However, it has gas. It farts, regularly. I could be sitting there (like right now), just watching CNN and talking to #4 about when he needs to be at school for his basketball game and up pops this weird little memory.

I was 20 years old, and working at Golden Corral as a waitress. This was before it became Buffet Central, and had actual waitresses that actually brought you food and stuff. Anyway, I suddenly remembered this one busy night and there was this young man who’d obviously brought a young woman with him on a date. And I completely forgot about them. They were sitting at one of my tables and the entire time, after I’d brought them their food, I neglected them. I never refilled their tea, asked them if their food was right, nothing. Every time I remember that I wonder if their date was ruined. Was I the inadvertent and neglectful cause of her getting pissed off and refusing to ever go out with him again? What if he was planning to ask her to marry him, but the mood was ruined by lack of iced tea?
Dear Fellow Who’s Date I Possibly Ruined, I am sorry. I could make excuses and say things like “we were really busy” but I could have found 30 seconds to ask if your steak was ok and did you need more iced tea.

That is the kind of random memory my brain throws out there now and then.

I remember working at Piece Goods, a local fabric store. I was measuring some elastic for a customer, and didn’t pay attention too well, and stretched her elastic as I was measuring it, so she didn’t get as much as she was paying for. I cheated a customer. What is she was making a special garment for someone? What if it didn’t work out right because she didn’t have enough elastic? What if she couldn’t afford to buy another piece of elastic? Dear Person I Cheated, I am sorry. I hope I wasn’t the cause of a ruined garment that resulted in you not having a pretty dress to give your niece or you having an appropriate outfit for a job interview.

Where does this stuff come from?

Now, I don’t beat myself up over giving inadequate service 27 years ago. But my brain, she is a random and silly twit sometimes.

Does your brain ever do that, and throw out something random and completely unconnected to anything going on around you?

Having done that, it was time to sit down and figure out how to embroider. It came with what appeared to be software that would allow me to take any True-Type font and embroider with it. I could also apparently take an image, (perhaps a drawing) and convert it to an embroidery program. Nice, right? There was a USB stick in the box that would let me do all this stuff on the computer, then put it on the USB stick (they call it a dongle, which makes me giggle in a 12 year old boy kind of way) and plug it into the sewing machine and get to work.

Only, I can’t get the dongle to do it’s thing. It just dangles. (didja see what I just did there? *snort). So, I called the handy dandy 1-800 number on the package.
Ronald the Indian Software Tech: “Oh no, that’s not the dongle. That’s the built in programs you can use immediately. To get the dongle you have to buy the software.”
Me: “But I have software.”
RIST: “No, you have the software that lets you view the images, not actually USE the images. you have to buy the software for that.”
Me: “What.”
He: “You need to contact your dealer about purchasing the software.”
Me: (polite Southern euphemism for What The Hell)

So, having just written checks to the local university for tuition and fees and books within the past week, I realized that buying a fancypants sewing machine is much like that.

You have tuition fees (the sewing machine) which get you in the door. Then, you can attend classes (sew straight lines and make buttonholes). However, if you want to actually use the education (sewing machine) to it’s full benefit, you have to buy textbooks (software) that isn’t actually included in the cost of tuition (sewing machine).

I interpret this as kind of a scam/ racket sort of thing. So. I have to spend $400 on software, which will get me the basic package and a dongle. If I want to fancy stuff up a bit, perhaps do shaped monograms or cross stitch or digitize an image, that will cost more- to the tune of $1200. I can buy the basic package and add units (cross stitch, monogramming, digitizing) on later, which I will as I sell stuff. I made a deal with Terry, for him to buy the software for me and in exchange I will do some embroidery on work uniforms for him, as well as some other stuff.

But still…Kinda misleading there, Husqvarna Viking, putting that viewing software in there and making it seem like I could do something more with it. You’d be better off, in my opinion, upping the price by $400 and already having it ready to go.

