No. More.
I’m hoping they’ll fade soon. Usually by now, anything I’ve dreamed has long been dissipated.
These things we know. A dream can warn us of potential danger. Things that trouble us often crystalize in a dream. Everyone who sleeps, dreams, including animals.
Certain ones I have, though not often, still make me question the sense of them. The purpose. Endlessly trying to figure them out is exhausting – just like my last night’s sleep was. These are the kind of dreams that decide they’d like to hang out with you for a day or so.
It’s very frustrating to me to have dreams that I can’t figure out. These dreams usually involve the past, as they did last night. I’d much rather not have them at all if I have to go back in time and relive moments I don’t want to think about ever again.
So remind me where the sense of it is again?
Tonight... it's gonna be sweet dreams, sweet pea.
Bloodlines and Family Trees
Ever wonder about your own bloodline, and what little pieces of your heritage may have yet to be discovered?
My Mother has done quite a bit of tracking on her own family’s genealogy. She’s ran upon a lot of research done that ends up being quite informative and very interesting. Her paternal ancestry, the Jones’, traces all the way back to Wales, England. Her maternal ancestry, the McCorkles, hailed from Ireland. She has names and even pictures of some, as well as documented dates when certain ancestors came to America. I’ve never done research on my Father’s side, as there would be a large gap on one side in which it would be difficult to find certain information. Whatever the case may be, I feel certain there is no pot of gold at the end of my bloodline.
No matter how much information we’ve ‘gathered’ on our ancestors, we would be fools to believe it’s simply that cut-and-dry. Let’s be honest, there’s always going to be that one or more indiscretion that likely was swept under the rug. Sometimes things come out in the wash, sometimes they don’t. Unless one has strictly royal blood running through their veins, and can prove it – one cannot denounce the possibility of mixed bloodlines within their ancestry.
First Lady Michelle Obama even announced recently that she’d discovered caucasian in her bloodline, from the early slavery times. Her maternal third-great-grandfather was a white man, who fathered Melvinia Shields’ (her maternal third-great grandmother’s) son, Dolphus T. Shields, both of who were slaves.
Here’s a cold hard fact: According to population geneticist Mark Shriver at Morehouse College in Atlanta, GA, a full 58 percent of African-Americans possess at least 12.5 percent European ancestry (which again, is the equivalent of that one great-grandparent).
Bottom line – to anyone still naive enough to believe in the myth of racial purity, this is just one more corroboration that the social categories of ‘white’ and ‘black’ have always been more porous than can be imagined, especially when referring back to that nether world called slavery.
Of course, black and white seems to be the more prevalent bloodline mixture, being as how it was introduced in the days of slavery. But any real case can be made on this when it comes to past migration to the United States. Indian, Latin, English, African, Asian…. it all applies to the same – endless possibilities.
Something to think about this the next time you look in the mirror! This ‘mixed bag’ we have is now what makes up the United States of America. This is us.
Weekend R&R
I’ve looked forward to getting snowed in, or iced in as the case may be, with my guy for the weekend. I opted to stay at my place for this event, reason being in case of a power outage. See, I have a furbaby and he doesn’t – and I couldn’t bear the thought of her being at home without any heat and no mommy’s lap. From what they forecasted, losing power sounded like a strong possibility.
We ended up with around 1.5-2 inches, but half of that underneath appears to be ice – this is very evident just looking down at the blacktop of my parking lot. Although it doesn’t sound like much – the ice is enough to park my ass. Yeah, we get made fun of by people from the north. But as I told a friend a few minutes ago, maybe, just maybe, we show a small hint of intelligence just by NOT attempting to drive in it.
So we’re stocked on food here and have plenty of movies, and candles, on hand. I joked that if we did end up losing power, the frigid temps outside would have at least saved the food.
I do have some fond memories of past snowstorms. Snow-women built with size C-cup boobies. Cramming in a vehicle with friends going four-wheeling out behind my old house. Playing with my little girl and coming in wet and cold, grabbing the hot chocolate and extra marshmallows. As well, there were some not so fond memories, but those I won’t mention. I’d rather remember the good.
I’m moving forward and making my own new memories now. I still have yet to find my ‘way’ in life, though I like to think I’ve gotten pretty good at pretending I have. Still have that bad habit of looking backward from time to time. The what-ifs and all that. Those damned times still exist where I’m obviously more emotional than I should be, or want to be.
A Young Troubadour
You’ll forgive a BS blog today. Well, not totally a BS blog, maybe more of a bs blog. Yeah, that’s it. Lower-case bullshit.
