Ever have a place you’ve visited just stick with you – certain sights and events bringing the place fresh back into focus? As I crossed the sunrise-laden bridge this morning, I was reminded again of a visit a couple of years ago to a little portside town in Virginia – to a little town called Urbanna.
I think about this place every time I see a sunrise. I think about it every time I pass over the river on the way to work. I think about it most every time I lay my eyes on a boat. Sometimes I consider this a burden and wish it to be lifted from me; to regain the ability of forming my own thoughts and memories from such sights. It doesn’t seem meant to be, though – and this morning was no exception.
Urbanna is located on Virginia’s middle peninsula on the Rappahannock River, which eventually spills into the beautiful and majestic Chesapeake Bay. This historic town was originally established as a port for the shipment of tobacco to England. The old tobacco warehouse built in 1766 is listed on the National Register of Historic Places and serves today as the Visitors Center. This warehouse is located on Virginia Street, which ironically enough is one of my favorite streets there.
The town itself is as friendly as the day is long, and the locals seem to go out of their way to please you. They are proud of their towns history and the fact that aside from the annual Oyster Festival which attracts 70,000 each November, Urbanna is still able to maintain that hometown feel. As you walk through town, it’s almost as though nothing at all has changed since the fifties. The in-town drugstore still has a fully-operational diner inside, complete with swivel-seat barstools. Even the streets seem to want to tell you their story as you stroll down them.
I learned being rocked to sleep by the waves is one of my most favorite things, as well as waking up the next morning to the sunrise over the water. I ended up adapting to that little sailboat so quickly it about made my own head spin. Within a day I’d perfected my way around atop and below the boat – finding out exactly what I could hang onto and what I couldn’t, and what I could swing from and what I couldn’t. 🙂
I was sad to learn of the vineyard I visited closing down in 2010, White Fences Winery and Vineyards. What a nice drive over the bridge where you can see the Rappahannock River merging with the Chesapeake Bay. Unlike some local wineries, White Fences had acres and acres of vineyards to walk. The massive greenery would hold your imagination captive for as long as you would allow it.
The town slogan, as it appears on main page of their very well-put-together website:
“Turn off the main road. Or cruise up the Rappahannock River from the Chesapeake Bay. To the slightly off the beaten track tidewater town of Urbanna,Virginia. Home of Virginia’s official oyster festival, more boats than folks and laid back innkeepers, shopkeepers, chefs and townspeople who’ll help you shuck your stress and slip into an island state of mind.”
Yep… in this case, I’d say the city slogan fits quite well.
My friend Kim over at What Now? It’s a Matter of Inflection… wrote a very nice post yesterday about how much positive energy she’s gotten out of facebook. Keeping up with friends and family updates on facebook does seem to be of the ‘norm’ nowadays. At the risk of looking like a copycat, I’ve got to run with a prime example that coincides closely with her own post.
I have a
rut routine in the morning. First I go straight for my little 7-day container of medicine, pretty much consisting of bp meds and vitamins, scoring either a diet coke or diet Dr. Pepper to down them. Then I’ll grab my iPhone, where I’ll quickly graze facebook and twitter to get any up-to-date news and make sure nobody died (seriously, I’ve found this kind of stuff out on there before). I’ve found I don’t need any rss feed on other news channels, since anything newsworthy will appear on either of these two social networks.
C’mon Bon… what’s your point??
Soooo – I wake up this morning to a facebook post by my 23-year old daughter that reads, “I hate hospitals. Ewwww.” Posted at approximately 0327 hours.
Instant panic. Of course, none of the comments posted afterward allude to what actually happened, which is par for the course. My fingers couldn’t text her fast enough this morning.
Why are you texting her, Bon – why not just call her? This is important, after all!!
Today’s generation of children do not answer their cell phone. Additionally, do not bother leaving them a voicemail. If you do prefer to waste your precious time leaving a voicemail, know that it will sit all alone in it’s inbox for years until tumbleweeds begin to float past it. Our kids today only want a written (short) text which they may respond to AT. THEIR. LEISURE. If you know all this beforehand, it’ll save you a lot of time and trouble. Unfortunately since I’m a first-generation parent of the current generation of kids – I’ve had to learn it all the hard way.
