Things I Like

These are things I like.  Things that make my life better.  Things that cling gently to my soul.

dusk. The quietness that falls just before darkness as the last few rounds of songbirds call out to their mates.

sad movies. I have a thing for flawed humans like myself.  I’m mostly drawn to films that are dark and edgy.

books.  Again, more flawed characters in foreboding and desolate worlds. The kind of characters who make you wonder “how can you possibly go on in life?” But it’s these characters that are the real heroes. The ones who continue on with all odds against them.

bamboo.  It’s a beautiful plant, although invasive, to the woes of my Florida neighbor.

Italian food.  I love all pasta.

potato chips.  Specifically, Sterzing Potato Chips, mostly found in Iowa. They are nasty but oh so good.

Happy Joe’s Pizza.  Again, an Iowa thing. Glad my kids live there and give me an excuse to indulge.

book stores. Simply to wander around and touch the thousands of books in all their excusite splendor.

tinkering on a sailboat. Something relaxing about checking and rechecking your lines and sails, polishing the rails.

kitties.  all kitties of the world.

construction. I can’t explain it.  Just love the process.

freshly cut grass. Need I say more.

foot massages. Right up there with good sex.

beaches.  At sunset with seagulls and terns playing at the water’s edge.

hostas. The big beautiful broad leaf kind.

carmel apples.

home.

Thanks for stopping by. Have a great day!
missing the mom gene

George Carlin & Me: Guiltless

I love George Carlin.

As a ninth grade dropout, he had a prolific 50-year career—which included 130 Tonight Show appearances, 23 albums, 14 HBO specials, three books, and one Supreme Court case.

That’s a lot of writing material.  Probably his best comedy was earlier than later.  But so what?   Even the later stuff is better than any comedians we have out there right now.  Jon Stewart and Robin Williams may come close, but still no match for Carlin.

Controversial? 

Yes.

But aren’t all hidden truths controversial?

Speaking of hidden truths, here is one of mine:

I don’t do guilt.

I probably have done many things in my life that I should feel guilty about. 

But I don’t.

Waste of time. 

Feeling guilty  =  feeling bad. 

And WHY would I want to feel bad??

Nope.  At 58, I can’t afford it.  Seconds, minutes, hours, days, months and years are speeding by like Haley's Comet.

So I'm not wasting any time feeling guilty or bad about something that I did or didn’t do because someone thinks I should or shouldn’t have done it differently.

It’s done.  I’m over it.  Move on.

So, dear friends, I don't waste my time feeling guilty about ....

... being on a sunny island when it is bejeezus cold back home
... drinking a Bloody Mary before noon
... being environmentally unfriendly on occasion
... not making my bed some mornings
... having had a higher salary than my ex
... skipping my morning exercise
... eating all the carmels in a box of chocolates
... leaving one sheet of toilet paper on the roll
... leaving my 5 year old to get on the bus by herself (don't judge, she's 23 now, she survived)
... divorcing my kids dad (BIG time no guilt here!)
... moving my kids around the country upteen times
... drinking wine, lots of wine
... taking time for me for no reason
... eating pickled pigs feet when I was a kid
... speaking the truth when others don’t want to hear it
... leaving my kids at home without a babysitter (the house didn't burn down nor injuries sustained)
... being right all the time *snort*
... making you read another list


“Don’t take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county, to a foreign country, but not to where the quilt is.”

Thank you George Carlin.

I miss you.  The comedy world is a bit less funny without you.

missing the mom gene

Favorite Things

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things

 

I love that song!  It is such a *feel good* song and makes me want to SHOUT out loud with song.  Something that would never happen.  SHOULD NEVER HAPPEN!  Pitiful vocal chords.  Tiny Tim comes to mind.

But the song doesn't keep me from thinking of all my favorite things this week:

• robins
• sunshine and 70 degree weather
• sleeping in my own bed after being gone a week
• hug from daughter
• kitty kitty
• book “The Hunger Games”
• outdoor walking
• sunshine (oh, did I mention that already?)
• Modern Family
• cranberries
• Chronicles of a Country Girl’s photos http://chroniclesofacountrygirl.blogspot.com/2011/02/snippet.html
• a child's giggle
• 70 degree weather (sigh)

My Favorite Photo of the Week:  Cape Cod Beach

 

When the dog bites
When the bee stings
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things
And then I don't feel so bad.

