of you making mashed potatoes: make double what you think you’ll need. And add milk sparingly. It’s hard to cook it out if you add too much. Use salt & butter liberally.
For those of you cooking biscuits the secret is prayer.
It helps to sift your flour, too, but I believe it really it comes down to your relationship with Jesus.
For those of you cooking turkey: cook your bird upside down. I am not joking. It makes the white meat much juicier. My mom discovered this by accident, but it’s the way she always fixed it thereafter. And me too.
For all of you, Happy Thanksgiving. May it be relaxing & filling.
Day 25: Four Weird Traits You Have
I’m struggling. I feel pretty normal, but that’s what you get when you work in retail. By comparison, I am definitely mild.
1.) Tuletta says I’m weird because I don’t like nuts & that my truck has a name. She says only abnormal people name their trucks. But the guy standing here waiting on the straw blower said everyone he knows is abnormal, then. I asked him what his truck’s name is & it was Wilma. I thought that was great. I asked why Wilma? He says because every mornin’ he goes out & says, “Will my {mah} truck start? Will my truck run? Will my truck stay runnin’ all day?” I polled, & John is in agreement that it is weird I named my truck.
2.) Robin says it’s strange that I’m so straightforward. It is abnormal in the South to tell it like it is, & I always have. Also that I tell the truth. You don’t get a lot of that these days. No worries with me. You get what you ask for-an honest opinion. Sometimes you don’t even have to ask for it.
3.) Tuletta thought of another one—that I underline in books. I underline a LOT. That IS weird. Most people don’t write in books. I make a point to use a pencil. Except in my Bible, I exclusively use a pen there.
4.) Lisa said my pinky finger. It IS definitely bizarre. I’m double jointed in my hands & my pinky pops when I move it…I can’t explain it. Next time you see me ask for a demo.
Day 24: Something You Miss
Of all the things I’ve lost, I miss my mind the most. 😉
This specifies “something”, so it can’t be a person. But it could be a person’s LOVE….Hmmm…
I miss the unconditional love of my dog. But I love having the unparalleled joy of the Bug now.
I miss the innocence of childhood, not having a job other than picking up sticks out of the yard & keeping my room cleaned up. But I am thankful to be grown & appreciate the value of hard work & know how much it takes to spend ten dollars on something frivolous.
I miss the days when we weren’t eat up with Yankees & Dotheads. There is no but.
I miss when I didn’t have to worry about spots on my skin being cancerous. But I’m glad I’ve lived long enough to have “age spots” & been fortunate enough to be out in the sun long enough to get freckles.
I miss reading all day, but I’m thankful I have Shug to occupy my time these days.
I miss people telling the truth, & not skirting the issue. But there have always been snakes. I guess I’m glad I’m not naïve anymore.
I bought this apothecary jar a few days ago to replace the one I broke a month ago to use for this exact purpose: a home for our seashells from the seashore. It had to be super huge because we found some really nice intact shells this go-round. It’s about 12″ across. I have lots of these jars/ vases in smaller sizes around the house. Anyway, so Shug sees it sitting on the table the other night, empty.
“You know what would look good in that glass jar thing?”
“Ummm, sand & shells?”
“No. A whoooooole bunch of peanut M&M’s.”
And that, ladies & gentlemen, defines why straight men aren’t interior designers.
Day 22: Your Morning Routine
Weekdays obviously vary from weekends.
Weekdays I get up between 5:30-6. Pour a cup of coffee & settle down to read emails, texts from night before, notifications on Facebook. Glance at clock & wonder how it got to be 6:15. Kiss Shug goodbye. Think about getting dressed but decide a game of candy crush never hurt anybody.
The next time I look up it’s twenty till seven. Hmm. Better not scroll Instagram.
Pick out jewelry first, because that’s the best part, and determines what kind of attitude I will have that day (Sassy, always, but there are variations). Underthings, socks (also dependent on outfit), pants, top, shoes set by the door to go on very last thing because I hate shoes.
Do I have time for breakfast? Yes. Soggy cocopuffs or AppleJacks usually. And a banana. If I take my lunch, this is when I’m grabbing the leftovers in the pyrex dish or the hot pockets & grapes. If I’m smart, I will take my shirt back off to brush teeth. If not, brush teeth & cuss for getting toothpaste down front of shirt. Dab at it & decide whether to roll with it (usually), add scarf, or change. Still need to make the bed. I fleetingly wonder why I bother, then remember that in the event of a home invasion & I’m shot & killed (not likely, as I am armed & most definitely dangerous), press & police will be examining every aspect of my life & they will see that I’m tidy, if not speckless, & a creature of habit. I make the bed, complete with accent throw pillows.
It is now two minutes till seven & I still need to do something with my hair & put on makeup.
Or a hat & hope for the best. (That was twice last week). Or maybe a funky sparkly headband to distract from my unwieldy curls.
Ugh. Definitely need to do foundation & not just eye makeup. Oh well, I’ll just drive faster.
And of course I haven’t started Patsy to get the frost melted off the windshield, so that pushes me into the red danger zone of being late for work.
And then some mornings there is Chick-fil-a & I arrive with plenty of time to spare. So it’s breakfast that makes me late. Or procrastination, whichever.
Weekends we’re typically up by seven, & we watch some movie while we play on our phones. Sometimes I read instead. And then it goes like this by eight o’clock:
Me to Shug: “You gettin’ hungry?”
“Yeah…I could eat a little something.”
“Whatchu want?”
“It don’t matter, baby.”
“Well….do you want homemade biscuits & sausage gravy? Or eggs, bacon, & rice…or omelets & fried taters? Or cereal and a banana?” I don’t offer pancakes unless I’m feeling very generous. I don’t like pancakes early in the morning. They turn my stomach with their sugary flavor.
“What do you feel like?” He always answers.
And I try to determine what he wants, unless I do have a preference.
And then I get to fixing it, we eat, I wash dishes. If I haven’t yet made the bed, I do so then. And then it’s time for a nap. Or to post a rambling status on Facebook.