I didn’t receive any reply from my daughter until just now, 1104 hours in the morning. The golden text just arrived telling me she is fine, and it was her friend who had cut his hand wide open. While cutting an apple. At three in the morning. Of course, her phone died while waiting 4 hours in the ER, and since she didn’t go to bed until this morning she couldn’t hear Mum’s text! At least now I can finally
sigh very loudly breathe easier knowing that she’s okay. You never stop worrying about your kids. I guess it’ll be the same at any age, 23 or 53.
In closing, I guess Kim and I won’t be closing down our facebook accounts anytime soon! I hope everyone out there enjoys a wonderful weekend. 🙂
I was recently told that a friend of mine’s father now tells him he loves him before they hang up. It comes at a time later in life for him, but I realize how much it must mean to finally hear his father say I love you after all these years. It’s definitely better late than never.
I tell my close friends I love you before we part ways or hang up. I tell my mother and father I love you every night before we end the call. Of course, I tell Keith I love you more times per day than I care to count. I tell my beloved little Camille I love you before I leave her to go to work.
It’s three simple words that mean so very much. It feels good to say them, and it gives the recipient a feeling of such worth. If you feel it, it’s okay to say it. If it feels awkward that first time, no worries – that’ll fade quickly.
Can you say it too much or too often? Is it ever overused? I don’t believe so. Nah – not at all.
Feels like it’s been ages since I’ve posted anything. I hope everyone had a safe and memorable Fourth of July holiday!
Since I moved, I’m rarely (if ever) on the computer – I’d probably do fine without one. Things are just so interesting outside, I want to stay out there. Even though it’s hot, the beautiful outdoors continue to beckon us. I’m so thankful for the peaceful surrounding area, which feels as soothing as warm chicken soup on a cold winter day. I’m finding myself wishing for this summer to last forever – for the flowers to continue growing, for the frogs, butterflies and fireflies to live twice as long as normal, for the hummingbirds to not have to fly south this year. Not asking for very much, am I?
I love Independence Day, but always seem to associate it with summer being ‘half over’. I wish I didn’t do that, but the older you get the harder becomes to change your way of thinking. I did witness the best fireworks show I have ever seen in my life, right here in the city of Gastonia. They put on a full twenty-minute long show in center-city, even the finale was twice as long as usual. This city seems to have stepped up their game! We both thought it worth the wait of a couple hours for that good spot. People-watching was hilarity at it’s best even if fireworks weren’t involved, but we tend to be a little ruthless in that area. Trust me when I say I have stories.
My daughter came over for a swim yesterday, and brought her newest toy with her – a camera that can snap pics as far as 20 feet underwater. She originally bought it for her cruise in September, and we were glad for the opportunity to play subjects. It works great, and we had a blast with it! Now if only I can figure out a way to stow away in one of her suitcases come September…
Nothing has ever matched all the freedom and happiness this summer has brought me so far. I’m so very grateful for all the opportunities in life that have been presented to me, as well for the ever-blessed time in my life that I met Keith. A real and genuine person is a rare find these days. If a person is lucky enough to find that precious gem – hopefully they’re smart enough to hold tight those qualities and traits, and cherish the person with their whole heart. Because they deserve nothing less than a whole heart.
I’d like to eventually have/make more time to spend on reading other’s blogs. It’s something I really enjoy, particularly the ones of those who take their own precious time to comment on mine. With all the stuff I’ve had going on with moving, work and the likes of everything else, my hope is to get settled in soon and do just that – consistently. I’m amazed at the talent that each of you have – whether it be through writing, arts, or a combination of both. It inspires my own desire to do better. I thank each of you for that.
In updating my blog roll tonight, once again I had heavy thoughts of a certain individual in our blogging world. This is someone that I miss very much – known as Grown Man (as self-referred, GM). It’s for this reason I chose to profile Grown Man in this post today. If you’ve never visited his blog, why not hop on over and read a few excerpts. Click the ‘list’ link for more options. I can guarantee you’ll have to break yourself away from it.
Grown Man has not posted since November of 2010. Prior to that, his fairly frequent posts were eloquent, vivacious and packed full of wisdom. Although geared mainly towards the male genre, his content inspired males and females alike. His own hilarity paired with
common sense insight on the male psyche made for some darn good reading and entertainment… not to mention education. He remained ever-kind in his replies, to which he always gave. I’ve always been a sucker for that kindness trait. The love he had for his wife was evident, not exactly spelled out – rather something that was apparent between the lines. I deeply respect his writing style.
