Renewed Inspiration

So you've probably already heard that I wrote The. Perfect. Blog. this morning.....and lost it.  Several hours have tick-tocked by and I have come to the realization that it wasn't The. Perfect. Blog.  But this one is!

So my earlier topic was paying homage to the Australian Open and my top 5 favorite tennis players of all time.  I had them all laid out, with photos and comments on each one.  But the Blog Fairies knew nobody really cared about my top 5 favorite tennis players of all time.  Instead, the Blog Fairies wanted this story to come out.  And it is all perfectly true.....in my head, that is!


Rafa's Romancing

Once upon a time there was a super hot guy named Rafael Nadal.  He played tennis and made lots of money.  But he was lonely.



He was playing tennis one day when, he looked in the stands and saw *ME*. 



He said, in an extremely sexy Spanish accent, "You there, you beautiful woman.  I must have you!  We will move to Majorca and live happily ever after."

"Oh, Rafa", I said.  "I am a happily married woman.  You can't have me.  I can't move to Majorca, for I live happily in Lafayette with my handsome husband, Ted."



He laughed.  "Ha, ha, ha.  Oh my beautiful Marilyn.  Allow me to show you something."



"Look at me.  Now look at your husband."

 

"Now look at me.  Now look at your husband again."

"Oh, Rafa," I said, "While you are quite the physical specimen, I must remain with Ted."



Rafa scowled.  He decided to try another tack.



"But, Marilyn.  I am just a boy....standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him."

I said "I'm so sorry, Rafa.  I can't.  My heart truly belongs to Ted.  Only Ted.  Now.  Forever.  Always.  You and I,...we...can never be together."

Rafa was crushed.  Beyond all crushed-ness was he crushed.  So crushed that he lost in three sets of the quarter finals of the Australian Open.



"I then will settle for this woman."



Then he dropped to the ground and cried.  The end.

P.S.  This has nothing to do with anything, but I made PW's restaurant style salsa today and it is delicious.  True dat.

Heavy Sigh

You know what is VERY frustrating?  Spending a couple of hours working on your blog and having it disappear right in front of your eyes. 

And today's post was great.  Probably the best one ever.  And now it's gone. 

Sorry for the technical difficulties....

Half a Score and a Few Days Ago...

Ten years ago I uprooted myself from everything I ever knew and moved to the Midwest.  I left my mom and dad, sister, nieces, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends....all for a hairy legged boy.  Was it worth it?  Yeah.  (Although I would love for my mom and dad, sisters, nieces, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends to move to the Midwest!)

In these past ten years, I...

• Married my last husband
• Became a stepmom
• Loved and lost my precious Holly and Steffi
• Found sistas from anotha motha named Nikki and Dana
• Met and fell in love with my sweet Levi
• Worked with the greatest boss/woman/mentor ever
• Worked for the worst team leader ever
• Learned how to work with stained glass
• Spent one night in Europe and 18 in Africa
• Jumped in my first pile of leaves
• Celebrated the births of a nephew, great-nephew, niece and two great-nieces
• Saw the Dalai Lama
• Celebrated the 50th anniversaries of both my mom and dad and my husband's mom and dad
• Grown mentally, spiritually and (sadly) physically
• Walked one lap around the Indianapolis Motor Speedway with my dog
• Went zip-lining
• Installed a linoleum floor all by myself 
• Said (and meant) the words "I have fallen and I can't get up"
• Went on two cruises with my family
• Made amazing friendships
• Preached a sermon
• Rode roller coasters until I wanted to throw up
• Helped mold a fine young boy into a fine young man
• Fostered puppies for the Humane Society
• Sang in the church choir
• Rode in my first limo
• Attended three pro football games
• Actually witnessed four seasons
• Celebrated a perfectly pink birthday party
• Made friends with a Democrat
• I'll think of many more things once I post this blog

What's in store for the next ten years?  I can't wait to find out!

Sleuthing

I always loved reading Nancy Drew mysteries when I was younger.  She was such a good sleuth, always solving the mystery right as the book ended!  Made me want to be a girl detective when I grew up.  Today, I set out to solve my very own mystery.  Well, me and my handsome Hardy Boy husband.  It is...THE CASE OF THE TRAVELING BOOT.