1 week old

That's him on the left

Dear Will,
I am proud of you.
You’re interesting, well read, and have well thought out opinions. I can start thinking of you more as a peer now, and less as a child of mine. Be patient, that will take some doing to change the thought patterns of the past 24 years, but it will come. I value your opinions, even when I don’t agree with them.
I look forward to watching you through the next few years, as you go through higher education and get a real handle on what you intend to do with the rest of your life. I’ve never had a child to proceed through this process, so I don’t know what to expect. This is a truth about your life that has always been there. Congratulations, you’re my trailblazer.
However, I will always be your Mom. I will always grumble about your dietary habits, feel inclined to feed you cheese and nuts (Dude! You need some CALORIES!) and worry that you aren’t sleeping enough. It’s what Moms do, you should be used to it by now.
Anyway, Happy 24th Birthday.
I love you!
Mom

Go ahead, read it.

Then let’s take the whole thing to a natural conclusion so we can all be Nazis and indulge ourselves in eugenics so we’ll be The Perfect World With Perfect People.

It is not a world I wish to belong to.

I was on top of a a plateau, like a butte sort of thing with steep cliffs on 3 sides and a smooth grassy slope on the 4th side. I was sitting at a small folding table, like the one I had as a child, and on the table was a plate full of piping hot biscuits and cornbread muffins. I have a big lump of butter and was buttering up those biscuits and cornbread, excited to have something delicious for a snack!

Then a helicopter flies overhead! And another one! One of them is a gunship, all bristling and mean looking. It lands first and a bunch of soldiers dressed in blue uniforms with white helmets and (??) white guns jump out and establish a perimeter while the second helicopter that looks like the one the President flies in lands inside the perimeter. One of the soldiers walks over to me while I am buttering a cornbread muffin and tells me I have to leave.

“But my muffins! My biscuits! They’re hot and the butter is melting and I am hungry!” I cry.
“I am sorry, ma’am, but you have to leave right now.”

I am not happy because all along I thought this was MY butte and my house is right there at the bottom of the slope and how DARE they interrupt my snack!

But I leave anyway, grumping the entire time. I do not know why I didn’t take the plate of muffins and biscuits with me, but I left them on the table and went to my little house.

When I got there, I noticed my vegetable garden needed weeding and the white picket gate was hanging a little crooked.

Then a Senator (I don’t know which one, they’re all the same anyway) arrived, with a cadre of the blue uniformed soldiers, and we had a chat about organic gardening. Then he left.

I decided to get my biscuits and muffins anyway, even if i had to be sneaky about it. So I put harnesses on my 4 dogs (Sally, a rat terrier we had for about 2 weeks in 1993; Lucy, a pointer we had for 10 years from 1994 to 2004, when she died of old age; a golden lab we’ve never had, and a cocker spaniel we’ve also never had) and I went to the cliff side of the butte and started climbing, straight up that cliff with the dogs scrabbling along behind me. Sally the rat terrier climbed over my head and reached the top first. Then the golden lab retriever pushed me from behind. Lucy tried, but was too old to make it and I told her to wait at the bottom, likewise the cocker spaniel.

We were very near my table of snacks, and I was hopeful that they were still warm. Sally the terrier bounced over to the soldiers and distracted them while I ate a muffin and gave the golden lab a biscuit. They were indeed still warm! The soldiers came over and told me I had to go back down the way I came up, and I said I would leave as soon as I was finished with my muffin.

Then I woke up.

Here’s what I think about this dream:
I love buttered bread. Buttered bread is bad for me, especially when I’d like to lose 50 pounds.
The butte/plateau represent my life, and the comfortable place I am in right now.
The helicopters and soldiers represents The Food Police, or perhaps my subconcious, which is trying to tell me to put the biscuit DOWN.
The Senator is my brain making up an excuse (other than biscuits) for there to be a helicopter.
The weedy garden and crooked gate are the aspects of my life that could use some improving.
The climb up the cliff is my selfish side, that is resenting being told what to do (PUT DOWN THE BISCUIT) and will go to any lengths to do what I damn well please.
Lucy(the pointer) was an extremely sweet tempered dog, and she shows up in my dreams frequently. It is comforting to see her there, as if she’s telling me she’s doing great.
I don’t know why Sally (the terrier) was there. Usually when a dog is in my dreams it’s either Lucy or Rosy (the wee dachshund we had to put down a couple of years ago. I still tear up when I think of her.)