I do worry about what may have happened to him, at the risk of sounding silly. Did he meet a dreadful fate… or did he abandon it for a chance of a lifetime, moving on to a bigger and better thing? I’ve googled to no avail to find out what might have happened, having noticed his twitter feed has also been abandoned. He had the potential to be HUGE, and was already getting there fast. Over 188K hits with less than 80 entries – this thing grew pretty quick, my friends. It’s obvious by reading the comments on his last post that his readers really miss him.
I’ll continue to have Grown Man appear on my blogroll because I prefer his legacy to live on, even if not ongoing. I agree with one of the last commenters who stated, appropriately: We miss you, Grown Man.
Footnote: Even my Keith enjoyed reading GM’s posts, and he’s not usually into reading blogs unless he’s coerced into reading mine, cough-cough. 🙂
How I’ve missed my little blog – both reading others and writing them. Things have been extremely busy my way with moving, and I can’t wait to reaccustom myself to a more permanent schedule once again. I thought it would make everything easier having 2+ months to pack, get everything out and clean… but it seems as though I’ve been going back and forth now for way longer than I should! I’m finally convinced doing it all in one day is the way to go.
All weekend we worked over at my place and now, thankfully I can say I’m pretty much done. I still have to get the washer/dryer out to store for my daughter and find a home for my couch. K has worked his rear off the entire time, and cleaning should now be a cinch since the place is now empty! I did happen across a most precious commodity (ahem) for my cat Camille, that made her very very happy.
Meet my mousse! (Mousse because Mademoiselle Camille has always pronounced the word in French.) The Little Girl has been reunited with her long-lost BFF who has been MIA for at least a year and a half. Maybe longer. How old is this thing, you ask? Oh, I realize it looks like it was resurrected from the caveman era. But to Cam… it’s a thing of sheer beauty. A huge basket full of toys is no match for this one item sent straight from Heaven. She’s carrying her baby around again while talking, then dropping it for daddy to play fetch. She is one Happy Girl.
A view of the front of Keith’s. Note: it now comes complete with it’s own set of nightlites located in bottom left window…
I actually went to type a blog out last night, and in addition to all the nerve-wracking hustle and bustle of moving noticed my mouse (MY mouse, one S) was all but operable. I had to go out and purchase another one after work today. I guess I’ve been behind-the-times until now, because I’ve always had a corded mouse. At last I made the ‘jump’ and opted (pardon the pun) for a ‘new improved one’. That is, one that is non-corded.
Left: old one… Right: new-improved (non-corded) one. My hand hardly knows what to do with something so very small in comparison – but I’m finding it ever-functional.
So who gets the points on the cat’s eyes being covered up??
After more storms whisked through the south the night before last, the current estimated time of power restoration has been moved from 5pm last night to 5pm tonight. What’s up with the south and all these destructive storms this year? The thunder, lightning, wind and rain of this storm out-did all other storms so far. Even the hailstorm didn’t have these kind of damaging winds and lightning… it only pounded things into oblivion. We’re supposed to get more storms through Tuesday, so I guess it’s time to batten down the hatches.
Thank goodness I still have my apartment, albeit one with no bed. It does still have a/c (a must in the south in May) and cable tv (a must since it was Survivor night and I’ve never missed an episode). With these two amenities calling us, Keith packed up a few things and our spoiled kitty Camille, and met me over at my apartment. He even thought to bring my bp meds – whatta guy that man is. 🙂
I must admit that I was a little sad I’d unknowingly spend my last night in my apartment last Thursday night. We’d decided to carry my bed over on a whim last Sunday, meaning there was no ‘reflection time’ assigned to my last night spent there. This power outage was a hidden blessing. I found it only befitting that I got to spend just one more night there, with both my man and my little animal. So the palette on the floor did just fine.
My friend Shawn over at Happy Publishing posted this today. Although it’s been around a while, it’s a few great reminders of how to make the world a little more livable. I found it more than worthy of a repost.
- Do not contradict people, even if you are sure you are right.
- Do not be inquisitive about the affairs of even your most intimate friend.
- Do not underrate anything because you do not possess it.
- Do not believe all the evil you hear.
- Do not repeat gossip, even if it does interest a crowd.
- Do not jeer at anyone’s religious belief.
