Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Subjectivity at it's finest....

A couple of weeks back I had a golden opportunity to accompany the loveables on a community service event.

(In other words, I was cluster-effed by the bitches ( see Urban Dictionary definition # 4-2 which says this about the word "bitches"... This word can be used as a term of endearment when inserted instead of someone's name) who normally work these Friday events.

They were out farting around on some kind of special weekend trip having all kinds of fun tearing down houses in the searing heat.)

The community service event was to be performed at what used to be the 3rd Police Precinct in Detroit.

The building was sold, bought, then rented by a group of artists.

They have a wonderful plan of making it a space for artists to hone and display their crafts.

No matter what the medium.

When we first arrived we were shown around the room we'd be cleaning. It was pretty well stocked with more than a really big, huge, and gigantic butt-load lot of old crap.

(STOCKED to da gills)

(So much so that one of the great minds behind this undertaking admitted to being Horders, Buried Alive material)

(not a joke by any means)

We were asked to pile the piles in new spots around the huge building.

Most of the salvaged "treasures" proved to be much too heavy, dusty, sharp, peculiar shaped, odd colored, moldy, broken, dead spider containing for me to handle on my own, so I mainly just supervised.

And talked to the couple of artists that were there working.

One of the artists worked in sculptures, the loveables and I oohed and ahhhed over his work.

One of the other artists described himself to be multi-diciplined.

He laughed when I told him that I was an art teacher's worst nightmare... not an ounce of talent in any art form.

"I pretty much do all my charcoals, colored pencil, water-color and acrylics, etc using different sized sticks to make up the people".

(That was a stretch to describe the crude markings as "people")

I also told him I've been known to turn out an acceptable, one deminsional flower, namely a tulip (because that is the only flower I  know how to depict) every now and then.

(That was a stretch too)

The artist told me that he also sometimes draws people using sticks.

He asked if I'd like a piece of his artwork.

He rooted around the place for a few minutes and came back with a colored pencil drawing done on what looked like a torn off chunk of a paper bag.

He had it numbered and everything.


out of 100.

I was stoked, I'd not even so much as ever talked to someone who worked as a real live artist, let alone received an original, numbered piece.

He even signed it too.

I wasn't sure if I should curtsey or genuflect or offer him a *Jackson when he presented me with it.

I excitedly told my lovable thugs about what I'd been given and they all asked to see it.

With the artist proudly watching, I held it out in my hand.

One of the loveables picked it up, scrutinized it for a second or two, chuckled, loud and long, then remarked.... "geeze, is this guy just starting out, or what?"

I went and dove, head first, into the nearest, rodent droppings filled old oil barrel I could find and patiently waited for my scarlet colored cheeks to right themselves.

*for all you filthy minded people who imagined a "Jackson" being some "unclean" action or deed or something just plain nasty and inappropriate, shame on you, a Jackson is nothing more than a twenty dollar bill.

Friday, May 25, 2012

A true love story has no end....trois

She reached for his hand and held on for dear life.

The car rolled over at least twice.

The windows had to be kicked out in order to pull him away from the wreck.

She had to be cut out of the vehicle.

By the grace of the Good Lord, they survived.

Time marched on, and through good times and bad they stayed true to one another.

Relied on each other, cared for one another.

Their children grew up and gave them grandchildren who grew up and gave them great grand children...

In October of this year they will celebrate 56 years as husband and wife.

55 + years... now that's a huge accomplishment.

To this day they continue to finish each other's sentences.

She dotes on him and he has no doubt that he is adored beyond measure.

That goes for his affection for her as well, there's never been anyone else above her.

When she's near him she can't help but brush his thick hair back, and all the while he's looking at her with the sappiest, brightest blue eyes you've ever seen.

Hours have turned to days, days into weeks, weeks to months, months to years... an entire lifetime of loving one another has served them both well.

When the sun sets these days and she's tucking him in for the night he puckers up and she gently kisses his lips.

He is 90 years young.

She is...well, it's not really considered polite to tell a lady's age, so I won't.

Before the lights go out she lovingly caresses his forehead and kisses that too.

She always says to him " good night, I'll see ya in the morning"

He now replies, "you may not"....

"I may not WHAT...?!!!!" she responds.

"You may not see me in the morning" he says.

"What are you talking about?!!!" she demands "you're not going anywhere without me !!!!"

You may be wondering how this beautiful love story is going to end... ???

It isn't ever going to end.

Because real, true love stories never do.

****Marie and Martin (Marty) Janas your beautiful and unique love story has been (and continues to be) an inspiration to all who have been lucky enough to witness it.

I love you !!! 

