Mama’s Hobo Handouts Sunday, Jul 10 2011 


I’ve been thinking this morning over coffee, and I think I may have come up with an idea that’s going to make me & Mama rich. I haven’t exactly worked out all of the kinks in the plan yet, but the wheels are turning and I think I may have stumbled onto something brilliant. Allow me to think out loud here.

When I was away at school my last two years of high school and the four years following for college, my mom used to send me makeup and money in care packages. If she had time, she’d even put a sticky note in there saying, “Love, Mama.” Never home-baked cookies or long drawn out letters or anything because Mama was busy. She looked out for her girls though and would sometimes cut articles out of the newspaper warning us of life’s dangers with headlines like, “Why Women Should Always Carry Mace,” or “Pitt Bull Mames and Scars Well-meaning Dog Lover at Festival,” and stuck to the article would be a sticky note that said, “SEE! That’s why you never go around petting OTHER PEOPLE’S dogs!!! Love, Mama.” One time when I was “studying” in Spain for a summer, I called Mama collect and told her I needed her to send me some deodorant STAT. I was running out and decided not to purchase a foreign tube because the same-looking packages must contain different chemical compositions since too many people had offended me with their B.O. She apparently understood the gravity of the situation and high tailed it to K&B and subsequently the post office. When my package arrived a week later, I excitedly opened it in front of my friends and the gravity hung my head in shame when my friends saw the contents. Not one but TWO sticks of deodorant and…. well, no “and.” That was it. No cookies and not even a note this time, but I knew she loved me anyway despite the barren box.

My mama is one of those people who has a very hard time saying no. She also has a very big heart, so the combination doesn’t always produce desirable consequences. Take the homeless people, street corner hobos and the panhandlers from The WalMarts. We really have no way of distinguishing who is truly in need of a hand up and who is simply a con artist and when you walk away. Whether you have donated or not, you leave feeling a little disheartened. Were you duped and therefore perpetuated a practice that the businesses in the area frown upon because it drives away customers? Did you say no and may have just left a needy person hungry? Did you refuse to give money and give someone a box of pop tarts you happened to have with you only to be scolded by your lack of generosity from the guy requesting? I’ve done all three. Mama’s done all three. Mama went so far in a restaurant one time to give a guy $20 for the part he needed to fix his car in the parking lot only to have the staff approach her later and tell her not to do that again since the same guy has been run out of the restaurant many times before always leaving with a wad of cash from his con. “But he looked so nice and honest. He was all nicely dressed and well spoken!,” declared Mama. “That’s why it works for him,” declared the manager. Maybe she feels bad when she sees someone drooling because their mama didn’t catch the Seal A Meal correlation early enough.

One of my friends posted a picture a while back of her little “Hobo Bags – The Halloween Edition.” This girl is the cutest, peppiest thing to walk the planet. She has more energy that the Energizer Bunny and she never slows down. She always manages to take care of the kids, husband, house, business AND herself and she looks great doing it too! She sat down with the kids and made Hobo Bags for the homeless filled with little travel size wet wipes, toiletries, snacks and water and I thought it was a FANTASTIC idea! Win-win! She kept the kids busy and also taught them how to be charitable at the same time while providing something that’s useful and I’m sure appreciated by those who receive the little bundles from the back of her car. If she can figure out how to monogram a Ziploc bag, I wouldn’t put it past her to do it too.