And really, it’s not a bad thing when one feels the need to rattle on about a not-so-important subject. It simply means either a) there are little to no catastrophic events to cover today, or b) the Bonster’s already ranted and raved enough already for a week. I can go ahead and tell you it’s not the latter of the two…
Good ole’ George Strait. Here’s a man who doesn’t have a bad song in his entire arsenal. So this song was in my head pretty much all of yesterday. For some reason, even though I’m not MALE, I can partially relate with the lyrics. If you haven’t ever heard it, check it out – it’s a pretty catchy tune.
I still feel 25, most of the time
I still raise a little cain with the boys
Honky tonks and pretty women
Lord, I’m still right there with them
Singing above the crowd and the noise.
Chorus:
Sometimes I feel like Jesse James
Still trying to make a name
Knowin’ nothing’s gonna change what I am
I was a young troubadour
When I rode in on a song
And I’ll be an old troubadour
When I’m gone.
Well, the truth about a mirror
It’s that a damn old mirror
Don’t really tell the whole truth
It don’t show what’s deep inside
Oh, read between the lines
And it’s really no reflection of my youth.
Chorus:
Sometimes I feel like Jesse James
Still tryin’ to make a name
Knowing nothings gonna change what I am
I was a young troubadour
When I rode in on a song
And I’ll be an old troubadour
When I’m gone.
I was a young troubadour
When I rode in on a song
And I’ll be an old troubadour
When I’m gone.
I’ll be an old troubadour
When I’m gone…
So I got curious.
Troubadour:
1 : one of a class of lyric poets and poet-musicians often of knightly rank who flourished from the 11th to the end of the 13th century chiefly in the south of France and the north of Italy and whose major theme was courtly love.
2 : a singer, especially of folk songs
the truth about a mirror
It’s that a damn old mirror
Don’t really tell the whole truth
It don’t show what’s deep inside
Oh, read between the lines
And it’s really no reflection of my youth.
Mirrors. Yeah, I get this. It doesn’t take much of the ole’ thought process to figure out that mirrors provide a very limited view of ourselves. They only provide an external view, a visual of what’s on the outside. Nothing on the inside. Nothing of how we might be feeling. Nothing of our past. Like The Young Troubadour said, you must read between the lines for that.
Can you imagine looking in the mirror only to see your past, your emotions, your transgressions in life, all staring right back at you?
Yep, God is good, all right. 🙂
The Yellow Brick Road
Do you ever stop and wonder about the order in which things take place in your life? I do.
Takes me back to the old saying, Everything happens for a reason. How about this one – That which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. Always liked that one. And, can’t forget, Anything worth having is worth working for. Yeah, I know.
Our kids. We would never change that part. Our kids are and always will be our heart. Unconditional love, no matter what kind of hand life ends up dealing us.
But the other stuff. All those other sets of events that we may or may not be so fond of. Have you ever wondered what would be different now if you could go back and change things or switch the order of certain events in your life? To perhaps ‘earn back’ some of that lost time?
All of a sudden the time-tornado hits ya, you turn around and you’re forty. I jumped from 20 to 40 – with a fresh-from-scratch start to life. Now just how the hell did that happen?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not sitting on a mountain of regret over here. I used to be, though. I do realize now that anything we’ve been through in life shapes the individual we are today. This wouldn’t be the events theirselves – but instead how we handled it in the end. The outcome. My own decisions. My own path.
The clock struck midnight. And the day was done.
It’s not wasted time. The times of the past, all the time that leads up to now, is not forever lost in vain. Here’s another favorite – You can’t drive forward if you’re constantly looking in the rear view mirror.
It’s amazing really, the amount of love we have inside us. The ability to heal from inside, and regain the ability to share that love….I’m speaking for myself, of course, when I say I have an enormous amount inside of me. ♥
Life – it’s umm…. well, it’s just beginning. And I really like that.
In debt
I am strong. I am beautiful. I am blessed. I am fragile. I am intimidated.
I am.
In the midst of this cold gray morning, I can see the sunshine. It’s bright.
I cry, I worry, I lose my head and I feel bruised. But I stand up again. How come? What have I done to deserve it? What does God want from me? How can I repay, I have so many debts…
No, don’t think about it. Your debt has already been paid.
I’m smiling. I mean REALLY smiling. How do I go about appreciating such a huge blessing?
Just keep loving me. Walk with me a little more often. You know how I enjoy our walks, and our talks.
You’ve been here all along, haven’t you? How do you do that?