Thanks for singing along with me!

Have a great weekend.  See ya Monday!
missing the mom gene
 

P.S. What were some of your favorite things this week?

Tales of a Traveling Minimalist, Part 1

Recently, I had to check my luggage.  

Oh, the misery of it! 

The only time I check my luggage is once or twice a year when The Professor and I go skiing.  I have not yet discovered a way to pack ski sweaters, pants, scarves, mittens, ski helmet and ski boots in a carry-on. 

I have thought about breaking it up into several carry-ons and asking other fellow travelers who had only one piece of luggage if they would take one of mine. 

“Excuse me sir, but would you mind carrying this bag for me.”

But I’m afraid TSA agents would be on me like flies on honey and I would end up in one of those security rooms with only a table and light bulb hanging from the ceiling.  Not good lighting for someone my age.

So, I try to do WHATEVER it takes to avoid checking my luggage. 

Even traveling overseas, it has to be carry-on.  Lesson learned long ago that oversize luggage is not conducive to trucking around Europe.  Narrow hotel stairwells, cobblestone pathways and European car trunks do not make for happy travelers!

Nor happy hubbys.

No, when I travel, I’m a minimalist. 

But the biggest reason for NOT checking your luggage is that you never have to worry about an airline representative telling you, “We are not sure where it is.”

Dreaded words for a traveler.  Words that I’ve heard a few too many times before I smartened up and became a traveling minimalist.

In 1983, as a poor college student and single mother of three, my beat up luggage never showed up on a very short return flight from Aspen to Denver.   A DIRECT flight and my two bags ... gone!    Only mine, no one else’s.  Louis Vuiitton's they were not.  What are the odds that my bags were lost or stolen when so much better luggage was available for the picking.  Hello!  It was Aspen for god’s sake?  Home of Hollywood stars.  Maybe my shabby luggage had to fly cargo plane to Denver.

My kids wouldn’t talk to me for days cause I had LOST their precious T-shirt gifts.  Not to mention my meager college wardrobe of my fave sweaters and jeans. 

In 1989, another bag was lost on a return business trip from San Diego to Des Moines never to be recovered again. 

I’m sure all of my lost luggage has ended up at the Unclaimed Baggage Center warehouse in sleepy Scottsboro, Alabama.  In case you didn’t know, these are the folks who buy luggage from the airlines after 90 days and put it up for sale.  Someone in Alabama is walking around in my kids’ Ski Aspen T-shirts.

I have had about a half dozen episodes where my luggage didn’t arrive but fortunately it was delivered to me the next day.  An inconvenience, but at least it showed up.

But the biggest inconvenience is when your luggage is a no show on your arrival in a foreign country.  This is trouble.   Like trouble in River City or ... Malaga, Spain.

International Travel?  Let’s talk about that tomorrow!

Thanks for stopping by,
missing the mom gene

In Case You Were Wondering

1. What was the last thing you put in your mouth?  Water

2. How late did you stay up last night and why?  Argghhh ... 2am

3. If you could move somewhere else, would you?  Hell yes ... where it never snows

4. Have you ever been kissed under fireworks?  Probably.  Guess it wasn’t that memorable.

5. What items could you not go without during the day?  Laptop, eye drops, toothbrush

6. How do you feel about your life right now?  Pretty damn good

7. If we were to look in your Facebook inbox, what would we find?  Pretty boring stuff

8. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?  Haha, of course

9. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?  Not likely, only myself

10. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m.: who do you want it to be?  The Tooth Fairy delivering the news that I won the Publishers Clearing House give away