I had an aunt.  Well, she wan't really MY aunt, but in my heart she is.  And we called her Auntie.  No, not "an-tee".  That's how Yankees say it.  Her name is Auntie..."ay-knee".  And Auntie was a collector of shoes.  Miniature glass and porcelain shoes.  Sweet little shoes.  When she passed away, they were given to my aunt, and my aunt shared a few pieces with me, my sister and my mom.  One of the ones she gave to mom was a lovely little porcelain boot with a painting on the toe of the boot of the Milford ME Church in Milford, Illinois.  And that is where the mystery begins.

Destination:  Milford, Illinois

Hardy Boy Husband and I hop in the car and head on over to Milford.  We were looking for the corner of Axtel and Jones, the place the ME Church was Googled to be located.  Sure enough, it was there.  It hadn't moved, fallen down or anything.  It was right there.  We searched the parking lot for clues and cars; we found neither.  We did find a church bulletin that listed the phone numbers of the church and the pastor.  We dialed both numbers; we got no answer on either number.

Hardy Boy Husband suggested we take our investigation around the corner to the Milford Family Restaurant to speak to some of the locals.  Good thinking, Hardy Boy Husband!  We talked to one woman who was not excited to speak to us...."I'm from upstate...I don't know anything about the ME church".  We thought our sleuthing was squandered.  But then...Harriett walked in. 

We could tell Harriett was someone we needed to talk to.  Her bleached blonde hair, slightly bent back, big glitzy rings on every finger, and an accent that would put all other Milfordonians to shame.  Oh, yes.  She was our woman.  We gave her time to shrug off her coat and order her glass of tea and the Milford Salad.  Then I approached her. 

I took the porcelain boot and placed it on the table.  In my sweetest voice, I asked if I could interrupt her lunch for a moment; might she know anything about this boot?  She eyed it joyfully, picked it up and flipped it over, looking for some magical sign that would tell her this was a real prize.  I asked her if she knew anyone who might be familiar with this porcelain boot, or the church on its toe.  She thought for a minute and said "Marge".  I asked who Marge was, and Harriett shared that Marge was an 88-year-old member of the ME church on the toe of that boot.  With pen and paper in hand, she wrote down Marge's phone number.  Small towns.  Everyone knows everyone's phone number.  I thanked her kindly, sipped a bit of my own tea, then Hardy Boy Husband and I set out to find some bars...for our phones.  We were in a NO SERVICE AREA.

A block from the restaurant (and quite near an old train station by the way), I got two bars on my phone.  I dialed Marge's number and she answered. 

Whenever a stranger calls and starts relating stories about aunts with porcelain shoes with your church's picture on the toe, folks are leery.  And Marge was leery.  I did the best I could to explain what I had, but she was leery.  After talking for a few minutes, she did give me the name and number of the church's historian of sorts, Jean.  I thanked her and we ended our call. 

I drove a little further down the road and then stopped to call Jean.  I pulled into a parking space and dialed her number.  Answering Machine.  Since I hadn't been successful with Marge, I chose not to leave a message.  We were stumped.  We were out of clues.  We were...in front of the Public Library!

We walked in.  Books everywhere!  A couple of chairs in front of a fire, it was a lovely place to get lost in.  But we weren't lost.  We were on a mission.  Hardy Boy Husband said "whenever you need assistance, go find the big desk".   So we went to the big desk.  Finally the librarian came up to see how she could help us.  We told her our story and she looked at the boot.  She said she had seen something similar somewhere...where was it?  It was in a cabinet in the corner of the library! 

This particular porcelain boot has a picture of the public library painted on it!

So, now we have two boots...same color schemes, Milford landmarks, same numbering pattern on the bottom --- 886-23.  The mystery continues!

Nice librarian lady suggested we talk with a lady named Jeanie.  As it turns out, Jeanie is the same lady that Marge suggested we talk to.  And Jeanie had been at the library an hour ago at book club.  We just missed her!  But we have her number.

Stay tuned for another episode of "THE CASE OF THE TRAVELING BOOT"!

Forty Years?!