I’m always here. I always have been. I do not decrease, I do not increase. I simply am.
Never leave me, okay?
Smile.
The day you were born
Today is my guy’s birthday. His brother and sister also have birthdays right around this time, so Friday we’ll be going out together to celebrate all three. As for tonight, I’ll be cooking what I hope turns out to be a fab dinner at home for him. I’ve already got the bottle of wine ready, and yes I match the wine up with the entree. Ha ha!
Here’s a bit of birthday ‘history’, courtesy of This Cool Site…
We are so used to celebrating our birthday every year that it seems like it’s been a tradition almost forever!! But there too is a birthday history, and a place and time it all began…
When early people had no way of keeping track and marking time (except by the moon, sun or by some important event) little attention was paid to the anniversary of a person’s birth. Everyone realized, of course, that people grew older as time passed; but they didn’t mark any special milestone for it. Only when ancient peoples began taking notice of the moon’s cycles, did they pay attention to the changing seasons and the pattern that repeated itself over and over and so they began to mark and note time changes. That’s the start of birthday history.
Eventually, the first calendars were formulated in order to mark time changes and other special days. From this tracking system came the ability to celebrate birthdays and other significant anniversaries on the same day each year.
It is also said that Birthday celebrations began as a form of protection. It was a common belief that evil spirits were more dangerous to a person when he or she experienced a change in their daily life, such as turning a year older. To protect them from harm, friends and family would gather around the birthday person and bring good cheers, thoughts and wishes. Giving gifts brought even more good cheer to ward off the evil spirits. Noisemakers are thought to be used at parties as a way of scaring away the evil spirits. The birthday history custom of lighting candles originated with people believing that the gods lived in the sky and by lighting candles and torches they were sending a signal or prayer to the gods so they could be answered. When you blow out the candles and make a wish this is another way of sending a signal and a message.
Even though historians are certain that people have observed their birthdays for quite some time, there are very few records of such celebrations that still exist. The only ones documented in birthday history are those birthdays of kings, high-ranking nobility, and other important figures. Common people and especially children never celebrated their birth when the idea came about. This trend has been explained by a theory that nobility were the only people wealthy enough to throw such celebrations, and quite possibly were the only ones thought to be important enough to have been written about or remembered. Some historians believe these early birthday bashes resulted in the custom of wearing birthday “crowns” as time went on.
The Germans are given credit in birthday history for starting celebrations of children’s birthdays. These celebrations were called “kinderfeste”. The word “kinderfeste” is derived from two German words ‘kinder’ meaning children and ‘feste’ meaning festival or party.
A bit more of birthday history: The song “Happy Birthday to You” was composed by two sisters, Mildred and Patty Hill, in 1893, but nobody really paid much attention to it until the original words “Good Morning to You” were changed to “Happy Birthday to You”, words that are sung in virtually every home across the world at least once during the year.
Happy Birthday baby!! Here’s to celebrating you. 🙂
In the sick tank
So worried about my babygirl, she woke up sick again yesterday with flu-like symptoms. She went to the doc, who informed her she didn’t have the flu or strep, just a bad virus with flu-like symptoms. So I’m on the way to work this morning when my phone rings. It’s her, in tears and can’t even hardly talk. Apparently, she says, she’s been misdiagnosed because she has this huge lump in her throat and can barely swallow. She has constant chills associated with fever. We’re trying to get her back into the doc this morning, umm strike that – she WILL get back in there this morning.
Just made the call and got her in around 11 today. You never stop worrying about your kids no matter how old they are, and wishing the illness upon yourself instead. God, the worst was last March when she had her wisdom teeth removed and the oral surgeon didn’t administer the proper amount of novacaine. She came out of the anesthesia in screaming pain. It took several hours to finally get the pain meds to kick in, and by that time she had exhausted herself into pretty much passing out. Which she did actually pass out once in the bathroom, thankfully her father was standing behind her at the time and caught her when she fell backwards. Her Dad and I both shed tears for the kid that day. I can only imagine what parents of kids with serious illnesses must go through, having to watch their kids suffer.
There are constant blessings all around us. One has only to look around to see them.
Update:
She just got out of the doctor and was very pleased with the doctor she saw today. This man is actually one of the top Internal Medicine MD’s in our entire state, he makes the list every year – I’ve seen him many times in the past myself. Sure enough, there is an infection going on in her throat as well as tonsillitis. He mandated antibiotics for her illness (wonder why the doctor yesterday couldn’t have done that??). Even though she was told yesterday that she didn’t have a fever (she has been really concerned about the chills) he assured her that she did, just most likely wasn’t registering because everyone’s average body temp is on a different scale. Thank goodness we still have a few people out there who know what they’re doing when it comes to our health. I shudder to think of what we’ll be enduring soon if we get pushed into public healthcare.
