My Middle Child...My Daughter...

They say it's the middle child that becomes the mediator or professional negotiator. Exactly. The most intense joy I've experienced has been from is my middle child. From the moment I tied a pink ribbon around her head (which was in the delivery room within 10 minutes of her birth) 'till a few Saturday's ago when she sang at a military celebration, my heart has smiled when I see her. Everyone who knows her, sees her talent. The Congresswoman who invited her to sing at the event spoke of this at the celebration. Her French teacher at school remarked at the rarity of getting a student like her that has "passion" for the langauge. Everything she does radiates vivaciousness. She is effusive, vibrant, full of zest, and a lover of life. She comes out of her room in a blast on the way to church, etc. and I'm so amazed at her fashion savvy. She holds that head high and exudes a confidence very few learn in a lifetime.
My labor was arduous, not as with my other 2. While carrying her, I would not allow the doctor to tell me the gender of this child in my womb. I simply was overcome with raw and aching need for a girl. I never once looked at girl clothes during my pregnant. I had this distinct fear that I would be unfair in some way to my baby should it be a boy. I just HAD to have a girl. When the doctor announced to the room "It's a girl!", I started weeping. My aunt Deta was holding my hand. I kept saying over and over "It's a girl!, It's a girl!, I don't have to do this anymore!". I never occurred to me that while laboring to deliver this child I was planning another pregnancy just in case it was a boy! My family that stood in the hall did not have to be informed that she had arrived. They all heard me chanting over and over "It's a girl!, It's a girl!".
After saying all this, I need to inform you that she is my clone. A while ago, she came to my room to inform me, "I just give up. I am just like you and I can't change it!". For a couple of years I watched her struggle with trying to be the opposite of what I was. She didn't like my bold, loud purses, nor my tendency to draw attention to myself in dress, hairstyle, etc. Soon thereafter she was borrowing those very purses and clothing. Now, if we both have trips it's a race to claim who gets what. It's humbling to see yourself in someone. I see myself in her daily and that changes my thought processes and actions often.
I will continue to watch her fulfill her potential as time rocks on. And her ability to "fulfill" will forever amaze me. There is nothing she cannot accomplish, and what I so love is her discipline and willpower. They will take her far beyond the reaches that even I can concieve. While colleges continue to court and she stays in her continual dither over where, when and what, I will stand back and be amazed. Did I mention I birthed this child?=)

Patience, please.

Blogging is like the tides. The mood comes and goes. Summer is in full swing, and with hummingbirds flitting, oleanders blooming, and lemonade freshly squeezed, I tend to not peruse email for days on end. This week I had my first autumnal pang, with visions of my beloved boots dancing in my head. Maybe once life gets back into "rut" status i.e. No. 2 pencils sharpened, I will settle back into blogging. I must admit it was all consuming for a time. The consumation is sure to resurface when those long cool evenings arrive. Until then, for all those who ask, patience, please.=)

Ground "Chuck"

You can look into your child's eyes and know when something is awry. He was looking up at me from the grocery basket so sheepish that I knew something was up. The magpie standing beside my cart simply would not hush. I had tried to avoid her, but when you are in the grocery with all 3 of your children under age 7, they are hungry and supper is late, you simply don't have all your wits about you. I was more concerned with what all they were adding to the cart than with making sure to avoid the most talkative human in my city. The day had been long, and I ran in to shop quickly I'd hoped. While she rattled on, basically blocking my path, I kept getting those looks from the little man sitting facing me. When I finally was able to break away and I pushed my cart forward, the reason for all those looks was revealed. There on the floor were little piles of ground chuck. That precious little darling had been reaching around behind him, sticking his fingers through the plastic and digging out ground chuck, then dropping the small wads onto the floor. Of course all this was happening on the opposite side of the cart where I was being bombarded.
Today I have felt as if my insides were ground chuck and someone was throwing parts of me on the floor. My Daddy would have been 64 today and my loss is so keen that I have the urge to hide. Why do I tend to hide when things feel out of kilter? How very apropos that we used to jokingly call my Daddy "Chuck", a derivative of his given name which was Charles. I'm told that as a child that nickname would infuriate him. I remember his fussing when me or one of my siblings would say "Hey Chuckie baby!".
There is a list of things that always seem to soothe my injured spirit. I tried them all over the course of my day. I watered my yard. I lit a candle. I bought groceries. I then put them away. I read some blogs. I bought 2 magazines that I shouldn't have splurged on. I turned on soothing music. I put on a favorite nightgown. I poured myself a Diet Barq's in a beautiful glass. All to no avail.
I've now just decided to blog. This rawness will no doubt be eased in the morning. This sort of day is rare for me, and I sometimes have to just give in to it. I shall wake up and be back to normal, not mentally making a list of things that heal me. I am going to have a day where the things I love doing come naturally and make my heart smile. I desperately miss you "Chuck"....uummm....Daddy.=)

Is there such a thing as lusting for a mixer? 