Hobo Bags - The Halloween Edition

Here’s where my mind is going now though.I know a whole helluvalotta people who simply don’t have the time or don’t THINK they have the time or don’t want to SPEND the time doing this. BING! Why couldn’t Mama and I mass produce these little bags of joy and then sell them at a small mark-up to the LAZY charitable people?? I think there’s a whole market there that hasn’t been tapped yet. I mean, we’ve all learned to give back through time, effort and money aimed at charitable causes, but we’re still stuck wincing and walking around people sometimes at The WalMarts and city street corners. What if we ALL had Hobo Bags in our cars – even the Lazy Givers? Mama and I could make an assembly line at the kitchen table with Kendall Jackson and churn out a bunch of these puppies that the LGs (Not lesbians and gays although I’m sure there are plenty of lazy giving lesbians and gays too because I know some) could then PURCHASE from US to keep in their cars!! The LGs would feel good about handing out their bags, the truly needy people would be appreciative, the con artists would be PISSED, and Mama and I would make a nice little profit. Everybody wins!!! And then we could put a nice little sticky note in there that said something like, “Love, Mama ♥” People would get all warm & fuzzy, and Mama could make up for all the “practical” care packages she sent me and my sisters in college that I’m sure she feels just terrible about, bless her heart.

Y’all get ready because I think this is gonna happen. I’m going to get my people on it (as soon as I get “people”) so be looking for them on the shelves at The WalMarts. I think I’ll call them Mama’s Hobo Handouts!

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Back To The Future – The Triple Challenge Friday, Jul 8 2011 


I signed up for this whole blog thing just three weeks ago and I guess I jumped in with both feet. Now I’m part of a “Post A Day” challenge and receive emails for inspiration. The photo challenge headline was “Old Fashioned” and the post challenge was “Write about your earliest memory.” Since I don’t have a lot of time here, I’m going to try to be creative to combine both while also keeping my Facebook peeps in the loop with what we are up to in Our Town. It’s a triple challenge! So I’m going to take you back to 1955, 1985 and possibly into the future as well at EXACTLY 88 miles per hour because at PRECISELY 10:04pm lighting is going to strike my clock tower with the 1.21 gigawatts of electricity I need to hit the bed and be re-charged for tomorrow. That gives me one hour to compose my tale and meet all three objectives so buckle up and get into my DeLorean because we’re going to go fast…

I took Brother out for some special one-on-one time when Sister started Art Camp this summer. We hit up an old battleship and managed to get a private tour in the middle of one of the hottest days of the year through a steel oven that had no open doors or windows for circulation. It was built sometime near the end of WWII and we were actually informed that it was a destroyer quite aptly named as you should have seen my hair and makeup by the time we left. We got to check out the innards of this hot box on water and got to climb every ladder and go down every “hole with a pole” so the kid was in heaven. I left with one of the images burned into my brain. My kid actually had to ask me what this was and the conversation went something as follows:

The old typewriter from our Battleship Tour

What’s that?!?

Well, Brother, it is a typewriter.

It looks weird. What’s it for?

Communicating with other people. Like… writing letters and then putting a stamp on them and delivering them through the postman.

They didn’t have email, huh? Or computers. Or electricity. Did YOU have to do that to talk to your friends before there were telephones?

Oh, Brother. You’re in for it.

Who invented it?

Um. Well. I dunno. But I’m pretty sure it was another Brother who marketed it and put his name on it: Brother. Ha! See! I do know something kid.

(more…)

Mayhem and Me Sunday, Jul 3 2011 


You know that guy from the Allstate commercials, Mayhem? Well I’m friends with him on Facebook. He’s with me in all my states of waking consciousness in life. I think one the best decisions I’ve made was finally accepting him as a friend and quit running away from him. He’ll chase you through the house, embarrass you in the carpool line and make your kids throw their chicken strips across The Olive Garden resulting in total mortification when the THUD hits the floor in front of the Cleavers at the next booth leaving you with the stabbing pains of guilt and humiliation. Just when I think I’m about to lose my ever-loving mind – which by the way I must say often enough that my boy has taken to repeating my tag line verbatim to Mario every time he crashes – Mayhem comes in and says something funny to break the tension.