A Simple Life?
For over a year now I’ve been taking my showers in the evening in lieu of early morning showers. I’ve been told by more than a few people, ‘Oh I just can’t do that! I simply have to have my showers in the morning.’ I used to think the same thing. But no, you don’t have to.
Certain things just don’t matter as much to me anymore. A fanciful outfit. Things that match, ha! So I’ve finally come to the realization that I’m cutting certain things out of my life, bit by bit, in order to simplify it. This is a true sign of getting older.
I’ve carried a ‘black bag’ to work every single day for almost 20 years. That bag contains my dayplanner as well as a portfolio and pad, and a few other odds and ends. If I need to print out anything at work, I’ll stick it in my black bag for transport, you get the drift. Guess you could call the ole’ black bag a ‘work purse’. Well, not only have I yet to refill my day planner for the year 2010 (okay the refills are over $20 and I’m still trying to justify the expense) but I haven’t carried my bag to work since the new year started. All the other things I’ve cut out or simplified don’t bother me. But the black bag and planner thing do. I’ve written in a dayplanner for many years, just like carrying the black bag. It may be considered an old-fashioned thing to do in the current day and time. Still though, I like being organized and quite frankly, if I don’t write things down, well they just don’t get done. I’m finding myself littered with sticky notes – notes in my purse, on my wallet, and on my computer. Hell there’s even a note on my bathroom mirror. Gotta do better in this area and score myself a refill on my dayplanner. And, get the ole’ black bag out again.
Just this weekend I traded in my big hair of the 80’s for a sleeker, shorter simpler style. That’s gonna take some getting used to. There’s a part of this that just doesn’t make sense to me though. With the simpler hairstyle, I’ve gone from 10 minutes of styling to what now is 30 minutes or more. I’ve seriously gotta work on shaving that time down.
Simplify my life. The phrase itself has always reminded me of the movie Steel Magnolias, when Shelby goes for the shorter simpler haircut upon learning of her illness. I can’t help but think of all of the women in the film, actually. Every single woman depicted in that movie had survived a curve ball that life so often throws. Don’t worry, I’ll save that for another blog.
When I finally realized what I was unintentionally doing, it almost hit me like a ton of bricks. In a way, it was almost disparaging to me. It’s funny how our mind and body ‘knows’ it’s own timeclock – and when it’s time to start slowing things down, or simplifying things in your life. Guess it’s true, there’s no turning your back on Father Time.
Resolution perception
During my recent trip to the beach, I heard a very good commentary on television about New Years resolutions. This was on some sports show on ESPN and the guy was a radio commentator. I didn’t pay enough attention to know who he is, or I else would give him credit for inspiring me to write this.
He initially caught my attention with the next few comments.
‘People are always worrying about what they’re gonna drop or eliminate from their lives for their New Year resolution. Why is this? Why do people think they have to completely cut out a habit or feature from their lives in order to improve it? Or, quit something? Now, the quitting smoking I can understand. But as for the rest….’
‘Instead, why not add something to your life, to that which already exists? Improve on it. Instead of quitting drinking, start drinking a finer wine. Add something. In your venture to lose weight, assign the newly devoted workout time to also become family time. Take your family with you and use this time to everyone’s advantage.’
This hit me like a ton of bricks. I could sit here right now and incorporate this with my own resolutions. We’re ultimately so concerned with the elimination of certain things, habits, features, etc. that we usually only see one path to take to accomplish our goals. Maybe enhancing the things we want to eliminate IS the way to go. Maybe, just maybe – there’s a chance of this working. Maybe there really IS more than one way of “getting there”.
The ripened years
I was listening to the radio on the way to work this morning, and the topic of age came up. Apparently there’s been a study done to determine ‘the best age’ to be. The little wheels in my head started spinning and for whatever reason, the number 28 popped up. The actual result was 46.
It was explained that 46 is the ‘Gateway to the Golden Years’. Well, that philosophy in itself kinda turns me off. I mean, I know the golden years are gonna happen, but I honestly don’t know of anyone who looks forward to them. Furthermore, it certainly wouldn’t top my list of explanations why 46 would be ‘the best age’. Anyway, they went on to say that 46 is the time in life when one seems to be most settled – usually having a loving spouse and children (yes they really said this), a house, and a good career. In conclusion, persons of this age are overall the most financially stable or content.