The subject from below....=)

My first born

Time flies. Period. Oh, about 6 months ago or so, my son was born. He is now 20 years of age. What a blur his life has been for me, yet I can see it in slow motion. He has given me joy, undescribable joy. When in his stroller, if I put a hat on his head, he never removed it. He loved me pushing him around the mall. Tie a balloon on the front, and he'd ride for hours. He was close to 3 before he really got "dirty". We took pictures of him with his filthy hands and feet because it was such an oddity. He loved playing in his toy box, but being a first child, I just didn't let him play outside that much. (More later on the child that stayed "dirty".) Before he turned one, he'd pull pots and pans out from under the counter and beat them as a drum set, just like he saw the guy at church do. As a toddler, he'd ask for his drum to be tied around his neck. (We'd been to a parade and he saw the drummers marching with their drums in front of them.) His Aunt Deta, the aunt we just lost to breast cancer, came in one day with a huge box. It contained a drum set. He was around 3 or so. He beat till I was deaf. He'd dig in that toy box and pull out instruments, of which he had many. He would say "Mama, you play loggy-loggy". This was a tambourine that his grandmother would beat against her hand and say "lordy-lordy-lordy". He'd then say "Bibbie, you play "tar"(guitar)". We'd join his band while he beat the drums. Me and his grandmother would take turns singing while he performed. He joined the school band in the 6th grade which absolutely fueled his passion. From then on, he beat on any available surface. The dashboard of the car, the kitchen table, the desk in his room. He excelled. The band director contacted me about private study to advance him even further. His private instructor from the local university told us about a Real Feel pad that has the same feel as a snare, but makes no noise. It's a black rubber disk for snare drum students. Oh the joy! He practiced on that and our ears had a rest. I always wondered what the neighbors thought previous to the pad. I'd get a craw full and make him go outside to practice. You could hear him the entire neighborhood over. Then in the 7th grade, he began to play as a stand-in at church. A few short months later, the sanctuary choir drummer moved away, and Tyler took the slot at a very young 13 years old. He again excelled. The pressure was great, but he handled it with aplomb. He was mentored by the then Music Director of the church, and the bass player with whom he continues to play today. He and his friend are in process of forming a Christian band that I've nary a doubt will go far. They share a love of music that transcends everything other than my love of chocolate....any sort of orange flavored chocolate. Tyler has been an "old soul" since his first days. As a youngster, his eyes held secrets, his demanor was that of a much older child. His friends, for the most part were always his senoir. Today, his best friend, that afore mentioned bass player, is almost 10 years older than him. That calm, assured personality will take him far in life. Imagine my joy last semester when I received a letter from the school stating he's on the Dean's List. He got the "design" award in his field and his picture in the paper receiving that award made my heart sing. Have I successfully made you aware I am proud of this child? This newborn who has become an accomplished musician and talented "designer"? Stay tuned, more on this child will be made known.....as time flies.

Visit www.leftbraincentral.blogspot.com for a look at his marvelous brain.

A favorite picture of me and my girl.  

Backdoor Cafe, a taste of NYC right here in Columbia, Mississippi

Take someone from far away, place them here in the Backdoor Cafe, and they'd guess they were in the heart of Manhattan.... Backdoor Cafe, my favorite cafe in the entire world....=)

My Birthday Dinner

My birthday dinner at the Backdoor Cafe turned out to be one of the favored evenings in my life. The 3 most precious people of my entire existance were present, and we celebrated. The ambiance, the food, the company were absolutely perfect.=)

Dinner on the Patio

I had friends over and we such a wonderful time. I set an incredibly beautiful table with a red summer theme. I lit torches in my side garden, the music was Michael Buble' and the company interesting. For starters, we enjoyed white grape juice with peaches. We had Bacon-wrapped chicken breasts with a cool pasta salad and poppy seed breadsticks. The evening ended with Raspberry Martini's for dessert in my colbalt martini glasses. I call them a "cheater dessert" because they are exquisite yet so easy to make. They consist of raspberry sorbet, sliced strawberries, and sparkling grape juice poured over it in "coke float" style. I topped them with a biscotti. A good time was had by all.....

NYC

Me and my 3 enjoyed NYC for Christmas this year..this was our arrival in the big city by train after flying in heavy holiday traffic for most of the day...

For the Love of Blog...

After posting on my new blog, the little button at the top right that says “next blog” caught my eye. I clicked it over and over and discovered an unlimited reservoir of topics that I could read for days and days. There is Anne’s Food with posting on her culinary weekend in Paris along with recipes galore, then Domestic Goddess with a “lusting” category that has pictures of items she is dying to add to her collection of kitchen accessories! Each blog has a list of links that sends you to more and more blogs that are also chock full of information. I then found a blog about a group of friends that all attended high school together, all met this summer for a sort of reunion, and made a blog from it. Ahhh, I shall make a blog for my supper club. My friend tells me I am addicted to blogging now. Maybe, maybe not. This too shall pass at some point in my life I am sure, but for now, it soothes me.