Here’s the deal. Mayhem will let you embrace him. He just wants to be recognized. I pretended for a long time like he wasn’t there standing next to me pulling at my strings like a puppet master that caused me to look like some comedic poltergeist had taken over my body and those of my family for far too long. We hid him away like a crazy Aunt Edna that we kept in the closet so that we could all look perfect and proper. Well, guess what. Not anymore! Dude is coming along with me EVERYWHERE because he’s funny. He’s WAY funnier than his cousin Despair. I’ve made the mistake of actually INVITING that guy in and I’ll never do it again. It was my own fault really because I was the one the let that guy into our castle. The husband and the kids and even the dog had to pick up his mess. That’s the guy that you do NOT want around. He’s the one who makes you cry and sleep and cry again until you fall asleep. He’ll plop his tush on the couch and settle in with a bag of Cheetos and then have the nerve to ask you to bring him a beer and wipe his orange fingers on your lovely upholstery and there won’t be anything funny about it. (more…)

My Daily’s Post Saturday, Jul 2 2011 


I just signed up for this challenge where I’ve committed to posting DAILY for the rest of the year. Sometimes I feel inspired and sometimes I don’t. You’d think that after witnessing the guy in the trailer park behind me ride his LAWNMOWER to his buddy’s pad that I’d have something to say. Not really. All that did was make me want to go to The WalMarts when he didn’t return thinking maybe the guy had rambled on over there. For SURE a trip to Wally World was gonna set something off in my brain then, right? It’s an aspiring writer’s PLAYGROUND with characters waddling about doing things the rest of us could never DREAM of doing and saying things the rest of us can’t even comprehend. Literally! Nah. There was nothing for me to ramble about. It wasn’t until I returned home with my Great Values and opened my freezer that it hit me. There it was! My Daily’s Inspiration!

Look, at this stage in my life I know a lot of women who keep little frozen bags of breast milk in their freezers. Not me! Nope. No more bottles for this baby unless they have wine in them. When I run out of things to say, I may rip the top off of one of these babies and see what flows from my brain as the sweet frozen goodness flows from its pouch. Since it’s summer and all, maybe these little pouches should be consumed Daily, you know, just to keep my own creative juices running and maintain my sanity. I think that’s what the name implies. Maybe they are like those anxiety medicines that actually need to build up in your system to maintain maximum effectiveness and proper dosage is required. They are only like a buck too. Not a buck FOR TWO, but The WalMarts is known for rolling back prices though so keep a look out. How ’bout that. A dollar a day could keep the writer’s block away.

My friend says they look like Caprisuns for adults and she’s TOTALLY right!! The kids can have their lemonade pouches while you enjoy your own. You can even enjoy them straight from the bag without looking trashy because it says so right on the back of the pouch. These don’t come with straws though because they’d probably have to charge an extra nickel at The WalMarts for that kind of luxury. I think I may have an old Burger King cup in my car though and be all GREEN, ya know. I mean, not like green MOLD or anything cause I’d be sure and wash it and all. I mean green like recycling because I’ll get extra uses from the BK sucker. I bet I could think of lots of OTHER uses for this little bag too: (more…)

Our Town Friday, Jul 1 2011 


I woke up this morning to my very own custom-made publication. No, I have not been published YET, but it seems that my daughter has taken an interest in writing as well. In her version of the local crime blotter, the cub has taken to reporting the words and actions of her brother. I’m thinking this is NOT going to win her a Pulitzer, however a Pull-At-Her (hair) may be in store once little brother can read. The headline read, “Vampire In Town” so I’m not sure if this implied that he bit her or what, but she had been sure to clearly depict the villain in his superhero pajamas. There was a Style section, Sports section, and even an Entertainment section with movies and show times gathered from my little iPhone app. We seem to have created our own little city of sorts and every city needs a Town Crier. We have two, quite possibly three if I finally break by the end of Summer.