I met her in 1971 when I moved from Ozona back to San Angelo.  I can't remember if we were in the same second grade class, but surely we were.  How else would I have met her?  She was the sweetest, prettiest, nicest girl.  Very petite, long brown hair, a button nose.  We became fast friends. 

We shared secrets.  We practically lived at each others' house.  We were together at every turn.  We took vacations together --- riding in the back of a covered pick up truck to Toledo Bend --- taking the bus to Houston to visit family.  Her dad was running red lights trying to get us to the bus station in time in the wee hours of the morning!  If we weren't together, we were on the phone together. 

We made it through elementary school having a crush on the same boy.  We joined junior high together.  We were in the band.  We were editors of the year book.  We both loved Mrs. Alexander.  We made other friends, but WE were besties.

High school arrived.  My dream was for her to marry Steven, me to marry Matt and live next door to each other for ever and always.  (Cue the Garth Brooks song "Sometimes I Thank God for Unanswered Prayers".)  We had some squabbles and grew apart.  We let other people come between us.  We graduated, went our separate ways.  But, there was still a thread that held us together.  We knew each others' secrets, after all. 

Marriages, kids, ups, downs.  We kind of lost touch and didn't share those parts of our lives.  I learned second hand when her children were born, but I rejoiced with her.  We were now "adults" and had "adult lives".  No room for childhood friends?  Sometimes "adults" don't really act all adult like, do they? 

But --- a friendship like ours doesn't die.  It changes.  It adjusts.  It may thin out in spots, but it doesn't die.  Ever. 

The dreams of our childhood didn't work out the way I had envisioned.  We didn't marry Steve and Matt; we don't live next door.  In fact, Ted and I live 21 hours away from she and Kenny, and we haven't seen each other in six years.  Haven't even talked on the phone in about that long.  But, should anyone to ask the name of my best girlfriend, I would instantly say "Connie".  We may have other best friends now, maybe even stronger relationships than we had with each other.  But, no one will be my friend longer, and none of my friendships will ever be as pure as that very first one.  Something just clicked and now we are linked forever.  And our secrets?  They're still safe.

Happy 40th anniversary, my friend.  I love you!

How To Drive a Puppy Crazy

There is a ruckus at my front door.  It's been going on since the sun came out.  Here's the scoop...

Little Robin Red Breast wants in this house.  Bad.  She has been knocking and knocking at the front door all morning.  And the prancing chicken-legged snout hound doesn't like it.  In fact, he doesn't like ANYBODY to knock at the front door.  The doggie alarms go off...there is barking and running and barking and running and more barking - well, you get the picture.  Every time LRRB knocks, PCLSN goes off.  And that has been my reality this morning.

In other news, HALLEJULAH!  Welcome back to work, Mr. Engineer.  You have been missed tremendously!  We praise God that your health has been restored, your energy level recharged and you are ready to hit the ground running.  Expect a mini-celebration tomorrow...complete with a PIG CAKE (recipe from the PW) baked in a very lovely The Cakepan Lady pan!

Ooooh, gotta go!  Someone's knocking...

I am what I am

Did you look for me yesterday?  I was at an "everything you wanted to know about foster parenting but were afraid to ask" meeting, then out to dinner with some friends.  There are still things I want to know about foster parenting, so the journey will continue...through introspection, talks with handsome hubby and prayer. 

I am still introspecting about my own reality...and now I bring you the things that I AM:

1.  I am over-the-top loyal to my family.  God blessed me with a husband who loves me to the moon and back and a stepson has always been easy to parent.  Mess with them, and you mess with me.  And I am pretty formidable when I need to be.

2.  I am an animal lover to the nth degree.  For several years I fostered puppies for our local humane society and helped them find forever homes.  My own prancing chicken-legged snout hound is the light of my life, and we have a lot of fun during the day playing with baby sheep or napping.  My dream job (if I was indepenently wealthy) would be at the doggie day care place patting and playing with the puppies.

3.  I am selfish and self centered.  I told a girlfriend that tonight and she told me I was the least selfish person she knows.  Maybe our definitions are different.  I am tired of my life being all about me.  I would really love to be so busy doing things for other people that I don't have time to worry about myself.

