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Friday, August 31, 2007
First Day Of School !!! A couple of hours ago Kelly officially began her elementary school career.
Kelly and Ali were in same class at pre-school for the past 3 years. At
this new school they're in different classes but they'll still see each other a lot, at recess and P.E. and such.
Yay to the new school year!!! And yay to the new friends we're making !!!!!
Yes, Ali's a very tall 6 and if you haven't guessed yet, Kelly's a petite sweetie.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Notebook When I got my first Moleskine I felt like I'd just landed a loft apartment in a really great part of Manhattan. I sensed my
life had just turned the corner towards something even greater than the swell of a mother's heart at her child's first
recital. Sweeter than cafes on cobblestone streets where jazz is always playing as mist rolls in from the
sea.
That Moleskine was all my favorite childhood candy before me in one pile the size of a '95 Toyota Corolla.
It was every birthday and Christmas Eve combined. It was my secret velvet room.
Sadly, it was stolen in the Great Laptop Bag Heist of this past spring but it's better to have loved and
lost a Moleskine than never to have loved one at all.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Jazz Trio --- Plus Dancer
That's Matt Raines in the middle. He infused many of the tunes on my current project with what can only be called Pure Gee-tar
Magical Genius.
7:12 pm
Monday, August 27, 2007
Untitled In Grocery Store
10:32 pm
Sunday, August 26, 2007
LunchMy fifth husband Mel liked chocolate, fried chicken and cheezy poofs so much they were all he ever ate for lunch with
his licorice tea. Salami and cream cheese for dinner. Breakfasts of sausage and eggs.
Though Mel was thin and pretty fit from all that emu and apple wrangling, I fully expected him to keel over in his 50s
from clogged arteries, not die a horrible phone booth death at only 39 as he did the day his cell phone slid
from the pocket of his blue plaid shirt into the roiling Chockpick waters.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Chocolate
11:25 am
Friday, August 24, 2007
Chicken
11:41 pm
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Cheezy Poofs
10:05 pm
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
AquariusThe moon was retrograde in the house of Mars the night my fifth husband Mel and I first camped
at our hundred acre ranch. But luckily Mel had listened to enough Fifth Dimension and studied
the stars and the Farmer's Almananc long enough to know to don his blue chiffon and belt out a Hank Williams /
Burt Bacarach medley while whacking the magnolia tree with a garland of green onions soaked in elderberry
wine. This only happened twice in our nine years of married bliss but I'm sure it twice averted the disaster that
befell neighboring farms, such as the birth of three-legged goats and emus that never learned to fandango.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting
7:05 am
Sunday, August 19, 2007
Pixie
10:38 am
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Birdie Breakfast
9:58 pm
LoveLove - a lot of good it did me with husbands #1, 2 and 4 who stuck around for about
12, 3 and 4 months respectively. Even Johnny had me fooled all those years, so love was last thing I expected to get broad-sided by outside
"Yolanda's House Of Mops" the August night electrons pushed my legs and pounding heart in the general
direction of tall Melvin Turlish III. Until the moment I first stood not two feet
away from Mel's eau de leather and sweet hay, I could've sworn I was happy. Happy
with my job at the bank, my bingo Fridays, my painting and my two cats in my rooms over Jenny's Flowers.
Little did I know...
Friday, August 17, 2007
StuffingWhen my fifth husband Mel's cat Vincent died from complications of infection during neutering, Mel had him stuffed
and mounted on a branch from the apple tree he loved to chase squirrels in. (The cat chased
squirrels, I mean - not Mel.) Even though stuffed Vincent looked almost noble from two angles, he mostly gave me
the creeps so Mel reluctantly moved him from the top of the t.v. to the shelf below the thimble collection in his
hobby room where Vincent sat silent ever after until he sailed away in Flo's yardsale boxes.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Sleepover
It
Ain't Easy Being Queen
11:17 pm
Monday, August 13, 2007
Things The Child Has Said Lately
While snuggling at bedtime, "Mommy will you please still love me like this when I grow up?"
While talking about the triplet daughters she plans to have, "... but I won't tell them I really like
you the best, Mommy."
