Category: Life

Why I Like This Photo, Round 2

  
Sure, it doesn’t look like much now, but in a few weeks this is going to be Studly Doright’s long-anticipated man cave.

To hear Studly tell it he’s never, ever had a place to call his own. Now keep in mind, this is a guy who, after he spends 10 minutes in a bathroom, owns that bathroom, simply because no one else will venture inside.

Of course he did move directly from his parents’ home into our cozy little (read: crummy) rental house 38.75 years ago, so even though we’ve purchased progressively nicer homes every time we’ve moved, he really never has had a place of his very own.

Studly’s man cave is going to be part motorcycle garage/part workshop. I’ve even hinted that we could put a cot out there for those times when he snores so loudly that even the cats need earplugs.

I’m almost as excited for the man cave to be completed as Studly is. It means more space in my, I mean, our garage, less clutter in my, I mean, our home, and more opportunities for Studly to build stuff for me, I mean, us.

Who knew just how much I needed a man cave?

  
Peace, people!

Journey: Don’t Stop Believing

Today is Mother’s Day, and I really think all moms should get a break from trying to write a post on the Daily Post’s daily prompt. I am a mom; therefore, here is my take on the prompt: Journey.

http://youtu.be/PBEXSiFzOfU
   
 

When a Cowboy Dies

When a cowboy dies
the world sighs and God calls out
“come home son, and rest!”

“You’ve no more cattle
to brand, no roundups to ride,
come home son, and rest.”

“Your best horse awaits
ready for your gentle hand
ride home son, and rest.”

When a cowboy dies
loved ones cry, while angels sing,
“welcome home; now rest.”
  

Actor Fess Parker

I wrote this piece as a tribute to my husband’s Uncle, Frank Parker, who passed away this week. I didn’t have a photo of Uncle Frank, but actor Fess Parker (pictured above) was a cousin, and shared a lot of the same good genetic material. 

Uncle Frank was a true cowboy from his early teenaged years in Pie Town, New Mexico, until his body just couldn’t do the work anymore. Not too many years ago Frank suffered a broken neck in a horse-related incident.

No one expected Frank to live, but he did, recovering fully and continuing to ride the range out near Albuquerque, New Mexico, on into his 80’s.

Uncle Frank was one hell of a tough man, and a real cowboy. He’s ridden on home now. May he truly find rest.

Peace, people.

Mother’s Day

I have beautiful memories of Freida Hall, the woman who wiped my snotty nose, cleaned out my grungy ears, and made sure I always wore clean underwear. Glamorous roles, indeed.

Isn’t that what being a mother is about,  though? Taking on those tough jobs that nobody else wants to do: Getting up at midnight and two and four and six with a newborn who can’t settle into a schedule, or with a two year old who just wants to have a cuddle and a bit of comfort, or with a 16-year-old whose boyfriend had just broken up with her?

It’s about doing the tough love stuff when necessary–sniffing out the truth instead of believing every word her beloved child tells her. It’s about holding that child accountable for wrongdoing, and then holding her close and letting her know she’s still loved.

I’d love nothing more at this moment than to be able to tell my mom how much I loved her and how much she meant to me. I’d say:

Thanks Mommy for all of those unglamorous acts you performed, for all the wiped noses and bums, all the scrubbed faces and ears. 

Thanks for all the times you stayed up with me, cuddled me, held my hand, cooled my fevered brow, and listened to my teenaged angst. 

Thanks for teaching my brothers and me to be responsible adults through example and discipline and tough love.

Thanks, Mom. I love you and miss you every day.

   
 

Peace, people. Life’s too precious for anything else.  

Cringing Along

In response to the Daily Post’s Daily Prompt: Do you feel uncomfortable when you see someone else being embarrassed? What’s most likely to make you squirm?

living a cringe-free
life; wouldn’t that be super?
i just can’t comply.

this one makes the cut

errors in spelling
and grammar, too make me cringe
including my own.

 

…surely spelling isn’t one of them

 
even smart people
can commit cringe-worthy crimes
i’m pleading the fifth.

  

Another Time Around

Many of my faithful readers might recall that Studly Doright and I moved to Tallahassee, Florida, a little over a year ago. The move was a transfer for Studly, so he had built-in contacts and connections while I was left adrift on a new, yet familiar ocean–that of being the new, yet old, girl in a strange town.