4.  I am a good cook.  I come from a family of good cooks, and I am continuing that tradition.  In the winter I love to make soups and stews; in the summer I love to cook on the grill.  If cooking were a love language, that would definitely be mine.  ALL my love goes into my cooking. 

5.  I am happy.  At this very moment, I am happy.  My blood is pumping, I am listening to the familiar sounds of my home, I have a song in my heart and I have a smile on my face.  I love this place, and there is no where else I want to be. 

Tomorrow my plan is to post a message without using the word "I".  We'll see how it goes...

My Reality

A girlfriend and I were talking the other day about reconnecting with high school classmates on Facebook.  She mentioned that she was overweight in high school and, while people were nice to her, they weren’t clamoring to get to know the real her.  Now that she has lost that weight, she gets Facebook “friend” requests from some of those folks with a typical comment of “wow, you’ve changed so much”.  I could hear the sadness in her voice and I commented “I am so sorry that you had to go through that”.  She said “well, that was my reality”. 

My reality.  Those two words really stuck with me.  My life.  My experiences.  It is what it is.  It is my reality.  So this morning I have been thinking a lot about my own reality – what it is and what it isn’t – what I am and what I am not.  And you know what?  After years and years (and years and years), I now realize that it’s okay for me to be or not be what I am or what I am not.  (Do you need to read that sentence again?)  I have been tried to be the good…the perfect…the smart…the motivated…the liked…the thin…the appreciated…the favorite…and my wheels have just been spinning.  So in a two part series, I present to you who I am and who I am not.  And here is who I am not…

1.  I am not career-minded.  My life path never included a desire to be a powerful career woman.  I always wanted to be a soft, squishy, stay at home mom.  I got the soft and squishy part down, and I stay at home a lot, so I guess three out of four isn’t bad.

2.  I am not the world’s best housekeeper.  Here is my thinking on this – homes are supposed to be comfortable.  I don’t want a designer home with nary a pillow out of place.  I don’t mind if there are glasses on the counter.  When the dog hair gets too out of control, it’s time to act…but not before. 

3.  I am not always happy.  I never know when it is going to hit.  It may come from a dream, from a scent, from an innocent comment.  Grief, loss and depression are tough topics that many people shy away from – “if I ignore it, if I minimize it, maybe it will go away, maybe it won’t be real”.  Oh, it’s real, my friend. 

4.  I am not photogenic.  I wonder why I didn’t get that gene.  I think I look pretty normal in the mirror, but then a camera comes out and one eye is bigger than the other, all my chins want to get in the picture, and my hair does crazy things.  Perhaps I need my own personal Photoshop software…

5.  I am not the favorite - favorite employee, favorite aunt, favorite youth group leader, favorite child, favorite in-law.  Perhaps folks shy away from me because of #2 above.  Or #3.  Perhaps I am reaping what I have sewn. 

6.  I am not as healthy as I would like to be.  Too many extra pounds, a sedentary lifestyle, a love of all things butter.  And chocolate. 

I am certain that there are other things that I am not, but six is a good number to stop on.  Hope you will tune in tomorrow to read about what I am. 

Celebrating with Black Eyed Peas

No, not will.i.am and Fergie, but honest to goodness southern black eyed peas, simmered in chicken broth.  And this cornbread.  And sausage.  On a 'never done THIS before on a New Years Day' whim, my handsome husband and I loaded up the car and drove 2 1/2 hours to the 'Ville.  Shared our vittles with a recently surgeried Seminary student and her daddy.  Later in the evening, we took said dad (AKA our cousin) and went to BW3 for wings and the second half of the Rose Bowl.  Did you see it?  Horned.  Frogs.  Win.  After the game and a bowl of this, handsome husband took the wheel and got us home just minutes before the clock rolled over to the second day of the year.

And speaking of the second day of the year, here is a quick shout out to a very special little lady who is celebrating her very first birthday today.  Love you!

Today found us at church where God spoke through Pastor Pat on Ecclesiastes 3:1-13.  Powerful words this morning and I, for one, am looking forward to making the changes I need to make, living in the moment and recognizing what time it is. 

"We will open the book.  Its pages are blank.  We are going to put words on them ourselves.  The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day." 
                                  ~Edith Lovejoy Pierce