In response to her dad asking "Kelly, did you tell Mommy how pretty she looks today?"... "No Dad, that's
not my job."
Sunday, August 12, 2007
PinataWhen my fifth husband Mel and I eloped and he moved into my place above the flower shop,
I was quick to donate all my rare and unusual pinatas to charity seeing as an overstuffed pinata
had crashed from his Aunt Trudie's magnolia tree on his seventh birthday, knocking him unconscious for two days and setting
in motion the slow and painful onset of his advanced fib-tibial hemoglobotobial meiosis and eventual amputation
of his right leg. And... when he was fourteen he'd spent one near-freezing night dazed and confused in a freshly-dredged
ditch after an empty Popeye pinata flew from the bed of a dark green Chevy truck straight under the front wheel
of the refurbished ten-speed he'd just bought from the Nuns Of Immaculate Bingo.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Saturday Photo Hunters Theme: "Row"
The view from our kitchen window, from the row of pretty shells on the sill.
7:40 am
Friday, August 10, 2007
Chopsticks
When in China (or at the Mandarin House buffet on North Lamar...)
5:18 am
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Hi-Ya!
3:37 am
Monday, August 6, 2007
Twinkle Twinkle
6:33 pm
Saturday, August 4, 2007
T.V.Except for his "Extreme Trout Fishing" on Sundays and my "Knitting With Nan" on Saturday nights, my fifth
husband Mel and I were too busy with our apples, emus and wind chimes to watch much t.v. but in that long long first
year after his phone booth accident, when life strained in vain to make sense, I welcomed the narcosis
of that inane little box at a low volume 24 / 7. It seemed like company I guess. It and the wine.
Especially at night. I'd forgotten how black night could get until Mel wasn't in it.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Avalanche When my fifth husband Mel and I were sharing secrets in the thrall of new love, I divulged that I'd once
smoked pot, the night I got lost in the cornfield with Junie and Jo Tusslebaum, and he confessed he'd tumbled
through four years of marijuana fog from the age of fifteen when his dad finally made good on
his promise to leave, until the night before he ran off with the circus after his mother came down
with double amnesia and was sent off to live with Aunt Trudie in Nacagdoches. Four years Mel
and Bill, his best friend since first grade, mowed and trimmed the Golden Acres lawns for minimum wage they'd blow
on chips, pop, candy, Freak Brothers comics, and every good-used Leonard Cohen, Bob Dylan, Simon & Garfunkel, Cat Stevens, Crosby Stills &
Nash, America et al record they could snag at Kings' Music. Oh, and dime bags of Crazy Nick's homegrown they'd smoke mostly
out in Bill's dad's abandoned blacksmith shack. Mel said one harvest Crazy Nick must've stepped
up the recipe because when he and Bill locked the door to the shack, plugged in the extension cord for the
tunes and sparked one up, they got so blasted so fast, all they could do for the first hour, with the needle repeating on
Cohen's "Avalanche," was to sit and shiver as they stared at the grain in the floorboards and smelled the rush
of November howling like the devil through the cracks in the walls.
Thursday, August 2, 2007
Pottery
The morning my fifth husband Mel left for town and never came back, a lump of clay about the size of 19
walnuts sat on his pottery wheel. In fact, that lump of clay sat just like that for the next two years
until the Tuesday I drove to Buda for emu eggs, when Mel's two younger sisters Ruby and Flo decided they'd
cheer me up by clearing out and boxing up a lot of his things. When I got back, saw the pot of tulips on the front
steps and smelled Flo's White Shoulders as I turned the key in the door, I dropped my eggs and ran straight to the
back bedroom Mel used for his hobbies to the horror of empty shelves beside a blazingly empty space
where his spinning wheel used to sit and I crumbled to the faded green linoleum crying, "Mel, Mel, Oh
Mel. Why did you have to go?" Then I sunk into a coma that seemed to last for 18.7 weeks
but was actually only 2 nights and 3 days. When I came to on Doris' daybed, the morning sun was
stabbing its way through a slanted shade to a tray of soup and tea gone cold on the small table beside me, but I devoured
them both and rose on shaky legs towards the house I might now hopefully return to with some layer of peace uncovered.
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