- Learn to hide your aches and pains under a pleasant smile; few care whether you have an earache, headache, or rheumatism.
- Learn to attend to your own business – a very important point.
- Do not try to be anything else but a gentleman or a lady; and that means one who has consideration for the whole world, and all races.
I hope all the mothers out there had a fantastic Mother’s Day weekend! Saturday night we took both of our mothers out to eat (they finally got to meet each other, yay!). Sunday, my daughter took me out to lunch then drove me about an hour down the road to Old Stone Winery. There we enjoyed a wine tasting then some down time on the patio which overlooked the vineyards. I fell in love with the peach wine, of which she bought me a bottle to enjoy later. 🙂
Once back in town, Keith met me over at my place and we gave our best attempt at getting my bed to his house. My mattress is one of the heaviest ever made, I’m convinced of it. As far as help goes, unfortunately I was no good to him so we ended up enlisting help from a fellow apartment-dweller. Many thanks again to a good samaritan! Since my bed’s now a permanent resident of a spare room at Keith’s house, I am as well. There’s still much to do before the final move when I rent the truck, but since I pass right by there on the way ‘home’ at least it’s convenient to be there every day to pack.
It’s now nineteen miles one way to work. I realize some people drive much further than that, but it’s still a big difference from what I’m used to. From the angle I’m seeing it, it averages about two gallons of gas per day. Ugh. But, I knew this beforehand.
K’s new pool liner was installed yesterday! It’s gonna be a good summer…
This past weekend was one of the most awesomely relaxing weekends in a long time. Did I mention it was a three-dayer? It started Thursday night (I had taken Friday off for the Royal Wedding). Keith had to drag my a** out of bed at 4am to see it – honestly I would’ve missed it if he hadn’t. It was my first attempt at a ‘live-tweet’ for an event such as this… I realize this is very minute to most people, but I can reflect back on it myself and smile. That’s the big thing for me – the memories.
Watched a couple movies recommended by a friend this weekend, both older but awesome.Red Dawn with Patrick Swayze and Charlie Sheen, and Double Jeopardy with Ashley Judd and Tommy Lee Jones. I can’t say I was blown away by Red Dawn, primarily because it was compared to Shawshank Redemption, which I thought it not even close. Shawshank is EPIC and an all-time fave of mine. But Double Jeopardy – just wow. I could definitely watch that one again.
Saturday we bought some flowers and such for the yard, and spent a good bit of time arranging and planting them. We have a couple of ferns hanging from the porch now and a gorgeous Calibrachoa hanging basket (the flowers look like vibrant mini-petunias). My bright idea was to make a little flower bed surrounding the mailbox at the end of the yard, and we decided on begonias for this. It’s sparse right now, but it’ll grow… Keith’s sister even joked that it must look like a girl is living here now. 🙂
Today there was finally a televised NYY game on – they’re very rare. After a couple of hours of sun, we both opted for a late-afternoon nappiepoo game-front. I love afternoon naps. If the opportunity would present itself a little more often, trust me I would partake. There’s just nothing better – well, almost nothing better.
Finally, today K and I opened a forgotten carton of strawberries we’d gotten at the store Friday… and noticed a label that read “Limited Edition – Fresh California Strawberries”. Being that I’m very attentive to labels, it caught my attention. Limited Edition, seriously? Strawberries? Upon washing, slicing, sprinkling with sugar and sampling, we were looking at each other with owl eyes and saying WTF? Those were the best strawberries I’ve ever had the pleasure of having in my mouth. (Taking note that I never even ate a strawberry until 2.75 years ago when my friend Lori and her son Matt fed me one at a farmers market.) Still… earthshatteringly delectable; blogworthy for sure.
This back and forth stuff between my place and Keith’s is taking it’s toll on me. There’s so much to be done before I move! K suggested this weekend just going ahead and bringing my bed over (going in a middle room) this way I can’t go back there to sleep during the week. My reasoning for not doing this is I’ll never get packed if I’m not there at night to do it. Now – my mind is recalculating. I pass right by my place anyway to and from work, it might actually work better. I made the decision a week ago for Camille to reside with him instead of toting her back and forth – she’s had a year and a half of that and that’s enough. Hmmm. If I said the word, that gorgeous man would be right over with a truck to load up my bed sporting a big smile. So is it really that hard of a decision for me?
