Monday Morning Memories

 The Nashville Marathon has come and gone.

So have my Virginia Belles.

CBW and Baby Sis.

But not before they slogged through 13.1 miles.

In a wind driven rain.

Up and down Nashville's friendly, hilly roads.

In an amazing race time 2:37-- they rocked it.

While I waited in my toasty, dry car.

Dozing.

 

Oh, and there may have been cocktails.

Now, we detox.

We will let our stomach muscles rest from all the laughing.

And make plans for the next reunion.

Nashville Blogfest anyone?

This 'n That Thursday

• Did you have a shelf of african violets in your grammar school classroom?  With the purply gro-light?
• Remember my friend Ingelein?  This is her awesome mother. We are all having dinner tonight.
• Do kids still fingerpaint?  With that thick, cold jellylike stuff?
• That crazy parachute dude is kinda hot.
• That Taylor Swift gives me the creeps.  Something's not right with her.
• A very good friend from Connecticut is coming for a visit tomorrow.  So happy.
• What's with all the sudden endorsements on LinkedIn?  I appreciate them!
• Yesterday, I procrastinated postponed my run until midday.  My route takes me right past Sonic.  It smelled divine.
• I think I may have a burger today.
• What's with all those mesh lawsuit emails?  I haven't had that procedure.  Yet.
• Middle Tennessee in October is heavenly.
• I am so blessed.  And grateful.  So very grateful.

Monday Motivation

29 years ago today:

Today:

Aquarius Horoscope

For The Week Starting October 15, 2012

This will turn out to be a great week for you. Your intuition is strong so follow your hunches. You may experience some sudden changes and happenings that may improve your surroundings. The chance of a lifetime could be yours before this week is over. Timing is everything this week. A large expense decreases your bank funds but you have expected it. If you have any artistic talent it will come out this next week.

What a difference a few decades make.  How does your week look?

This 'n That Thursday

Memories:

• Peter Max posters.
• Mary Quant.
• OJ cans as hair rollers.
• The Zodiak Killer.
• Bonne Bell 1006.
• Klackers.
• 4 TV channels.
• The milkman.
• Earth shoes.
• Ashtrays in doctors' offices.
• Mercurochrome. With the wand.
• Denim binders.

You?

Writing What You Know

Is anybody looking for a new project? Because I am always up for a new project if it means I can stop doing the other 200 projects I've started and become bored with my chores and stretch my mind a bit. Anyway, there is a FREE memoir writing class here. Marion Roach Smith is an accomplished writer, and with her latest, Writing What You Know: Realia, she guides the reader through all the steps necessary to get it all down:

"The great writer, Flannery O'Connor, said that anyone who survived childhood has enough material to write for the rest of his or her life. She's right, of course. But how do you get to that material? And how to choose which story to write first, which truth to tell, and in which order do you write those tales?
If you are blogging, journaling, scrapbooking or scribbling notes about your life, you are writing memoir. I will help you dig among your stuff and get your story written in interesting, enlightening, readable and possibly sale-able ways.
Along the way you will be amazed to learn what all memoirists discover--that writing what you know is the single greatest portal to self discovery."


So, does anyone want to do this? I think it would be a great exercise, and, who knows, maybe we all can go on book tour together;)

Holiday Finery

Pretty Birds.

Prettiest Bird.

And her fancy brother....

Merry Makers.

Memory Lane Monday

What a weekend!  The sun finally made it's appearance, and every person in the land hit the streets to celebrate.  Lucia and I went to a patriotic organ concert at my church which was better than we anticipated...and then we went to lunch.  It's what we do best.  Lunch.  This guy was wandering down the street.  In a New England town that was burned to the ground during the Revolutionary War, people take the remembrance seriously.  And I am thinking he may have actually been there.

Back at the old homestead, the teenagers were busy entertaining.  And I love every minute of it.  Every time a group convenes here, I want to go absorb them.  It will be a matter of weeks before they all scatter to their new lives.  My own two along with them.
I am quite nostalgic these days.  And this weekend, I was remembering a story with my Bird about a  trip we took to Jackson Hole one Summer when she and Augie were 7 or 8.  One of the things we did was to ride the luge down a mountain, but on a sled-like thing with a brake/throttle.  I went first, and midway, a streak of pink and blonde whizzed by, apparently having discovered the throttle.  I think I heard a "Hi, Mommy!"  At the bottom, the pink child and I waited for the boy child....Who was cautiously coming down the mountain with the brake in hand.  And some not-to-happy lugers behind him.

Guess who's already packed for school?

Pimping My Mango Girl

Okay y'all...please go here and enter this contest for the world's biggest martini container/chip holder.  Mango Girl wants us to share the wealth.  I'm a little too stingy for this sharing bit....In my own little world, I think she painted something just for me.  However, she wants some new tunes....

So go give her some new music ideas.