Polka Dots make for smiles.....

How much more happy can you be? I spotted this polka dot cement truck right in the heart of Manhattan...who would have ever thought?....=)

Doughnuts and Dieting

Last night I had this intense conversation with myself. Having made reservations for my 4th of July weekend, I made the decision to have only grilled chicken, green beans and salad for the next 2 weeks. As in the past, I had this overwhelming craving to consume the worse thing possible on the first day of "chicken and green beans only". I fully realize it's totally subconcious, but I can't seem to stop it. Being the optimist I am, I consider it a really good sign though. There I went, straight to the Krispy Kreme drive-up window for a lemon filled confection. Which means, I really am serious about dieting. I know. I know. What a twisted way of dieting, but let me explain. My getting a doughnut really does means I'm totally serious about losing. When I make up my mind to really do it, the next 2 days are a frenzy of eat-it-while-you-can-soon-it-will-all-be-illegal mind set. I consume each and every thing I see that looks good. And I search out things that are good but out of sight. For instance, a banana split, or a hot fudge cake are things I will hunt down. Whew, I'm really glad to find them. It's as if once I make myself good and sick on these rich things, it's not so hard to give them up. Well, today is day one of the eat-everything days. One more day, then my mind will be primed and ready for all the chicken and green beans I can stand.=)

lillies 

irises 

My Yard

I have now been "living single" for 7 years, divorced for almost 4. Wow, what an impact that had on my life. I developed an acute love for gardening around the beginning of that tumultuous time.

My Daddy has been gone for almost 2 years. I still sometimes involuntarily pick up my cell phone to call him. Other days when I drive past the cemetary where he lays at rest, I say "Hello Big Daddy". My love of gardening increased after his death.

My Aunt Deta, to whom I was extremely close, passed away last month. There have been numerous bleak days as of late. The lower she got, the more I dug in the dirt. As she worsened, my time in my yard increased. What is it about sticking your fingers in the earth that has a soothing quality to it?

I now have a quite lovely yard. But oh the torment I endured for it to get to this place. I have mandevilla growing up an arbor that encases what I call my "secret garden". My friend Sharon bought me the vine in remembrance of my aunt. There is also yarrow, old fashioned cannas, and leatrice which I purchased the week after we lost Aunt Deta. The beautiful topper on her casket had bold purple leatrice in it. It gives me lovely thoughts of her to see it blooming. The area of my yard that I love most is my "tropical paradise". A banana tree that has been on earth much longer than I resides there. It grows to some 12 feet in height yearly and produced some very pitiful bananas last year. There is a small fountain that is multi-tiered and has a dancing frog on the top level. Lantana, daylillies, orange cannas, blanket flowers, irises, and verbena thrive. My mailbox bed has lillies, a clematis Nanna bought me last year, and vinca all blooming profusely. Each time pour water to that small bed, I think of my Dad. He owned and operated a snowball stand each summer for years. The post my mailbox is on is the bright red he painted it, originally holding up the porch on the snowball stand.

Not only does my yard soothe my injured spirit, it brings me immeasureable joy. Nothing brings more contentment than having something on the grill, my patio table set to perfection, my yard blooming exuberantly, and expecting company for dinner.=)

O.J. all over again..

Sitting by the TV, I well remember the sickened feeling I had when the "not guilty" verdict was read at the end of the O.J. Simpson trial. Today, while sitting in "The Deck" , a local hometown fast food joint, that same sickening feeling was in the pit of my stomach. I must admit it was not to the degree as before, but still there. As each of the 10 counts were read, and the words "not guilty" were said, I was in disbelief. I'm too out of sorts to try and cover the why's and wherefore's of my belief that M.J. was guilty. I shall be content in the fact that he is forever blacklisted in the minds of most. I have no idea what percentage "most" is, I can only speak from those whom I've discussed it with, and from what I heard and saw via talkshows and radioshows. They say the trial was won on "reasonable doubt". How anyone could come up with any "reasoning" that he was innocent is completely beyond me.

Dallas....

Dallas....Wow what a city. My past vision of this city was cowboy boots and hotdogs, with a dash of Neiman Marcus thrown in. That has been revised. I spent 4 days there last week, and shall never think of the city in quite the same way. I had a most wonderful, informative, interesting "tour guide", and that always makes for a lovely time=). I saw the skyline from several lovely vantage points, toured the Natural Science and History Museum which includes IMAX and the Planetarium, went to several thrift stores (which are right up my alley), had breakfast at the Gaylord Texan while watching the water show, dined on exquisite Italian and Mexican, and on top of all that, I saw the Broadway Musical "The Producers"! I laughed so hard my sides hurt! There is more to come on my "tour guide".......

A fancy smancy bottletree=)