Well. As the old song by Meatloaf goes – Two outta Three ain’t bad. (Cough-cough)…in my case, two outta five. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful as hell for those two outta five.
In any case, the above interpretation at least shines a different light on how I feel about the current age I’m at. Although it’s not gonna make me anticipate my ‘golden years’ any more, I think it’ll at least make me more grateful for the present. And, I did get a chuckle or two out of writing this blog. 🙂
Lucid Delusions
More dreams last night. But bad ones, bad bad. I’ll detail the worst one.
A good friend of mine’s husband was accidentally ran over by a car. My daughter had driven the car that took him down. She didn’t know she’d hit anyone and freaked out when she was told. The guy, to which I’ll give a fictitious name of Steve, had a few people standing over him. Those people were traumatized by what Steve looked like, and quickly moved away from him.
Steve was left all alone laying on what had now turned into a dirt road in my dream. Not even thinking about it, I ran up to him and knelt down beside him. It quickly hit me what was so traumatizing about his appearance. The entire left side of his head was missing. He was obviously in shock and I realized he would be expiring soon. He was still attempting to get up and was speaking in words that couldn’t be understood. I did my best at making his last few moments as calm as possible, holding him and cradling his head in my arms – and the blood, my God all that blood. It didn’t matter to me though, what was of utmost importance was him having someone there with him during those last few moments of his life.
Flash-forward to another scene in the dream, where Steve was alive and walking around. He still was missing the large portion of his skull, though it had now healed. At least this provides a little consolation to an otherwise horrible Stephen King-flavored dream. I won’t even attempt to interpret this one.
Addendum:
Ironic as it may be, I just received this link in an email from my father-in-law, who doesn’t even know about my dream and does not read this blog. Dirt Roads
Dream weaving
I had the strangest set of dreams last night. If you’re thinking ‘oh no, not another one of those dream interpretation blogs’ you’re absolutely right on.
I dreamt I was outside, standing in front of what I believe to have been either a clothesline pole or some sort of large yard stake. A carefully constructed spider web was built on this, stretching from one end of the T all the way to the center. It’s hard to explain, but it was the thickest web I’ve ever seen. Using my forefinger and thumb I tried to pry it away, but it was so sticky and would not budge. It got stuck to my fingers a time or two, but I was never able to pry it from whatever it was adhered to. I remember looking constantly for the spider, anyone who knows me is well aware that I am terrified of spiders. But the spider wasn’t there, or at least never made an appearance.
From dreammoods.com
To see a web in your dream, represents your desire to control everything around you. Alternatively, it could suggest that you are being held back from fully expressing yourself. You may feel trapped and do not know what to do or where to go. The dream may also be symbolic of your social network of acquaintances on the world wide web.
This also got me to thinking about the Indian dream catchers. Could this dream have anything to do with those? I don’t believe so. Dream catchers have a woven web in the center – to catch and filter the bad dreams away from the child. And when the feathers moved while the child slept, the parents knew that beautiful dreams were entering his or her reality.
More often than not, a spiders web symbolizes responsibilities or something we feel caught up in. As the interpretation above states, it could express moments when you feel trapped, inhibited, or otherwise feel unable to move… as in a spiders web. I also feel it could possibly represent getting ‘spun up’ in a certain situation. An overall broader analogy could signify entanglement and the general complexities of life.
I do pay close attention to my dreams, suffice it to say that it’s actually saved my ass a time or two. I read somewhere that dreaming is a vital function of life. Although I’m unsure of the authenticity of that statement – I believe they do serve some sort of purpose, and occur for a reason.
Photo courtesy of vladstudio.com
Regroup thyself
Well I was up very early again this morning. The sun’s rays shining through the blinds made it too inviting to hang out in a bed.
Upon arriving home yesterday, the only thing on my agenda was to take a nap. A long one. Instead, from out of nowhere came this burst of, shall I say it… could it really be… Energy?? Boy, has it been a long time since that’s happened. Usually when a burst of energy hits it’s due to an event that’s triggered it. In any case, I took full advantage of my little adrenaline gift.
My little Camille was SO glad to see me. You see, it’s Sunday morning now and she’s still attached at my hip. She literally won’t let me out of her sight – from room to room, she’s there. And so vocal, I really wish I knew what she was trying to communicate to me. As in previous trips I’ve taken, she hopped on top of my travel bag and looked up at me as if to say “You’re not goin’ nowhere else mama, unless I go with ya.”