Oh yeah, and bin laden is dead. Supposedly. I’ll save all that for another time, another place… another blog.
Well, the big day has finally arrived! The Royal Wedding will take place in less than 24 hours. I must ask beforehand that you forgive the sarcastic undertone of this post. You see, for the past couple of weeks I’ve heard more than my share of negative comments and opinions about the Royal Wedding – in turn, this has propelled me into smartass-Bon mode (not good). Allow me to elaborate.
The original title of this post was “Asses that attempt to ruin Royal Weddings“. I have since changed it, but still thought it noteworthy. I didn’t change it because I no longer believe negative people to be asses… I changed it because I didn’t want the word to be in the same sentence as Royal Wedding. So there. (Negative people – that means you’re still an ass.)
Additionally, I will make it my mission to overuse the words Royal Wedding in this post. If this offends you, know that I find that awesome. Now, on to more talk about the Royal Wedding. Because I can.
Most of the posts I see are so very redundant. If you’re so bored and ‘over’ the Royal Wedding, must you use your precious time to talk about it? By doing this, aren’t you allowing even more ‘air time’ to the Royal Wedding? Here’s some food for thought: posting comments of how sick you are of the Royal Wedding translates into how very intriguing and appealing it must be to you. If you’re truly sick of the Royal Wedding, why not simply change channels or read on to something else? Or perhaps there’s something deeper going on than meets the eye, other than the Royal Wedding. (Hey, how am I doing on that overuse thing?)
Here’s my comparison: when the college ball games were all going on a few weeks back, that entire series of games seemed to last for about a year. I know for a fact that I’m not the only person who doesn’t follow or care for it. But I absolutely would not post on Twitter, FB, ABC News, etc.: “No one gives a s**t about college basketball!!” It would be ridiculous. Why? Because yes, people do exist that give a s**t about college basketball.
Well, so what? It’s my status or comment, and I’ll post what I want! Isn’t that the purpose of it all? Freedom of speech, baby – take it or leave it. I choose to take it. So back off.
Okay, yeah it IS your comment. As far as freedom of speech, I beg to differ – we do not have anything of the sort here in America. There’s only a handful of things we may blurt out without risk of offense to others. If we do say something inappropriate we get blasted for it, or even worse, sued. Freedom of speech, pfftthh – sore subject with me. I’ll save that for another post to be listed in the category The Angry American. Coming soon to a blog near you.
Okay Bon. So what’s your point? If it’s my post and I can write about what I want, and I want to write about how much I hate all the hype of the Royal Wedding, what the heck IS your point?
Here’s my bottom line. Very rarely do we the people get the opportunity to enjoy anything good on the news. Everything is terrorism, war and soldiers dying, missing people, rape, murder and catastrophic weather events. The Royal Wedding is a bright spot in the midst of a storm – dare I even say it brings a ray of light and hope to many. I realize that women tend to be more susceptible to swoon over a fairytale romance, but I also know of quite a few men who appreciate it too. Not swoon over it, mind you – but appreciate it. Who couldn’t use an extra serving of love?
I guess everyone’s got something to say about something – this just happens to be mine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to enjoy a fantastic Royal Wedding with the haters left scurrying behind me. Cheers!!
When I came into work yesterday, I found out a coworker had an ‘incident’ in the kitchen over the weekend for which he was awarded several severe burns. After a couple days of coworkers hounding him about possible infection, he’s finally making a trip to the doctor today. The large area on his arm appears to be third-degree.
The short story goes something like this. He left a pot heating on the stove filled with oil, no less – and walked upstairs and forgot about it until the smoke alarms started blaring. He ran back down to the kitchen and saw the flames, panicked, and threw a pail of water on the flames. Of course the water reacted much like gasoline when tossed on top of the grease fire, blowing the fire back at him. It severely burned the back of his forearm, his neck, and side of his face. He is extremely lucky to have gotten away with the burns he has, and that it wasn’t more severe.
In hindsight, he said he should have taken an extra second and stepped back to assess the situation. He stressed the importance to us of having a couple of extinguishers available, and checking the working condition of them regularly. It sure got me thinking – even after all the fire training we’ve had here at work, I can see me doing exactly what he did under duress. That is until now! When you come face to face with the results of a poor decision like that, it really packs a punch in the ole’ kisser.