11. Do you think too much or too little?  Way too much

12. Do you believe in fairy tales?  Nope

13. Have you ever licked the back of a CD to try to get it to work? Yuck ..never

14. What’s the largest age difference between yourself and someone you’ve dated?  20 years

15. Do you have any friends that you’ve known for 10 years or more? A few

16. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?  Yes

17. What song do you want played at your funeral?  Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell

18. Would you tell your parents if you were gay?  Absolutely

19. What would your last meal be before getting executed?  Sterzing Potato chips and watermelon

20. What do you do as soon as you walk in the house?  Take my shoes off

21. Would you ever get plastic surgery?  Sure, why not

22. What is the first thing you notice about people?  Their teeth

23. What is the farthest you’ve been from home?  Japan and New Zealand

24. How did you meet your spouse or significant other (or most recent one)?   Match.com

25. Where was the last place you drove (other than home/school/work)?  To the airport

Happy Wednesday,
missing the mom gene

Slacker

Today, dear readers, I have nothing to post. 

Not that I don't have anything to say.  It's just that I need to put energy to writing today.  I've been a slacker lately.  Not a true slacker in the general sense, but definitely one when it comes to my writing.  So today, I do what I love and return to my short stories, continue to edit, create, polish, revise and do all that other *stuff* that brings the story to the page.  Somehow, though, it never feels quite finished or good enough for other's eyes ... to be reviewed .... judged ... critiqued ...

ohhhhhh, the pain of it all

Scary business. 

So see ya tomorrow! 

And thanks for stopping by,
missing the mom gene

Ma Bell No Friend of Mine

Grandson:  Nana, your phone is ringing.

Me:  Yes, I hear it.

Grandson:  Aren’t you going to answer it?

Me:  Nope.

Grandson:  Why not?

Me:  Cause if they have something say to me, they can leave me a message.

Grandson:  I can answer it for you.

Me:  Nope, that’s okay.

Grandson:  (Looking very troubled that no one was picking up the phone.) But what if they don’t leave a message?

Me:  Well, I guess it wasn’t important, was it?


This exchange with my grandson reminds me of the old story of the Maine storekeeper who was the last one in town to get one of those newfangled telephones. When a long-time friend and customer heard it ringing, and the storekeeper continued their conversation, the customer finally asked if the storekeeper was going to answer it. The reply: "I put it in for my convenience, not theirs."

Hmmm.  I am so not alone in the world!

It is a well known fact in my family that I won’t answer the phone.   House phone or cell phone, I let them ring their way to voice mail.  I figure, if they have something to tell me, they can leave me a message.  No need for me to interrupt what I’m doing at the moment.  I’ll call back ... eventually.

You might say I have some sort of phone aversion.

When my kids call, I let it go to voice mail.  And unfortunately, sometimes it can take me days to call back.  I forget.  Bad me.

Needless to say, that makes me very unpopular with them.

My friends primarily don’t phone.  They just email.  Or send me postcards.

I really like postcards.

But there is one person whose calls I DO take.  And that is The Professor’s. 

I kind of want to stay in his good graces.

He leaves me little love notes.

He brings me coffee in the morning.

And fixes my grapefruit.

And rubs my feet.

And takes all those calls that I won’t.

So there will be no sending him to voice mail.

Because he may just stop taking MY calls.

And then where would I be?

All alone in the world.

Singing to him like When Harry Met Sally

"Call me, don't be afraid, you can call me,

Maybe it's late but just call me -

Tell me and I'll be around."

So not me!

Especially on the phone!  Aack!


missing the mom gene (and missing the phone talking gene)

Confessions and Secrets

It's Friday and time for a little fun and humor.

1. My ex is... which one are we talking about?

2. I should learn to... quit interrupting

3. I love... Sterzing's potato chips

4. People would say that I am... impatient


5. I don't understand... whining

6. Life is... short

7. My past taught me... only depend on myself

8. I get annoyed... with clutter

9. Parties are... overrated

10. I wish... I could eat anything I wanted

11. Dogs and cats... all need love

12. My childhood pets... did not die from old age. Sad.

13. Tomorrow is... another great day

14. I have a low tolerance for... crowds

15. If I won a million dollars... I'd keep doing what I'm doing

16. I'm terrified of... zip lines

17. I've come to realize... nothing lasts forever

18. I talk... rarely on the phone

19. My best friend(s)... do not judge me

20. My first kiss... was with my cousin. Yuck!

21. I am thankful for... Ben & Jerry's

22. Marriage is... best when of equal mind

23. Some where, someone is... sailing without me

24. I'll always be... wanting the next new Mac

25. The last time I really cried was...when The Professor pretended to be dead in the pool on his 60th birthday and wasn't. Then I wanted to kill him!

