What? December Already?

December 3, 2008 at 7:35 pm (General, Memories, Nate) (, )

Jeebus, where did the time go? I’d like to point out, that according the powers that be at WordPress, my last post was # 1,000. I just wish I had a word count. I defected to WordPress in August of 2006 after two years and 700 posts. Since my blogging dropped off considerably there for a while, I can see having 1000 posts now. Back in the day, Blogger used to keep a word count, but I don’t see anything like that here or even on Blogger anymore.

Jeff got us a big tree for the house this year. We had a little tabletop last year, remember?

That’s my Hermione girl underneath. Nate had a dream about her the other morning.

Not much else has been going on that I can think of. Things with Jace are going well. Nate is having trouble in school, I know you’re shocked. I talked to his English teacher this morning. Jeff is hoping to get on as a Carpenter’s Helper where his brother works. I think that is something he would enjoy, he’s good at, and it pays well. That would help him out a lot. I went hunting again but the weather had changed and I saw five does in six hours but no bucks. Yes, the gun was sighted in properly.

Speaking of, we’ll be having tenderloin for dinner. One of the managers at my local convenience store was like, “So, are you going to bring me some tenderloin?” I hate to be rude… but if you want tenderloin then go get a gun, traipse through the woods in the mud and muck, up and down the hollers, or sit on your ass in a tree stand, with the wind howling, waiting for that perfect moment, shoot it, kill it, gut it, drag it, skin it, then have it chopped up and you’ll have your damn tenderloin. He’s not disabled, he’s just as able-bodied as I am to get out and do all of that! Fuck that noise.

Well, I need to go muck out the corner in the living room for the Yule Tree and fix some dinner. Ya’ll have a good one.

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Choice of Words

October 30, 2008 at 7:50 am (Family, Friends, General, Memories, Relationships) (, )

Within the past few days I’ve had a lot on my mind. During the solitary drives to work and home again, I’ve wondered about the evolution of my family, especially on my dad’s side of the family.

My Grandpa Joe was a good man. He was jovial, kind, and loved irritating my mother. However, he wasn’t politically correct in the least. I never heard him call a black man, or African-American, by either of those names. He called them niggers. While the term “nigger” is seen as demeaning and derisive, my grandfather didn’t use it derisively and by that I mean he didn’t use it with malice. There was nothing, in his mind, wrong with saying, “Me ‘n’ Dave and that nigger Jim, we went…” and he would tell his story.

I figured out this wasn’t something nice to say by the way my mother’s back would straighten and her lips would purse and the porch swing would move a little faster. My father, more often than not, would continue to rock in the frayed lawn chair and stare out over the river.

I can only assume that at some point I heard my mother’s opinion of her father-in-law’s choice of words, probably as I lay prostrate outside the bathroom, eavesdropping through the crack at the bottom of the door. (This was one of my favorite eavesdropping spots as all important parental meetings took place in the bathroom, supposedly away from “little people with big ears.”)

Because our parents are our first and most important role models, I began wondering why my father did not adopt his father’s “choice of words.” Was it because his family was one of the few in his tiny community that had a television? Was it because during his high school years of 1956-1960 that the Civil Rights Movement had to have been on that television very prominently?

Was it because there were black families in our community who had children who attended high school with him without all of the racial tensions of the deep South? (His high school had two black school bus drivers and a black teacher.)

Was it because he served in the military with them? Was it because he went to college with them? Was it because he worked with them? Or was there some other incident or even person in his life that made him eschew his father’s “choice of words?”

I most certainly plan on asking him the next time I see him.

One of my other favorite eavesdropping spots was my bedroom window, which overlooked the neighbor’s driveway. If that wasn’t good enough, I could always drop down to my parents’ bedroom window, which was directly under mine, not only to get a better view, but a better earshot of what was going on. At some point my neighbors took in either his niece or her niece. Her name was Brandy and I’ll never forget her.

There were only two black families in our community at the time and everyone knew them. The boys of the “S” family were the sons of the same black teacher that had taught my father and mother at the high school and grandsons of one of the aforementioned bus drivers. I recognized one of them next door at my neighbors’ house. At that time, their back door opened into the driveway, right in eyeview and earshot. I heard my neighbor yelling at Brandy and the “S” man and telling them to get out. And, I heard the word, “nigger.”

I believe that was the first time I had ever heard the word used that way – with anger, disgust, and hate.

I went to the paragon of all things in my life at the time, which would mean my mother. It seems as though by standing in the kitchen washing dishes she was able to absorb via osmosis the fracas next door and was somewhat prepared to answer my questions. I knew the “S” men. One of the them, the younger, was a student teacher at my grade school. Why was my neighbor being so hateful? My mother tried to explain that our neighbor didn’t think that black and whites should date each other.

“But why?”