And more symptoms (I love to overshare!)
A runny nose means clogged up ears. Mouth breathing due to congestion results in burping, which results in popping ears due to cloggedness, which actually feels kinda good in a sick sort of way, like that feeling you get when you stretch and your joints pop in an alarming manner. So I sit here in the recliner, with a bag of pretzels and a cup of hot coffee, cracking and popping, burping and rolling my jaw around to try and clear my ears. Everyone else is mumbling and i can’t hear anything. “How come the volume is turned up so high, Mom?” Every now and then I’ll hold my nose and mouth shut and blow, popping the ears a little bit painfully but it created a few minutes of better hearing. Mucinex helps loosen everything up, but those things are horse pills and it’s difficult to swallow them with a tender throat.

I am, kinda thankfully, not alone in this disease. Will (he’s nearly 24) and #4 (12) also have it. I doped #4 up on Dayquil and sent him to school. Oh I know, there will be people going “TSK” and accusing me of abuse and how awful it is that I am willing to risk the health of the other 20 kids in his class etc etc…but I am SICK and in no mood to deal with yet another person snuffling and blowing and touching my stuff. Will stayed in bed until 11 and now I hear him banging around upstairs, groaning and snorting and making disgusting noises that probably involve mucus and the sink drain.

Disease makes me hungry. I could go for salty foods like french fries and pretzels right now. They feel so good going down a scratchy throat. The day before yesterday, when that ominous tickle began in the back of my throat, I put together and excessively garlicky crock pot of chicken soup. Garlic and pepper, that’s what’s in order. And salt. Technically I am not to have salt, due to high blood pressure and kidney issues, but…I need it. And so it is. 2 gallons of garlic chicken soup. how much garlic? Almost more than chicken. An entire head of garlic was roasted, mashed and added, as well as a very heaping spoonful (soup spoon, not dainty wimpy teaspoon) of minced garlic from the jar. Yes, my pores reek of garlic but I’m not exactly in a Love Fifi kind of mood anyway.(refer to the tissues littering the floor and panty liners)

20 years ago, when the boys were really little, getting sick was Not An Option. They went to day care one day a week (Friday) so I could buy groceries, have lunch with Terry, and spend time doing something without interruption. Occasionally they would bring home some contagious disease and I would fill the bathtub with Lysol and hold them by their heels to dunk them in it give them a good bath with Dial soap, a dose of vitamin C and wash all the toys down with bleach water. It worked pretty well and Terry and I didn’t get sick. I guess I’ve gotten slack with all that. David (22) was sick a couple of weeks ago, and beyond asking him to wash his hands and relieving him of kitchen responsibilities, I didn’t do much. Maybe I should have. Oh well.

There are things I have learned over the years of dealing with minor diseases. I will list them here for your edification. You’re welcome.

1. Puffs Plus tissues (the ones with the lotion in them) will go through the laundry intact. This means 2 things: you can recycle them (they’re even softer the 2nd time around) and you’d be wise not to flush them if you have a septic tank. They also come through a dachshund puppy’s digestive system relatively intact, which is kind of weird.
2. Chicken soup really IS good for a cold. Extra salt, extra pepper, extra extra garlic. Parsley is high in vitamin C so add that. Make it in a crock pot so you don’t have to watch it. Use brown rice instead of white so it doesn’t turn weird and gloppy. Use boneless skinless breasts so you don’t have to fool with anything. Just throw them in there.
3. Lemon ginger tea. I cannot stress this enough. It’s amazing on a sore throat, clears the sinuses, and you can taste it even though you are completely clogged up.
4. It’s kind of pointless to do around disinfecting everything once you’re sick,especially if others in the household are sick as well. HOWEVER, after everyone is feeling better, Bleach Stuff! Wash pillows, sheets, blankets in hot hot water and bleach them (especially the pillows and sheets) if you can. If, like me, you’re on a septic tank and bleach is bad for it, get a box of Rid-Ex and flush it the next day. It is amazing how much better you’ll feel knowing your bedding is clean. I have a vivid imagination and when we’ve been sick,I can see the germs crawling around on my pillow. It looks like ComicCon and makes me nervous. Use Lysol spray on surfaces you can’t wash, like doorknobs, counters, sinks and toilets, and don’t forget the door frames that people grab when they swing around a corner.
5. Also- Zicam. It works. It alters your tastebuds so everything tastes like metal, but it also (for me) takes a cold that would last 7-10 days and have me wretchedly miserable for 5 of those days and shortens it to 5 days and only mildly uncomfortable. Follow the directions, take one every 3 hours and don’t drink anything for 15 minutes after taking it. (this is an uncompensated endorsement)

I am very thankful that I got the house all tidied up after Christmas, because now the stuff that needs disinfecting is fairly minimal, since all the crap decorations and piles have been put away.