26. My cell phone is... for my convenience, not others

27. Before I go to bed... I write, read RSS feeds, do email.  Bad me.

28. Right now, I am thinking... why am I doing this

29. Yesterday I... watched a sunset on the beach

30. Tomorrow I will be.. writing the next day’s blog

31. I really want to... find that little house by the sea and write and sail every day

32. My most treasured possession is... my mind

33. Someday I want to travel to... Bora Bora

34. I’m amazed... by nature

35. I need... a nap after this. My brain hurts.


Have a great weekend,
missing the mom gene

Friend or Stranger Danger

Yesterday afternoon I thought I would hang out at Panera with the other laptop geeks, have some Orange Spice tea, grab a table in a dim lit corner with an outlet, and write.

Good plan.

Until.

The table next to me became occupied.

Like, Dude, there are 20 other open tables!

I knew she was trouble the moment she sat down and looked my way, pulling out her laptop.  I didn't catch watch she said.  I just smiled.  Sort of the way you do on a plane when the person takes the seat next to you and tries to start up a conversation.  You do a lot of nodding, smiling, returning to the book you have already placed in your lap, while remembering the most important rule.  No eye contact.

Dude, do you see that I do not want to chat.  I have very important work to do here.

The no eye contact rule did not work. 

Not

at

all.

She was one very determined lady.

And thus she began ....

Lives on the Jersey shore.  Can’t stand NYC any longer after 25 years.  Works in the medical field.  A consultant, a systems-something-or-other who would like to find full-time employment in something-or-other.  Grew up in the area.  Mother lives nearby.  Sister also.  Where do I live?  Is it nearby ?  Do I work?  What do I write?  Been published?  Why do I come here and work?  Panera is better than Starbucks.  Starbucks is too noisy. Do I like my iPad. Do I think it can replace my laptop?

Arrrrrghhhhhhh!

You get the idea.

By then my brain was screaming

Escape. Escape.

But there would be none.

There would be no escape.

Anxiety crept up into my chest, tightened around my throat, threatening to turn me into Cruella de Vil.

And thus the struggle.  What I really wanted to do was ignore her and be rude.  Because what if she was some sort of psycho-stalking-kind-of-crazy?

Or maybe.

She was just a nice person that if I gave her a chance, could be quite interesting.

I remember my sophomore year in college, a fellow female classmate began striking up conversations with me after English Lit.  For a long time, I tried to avoid her, racing out of class ahead of her, making excuses that I had to get to my lab.  There was nothing wrong with her.  I was just leery as to why she sought me out.  We had nothing in common.  No similar friends or activities. 

After several months of her continued pursuit, I started having coffee with her.  We started to hang out together and our relationship slowly developed into a close friendship that lasted for 20 years.

So while the Jersey lady continued to engage my reluctant self in her volley of chatter, I thought of my college friend.

But suddenly, she started to put her laptop away and stood up.  She was late picking someone up. 

I felt relieved. 

But I also wondered, did I miss a chance of making a new friend?  Or did I just avoid a Jersey Shore Snooki.

I wonder.

missing the mom gene (and sometimes the friend gene)

Delurking Day

Today is Delurking Day!

Woohoo!

What is Delurking Day, you ask?

It’s a day when all you folks who stop by without ever commenting get a chance to comment so I know who you are!

And it will make me smile.

Because a comment just feels like a lot of love.

Drum roll, please!

There's nothing you can know that isn't known
Nothing you can see that isn't shown
There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be
It's easy
Love, love, love.  

All you need is love.

Where am I going with this?

If you are daring enough, or have time enough… I invite you to delurk.