What got me going on this was my discovery a couple of days ago. A fight of sorts had broken out in the street, or hall, or whatever you want to call it. Sister was screaming that Brother had locked himself in his room with all of the checkers, and she could hear them clinking together as he counted his stash. That’s what I said – CHECKERS. This should NOT be cause for alarm on a normal day because she is usually TRYING to get him to stay out of her room and in his own. So WHAT was the problem? As best I could tell through the tears and high-pitched siren-like cries, Brother had stolen all of the “checkers” from the Connect Four game and was hoarding them in his room. She then explained to me that this meant she could no longer Do anything, BUY anything, or have FUN of any kind until she recovered her rightful portion of the loot. Slowly I began to understand. It seemed these two had reverted back to caveman days in more ways than one and devised a bartering system for goods and services here in Our Town. How civilized! Unexpected? Yes. Brilliant? Right on! I was so proud! This discovery meant there was hope for law and order in the Wild West after all. When one child wanted to borrow something from another, a price was set. If that price was mutually agreeable, then a deal was sealed, you checked out at the registers where checkers were exchanged and everyone was happy without calling in The Law, ME. “Now I get it! THAT’s what the little price tags posted in the bedrooms meant,” I thought. It was further explained to me that “reds” were worth $100 and “yellows” were a mere $1, and Sister had slowly accumulated ALL of the checkers. This was where I was going to have to mosey in and reclaim my town however.

I interrogated Brother for a few minutes after dismissing the complainant and found he had an understandable reason for stealing the checkers. The poor kid was literally poor. He had spent all of his checkers purchasing goodies from The Sister Store and had priced his own items in Brother’s Market unreasonably high. There was actually little demand for his supply of goods as the only thing he had become willing to sell or part with was broken pieces of toys and pictures of himself. It had become a buyer’s market and Sis wasn’t buying his wares. He also wasn’t willing to sell any of his alloted time on the Wii as he was in desperate pursuit of some special badge or title or trophy or something in his rat race with Mario. I had to feel sorry for the kid, but I couldn’t let The Village People run amuck. The was not the Y-M-C-A and boarders had to obey the law of the land. Once the situation had been explained to Sister, she took pity on the defendant and allowed him into her saloon with no hard time served. (Actually it’s really more of a Salon since she doesn’t serve the hard stuff – only Koolaid- and  Barbie Doll heads and nail polish are scattered about.) (more…)

“One Shoe Can Change Your Life” – Cinderella Friday, Jun 24 2011 


After yesterday’s post, a few friends from my Fame-like high school responded to me in one way or another. One former classmate, now current friend, said she could only vaguely remembers me dancing and must’ve blocked my smooth moves from her memory. Gee, you think she’s jealous much? I don’t think she actually remembers anything at all because she was a year behind me following in MY footsteps at this junior and senior level school, and I don’t think I danced that year. By then, I had tippy-toed onto other things. She got me going on something here though, and I thought about the little plaque that hangs by my closet. It says, “One shoe can change your life.” I had this back at the old house, but it carries new significance with all of the changes and little creature friends now at this castle.

I grew up dancing – ballet, tap, jazz, modern. My first teacher was an inspiration and that inspiration came from her panties. Hear me out here. She was a BEAUTIFUL woman and as eccentric as she was beautiful. She used to complain about the humidity here messing with her hair and how she would probably have been better suited for a drier climate. When she wasn’t wearing flowers in her hair or a turban of some sort, she was actually known to wear a pair of panties on her head for rehearsals. She claimed that the inspiration went in one hole and the perspiration went out the other. I have GREAT hair, but I think I picked up a thing or two from her. My panties are worn in the proper place however, thankyouverymuch!