And I thank you both from the bottom of my heart for the example you've shown to me and to the rest of the world about "how to do it right".

My husband thanks you too.

May God continue to bless your special union and the both of you.


Wednesday, May 23, 2012

A true love story has no end...part duex

Read the first part of this story HERE

He was calling to ask her out.

Come with me to an Initiation Party for the Veterans of Foreign War, he asked.

On the phone he also asked her to bring along her sister.

Ahh, she thought, he's not interested in me, he wants to get closer to my sister.

It's nothing like that, he insisted.

There would be lots of nice, single guys at the dance, maybe she'd meet a good one.

Her sister politely declined saying she'd hate to interfere with their reunion.

She pestered her sister and told her that she wouldn't go alone to the dance.

She worked her over and didn't stop until she finally changed her mind and agreed to accompany them.

While there Theresa was asked to dance by a nice young man named Mike.

A good choice.

One, that as of this writing, has lasted for 54 years.

Of course, if you happen to be a hopeless romantic like me, you probably think you know just where this is going.

And you are probably going to be right.

The beautiful young girl and her handsome suitor did fall deeper in love.

They dated for two years before he asked her father for her hand in marriage.

He got down on one knee and basically begged the man.

She watched as her dad answered this most important question "why do you only want her hand?" her father said "take ALL of her !!"... funny now, she says, but at the time she wanted to die of embarrassment.

Her dad defended his actions by saying some comic relief was needed.

She was 18.

He, a mature 34 when they married.

Over the years they welcomed into their lives a total of six children.

Three girls, three boys.

They worked hard as a team, he, sometimes working three jobs at one time in order to support them.

She did her share too, caring for the children and making his home his palace.

Never was there such a meticulous homemaker, she's been known to say that her home is her "crowning glory".

And what a lovely glory it was.

It was a place he was always so glad to come home to.

Their love story hasn't been all fairytale, certainly they had their fair share of great times but they also suffered more heartache than any family should bear.

They buried a daughter before her seventh month.

And later would suffer the loss of a beloved granddaughter.

But time and time again they proved that together they could weather any storm.

Their teenaged children like to tell tale of all the time the two of them spent in the bedroom... something that made the kids red faced and tickled pink all at the same time.

Who could say that after all those years their parents still wanted to spend time together in the bedroom..?

(And no, they were not sleeping).

Their romance was the part that keep everyone watching, to watch them dance was definition of poetry in motion.

In perfect sync, he leads and she follows.

Life moves swiftly, it ebbs, it flows.

Good follows bad follows good... and on it goes.

During a cross-country road trip to Arizona the children nearly lost them both.

She was behind the wheel, he resting in the passenger seat next to her.

A truck driver playing a game of chicken kicked off a chain reaction that would cause their car and trailer to dangerously fishtail.

While she fought to keep the car on the road he did all he could from where he sat.

When he knew that the car was going over the edge of the road he screamed to her "give me your hand, we're going over".

To be continued.....

Monday, May 21, 2012

A true love story has no end....

They met at her uncle's wedding. Her uncle was marrying his sister. He danced with her and all the other single girls at the wedding making quite an impression on them all.

Later that night she would tell her mother that he was the man she was going to marry someday.

Her mother dismissed her comment, "shussh up and go to bed" she said, shaking her head.

Silly little girl... she was only 8 years old.

And the handsome man she had her eye on was 24.

He began dating her older sister making the little girl so angry she stopped speaking to her sister.

When he'd been around the family long enough to reach "he really is a nice guy" status he realized that his interest had been misplaced.

By this time the young lady was 16 years old.

They began dating, but she thinks that his mother was worried about her young age and told her son so.

He gave the relationship a break, six months went by with no contact.

She mourned the loss and refused to look at another man.

One day he placed a call to her neighbor's phone, the neighbor ran across the street to get her.

"Someone is on the phone for you" the neighbor said.

"Who?" she asked.

"Who have you been waiting for?" her neighbor replied.

She leapt across the bed and bounded across the street where she couldn't get to the phone fast enough.

Life for him, just hadn't been the same, without her.

..... to be continued

Thursday, May 17, 2012

A formula for successful writing...

Work is trying to kill me... I'll be back in a few days (hopefully)

I read this today and finally figured out what it is that I'm going to do with the next 10 years (or so) of my life...

The Groupon Guide to: Writing a Novel....