Just don't win this ...

Because I want it.

Seriously.

Go HERE and enter;)

Mama Reads: Another Book Giveaway

What are your thoughts on reincarnation?  I sometimes think I know some people I have been before.  And I believe I know some lives my children have lived before this one.  But those are stories for another day.  Are you sufficiently scared of me now?

I have just finished reading Many Lives, Many Masters by Brian L. Weiss for the second time.  And I found it even more compelling than I did ten years ago.  The book is the true account of Weiss' (a clinical psychiatrist) experiences and spiritual growth as he treats a young woman for severe anxiety and recurring nightmares.  The book follows her treatment via hypnotherapy where she revisits past life experiences along with insights for her doctor.

Have any of you ever read this before?  If not, I am giving away my copy for you to read, tell us what you think, and pass it on.  Just leave a comment and tell me what you think of reincarnation:  Yes, No, Maybe...?  I would be willing to bet that this book will have an impact on you whatever your present mindset might be.  I'll randomly draw the winner tomorrow morning (4/30) at 8 EST.  Have a wonderful day!

Memory Lane

One fine, spring day about 11 years ago, I had the following exchange with my beloved Baby Bird as she dressed for another day of First Grade:

MPM:  Bird?  Would you like to wear the pink pants and have your hair in a ponytail, or the orange pants and pig tails? 

Bird:  Gah. (Yes, I think she invented this word) Gah.  [followed by a bunch of guttural noises and flailing about.] I don't want my hair brushed. (This was a daily request.)

MPM (laughing to herself and trying to diffuse the rage growing in her belly): Baby Bird!  What is wrong?  Do you need some Midol? (Men: never, ever try this technique.  It is only allowed between a mother and her elementary-aged daughter.)  You are a mess!

Bird (If memory serves: screaming):  NO! No pig tails; no pony tail; no hair brush. And I don't want your stupid doll. 

MPM: ~~~

MPM: 0   The Bird: 1

Lesson?  Choose your battles.  It all works out.  

Except for the Augie factor.

That's one we're still working on.

He wants to rent a powder blue tuxedo for an upcoming prom.

He already has a respectable one that I bought.

Should I let him do it?

Laundry Loafers

 The Great Shoe Caper of 2008.

 

I finally washed the other one so they would match.

What's the sixth picture in your sixth folder?

Go check.  I'll wait.

And thanks to Shara for the fun meme.

 

Dinner Party a la Sonoma

Last week, my dear old friend Miss Hower--she of the voodoo doll fame--invited us to come to dinner on Sunday night.  Being the dedicated Sonoma Mama that I am, I told her we would love to, but not to be offended if I couldn't eat everything.  Because Miss Hower has been down this road with me more times than she probably cares to remember, she was immediately interested in what I could have, and made a Sonoma feast fit for, well, me on Sunday evening.  We had broiled Arctic Char with a fantastic Napa Herb rub and an avocado/tomato/cilantro topping, steamed peas, couscous, roasted sweet onions and tomatoes, salad, and all the water I could down.  Miss Hower is a fantastic cook, and I loved every last bite.

Now for a bit of the diet and personal care saga history of Miss Hower and Mental P:  We have been at it for a long time.  I won't say how long, but a looooong time.  We started in college.  We would put bandanas on our heads and take jogs together.  When it rained, we would jog in slow motion around our suite to the strains of "Chariots of Fire."  Yup.  That long ago.  Miss Hower also arrived on campus that year with a complete assortment of Erno Laszlo skin care products.  The rest of the girls were so impressed that we had all our newspapers delivered to our door under the name of, you guessed it, Erno Laszlo.  She also had so many cute little sweaters that she had to color coordinate them in her closet.  You do not want to know how many shoes she has right this very moment.

Anyway, fast forward ten years after our Vanderbilt days, and I am visiting Miss Hower in her Florida home for a "spa" weekend.  We planned a whole weekend of exercise, massage, healthy eating and relaxation.  And it went pretty well.  Until lunch on day three.  We sauntered in to a restaurant in Sarasota, Florida--a French restaurant with a very French waiter.  First, we wanted a diet drink with no caffeine.  Who the hell goes into a restaurant like this and drinks anything but wine?  Sigh.  As I recall the waiter did a whole bunch of sighing.  Then we placed our orders.  I wanted some sort of salad with, basically, none of the listed ingredients.  And everything else on the side, thank you so very much.  Miss Hower ordered the salade aux champignons.  Only she didn't want any mushrooms with that salad.  In case you don't speak French,  champignons are mushrooms.  Needless to say, I think that poor waiter had to change his shirt because he was sweating so much.  I cannot sit and write this story without laughing out loud.  Fifteen years later.  