My sisters grew up dancing as well, and my mom spent hours a week on the road between the dance studio and the house since we were there every day of the week and usually weekends as well. One year we TOTALLY dominated the Christmas Rudolph performance. It was a Sister Act because from beginning to end, at least one of us was in every scene and surely as entertaining as Whoopi herself. My most memorable performance however was Cinderella. I got to perform a pas de deux as one of the Autumn Fairies with my friend. As only I would do, I found myself chatting it up backstage with one of the cute stage hands and missed my cue. What made me realize that I had missed my grand entrance you ask? Well, it was the giant THUD that came with the landing of Cinderella’s pumpkin. My partner was performing and tossed the big orange ball into the air blindly behind her expecting me to be there to catch it as rehearsed. Guess what. I was not. MORTIFIED, I galloped onto the stage and attempted to save the show. Remember the big Saturday Night Live performance when Ashley Simpson got cold busted lip syncing and did that bizarre little thumbs-out-wiggle attempting to save face and then blamed her BAND? I guess my scene unfolded a little like that. I flew in from the wings and faced the BACKDROP. And CRIED. But I still SMILED through the tears at NOBODY and MADE UP a bizarre little ditty like some comedic poltergeist had taken over my body while my teacher stared in total HORROR. I couldn’t even look at her. Eventually her voice broke through my fog, and I finished the second half of the dance as choreographed. God! It was like watching an awkward Ben Stiller movie, I’m sure. Picture him now in pink tights and a tutu and pointe shoes pirouetting. Not a pretty sight, but back to my point. Not a soul could cushion the fall from grace in those pink soles. I call that vivid memory, The Great Pumpkin Dance. And the first sounds of my teachers instructions were garbled like the Teacher from Charlie Brown. God, what a nightmare. Boy, I bet she misses me now, huh? If I have you on overload with my wordsmithing here, then tough. My brain works like that Bing! commercial and this is MY blog so you can keep up or step away. (more…)

My Steel Magnolias Thursday, Jun 23 2011 


It’s been raining for a few days straight here, and as I sat on the balcony drinking coffee this morning I got to thinking about friends. And the term “fair weather” friends. This morning’s coffee comes courtesy of a Frosty mug. (Not like it’s spiked or anything since people usually think of beer being served in frosty mugs. Totally sober here. For real.) I won this mug at a bunko game back when we actually PLAYED bunko. Looking at Frosty, as I have now named him since he is a snowman and I am  clever, gives me a toasty, warm and fuzzy feeling because he makes me think about My Girls. Now we just get together at a restaurant. And rest. And rant. Usually we talk about what’s going on with who and laugh over cocktails. Bunko has kind of become like the game Marco Polo because there isn’t really any rhyme or reason to when it gets called. Sometimes I call bunko when I can’t really “see” things right and want to reach out to my girls. Don’t look for a picture of the Bunko Girls yet. I doubt I’d get that many women to agree on one picture where everyone’s hair looks nice and nobody thinks they look fat. Check out Frosty below mugging for the camera though. He’s sitting there for me, with the dark clouds behind him and the communication tower of some kind just off in the distance. Don’t correct me if I’m wrong about that big thing either. Because then I’ll look stupid and the rest of this won’t make sense so just go with me here.

Even on rainy days when the sun isn’t so bright, I can send out a signal to some girlfriends and see who’s up for a game. I don’t always hear back from all of them, but that doesn’t mean I should assume they are fair weather friends. They just may not be able to communicate what they’re thinking when the clouds are blocking the signals. Some people may actually be those fair weather friends, I guess, and don’t want to get out in the storm lest their hair frizz. I get that too. I know I don’t always want to walk around with frizzy hair either. Occasionally, most of us do put on our hats and stylish rain boots though and just prepare for a bad hair day. Donning that rubbery soled footwear and choosing to brave the storms to help out a friend can be good for the soul. I’m speaking in metaphors here, but sometimes girlfriends can just appreciate a really great pair of shoes too, and it’s as simple as that!

“I promise that my personal tragedy will not interfere with my ability to do good hair.”

– Steel Magnolias

I could go on and on and onandonandonandon with the Steel Magnolia quotes since it’s one of my total faves, but Annelle says that to Truvy in the beauty shop when she’s trying to explain some of the gossip around town regarding her past. It’s really none of their business. The girl wants a job and wants to prove she can be professional. I love it!  I think I may be looking for a job myself with this writing gig, but I also see it as a shout out to my girls to let them know that I’ll be there for them even if I have other things going on myself.  And all of us will always have good hair! You know, I went to high school in the same town that Steel Magnolias was filmed. From what I’ve heard, that scene from the beauty shop was filmed at the home of a school employee. I went to a school for the “gifted and talented.” Some girls, that SOMEHOW I never managed to talk to at that high school, have become GREAT friends now and encouraged me to share my “gift” and “talent.” They’ve been a gift for ME for sure. Perhaps they saw my knack for writing and forecasted the rainy days to come in the present. We connected through Facebook, and I have gotten to know some of them really well. Lovely ladies – all of them gifted. You don’t have to attend a school like that however to discover your own gifts. We all have them. My writing didn’t start until one week ago. That gift sat in a box I guess, like moving boxes often do, and I just now dusted it off and unpacked it. Maybe I didn’t see it because this particular box wasn’t wrapped up in the sparkly kind of paper I love. There wasn’t even a ribbon. (more…)