I got busy with unpacking, which is such an easy chore for me. What takes me a whole day to pack I can unpack and reorganize in 10 minutes flat or less, cosmetics and toiletries included. Plus, I needed to get my bag tucked away in the closet since Camille associates it with me leaving (I’m serious). From there, I got a few loads of laundry started, stripped the bed and put clean sheets on it, and cleaned my bathroom including tub and shower curtain. I know I said this about sweatpants yesterday, but whoever invented Clorox Cleanup with Bleach is a God. I basically use it for all my cleaning, and it works. I could be a spokesperson.
Christmas tree and decorations still out. Oh no, I can’t have that. Now this is something I always dread, although, like unpacking, it’s much easier than the actual decorating. I got everything packed back up and placed in the utility room until that time rolls around again in about 300 some-odd days. But that’s not something I’m gonna think about tomorrow or any other time soon.
I’d laid meat out in the fridge last night knowing I was going to cook my infamous chili. Before I’d even bothered to take a look at myself in the mirror this morning, I was chopping onions, peppers, garlic and the like. Chili is one thing I’m good at, no questions asked. I love making use of the various ingredients, with the end result all coming together in an ever-so-tasteful hot blend, oh yes, Hot. A friend and I were talking this morning about having ones chili hot enough. She told me of when she was at the beach and brought her son back some hot sauce called ‘Ass Blasters’. She said it came packaged in a little wooden outhouse box. Needless to say, I’m still cracking up over that one!
With the thermometer outside right now stuck at a mere 23º F, I believe this today to be a stay-inside, maybe movie, maybe book, but definitely hot chili and lovin’ on my furbaby day. 🙂
New Year, New Beginnings
2009 – a colorful year it’s been for me. In addition to my love for the ocean, there’s actually a hidden reason behind why I chose my particular banner picture, which I pasted a copy of below.
Color.
Those who know me know that my ‘word of the year’ chosen to represent 2008 was Monumental. 2008 was my year of change, a change that required an extreme strength and perseverance – the type of strength I thought never could exist in me. For this reason I believe the word Monumental to be ever so fitting for that year.
I find it just as fitting to associate the word Colorful with my year of 2009. In this little rainbow prismatic year of mine, I’ve basically created a complete series of making mistakes and learning from them. But never mind the mistakes I’ve made, or the repercussions from them – I still have to look back and smile, at all of it. I’ve come to realize how I’ve grown and have been made a better person now, by just having been associated with some new people that came in and out of my life.
I look at it this way. 2008, the last half of it anyway, started out as a shockwave. Fast-forward to sorrow, self-pity, and finally moving into that godforsaken lonely empty feeling. As I moved into 2009, the search was on. For what… I didn’t know. I was however reaching out for something, with arms wide open. I found that, like a butterfly who had just discovered her wings, the world was mine for the taking. The territory left unchartered was endless. So many opportunities, and so much lost time. Nope – the objects I landed on weren’t always in my best interest. I’ve taken much from these experiences though – through weathering the storms and learning some pretty hard lessons. I’ve found that it’s how we react and learn from our mistakes that will determine our success in life, or lack of it.
Hmm. Can’t help but wonder what my word of 2010 will be.
Banner picture for 2009
My first day of Winter is colored Amber
Ever since I can remember, the color amber has signified Winter to me. Being an earth-toned color loving person, it’s no wonder that it has become a favorite of mine. But it’s more than just a color to me – it’s a compilation of the senses.
The Sight. A pale yellow, sometimes reddish or brownish, translucent. The ambient glow of firelit nights…
The Smell. Breads baking. Perfumes are even named after amber, I have one. The aroma always represents the essence of winter.
The Taste. Peanut butter cookies. Cinnamon-banana bread.
The Touch. A loved ones caress. Being wrapped tight in their arms while giving sweet kisses.
The Sound. The quietness of snow falling. The gentle popping and crackling of a fire.
I need only to close my eyes to avert my imagery over to a warm winter night in front of a fireplace, snow falling outside – to sense amber. To become conscious of my senses… and of all that exists around me that is beautiful in Winter.
Welcome Winter… 3 days early
Snow all around us. Well, not here – I seem to sport an invisible shield that prohibits any snow from landing within 50 miles of me. But, pretty much all the areas to the north and west of us did get it… ALOT of it.