The point of this little walk down memory lane is to say how blessed I feel to be able to say to a friend--who has graciously invited you to dinner--that you do not want any champignons, and she totally gets it.  With grace and style.  Thank you Miss Hower, you are the best, and I know you will always have my back.  xoxo, Miss Ives.

My Monday

I seem to be in step with just about everybody else's wacky holiday mood.  Yesterday was a full day.  First, I went to the dentist.  Not a big deal, luckily, but the hygienist kept calling me 'honey.'  It made me cranky.  That scraping thing made me cranky, too, but I am done for another six months.

Then I came home and moped around a bit, got some butter out to bake, and decided to take my menobutt for a walk with Dora.  She is good company and can find many things to smell entertain herself with around the neighborhood.  Which is what we were doing when we found Daisy.  

Daisy was on her own and pretty far from her address on her tag.  So, Dora and I caught her and brought her home with us to call the number on her tag--disconnected.  Great.  While I was on the phone, she made me a present in the dining room.  I put some Nature's Miracle on it so Squazz could help me with it when he got home from playing golf.  Yes, golf.  It was in the 60's here yesterday.  Anyway, he was delighted with Daisy's present, too.

I had no choice but to call Animal Control to come get the dog.  And while we waited, I tied her up outside.  I attached a leash to a very heavy iron loveseat.  Heavy.  Daisy dragged it around with her like it was a rubber ball.

Isn't she cute?  I am going to check tomorrow to see if her family called for her.  Dora kinda liked her.  Isn't she cute?

After Daisy went with the nice Dog Catcher, I went to start my baking project.  I somehow decided that this would be just the holiday activity that would get me in the spirit.  It took me a few minutes to find my mother's recipe for Louisiana Cookies.  God rest her, my mother never used a clean piece of paper to write a recipe--it was either the back of an envelope or a memo note like this:

When I was 12 or so, we ran into Chad Everett and Wayne Rogers at a Red Lobster in Nashville, and she handed me a ratty old envelope out of her purse so I could get their autographs.  She also saved aluminum foil.  But I digress.  And the other side of this memo/recipe paper looked like this:

Her notes about the recipe--dated 12/19/88.  Twenty years ago this week, she was making these cookies.  I was a married young woman in New York City, and my mama was in her Tennessee kitchen baking her wonderful Christmas treats.  I miss her so much.

Louisiana Cookies

2 sticks softened butter

4 tablespoons confectioner's sugar (plus more for dusting cookies)

2 teaspoons vanilla

2 cups flour

2 cups finely chopped pecans

Mix butter and sugar well.  Add vanilla, flour and pecans.  Mix well.  The dough will be very thick.  Break off pieces of the dough and roll into a small crescent shape about 1 1/2"

Place on ungreased cookie sheet and bake at 300 for about 30 minutes.

Makes between 5 and 6 dozen, depending on size.

After they cool, roll in extra confectioner's sugar.

Enjoy!

Remembering

• I remember the first plane.  Then the second one.
• I remember feeling like this could be the end.
• I remember how beautiful that day dawned.
• I remember the first tower going down.  And the second one.
• I remember calling friends to check on spouses and siblings.
• I remember that I used to work on floor 104 of Tower One.
• I remember making sure the flag was out.
• I remember feeling numb.
• I remember driving to pick up my kids at school.
• I remember telling them what happened.
• I remember holding them a little tighter.
• I remember standing on the beach in Westport and seeing the smoke.
• I remember the silent, still night sky.
• I remember feeling an overwhelming loss of innocence.

What do you remember?

Mama Memories

Kacey at Wine on the Keyboard has a photo contest going on, and the theme is motherhood. Midnight tonight is the deadline for submission.  Sorry to be so late with this.  But I've had company.  Fred and Bessie are lovely guests, but they can be some work.

Any hoooo.  You may have noticed that I have been facing my looming empty nest with some mixed feelings.  Motherhood has so many meanings.  This is nothing new.  Ask any mother.

After Kacey's post yesterday, I decided to make my motherhood theme based on my little angels' progress through school. Their creations can still bring a tear to my eyes.  My only problem is I don't know what to send to Kacey.  Help me out please.  And make sure to send Kacey your own motherhood shot.  Fame and fortune fun await you!

1.  Sigh

2.  3-D Creations and High School Frustrations

3.  Sigh

Sometimes I did their lonjry!

A Flashback

Last night, Squazz and I had dinner at the beautiful home of one of my oldest friends, her husband and their amazing triplets (one of whom happens to be my godson).  Miss Hower and I were suitemates in college, and, as a result, have many tales to tell.  

One that we both remember fondly is that we had a composition class together that was taught by the most provincial man I have ever encountered.  He rued the fact that we didn't have to wear the lay-type gowns like the students at Oxford.  So, instead the boys were required to wear a tie and we girls had to wear a dress.  To his class. Every Tuesday and Thursday.