Learning to Fly Tuesday, Jun 21 2011 


“Well I started out down a dirty road
Started out all alone

And the sun went down as I crossed the hill
And the town lit up, the world got still

I’m learning to fly, but I aint got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing

Well the good old days may not return
And the rocks might melt, and the sea may burn

I’m learning to fly, but I aint got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing

Well some say life will beat you down
Break your heart, steal your crown
So I’ve started out for God knows where
I guess I’ll know when I get there

I’m learning to fly, around the clouds
But what goes up must come down

I’m learning to fly, but I ain’t got wings
Coming down is the hardest thing”

-Tom Petty

This is the song that came to mind yesterday over coffee on the balcony. I started to blog about it, but something else entirely came out. Now I see why. I have a lot more to say about it today while the PETTY things are trying to get in the way. I still have MY crown though. The clouds are around indeed today, and I’m doing my best to fly around them. A friend told me yesterday that it seems like this stuff is just pouring out of me. Well, when it rains it pours. Some of you probably checked the forecast and saw this coming, right? Well not me. I didn’t see it coming til it actually was right up on me. Story of my life. As God would have it, it’s actually raining outside this morning, and if I’m going to drink my coffee on the balcony like every other morning so far, then Imma be gettin’ WET (said in my best Will.I.Am voice) And Imma be puttin’ it on the blog. ‘Cause rockin’ like this is my job! (It’s a non-paying gig so far, but it’s still a job.) And Imma be takin’ them pics. And lookin’ all FLY. Imma be the FLYest chick, so FLY. Imma be spreadin’ my wangs. Imma be doin’ my thang. Get it, get it!!?? OK. No worries though. If Imma be gettin’ wet, I ain’t gonna melt. I’m not the witch in this fairy tale.

I haven’t seen my bunnies yet this morning. They probably take cover when it rains. NOT my birds though. I watched one on the fence in the rain like he was trying to make a decision about where to go. Stupid birds. The dark clouds come in, the wind blows, the sweet bunny friends hide, and the mockingbirds sit out just looking for someone to pick on. Do they not get that THEY are the ones getting WET? Yep. Alot like life and the people in it, don’t you think? Take note Bird People. Get out of the rain!!! Or get an umbrella, at least. But don’t ask to come onto my balcony. I can’t shelter you from life’s storms. You’re going to have to do that yourself, and I have no room for you here in my castle anyway especially when the THUNDER ROLLS. (Thanks, Garth.)

GUESS who I saw yesterday that got me going on the song??? The baby bird, Tweety!! And guess what he was doing. Yep! Learning to fly. How do you like that?! I was sitting on the balcony and he flew right up and landed on the gutter. And I took a pic, of course!!

When I first discovered him, I was, yes, sitting on the balcony again, and I watched a neighbor walk past and point out to his wife the little bird in the bush. They stopped a minute, checked out the bird, then went on their way. As they walked away I heard the guy say matter of factly, “It’ll probably be dead tomorrow. It’s sitting on the ground where anything can get it. It can’t even fly yet, and it’s probably hungry.” The guy was just making an observation and stating it matter-of-factly. Well, I jumped up, ran downstairs (with my phone of course) and sought out the baby bird. I’m a super steady photographer, so it’s your own fault if you choose to watch the clip and get dizzy as a result, OK? Oh, yeah. You’ll also have to LEAN SIDEWAYS because I don’t know how to turn the video either. I’m WINGING it here ya’ll! (more…)