In an emergency situation, it’s all too easy to make that snap decision you’ll regret – something I think we can compare to life itself. I know one thing, I don’t think I’ll be throwing water on a grease fire anytime soon.
The following information gathered via http://www.ehow.com
How to Put Out a Grease Fire
Don’t be caught unprepared when cooking in the kitchen. If you are working with grease or oil, it is critical that you know what to do in the event it catches fire. Should you ever find yourself faced with a grease fire in your kitchen, follow these steps to ensure that it is extinguished quickly and safely.
- Place a metal lid over the flame. Do not use glass since the heat from the fire can cause it to break.
- Smother the fire with a liberal amount of baking soda if it is relatively small and contained. Try finding a lid if possible. Because it requires so much baking soda to extinguish a fire, a lid is faster and generally more effective than baking soda.
- Spray the fire with a Class B dry chemical fire extinguisher. Use this method if it is your only option, because it will ruin food and contaminate kitchen dishes and utensils.
- Use a Class K wet chemical fire extinguisher if it is available. Though more effective for extinguishing large grease fires, these are generally found only in commercial settings.
- Call 911 immediately if the fire is not quickly extinguished or if it grows too large to be controlled. Leave immediately if you feel threatened or endangered in any way!!
It was a nice Friday off yesterday, even though it rained the majority of the day. Any day off work is a good one in my book!
We got a good bit moved yesterday from my place to Keiths. Also lots of cleaning, tossing and rearranging at his house afterwards. It’s slowly becoming apparent just how much ‘stuff’ we both have, combined.
Later this afternoon, we’re meeting some of my former classmates and old neighborhood buddies from my school days. A girlfriend and I set this up and created an event on Facebook detailing date and time – very cool indeed! I hope there’ll be a good showing of people there, some of which I haven’t seen in 27-28 years. I’m looking so forward to it!
I hope all of you Easter bunnies out there have a very meaningful and relaxing Easter Sunday with family and friends… and God bless you all.
Last night I had some very strange dreams. I was walking on a road and I noticed there were kittens everywhere… one narrowly escaped being hit by a car. Freaking out, I gathered as many of them as I could, and they were all so precious. After gathering all the kittens up, here in the middle of the road also sits this iguana. It was a beautiful iguana, bright green and healthy looking – and it couldn’t take it’s eyes off me. I go pick it up and it instantly clings to me – of course this captured my heart.
People started arriving to help, and I knew the kittens were going to have to go to the pound. While I contemplated keeping one, I petted on the iguana who had happened upon a new mommy. At that moment I knew exactly who I was taking home. He was abnormally large, about the size of a full-grown dachschund. I carried him everywhere and we formed a strong bond… I can even say by the end of the dream that I loved him.
All in all, it was a good dream – except for being disappointed when I awoke and realized my little Iggy was just a figment of my imagination.
I honestly didn’t think I would find any interpretation on dreams of iguanas, but I should’ve known better. What I found floored me.
To see an iguana in your dream, represents harshness, cold-heartedness, fierceness, and inhuman poise. It is an indication of both hostility and unstoppable determination. The iguana may remind you of someone or some situation in your waking life that you find frightening yet awe inspiring.
Well. This is about as clear as it gets to me. This references me back a couple of posts to one titled Les Miserables. I am reminded of the advice of a dear friend, that no matter what, the offending entity deserves to be lifted up in prayer (thanks, E). Just imagine if Jesus picked and chose who he wanted to love! So, it doesn’t matter if they want it or not. No matter what – it’s my responsibility to do this.
Thanks for another good one, dreamland.
We seem to be going through a period of nostalgia, where everyone seems to think yesterday was better than today. I don’t think it was, and I would advise you not to wait ten years before admitting today was great. If you’re still hung up on nostalgia… pretend today is yesterday, and just go out and have one hell of a time. ~Art Buchwald
K was supposed to get his daughter over the weekend. In talking to her last night, she told him she really wanted to spend time with her boyfriend. Although he was disappointed, he told her sure. He understands what comes first in a 14-yr old girls life – friends and boys. It’s not been so long ago that my own daughter was that age, and once upon a time I was that teenager, too.
I understand that K and his ex had a difficult divorce. I’m also well aware of how she kept his daughter from him for almost 2 years of her life, and how much he missed her. When all is said and done, a 2-year wedge is hard to remove. What I don’t understand is this. WHY can’t parents share a common ground when it comes to the child they supposedly love so much? To me, it’s selfish – plain and simple. I’ll say it again because it very much bears repeating – SELFISH. It accomplishes nothing but hurting your child. An example, you ask? Well, here ya go.