With no kids in school and no full-time job I pretty much spend my days in aimless limbo, exploring little boutiques and eating at local cafés. I know, it’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it, right?

Today I popped into Another Time Around, a shop specializing in “Pre-Loved, Shabby Chic Furniture & Accessories.” Immediately I was struck by the creativity and artistry of proprietor Kim Parr. 

 
Kim’s work can be fun and funky or chaste and classic, and she will do custom work, as well. I even signed up to take a class in chalk painting! Imagine that! Me. Painting. Maybe someone should warn Kim of my dire lack of talent and tendency to klutziness.

 
Here’s just a peek at one of Kim’s creations. It started life as an octagonal end table. Now it’s a super cool pet area with a place for toys or even another pet bed on top. The details are so clever; I just might need this. Scout and Patches would probably bicker over who got the top bunk, though. Cats.

  
Here’s another pretty piece, even though my photo doesn’t do it justice. I wasn’t planning a blog post while I was wandering around the shop. 

I can’t wait to visit Kim’s shop again. So, keep mum on my klutziness issues. I’ll post a picture of the project I complete following the chalk painting class on the 19th of May. I’m not sure what I want my picture to reflect–chances are it will either deal with wine or cats. Or wine and cats. 

Seriously, look Kim up online at www.anothertimearoundtally.com and on Facebook she’s “Another Time Around TLH.” I seldom do plugs for businesses, so you know I really like her. 

Her pieces remind me a lot of my sister-in-law Lyn’s work, so I’ll shamelessly plug her site, too: TexanIslandGirl on Facebook.

Great day! Great discoveries! Peace, People!
 

Life’s Little Lessons #3

with Nana Noyz

Do not read an article about surgically transplanting heads just before bedtime unless you are prepared to deal with ethically charged nightmares.

(If the link works, you too can have nightmares.)

http://pinterest.com/pin/AypGbwAQQF8BMbrOH5wAAAA/

The Noyzinator Deluxe

Daily Post’s Daily Prompt–“You the sandwich: If a restaurant were to name a dish after you, what would it be?”

Frankly I’m surprised someone hasn’t already named a dish after me, but since, as far as I know they have not, let me wax eloquent on the topic.

The Noyzinator Deluxe
Two slices of soft white bread
Mayonnaise spread on both slices
Three slices of thick sliced bacon
Ripe avocado slices
Two fresh tomato slices
Leafy green lettuce
A dash of salt
Fresh ground pepper

–serve with a side of fresh grapes–

Duchess of Sandwich
the noblest of titles
conveyed upon me.

  
 

Criminal Minds

I’ve shared glimpses of my mild addiction to the television drama, Criminal Minds, on a couple of occasions. 

By “mild” I mean that I’m ok if I go a day, even two without watching an episode. By “addiction” I mean that if I’m home and an episode of Criminal Minds is playing on any channel, regardless of the number of times I’ve already seen said episode, I will stop whatever I’m doing and watch it again.

And if I’m lucky enough to catch a re-airing of an episode I’ve never watched before, a feeling of euphoria sets in–it’s a high, I admit it. 

I wouldn’t call this a disabling addiction; I mean I function fairly well in my normal life except when CM is on the telly. The problem is, one can pretty much find an episode playing anytime, day or night. So, if the dishes stack up in the sink, or if the beds go unmade, Criminal Minds is most likely the culprit.

Now, if you’ll excuse me I have housework to do, but first I might need to check the TV listings.
Peace, people!

  

Idyllic Schmyllic

  In response to the Daily Post’s daily prompt: What does your ideal community look like? How is it organized and how is community life structured?

I’ve lived perfect moments:

newborn babies cradled, lips pressing against softest cheeks
strains of music so pure that the soul
expands with every note
hands held on a warm summer night
sunsets shared over a bottle of wine, or two
chasing fireflies and catching none

But a perfect community?

one where every citizen feels welcome, safe, respected?
where no one goes hungry or suffers abuse?
where all ideas are honored and no one claims to know the best path for all.

i’ve not seen that.

  
peace, people!