Our Little Miracle Monday, Jun 20 2011 


A month ago I started a new chapter in my life. And though I probably shocked some people, and maybe even myself, by finally opening this book to a fresh new page, I don’t feel the need to go back and re-read or re-live anything. I also don’t feel it necessary to cite all my sources and reasons for anything in order to justify my work to anyone anymore. My life is turning into a great NEW book. I like to read thrillers and inspirational books alike. Not often though do I come across one that is both. Who would’ve thought I’d be LIVING such a story?!?! My eyes have been open to everything around me lately, and “coincidences” often carry a deeper meaning for me now. A big “coincidence” was discovering the little Miracle next door.

I moved my kids into a little apartment hoping that they’d think this place was actually fancy. We lived in a nice big house with great neighbors in a Norman Rockwell-esque neighborhood where kids rode their bikes down to the swimming pool and tennis courts everyday. Dog walkers waved in the morning, and you could judge how late you were for the morning commute by where on the street some of them were. I swear, many of them would walk past a particular mailbox at the same exact time every morning. Gotta love ’em!

The day I signed the lease here, I didn’t tell anyone, much less my kids. My son, ever the observer, looked out the car window on our way back to the house from running errands and stared at an apartment complex which “happened” to be the sister complex to the one we are in now. He said, “WOW. I wonder how much it would cost to live in THERE?!? That’s FANCY!” We’d passed these particular apartments for the last several years and the little guy had said nothing before of the sort. “Boy, just hold your horses,” I thought. “Let’s see if you’re still carrying that tune a month from now.”

The day we arrived, we found a bunny on our walkway. Rabbits symbolize new life, and this one came with a little girl named Miracle next door. C’mon. What are the chances that her ACTUAL name would be Miracle?? She and Master P, as some of us like to call him, hit it off IMMEDIATELY. She, like P, is 5 but with the mind and mouth of a 25 year old. Her birthday is just the day after mine, so I’ll celebrate Miracle when I open my gifts. She’s been a gift indeed and helped me to recognize gifts of my own that have perhaps been with me all along. Maybe they’ve traveled with me from move to move like those boxes we never get around to unpacking. On our 2nd day here, I overheard them on the steps eating popsicles as I sat on the balcony. The conversation went like this:

P: Did you know that you wanted to be my best friend when you met me?
M: Uh-Huh.
P: Why didn’t you just say something then?
M: You crazy, boy!
P: Why??
M: ‘Cause I dittent want to yet.
P: Dittent?? What’s that mean.
M: Dittent. DITTENT! Whatcha mean what’s that mean? I just dittent want to.
{Sigh and Eyeroll}
You wanna go to Prom with me?
P: Sure. When we’re older. You want something to drink?
M: Sure! Thanks!
{and P ran in to ask me if he could bring Miracle a snack and drink.
Over a Strawberry Little Debbie and Cherry Koolaid, their conversation continued.}
M: Mmm! That’s good!
P: Yeah.
{Then came the awkward silence as P searched for something to say. THIS is what he came out with…}
P: So… Um… You know… That’s not really BLOOD in those things.
They just look like it cause the cake and Koolaid are red.
{And he SMILED. And she FROWNED. I figure he has plenty of time to work on his skills with the ladies, right???}

Master P and Miracle have been best buddies ever since. They’ve danced to Lady Gaga on the landing between our apartments, and she’s been pretty good about not taking off to play without P since he’s not allowed to wander as far away as she is. When she does leave our little courtyard area, my little guy patiently (as patiently as a 5 yr old boy can) just sits and waits for his little Miracle. There ya go! I took a leap of faith and discovered a miracle on the landing for all 3 of us. (more…)

Feeling Good Monday, Jun 20 2011 


I fell asleep with the iTunes on replay mode last night and then was too lazy to get out of bed and shut it off. It kept me awake, but THIS was the song that would stir me every time. NOT a coincidence with all that I have going on now. New bed, new place, new outlook… SING it to me Nina!!!! And looky there.. Here comes the sun 😉

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h8tuTSi6Sck

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