Last year, Keith, his daughter, my daughter and I went to the local theme park. That same day he was sweet enough to buy all four of us season passes for the following (2011) year. Since we live so close, he figured it a great investment for an entire summer of fun. While on the phone with his daughter last night, she mentioned that her mother was getting her a season pass. K asked why, that she already had one and didn’t need it. She replied that her mother wasn’t going to let her bring her pass to his house when it was ‘his weekend’. He said, ‘but you won’t have to, because you’ll have the one I bought you – why would you need two passes?’ She never could really answer why. You see, he has no problem with her using her pass whenever she wants… that includes when she’s at home with mom. It’s hers. He bought it for her unconditional use. Apparently, mom’s rules are a bit skewed.
I can only go by past antics, but when ‘his weekend’ rolls around his daughter might show up with no pass (the one he bought) because mom won’t allow her to bring it.
Rule #253… no fun allowed at dad’s, ever.
So now what? Will K be forced to keep the pass at his house, so she’ll have one when he gets her for the weekend? Seriously… what benefit could this whole thing possibly have for their daughter? More importantly, what lesson could it be teaching her?
Aside from the obvious… how about ‘how to waste money the most economical way possible’? Yeah. Hats off to ya there.
It’s one of my favorite places. Basically, I love everything associated with the majestic Blue Ridge mountains – the Parkway, the scenic overlooks, the endless trails to choose from, the attractions like Linville Falls and Taverns, Chimney and Blowing Rocks. And I adore all the little towns in between.
They apparently received some more of the white stuff up there on Saturday. We saw a few small piles of snow scattered on the sides of the road as well as leftover brime. It was a perfectly weathered day to walk the town of Blowing Rock, with the afternoon high reaching about 65º. We hit all our favorite shops like Poppy’s and The Last Straw, and even bought a couple of things. Keith bought a couple of the led wax candles, that actually have timers on them! I thought it was so neat that we’ll never have to touch them except to replace the batteries. I bought something I’ve had my eye on now for over a year… those little battery illuminated willow branches that compliment a large vase arrangement.
It’s nice to walk up and down the streets of a quaint little town while holding hands, never being in a hurry. I always find myself wishing we could stay longer. Of course, the trip wouldn’t have been complete without a trip to Kilwin’s for some homemade fudge. Like I really needed another couple pounds! Oh well, maybe I can spread it out a little so that it doesn’t accumulate all at once…
Sometimes dreams are a blessing, other times they can be a real hindrance. Goodness gracious, they sure were a hindrance last night. It took a while this morning to ‘shake loose’ the lasting impression the combination of them made.
First it was my boyfriend, who was acting weird to say the least. The dream started with him covering for his brother, who was cheating on his wife. I came in his house, and there was this baby in a crib! I asked who the baby was, and was told it belonged to the skank his brother was cheating with. I was so perturbed at this – at both a) the fact that his brother was cheating (totally not something he would ever do) AND b) it was a Saturday night and we now had a baby to watch. As time ellapsed, my boyfriend’s face would morph into that of my ex-husbands, and form that sneer at me. I packed my stuff and went back home without him even trying to stop me.
I then ended up at some restaurant with some woman that I don’t know. I spotted an acquaintance, who just happens to be my ex-husband’s ex (I think) girlfriend. It was her birthday, and she was surrounded by many people who were there to celebrate with her. I went up to say hello, she saw me and smiled – and it appeared to me that she’d been crying. Her gaze then went beyond me, and in walked my ex who had come there to see her. They both stood up and hugged and cried. I remember feeling so very awkward standing there at that moment, and just wanted to melt into the floor.
There’s been a couple of recent happenings that likely, no DID, manifest within my dreams last night. After writing each dream down, I can just about pull and match each issue/incident to the dream/misrepresentation. It feels as though I’ve had no sleep at all… guess I’ll roll the dice once again tonight in hopes of scoring some dreamless sleep.
I believe everything happens for a reason – I’ve always believed that. Sometimes we don’t know why at the time… oftentimes we’ll never know the reason. I still believe it all the same though, and it’s honestly something I’ve never questioned.