My bf and his brother took off yesterday morning to pick up their nephew from WCU and bring him home for the long Christmas break. Needless to say they got stuck up there in the mountains. They were lucky enough to get a hotel room. I say lucky because his local news stated that literally thousands of people were stranded, and most of the lodging is now full. Last time we talked, the accumulation had reached 13 inches, and snow was still coming down. He has high hopes of coming home today, but unless they open that main highway back up, I’m afraid they’re gonna be disappointed.
One thing I found really funny about the situation had to do with his brother. Of course I won’t mention any names, but I find it so hilarious that I do have to include it…
Brother J spent the night with him so they could leave early that next morning for the trip up. Since he arrived at his house nearing bedtime, he was already dressed for bed (wearing his pajamas). I was talking to my bf last night, and asked if everybody was warm, had taken their coats, had food to eat, etc. – and couldn’t help but joke about brother J, saying I hoped he’d brought those pajamas with him. Come to find out, Bro J decided to wear the pj’s on the trip, thinking they weren’t gonna be needing to get out anyway. He got stranded in the mountains with pajamas as his main articles of clothing. On the bright side, he did think to take a pair of boots. LMAO
Hell I can’t really say anything – I recently took a trip up to a snowy set of mountains with flip-flops as my only footwear.
Let it snow… please?
Snow is in the forecast later today. Possibly.
It would be a good time for it, I think, although I know there are plenty out there that would beg to differ with me. It’s a Friday, we could leave early from work and have the whole weekend with which to play and recoup. Everyone here at work, boss included, is stoked about the possibility. Knowing that we both like to sling our cars around when it snows, my boss is even joking about which of us will land the best doughnut in the parking lot.
I remember as a kid (back when it used to snow every single winter) the snow days were magical to me. I’d grab a friend or two and head out on the journey. Every place transformed into someplace new and enchanting when a fresh blanket of snow fell! We’d take our lunch and snacks with us when we headed out, because of course everything tasted better in snowland. The forest looked magical – the beautiful limbs and trees resembled something out of a storybook. The streams and brooks appeared as though they came right off a painting, so clean and crisp. The hills we would find were enormous, and more treacherous than they could ever be when they were ‘snowless’. The entire day was a true adventure, and we always made it last as long as we could, often not returning until dusk. I rode past one of those hills about a year ago. It was so little, I couldn’t believe it. I found myself wondering if it had eroded. 🙂
I hope those memories never leave me.
Christmas pasts
No, I didn’t spell it wrong, or mis-phrase it. The way it reads just makes more sense to me. Not Christmases, or Christmases past. But rather the many ‘pasts‘ that stick out in my mind whenever I think of Christmas.
Barringer. A brand new pair of shiny black patent leather lace-up boots from my uncle and aunt. Came all the way up to my knees, they did. I laced ’em up right there on the couch as soon as I unwrapped them, my family laughing while my uncle videotaped me. Back then, these videos landed on movie reels. That same year in ’73 I got a jewelry box slammed full of jewelry…. I felt like a princess with all that bling. A princess with mega bling and shiny black boots. I didn’t know it at the time, but the pattern of my taste in life was forming, even then.
Collingwood. Mom and Mammaw had both worked that Christmas eve. Still in her uniform, Mammaw was so exhausted that she laid down in the floor right underneath that Christmas tree. My uncle, Mom’s youngest brother, trotted in with many bags and a huge stuffed dog that was taller than me. That dog ended up being mine, it was too big to wrap. Every year he would go out on Christmas eve and to do his Christmas shopping, hauling the load in at the last minute for Mom and Mammaw to wrap up. That night, Mom laid down with me to get me to sleep so that Santa could come. She fell asleep with me, and Mammaw decided to let her sleep. Later that night, through the bedroom window, I saw my Mammaw and uncle dragging a new bike in for me – to Bon, from Santa. 🙂
Old Dowd. A box FULL of new books. Not any old box – I’m talking a box of epic proportions. There must’ve been 40-50 new books in that one box. The Little House on the Prairie collection, several Tom Sawyer adventures, Little Women, and so many more that I can’t remember. I recall sleeping with some of those books that night, the smell of fresh new books was intoxicating. It was an awesome gift that I enjoyed for many years, from my loving Mama.
Hartford. Ham and lots of goodies to eat. Great uncle J talking with no one listening. My first pair of designer jeans, Calvin Klein himself embroidered on the rear pocket. They were too small and had to be exchanged later, but it was official – I was now cool. Maybe not in my peers eyes, but definitely in my own! Archie, the family dog, gets to experience his once-a-year visit inside the house – much resembling the running of the bulls with the addition of a red Christmas bow stuck to his head.