Cut and pasted (below for your reading pleasure)

(Swear-word Thomas perspective, who would I pick, oh who will I pick??...hilarious)


The Groupon Guide to: Writing a Novel

With the economy in its current state, the most fiscally responsible plan of action is to quit your job to write a novel for teens that adults will read. Here, then, are all the bones that make up the skeleton of a good novel:
• Narration
Your book will need a narrator. Your book can be…

1st Person Perspective: Told from the point of view of the first character you come up with 

3rd Person Perspective: Told from the point of view of the weakest of three triplets

Swear-word Thomas Perspective: Told from the point of view of town character, Swear-word Thomas
• Inciting Incident
Your book needs a moment that starts off the story. It can be when…

The mayor declares being in love illegal in this proud Space Station 

The family needs someone to fetch Lilly’s medicine from the capital, but Pa’s in the ground and Ma’s got the Fester Leg. Looks like it’s up to bookish little Tabitha Greenwood!

The tornado gains sentience and a hatred of humanity after colliding with the computer factory
• Plot Structure
Your book needs a plot structure. It can be…
We learn about the characters in their pleasant if boring lives until the bad thing happens. The main person is sad about the bad thing but resolves to change it. They try to have some success but then something related to the main person’s main flaw makes the bad thing way worse than ever. Then something even worse happens. The main person wants to give up but through the power of not giving up fixes the bad thing and falls in love with the person they overlooked in favor of the hot person who turned out to be bad or neutral. They are happy in the end. 

Nothing Else
• An About the Author Photo
Your About the Author photo should contain at least three of the following:

Unkempt Hair
Black TurtleneckTypewriter (symbolizes writing) 

A Rocky Beach
A Labrador
Thick Eyebrows

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

The difficult years..birth to present

I had a beautiful Mother's Day and I hope if you're a mom that you did too.

Buttercup and his Mrs came over on Saturday with a balloon, a mushy card, and cupcakes Mrs Buttercup had made.

(When I peeled back the foil and looked at them my (not so) "poker face" must have spoken volumes... WOW, these are very nice (incredibly plain) and unfrosted yellow cupcakes. WT-frick??? I leaned in to smell them in order to understand WHY my daughter in law would so proudly gift me with unfrosted cupcakes... now, the kid's no Ellie Mae Clampet by any means, but she was mysteriously very proud of the cupcakes...they were beautifully shaped, even plain they looked like they would taste great)

When I broke one in half to eat it I discovered the middle was filled with chocolate frosting...

Oh how I love a surprise, chocolate filled middle...

Mrs Buttercup also brought me a vase she made. A clear glass hurricane vase that was decorated with painted sticks that she picked up from the woods near her home.

She saw it on Pinterest and made one for her mom and I for Mother's Day.

I'm a sucker for vases, I'm a sucker for natural branches (of any size)...  I put a candle in it and then did what any good mother would do...I sent an email picture to Googie's phone letting her know that she'd been replaced as my number one girl.

Since it was Saturday that gave Googie one more shopping day to try and "one up" her sister in law..

Ohhhh how I do love me a good game of "who loves mother best?"

teee heeeeeee

Googie, Bear and Trouble came bearing awesome (over priced Hallmark) cards and gifts on Sunday.

Bear's card was hilarious...on the front it had a picture of a red-faced screaming baby and said "Mom, Thanks for raising me during my difficult years." on the inside "Birth to Present" ...

I cackled when I read that. How freakin true, every damn day we're mothers there is potential for a new challenge, the difficult years are often Birth to Present.. and seriously, who ever said it would be easy?

I am convinced that mothering is what I was born to do and what a validation to have three kids (plus two bonus kids) who tell you by words and deeds that they think you did it right.

Better than all the tea in China I tell ya.

PS... I'd better gush and brag and tell you that Googie and Bear bought me a pedicure for Mum's day. Trouble got me a card (JUST FROM HIM..WOW-ZA) and he and Googie got me some neat Elvis memorabilia, a dazzling spawk-ley copper diamond dusted bracelet (ohh she does know bracelets make my heart spaw-kle and sing songs of utter spaw-kley-ness). Googie also got me a small bird that sits on it's butt with it's little spindly stick legs and feet sticking straight forward, I put it on my windowsill and smile every time I see it.

PSS.. the real crack up here is that they didn't have to do a damn thing for me and I'd still know they love me and I know they appreciate me...even when I'm not helping them through the "difficult years"and their lives are hunky-dory and they don't need me for jack they still love ME and appreciate ME... they don't have to spend one red cent for me to know how loved I am.

I appreciate the things they do for me, really I do, but I must say that as long as they're happy and healthy and living a good life...that's all this mother needs to have a happy mother's day..it really is as simple as that.

(that said, you should SEE my bracelet, it's divine)

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Blake Shelton - God Gave Me You (Official Video) FOR MARMIE..