I would have felt sorry for my mother at this point. There isn’t an answer she could have given me that would have satisfied me. Perhaps it called into sharp focus her own prejudices, that while she may not have agreed with my neighbor’s methods, she did agree with her ideology. I found that out when Troy and I started seeing one another, probably about 20 years later. Now, 30 years later, my mother at least, is more open to inter-racial relationships and figures, hell, anything goes. My father, not so much so, or, do I even really know?

And what the hell did any of us know of “race relations” anyway? The “S” family had been in our community for two or three generations. The “F” family moved away and the “D” family, the father was a teacher at our high school, his wife and their seven children, moved there in the early 80’s. We found their seven children more intriquing than their color. The only other minorities in our community were the “B” family . Their mother was Vietnamese. Yet again, we found it more intriquing that they had five boys in the family and that they were Jehovah’s Witnesses than the fact their mother was from Vietnam.

Other families that had been in the community for a long time had Lebanese and Greek roots, but no one thought much about it other than it made a good story at the Lion’s Club meeting.

Not to say there weren’t racial remarks made in passing, but they were met with stony silence, disapproving looks, and most often a, “Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

Our tiny rural community was hardly a microcosm of America. Still today it isn’t a bustling hub of immigrants and minorities. But, in the turbulent late 50’s and early 60’s, it was progressive for its time and place in America. The principal did not stand on the steps of the high school and block the black children from attending. There were no riots or police dogs or firehoses. The Klan did not ride through the night and burn crosses.

While there are many things I could say about the rural town of my upbringing, the best I can say is that they taught their children to be racially tolerant. Whether it was because we had such a small number of minorities and they were well respected or just because we know what it felt like to be judged harshly and unfairly, not for the color of our skin, but for the location of our birth.

My neighbor was the exception rather than the rule and her son, who was the same age as myself, didn’t share her viewpoint of the world, just as my father did not share his father’s choice of words.

To be continued…

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We Are One Nation

September 11, 2008 at 10:15 pm (General)

Today… let us remember, we are one nation.

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January 8, 2008 at 9:29 am (General, The House)

My weight.

The mail for more beads.


The stuff in my house.


My house.

My car.


With Jeff.


My Christmas tree up and converting it to a holiday tree.


Good dreams about beading and Jerry Cantrell. (Yes, all in one dream. Does it get much better than that?)


The fine weather (for one day.)

My first day off without Nate, without family, without traveling, for three (four?) weeks.

Life is good.  Oh yeah, and LSU won, which means OSU lost. Oh, happy day!

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Still Alive and Buyin’ Beads

December 31, 2007 at 8:22 am (General)

I got my loom for Christmas… too bad I haven’t felt like beading. I’m better, not that I was insanely sick to start with, just sick enough to feel crappy. Now I’m trying to catch up on all the work I didn’t do while I was feeling crappy.

I’m currently making a list of things I still need for the house… like shades or curtains for my bedroom, since my nabes like to leave their kitchen light on all night and it is right outside my bedroom window. I like total darkness when I sleep.

My house looks like Hurricane Nate blew through. Gah!

Speaking of Nate, he made his first batch of candles last night… it went okay. Made a few mistakes, but otherwise, I think it turned out okay.  Haven’t removed the candles from the molds yet, so, we’ll see.

Okay, I gotta shower for work and get my rugrat up. Happy New Year! I’ll be swinging through before too long.

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December 27, 2007 at 9:13 am (General)

with an abcessed tooth. Be back soon.

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Do You Hear What I Hear?

December 25, 2007 at 11:33 pm (Cats, General)


My new massaging slippers (which I can only wear for a very short period of time because they make me horny. As though I need that to happen.)

(Stay away from people like me.)

Viggo Mortensen in all his Russian accented glory in “Eastern Promises.” (I know what to do with all that horniness now.)


My felines enjoying a catnap on Mom’s new Lambie blanket, touted to be “The Sweetest, Softest Nap Blanket on Earth.” I concur.

(I’m just a driver.)

Viggo again.


Slippers again.

Viggo, slippers. Slippers, Viggo.

Merry Christmas to me.

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It’s 7:09 AM

December 22, 2007 at 8:24 am (General, T-Bird, Work)

And I’m preparing to work my last shift before the holiday break. I’ve worked my ass off this week. We’ve all worked our asses off this week.  Yesterday, I had my biggest day ever as a server. I did over $1100 in sales… at lunch. That’s a lot. A whole lot. It helped that the party I was serving said they had been told they could order from the dinner menu, which is twice as expensive as the lunch menu. Except… it was 2 in the afternoon and I had no knowledge of this.

I immediately went to my sous chefs, Jay and Missy, and told them. They freaked out. We don’t have many items which are the same for both menus and nothing for evening was prepped because it was too early. Then I went to Assistant Manager and asked her. She said she had no knowledge of this either, neither did Chef. But, we did it anyway.