For now however, I am sitting in the chair with a hot cup of coffee, listening to my ears pop with congestion, mouth breathing, and throwing tissues in the general direction of the trash can. Rusty will keep things tidy for me. If only he had thumbs and could fix me some soup…

3 days ago it got down to 19 degrees. I put the potted orange trees in the tool shed with a light to keep them warm.
Everyone put an extra blanket on their beds, I turned the thermostat down to 65F to keep from spending an extra $zillion on the power bill.
We wore socks and fleecy pullovers.
We ate chili and rice, drank hot chocolate, and made lots of noise about how cold it was.

Today? 3 days later? It’s 74F. I put the top down on the car after church.
We’re drinking iced tea and the windows are all open.
We’re wearing t-shirts and taking walks outside.
I saw frogs in the ditch water.

People are complaining about how warm it is….I’m like…ARE YOU SERIOUS??
This is WHY I LIVE HERE! The weather around here is fabulous 9 months out of the year. It’s warm enough to wear long sleeved t-shirts with snowflakes on them for Christmas, because buying a cheesy holiday sweater is pointless, as it’s rarely cool enough to wear one.
We have MAYBE 2 weeks of really cold (yes, my friend in North Dakota, I know not of what I speak) that requires preparation of clam chowder and wearing of thick socks…I own 1 pair of thick socks and 2 fleecy pullovers.

The other 3 months of the year it’s blazingly hot with temperatures approaching or exceeding 100F and humidity >90%. It’s why God invented air conditioning and shopping malls and Sonic Slushes.

But for 9 months, it’s pure heaven. Only not really.

Honestly it’s a terrible place to live. Don’t move here. Really. Terrible. Housing prices are incredible unreal. It’s Georgia. Remember that movie from the 1970′s…Deliverance? That happened in North Georgia. Do you want to live in a state where that happens. Of course not. Then there’s Atlanta, that scary city where you can get the best Thai food outside of New York City Cynthia McKinney presides. And it has I-285 with Ladders. (that’s the Perimeter, and it’s famous for ladders falling off handyman trucks and creating a hazard. it’s also a bit like driving a really huge NASCAR track…)

Which brings me to another point. The entertainment in the Deep South is fabulous questionable. You can watch cars hurl themselves around dirt tracks in nearly every town. If they’re not trying to drive fast in circles, they’re deliberately trying to crash into each other, or trying to see who can reach the end of the local landing strip first without blowing themselves up. Or they’re shooting harmless woodland creatures and eating them. You’ll NEVER get a straight answer out of ANYONE about what goes into their special recipe Brunswick Stew…so don’t ask, just enjoy because it’s delicious.

Which brings me to another point. Culinarily speaking, the Deep South is painfully simple. Pork, legumes, greenery, butter. That’s about it. The pork can be cooked, sauced, baked, smoked or boiled with the legumes (field peas, butter beans, lima beans, crowder peas, black eyed peas, peanuts) and the greens (turnips, mustards, collards, cabbage) and that is it. That’s the extent of Southern Culinary Culture.
Who wants that? To die of pork overload? So don’t come here.

See, even with the splendid weather (we say “if you don’t like the weather, give it a day or two, it will change”), the Deep South is a fantastic TERRIBLE place to live!

January is an eventful month for anniversaries for the 2 of us.

I met him in January, 27 years ago. He was wearing white tennis shorts OMG…THEM LEGS!
We decided to get married in January, 26 years ago. He announced that he was obligated to marry me since I’d spent the night (I’d had too much to drink to do any driving) at his apartment. I said Ok. Then we dated.
Our first child was born in January, 24 years ago.
We don’t believe in wasting time, y’all.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Daddio!!