Dear Marmie...

Country music star Blake Shelton wrote a beautiful song (It was written for his "woman", but I don't care, most of the words of this song can be said about how I feel about you).

(Just for the record I'm not a walkin heartache...not today anyway)

(you have to click on the corner "watch on YouTube" buttheads... In order to see/hear it, I would have re-done the whole post, but I had to go rub Daddio's feet, yeah I know it's Mother (tee-hee) Day and all, and he sure can be a mutha..especially today, he "helped" by doing the wash and shrunk my two (quite new) white shirts... I screamed so loud he thought I was being murdered, then I went nearly homicidal and hurt his feelings and he was sad, which made me have to apologize and kiss his rear for about a half hour..which had me thinking I really married a cleaver man, he shrinks my clothes and I end up worshipping him and making him a special breakfast, after the shabby way I treated him, I owed him that at least...whoa boy, yes I did, okay, sure, whatever you say...)


God gave me you Marmie...

Blessed beyond measure.

Here is a letter we sent you many, many moons ago (my spelling has gotten a bit better over the years)

The prettiest, most wonderful mother God ever gave to three (plus 3 bonus) lucky kids..



Friday, May 11, 2012

Lawsuits and low cal sandwiches....

It's been a rough week being Bear's mom.

My darling baby boy has been promoted to manager of his department.

It's huge people...huge.

He's the boss...wow

He's also so full of himself that the buttons on his (dress) shirt are ready to pop...

"Yep, no more cleaning toilets for me" he boasts.

"No more scoopin poop for this guy"

His kill-joy mother (that would be me) responds..

"What the hell happens when your one, single, solitary employee calls off sick...?"

"You'll be pushing up those sleeves and goin back to humble beginnings..."

"Maybe you'd better invest in some dark brown dress shirts...."

(oh man, I do so entertain myself sometimes)

This is his first week as the BOSS and his first customer has threatened to take him to court.

And to make matters worse... his first lunch as a big ol Bossman wasn't up to snuff either.

The morning of his first day as the man in charge started out perfectly, Bear showered, I iron his clothes, rubbed his stressed out shoulders, ran up and down the stairs to gather his dress pants, made sure I coached him on how to properly answer the phone, spray starched and pressed an impressive seam in his stone colored Dockers, reminded him that outstanding customer service always involves a brown nose and some big (kissy) lips... (pucker up baby, u gonna be kissin some rear...)...

As this preparation was going on I was also busily doing my other (1950's homemaker wifely) duties.. getting Daddio "ready" for work.

As I lovingly prepared a lunch for the Lord and Master of our castle, his little chip off the ol block said (AND I QUOTE) "You don't need to make me a sandwich Ma, I can do it myself"

(well I know you can honey, but what is a helicopter mamma to do when her baby starts acting like a grown up and begins to take care of himself..?)

I already had the bread sitting on the counter, being the nice guy that I am I put it into a baggie to keep it fresh, and I hollered that very important titbit to Bear.

Later as he told the story about his first customer and her threat to sue him he thanked me for the delicious sandwich.

"Ohhh and MA, I really want to thank you for the bread, it was great. I was so hungry at lunch and those two plain slices of bread really hit the spot".

"Oh sheeeeee's sent me with that same exact sandwich" Daddio (the Peanut Gallery ring leader) piped up and shared.

"No, your sandwich wasn't plain bread, you had a booger on your's".... his Stepford wife replied.

Passive aggressiveness at it's absolute finest folks.

Most days I really love this job...tee-hee

Wednesday, May 9, 2012

Kitten Love....

You may have heard the story about Googie and her kitty. I've probably told it lots of times (cut me some slack... I'm in my really, really, really, super late forties, and people that old forget lots of things they say and write, so bear with me, k?).

When Googie was a wee tot (about 4 or so) she began to beg Daddio and I for a kitten.

Daddio is not really fond of cats, and he and The Sweet Prince Buttercup are sometimes allergic to them as well so that was always the debate closer...

"Sorry kid, no cat".

"You can get a cat when you grow up and live in your own house"

"But Daaaaa-deeeeee, I want a kitty when I'm still a little girl" she begged, her small dimpled hands clasped prayer style.

"Please Daaaaaa-deeee, Please?"

"Don't make me wait till I'm a big girl Daaaa-deeee, please, please, please don't make me wait that long for a kitty, Daddy please don't"

Alrighty then...

A week or two after that last conversation, Daddio,

(totally securing his position as a for-ever -and- ever hero in his five year old daughter's eyes)

 was finally worn to a mere pile of mush by Googie's begging and pleading...

 he caved and got the kid a cat.