After it was all over, I went down to the office and told Manager how proud I was of our chefs for pulling it out of their asses. The group was very happy and tipped me accordingly. I’ve never seen a tip like that before. I thought we were busy the last time I blogged. Yesterday surpassed that by double. Jay said it was the best lunch he’s ever seen, money wise, and honestly, while we spent an incredible amount of time in the weeds, it worked out okay.

But, I’m exhausted. Christmas with my family is tomorrow and no, I don’t have my SIL’s gift finished, nor my parent’s second gift. That’s why I’m up at, now, 7:20 when I have lunch shift and catering today. I’m hungry, my eyes are red, and yesterday evening as I was finishing cleaning the party room, I could barely put one word in front of the other. I think A-Rod, night server and catering guru, might have felt a bit sorry for me.

This is why I haven’t been around to visit or comment but I’m thinking of you all. I gotta roll. Remember to tip your servers and bartenders!!!!

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Rockin’ Around

December 17, 2007 at 12:42 am (General, Music, Nate, Work)

I went Christmas shopping today.  I bought myself a pair of lounge/sleep pants. They are black and have “AC/DC” in red all over them. I also bought myself a beading book that I had before the fire but didn’t have after the fire, some new beads, and some new dichoric glass pendants.

I got some other folks gifts too but I can’t list them here because one of them happens to live with me and is smart enough to check my blog AND the history in my computer. I found this out because he told his dad I was looking at prices on HDTVs and when asked how he knew this, he told him it was because he had looked through the history.

This must be why midterm grades came out and that some certain little someone has improved his grades. If school were a video game, he would make straight A’s.

I’ve been thinking of someone a lot. He at least knows I’m on this planet. Not much else, but he knows I’m on this planet. That’s a start!

I worked a double Friday, 1st shift as server, where we got our asses handed to us, and 2nd shift as hostess, where we again, got our asses handed to us. Yesterday, I worked a catering which is the equivelant of a double shift. Our host was most gracious in tipping the four of us a considerable lump of cash, even though we get a cut of the gratuity on our paycheck. They had the most beautiful house!!!!! And the most incredible kitchen you’ve ever seen. When I’m not exhausted, I’ll tell you about it, and their seven bathrooms. Seven. And their computerized front load washer and dryer.

My cousin has progressed to the end-stage of his battle with cancer.  It’s one of those paradoxes of life that you love someone and you don’t want to see them go, yet, you pray for their departure to the afterlife. Some shitty paradox that is.

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St. John the Wort

December 9, 2007 at 1:04 pm (Beading, General, Nate)

I started taking St. John the Wort yesterday. I figured I could at least do something, even if it isn’t Well My Butrin. Besides that ugly depression, I’ve been having trouble with my sciatic nerve, (I told you my ass hurt), and just general inflammation, especially the middle finger of my right hand (from overuse, I’m sure). St. John the Wort is good for all of those things.

I can say that I got a little sleepy yesterday afternoon but I was also beading my heart out. I took one yesterday after I got home from shopping and then I took one before I went to bed last night. One thing I didn’t realize about St. John the Wort is that it can cause lucid dreaming. I love that.

I dreamt that I was in an elevator, although I didn’t realize it until the elevator door opened, and there stood Viggo Mortensen. Can you say, OH, HELL YEAH. A lucid dream with Viggo Mortensen. It was really a funny dream because it seemed as though I was temping in some big firm in NYC and for some reason I had access to briefcases and somehow came into possession of personal letters from the three main players, besides myself, which was some love triangle. Now, all of these peeps had written letters, or confessions, to Cosmo the Politan Magazine.

I, as the lowly temp, now know all of the dirty secrets of the workplace, and then realize that all of the same letters may be published in the same issue of the magazine and that all of the players would then possibly read the confessions of the other peeps and recognize them. That would make for a pretty funny romantic comedy, wouldn’t it?

Anyway, I think I slept better last night than I have for months on end. I actually woke up refreshed, my ass doesn’t hurt, and although the knuckle of my right middle finger is still swollen, at least it didn’t throb with agony this morning. Could also be that I’m drinking a bit more water, that always helps nasty joint problems.

And while Nate isn’t staring over my shoulder, I’m getting him or have already gotten him a fondue set, a candle making kit, and a soap making kit. The boy loves dipping food in chocolate, he’s always and forever messing with my candles, and soap making is just an extension of ways he can make a mess but be constructive about it. I know he will love it. He was staring over my shoulder this morning as I was searching for soap making kits and he said, “Oh, cool!” Yep, da Momma knows!

Here’s some pics!


Our winter wonderland…


My little dude…


Our Yule tree, complete with cat…


I think Hermione likes the warmth of the lights…


New bracelet (the color sucks!)….


Close up with better color. And that is all.

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