Oh, and he rarely gave anyone a B.  So you could pretty much forget about an A.  Miss Hower and I, being the naive brave young ladies we were, forged ahead with this lovely exercise, and in spite of the odds, turned in what we thought were some amazing papers.  All came back with a nice big C on the top.  If my memory serves me correctly, I believe he used a red magic marker.

Fast forward to a balmy spring evening.  Miss Hower and Miss Ives are preparing to write their papers on Robert Frost's "The Mending Wall" which are due the following morning.  We have done nothing and it is about 11 pm.  Mind you, dear reader, this was back in the day when we had to type our papers.  With footnotes. On a typewriter.

We decided first that we would prepare to write.  We juiced up on coffee.  Plotted and planned.  We drank more coffee.  And then we poured all our energy and creativity into a masterpiece.

A voodoo doll that would take care of Professor Weatherby and all our woes.  We spent a good part of the early morning hours crafting this sucker.  And boy, were we pleased.  We did all sorts of horrible things to that doll, and I don't know what time it was when we finally tossed it out the window, turned to our IBM Selectrics, and wrote some sort of drivel.  Then we showered, put on our skirts and went to class.  We got B's.  Go figure.

Oh, and Professor Weatherby?  I'd like you to know that Miss Hower has written a screenplay that is about to become a fantastic movie.  And she wears jeans.

Snipe Hunt Anyone?

Submarine Races?

Cow Tipping?

Jackalope Hunting?

Does anyone remember these?  When I was a teenager, we whippersnappers were always looking for some reason to go out into the wilds and look for the legend du jour.  In Tennessee, we had a lot of stuff to go in search of.  We had lots of local witch covens, and there were always the ghosts of Natchez Trace, but our favorite was...The Bell Witch.

If you have the time, take a few minutes and read about the Bell Witch.

Tammy, you may be particularly interested...this haunting is rumored to have inspired the Blair Witch Project.  At any rate, I grew up terrified by the thought of this spirit.

And writing about it has given me the chills right now.

 Augie recently asked me if he could go to a friend's house to go look for Melon Heads.

Apparently these descendants of the colonial witches are alive and well in the forests of Connecticut, Michigan and Ohio.  And they have these really big heads.  You have to go to a certain road called Dracula Drive and wait for them to come out of the woods.   Who knew there was all this fun to be had nearby?

Kids today, geesh.

Wait.

Do I see a resemblance?

Oh, and Happy Earth Day everyone.

Tread lightly, please.

Mental Musings

There was this 'lady' at the nail salon yesterday who made the poor girl paint her nails FOUR different times because she didn't like the colors she was choosing.  As I was leaving, she was moaning and groaning to the owner that she wanted her polish removed. ~~~

I had a dream last night that my Baby Bird got into the college of her choice.  My kids are only juniors....  I'd better get used to these dreams.  At least they might take the place of all those annoying airplane dreams.

Lucia had a dream that she was babysitting Little Ricky while Lucy and Desi went out to dinner.  She also had to take care of their dog.  But she was too tipsy to get up off their sofa to let him out.  

My rental car smells like a mixture of banana vomit and Glass Plus.  Here I am hanging my head out to breathe some fresh air.  See how nice my manicure came out.

There is a painfully thin woman at my gym whom I call Grannyrexia.  She runs on the treadmill for about an hour and then takes boxing lessons for a half hour.  A strong wind would blow her over.

Is it really necessary to have a paper shredder?

St. Patrick's Day O'Meme

So there's this new meme floating around out there, and I have decided to play along today. The rules:

1) You must post the rules on your post before you answer the questions. check

2) You need to list one fact about yourself using each letter of your middle name. If you don’t have a middle name use your maiden name instead. check

3) When you are finished with your answers, you tag one person for each letter of your name. nope

L My lilies have sprouted!

I I have no idea how to load my i-pod. Bird and Augie have to put my songs on for me. I don't know what I'm going to do when they skeedaddle off to college. Oh yeah, I forgot. I am going to go too.

L The heck with that sassy water. I am seriously thinking about Liposuction. I hate this menopot business. Seriously.

L I am a total Lifetime TV nerd. As a matter of fact, it is on right now.

I I do not like store-bought ice cream. Not to worry, though, I get plenty of calories elsewhere.

A There has been no one to rival Audrey Hepburn. Ever.

N I grew up hating this middle name. Now I love it.

My Theme Song

Flea asked all her readers about their favorite songs, and I could think of none other than Petula Clark's Downtown. I have a vivid memory of sitting beside my mother's stereo credenza (remember those things???), practicing tying my keds, and listening to this song. It makes me smile inside and out. And when she came home, and I demonstrated my bow-tying proficiency, my beautiful mother sat back on the sofa and clapped her hands. The next day, she brought me a "Hi, Heidi!" doll. It came in a little red carrying case and had three outfits! I'll never forget that. Do you have a theme song?