I’ve been thinking recently about the people who come in and out of our lives and the directions it takes us. Sometimes these people are new and fresh – sometimes it’s someone from our past. It’s possible that a person can make a re-entrance into your life many years later – with you both taking solace from one another from a certain event. Maybe questions need answering. Perhaps you just need to be heard. Maybe you need validation from each other about something you went through, or of the pain inflicted by a person common in both your lives at the time.
Whatever the case may be, I remain thankful for every individual in my life that has came, went, and made a re-entrance.
We’ve all been caught in an embarrassing position. A scene that, much to our chagrin, turns us red quicker than a freshly boiled lobster. Being caught in a sticky situation makes you wish you could just melt away from it… oh, if it were only that easy.
At this point, I find it very comical that the subject of my last post was about a wedding.
A week ago, my boyfriend’s dear aunt passed away. I never had the pleasure of meeting her, a real shame since I’ve heard many people speak so very highly of her. Realizing a funeral isn’t the optimal situation to meet your boyfriend’s family members, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward to meeting a few that were coming in from out of state.
In the last few moments before we left, we were saying our final goodbyes. From the beginning, there’s been nothing but positive input and vibes from his family – always making me feel so welcomed. Then, here it comes. (Folks, it took me such by surprise that I can’t remember the exact words used… so I’ll do my best to paraphrase.) Something was asked about how long K and I had been together, to which I replied going on two years now. The conversation ensued from there…
Family member: Oh, you ought to just go ahead and get married.
Me: *red*red* **oh, hail, miss brightass-red** I look over at said family member, shaking my head ever so slightly left-to-right in attempt to avert the subject (wondering which direction my dear K’s sight was aimed as well). I also mouth a NO. Unfortunately, I now realize that this mega-defensive act was likely perceived as a sign that old Bon never again wishes to wed… which of course isn’t the case.
Family member: Oh c’mon… you know you want to!
Me: *screaming to myself on the inside, ‘WHAT DO I DO??’* So I stammer: ohhh… well – we ARE moving in together this summer… **another desperate attempt to thwart said subject matter** (Immediately I realize I could not have picked a more inappropriate time to mention our moving in together… a family funeral, of all things.)
Ugghh… another epic Bon FAIL.
The truth is, I have very strong feelings on the subject. A couple of my close friends feel the same as I do, for very valid reasons. In another lifetime many years ago, I was the first to ‘suggest’ marriage with my now ex-husband – I was two months with child at the time. As the years went along, many of our arguments would result in him ‘reminding’ me of this. Trust me when I say these instances never added any valuable building blocks to the relationship – instead it only allowed hurt and embarrassment to grow and fester within me. The backlash of a southern ‘shotgun wedding’ via the good old Justice of the Peace in York County, SC seemed to always be on the forefront of his mind.
Never again. This is something that can make you feel unworthy for a lifetime.
No, if it ever happens again, it won’t be coming from my mouth. I made a pact with myself a long time ago that I’d never utter words that even hint of it – no siree Bob. Besides, why would I need to when others do it for me?
I was talking to my mother last night, and the topic of worry came up. After some discussion as to some things that were bothering me, she asked ‘Where does it get you, really? And what does it accomplish?’ I had no answer.
I know prayer is the main key when you’re feeling overwhelmed, but I confess it doesn’t always quell the worry inside me. Of course all a person has to do when they feel the weight of the world on their shoulders is look around – for there’s always someone very near who has it a lot worse. It’s not that it makes you feel better – just lets you know that you’re not alone, and that perhaps what you have going on pales in comparison to theirs.
Worry can come from a variety of things. Too many bills, not enough money. A sick relative. Being unemployed. Health problems of your own. Drug or alcohol addiction of yourself or a loved one. Being bullied at school. Being bullied at work. A variety of these or other things can be a constant source of a knotting stomach and intense worry, as well as a variety of other emotions.
A long time ago, when I was just a kid, I found this religious tract somewhere that stated something along the lines of “Why Worry?? Don’t be a smudgepot!!” What was the meaning of this? I have no earthly idea other than saying not to worry, that we should let God handle things in His way. I remember my Mother and Grandmother seemed so impressed that I’d hit on such an integral subject at what appeared to be a much-needed time. I often think about that tract, and wish that I had it now so that I may fully absorb it’s contents. Something tells me the value within it’s pages was priceless.