Leave a comment.

If you don’t know what to say, but are up for the delurking challenge… just write BEACHES.

Where I would like to be right now.

On a beach

gathering sea shells

sipping a pina colada

reading a good book

taking a nap

P.S. Holy Camole .... I’m exhausted.


Yours truly while waiting,
missing the mom gene

Chop Chop

I hate going to the hair salon. 

Finding a hairdresser is like ...
well, like gambling ...
spinning a roulette wheel 
betting at the race track
buying a lottery ticket

Rarely do I win, most times I loose.

Just too many bad bad memories as a child.

I have this sort of thick wavy curly hair that seems to have never been in style.

Except maybe when I was 3.

As far back as I can remember, we have constantly fought

My hair and I

Way too much trauma

and drama

when for picture day

in fourth grade

this was as good as it was going to get.

So sad.

Wish me luck today!

As Always,
Hairdresser Hater

missing the mom gene

A Crowd? No Thank You!

Have I told you that I am a crowd hater?   I am.  Hate ‘em.  Will do anything to avoid them.  Shopping?  No interest.  Dinner?  If there’s a wait, I’m out of there.  In fact, the 5:30 dinner hour is perfect for me (barring there are no children).  Huge social aversion to where crowds may occur.  Concerts, stadiums, bars, parties, and especially parades.

 

When my kids were little, I felt socially pressured in taking them to our local parades.  That’s what “good” moms do.  What kind of mother doesn’t want to share the delight of clowns, tykes on bikes, marching bands, majorettes, prancing horses?
 
Once and only once, I dressed up my 6 year old son in clown costume, decked out his bike, rolled him down the road with a dozen other kid bikers and John Deere tractors and followed the crazy, weaving Shriners at the annual 4th of July parade in our small Iowa farm town. 

Most other times, we would just be bystanders, staking out our spot on the curb ahead of time.  As the crowds rolled in, space got tight, temps would rise and my kids grew bored and cranky.

I think the only thing they were really interested in was the candy that was thrown to them.  In fact, I think it was the clowns that came up with the idea to throw tooth rotting candy to the restless kids.  In fact, I’m sure of it.  What kid really likes a clown.  They’re scary!  And how do you win them over?   Give ‘em candy.  Creepy.

I’m thankful those days are behind me. Should my grandkids ever want to go to a parade, I’ll just suggest we go to Wal-Mart and buy a big bag of candy and go to a movie.

So when The Professor Hubby wanted to go the local Winter Parade on our small Florida island during our vacation, I whined.  I really whined, balked, stomped, swore, bit.  But let’s be clear though, I didn’t break the skin.  No blood was drawn.

He said hear me out (for the sake of the marriage vows.)  I always try to hear him out when he says “For the sake of the marriage vows.”

“We can bike there ... it’s only a few blocks away.  We’ll leave 5 minutes before it begins and if it’s too much of a crowd, we can just turn around and come home and I’ll make you a Bloody Mary.”

“With the good Vodka?”

“Yes, with the good Vodka.”

So for the “sake of the marriage” and the prospect of a Bloody Mary, I acquiesced.  We hopped on our bikes, lawn chairs in tow and peddled the few blocks to the main drag.   As we arrived, we chose a corner with only a half dozen folks.  Two senior citizens in their lawn chairs and a mom and her two teens.  Now this was turning out to be the kind of parade I could endure.

We had barely got our chairs unfolded and settled into them when we noticed the end was in site.

No marching bands, no Knights of Columbus, no Shriners, no decorated kid bikes, no farm tractors, no clowns or helium filled balloons.  Just a dozen or two of decorated cars, trucks and boats filled with candy and bead throwing hulligans.  

Boats, for God’s sake, who knew they could be in a parade!

There were pirates.

There was a firetruck.

And there was Santa.

And then, it was over.  I looked at The Professor and grinned.

“Now this is my kind of parade!” and I picked up the Snickers bar lying at my feet.

I don’t think I”m going to need that Bloody Mary after all!

Sincerely yours,
Missing the Mom Gene and A Crowd Hating Whiner