Ever notice the memories of your childhood Christmas pasts usually involve the gifts you received? The ones that made the biggest impact on you often stick in your memory like glue.
Sloan. My Mother’s boyfriend. I wasn’t so sure about this guy…. didn’t think his intentions were quite up to par with what I knew she deserved. Besides, who did he think he was trying to horn in on our family time? I go my own way, where I want, when I want. Hell I just moved back in from being gone for almost a year, and this guy’s practically running the show. Then again, my Mammaw seems to like him. Mammaw’s a pretty good judge of character, and she’s rarely wrong. Hmm, he gave me a stereo for Christmas. This guy may not be all bad. I’ll just have to keep my eye on him.
Fort Mill. My precious little baby girl made out like a bandit, and I’m so glad. Christmas is different now, somehow… I can’t quite put my finger on why, but know enough to realize it involves the newest part of me – my baby daughter. So THIS is why they say that children make Christmas. I have a family of my own now, added to my existing family, plus my new extended family – that of my husbands. Wow, this holds promise of getting a bit hectic. But hey, that’s Christmas! Oh, and that boyfriend of Mom’s? He’s now my stepdaddy, and pawpaw to my baby girl. And a fine job he’s doing at both.
Abbey/Village Lake. Blessed Christmases. Always blessed, always getting way more than we deserve. It’s not necessarily gifts that stick out in my mind now, rather it’s the multitude of bounties our families bestow upon us during Christmas that seems to always catch us up. We all truly have an abundance, thanks given to our families and God. Okay, there is one time around this era where gifts really do stick out. That would be the Christmas when my husband accidentally threw all his gifts away.
Scarlet. Mammaw’s sick. Really sick. She insisted on getting through Christmas without a hospital visit, but this was a bad idea. She can barely breathe, both her face and body are really swollen. Congestive heart failure is what it ends up being – little did we know then. Fast forward to another Christmas. Pawpaw isn’t feeling well. He’s trying to deal, but running a fever, thinks it’s the flu. It might’ve been the flu then. But it wasn’t the flu that caused his heart to fail in front of us two weeks later.
Poplar Forest. New house, and so proud to have Christmas here. Much has changed in past years, we have two who are no longer with us and are reminded of that pain especially during the holidays. Baby girl is continuing to grow into a fine young lady – downside of this is gifts are getting much harder to pick for her. My most memorable gift – my wedding ring set that my husband had reset from yellow into white gold, given to me on Christmas eve. Little did either of us know then of what was to come in the near future.
Hamilton’s Harbor. I have only one Christmas here, so far – but in a couple of weeks I’ll have two, and with that more memories made. The one Christmas here consisted mainly of my past memories. This can be a good thing, as well as being detrimental – but I have to remember that every single thing we’ve experienced and endured in our lives shapes the person we are today. You either learn and grow… or you let it defeat you. Things change, life changes, and we must go on.
‘God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.’ ~James Matthew Barrie, Scottish dramatist & novelist; best known as the creator of Peter Pan
Good morning, deer
This year I’m having even more trouble getting into Christmas than last year, and that’s saying a lot. The push to get myself started shopping yesterday ran into about 4 in the afternoon. Needless to say, the stores were jammed. I could swear that this one crying child followed me literally everywhere I went. ‘Tis the season.
By the time I got home I was, um, feeling my age. I just don’t remember being so tired after shopping last year. I excused it by reminding myself that I don’t go out and shop for long lengths of time regularly anyway, that this was a ‘shock to the ole body’. Shock the monkey.
Still, I’m constantly reminded of the fact that Christmas is over commercialized. This makes it tougher by the year, for me anyway, to ‘get into’ the season. Just for once I’d like to plan a trip to leave on Christmas Day or even New Years and just get the hell outta Dodge for a couple days. No responsibilities, just leave it all behind. I know a couple of people who do this. One year I’ll do it myself….
I just went by the hallway window at work where five very graceful deer stood grazing on the front lawn. I stood motionless (for a second anyway) before running back for my camera. I returned with camera in one hand, cam-phone in the other – and right away notice that they’re onto me. All five were staring straight at me – it was so funny looking, an intoxicating moment to have an entire herd of wildlife looking straight at you. I managed to get a shot of two with my regular camera, but not the entire pack (sad face). I’ll post it when I get home to my cord. The deer just made my day, quite possibly my entire week. 🙂
I’ll letcha know on that.
Two of the five
Life of Bon 
Recent Comments