A kitten actually, a beautiful, gentle souled creature, hand chosen by Daddio and who captured Googie's heart before she was even picked up out of the box he brought her home in.

Googie delighted in caring for her new baby and was rewarded by a fierce loyalty.

The kitty loved Googie more than anyone.

As Googie grew older and was away from home more the kitty mostly took it in stride and would only occasionally get angry and bite Googie's toes as she slept, a reminder, should she ever forget, that she had a bed mate who loved her dearly.

Destiny, lovin mothering, and some good cat genes have allowed Googie's kitty to live a looooong life

She turned a whoppin 20 years old the other day.

Hailey didn't move with Googie when she and Trouble married. Cats, especially old cats do better staying in a familiar environment and the old girl loves to spend hours laying on Googie's windowsil watching the neighbors (now that's a pastime....).

I feed her and water her and pat her old bony back, she gotten quite frail lately so I don't pick her up much anymore.

The old kitty still and for-ever-more loves best a special visitor who gathers her up for a cuddle and never, ever lets her forget how loved and precious she is.

Happy Birthday Hailey... (and thank you so much for being the best kitten ever and my best girl's best girl)

Hailey turns the big 2-0

PS... Googie's superhero Daddy is celebrating a birthday today.. he's a bit past 20. Wish him a good one if you are so inclined. 


Sunday, May 6, 2012

Ellen Reads '50 Shades of Grey'

Ohh Ellen.....

Ellen was asked to read and review 50 Shades of Grey (all the rage amongst middle aged women)

After watching this, I'm caught between "oh hell no" and "what the frick?"...

How bout you..? Will this book make your summer reading list?

A Song for Mom - Mother's Day Symphony (Official)......

A week from now, on the official Mother's Day (Hallmark) holiday you'll probably be so busy chillaxin on the davenport with your feet up in the air eating Godiva chocolates by the fist full, thumbing through the latest Cosmo (or maybe in your bed reading Fifty Shades of Grey....tee-hee) that you'll forget to stop by.. in case you do forget I'm posting this early. It's something every mother everywhere can relate to.

( I've survived all that crap, just listening to it drove a {{{shiver}}}} up my spine...)

(A special "thanks" to my step dad GG for sending it to me)

Happy Mother's Day...!!!!


Wednesday, May 2, 2012

At least for today....

"Mom, I hate school"

"If getting a college degree was easy, everyone would have one"

"I'm quitting Mom. None of my friends go and they all make more money than I do"

"I'm going to be going to school for the next 10 years"

"Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration?"

"I'm not going to pass Biology. The teacher was as dumb as a rock, the grades should have been posted days ago. I'm going to write her an email telling her just what I think of her. She was the worst teacher I've ever had"

"You may want to wait until she posts your grade."

"I wouldn't burn any bridges if I were you"

"What if you have to take another of her classes?"

"I'm quitting school, remember"

"I'll be eighty before I graduate...too old to work, what will be the point.?

"Isn't that a bit of an exaggeration?"

"I have too many more classes to take, this is never, ever going to end, and I'm going to fail Biology. If the grades ever get posted. As soon as she posts my grade she's getting an email from me telling her what kind of rotten teacher she is"

"Don't send anything threatening, I don't want the cops on our doorstep"

"I hate school Mom, I've always hated school"

"Yeah, I know, that's why you're becoming a teacher"

"I'm quitting school Mom, quitting, I'll work full time and make more than a teacher makes anyway. All that schooling. Like 47 years and I'll only make around $25 grand a year, I can make that as a porter"

"I think you'll make a bit more than that son. People with college degrees always make more than those without"

"Steve Jobs quit college"

"Mark Zuckerberg was a dropout,  and you can see where those two went"

"Other than quitting school, do you have some big ideas floating around in your head that could potentially make you a millionaire?"

"You do anything you put your mind to kid,  you doubt yourself too much"

"Quit the pep talk Mom"

"I'm quitting school"

You can see dear readers why I've been absent lately. I can't come home and when I do I've been hiding out.

Each and every time Bear sees me we have the conversation (or some really close variation of the same conversation) above.

He's quitting school.

His Biology grade finally came in. (That lazy no good fer nuttin crummy azz teaching "impostor" finally posted the grades).


He passed.

Thank God, he passed.

Poo poo pee doooooo.....

He scheduled his next semester's classes...which means that toooo-day, he is not quitting.

We've (yes, I'm in this too) still got about ohhh maybe 102 semesters to go until he graduates.

And becomes an underpaid teacher who hates school and kids and his life, or not.....

Life with an oscillating pessimist,