I know it wasn’t actually on my birthday, but I don’t care!
On December 4th, we welcomed little Maisie (aka… SugarPlum) into the world. 8lbs 14oz and as per usual, tons of hair! My bloodline has big babies, so she’ll hold her own, I think.
I know it’s been some time since I’ve actively written, but babies trump everything else, lol.
If you could afford me a bit more time away from the keyboard, I assure you that I’ll be back in the swing of things here shortly.
While I could regale you for hours with all the times I’ve performed over the years, would it be worth the mention if my only audiences were fictional ones?
Well, they weren’t all fictional, to be totally fair about things. My performance career began very early on, where I learned to hone my speech and drama skills on any and all of my baby dolls.
From there, I branched out over the years to include any living animal that was either willing to stay and listen or coralled long enough to endure my theatrical onslaught!
Eventually, my poor audience members would run when they saw me preparing for one of my performances, leaving me to talk to myself… which I readily did!
If you were to ask any one of my adult children, I’m sure they would attest to my ability to give such lengthy speeches that they wished they could escape, just as all my childhood audience victims had done!
So, there you have it, my friends!
As the title of this post reflects, as far as performing and/or speech giving… The world really is my oyster.
After the grocery shopping debacle that morning, her good mood had soured and gained a downward run that she knew would not improve. Her shopping cart wheel had given out in just the right spot coming off of the curb in front of the store letting everything in it simply fly, full force, into a passing car in the parking lot.
After completely re-shopping, off of her crumpled receipt that had a piece of old chewing gum in it, she hurried home in an attempt to unload before her youngest child awoke from a very brief fake nap.
Driving home, the officer did not appreciate the narrative she reeled off as her excuse, giving her a speeding ticket anyway.
Once home, groceries unpacked and children playing, she tried to find solace in a piece of chocolate cake that she had reserved on top of the microwave the night before, only to discover that the cat had peed on the front of the microwave. And yes, she had already eaten the cake when she discovered this bit of information. It had been one of those days!
When she walked into the room to check on her children as they played, she was certain that she heard her 5-year-old say to her Barbie doll, “You #@*ch!”
In shocked horror, the stressed out young mother began to let loose with a scolding lecture regarding language. Looking up from the dollhouse in confusion, her daughter asked, “Mommy, if I can’t call this a bench, then what am I supposed to call it?”
Perspective!
I so want to go back to having the perspective and imagination of a child, without all the grown-up things that derail the good stuff.
That’s a perfect world, which this is not, but the beauty of the human soul is that it can learn, recover, forgive, and grow.
One morning, while standing in my kitchen and talking on the phone with my girlfriend, I just knew something wasn’t right! I kept glancing out the window suspiciously towards the sound of singing.
There was my five-year-old, happily playing on her swing set in the back yard.
Something wasn’t right with the scene I observed, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
You see, it’s usually the absence of noise that signals childhood mischief, but I could see her clearly and she was simply swinging. Wait a minute… that’s it!
I could see her but not clearly because of the distance between us. I asked my girlfriend to hold on a second, momentarily placing the phone on the counter. Leaning out the back door, I called for my daughter to come into the house. Hopping off of the swing, she happily made her way toward the back door, where I stood waiting.
As she drew near, my eyes became riveted to her forehead, where her bangs had once been. My baby gave herself a reverse mohawk! I saw what looked like a small monk! She had somehow sheared off all of the hair on her forehead!
In mortified shock I grabbed the phone up and cried to my friend, “You have to come over and look at my baby girl’s hair”!
Hanging up the phone, I attempted to calmly ask my child what happened… note that I said attempted. She looked concerned at my anger and said, pointedly, “My hair was in my eyes, so I got out your sewing scissors and cut it off.“
I was in tears by the time my girlfriend walked in and I turned to her for comfort in my hour of need. All I got from her was a long round of hysterical laughter. Point in fact, she laughed for a good bit, to my dismay.
“How can you laugh” I cried… “It’s not funny!”
As she tried to contain her laughter (not very well, I might add), my friend said, “I know this seems awful, but her hair will grow back. Look, kids do things like this. I’m sorry for laughing, but I can’t help it! Its hilarious, really it is! I’m sure you will look back on this and laugh, someday. In fact, you can laugh at anything my kids do to me when it happens. I will even call you first.”
After my girlfriend left, I had to hunt down all the evidence to be found. Underneath my own bed, I retrieved my scissors… along with a massive pile of hair! There was a lot more contributions of hair than I had anticipated, which was rather alarming! My thoughts momentarily raced to my other children, but then quickly moved on to one or more of the family pets in the house.
When I asked whose hair I’d found, she confidently took me to her toy pony, sittling in the corner of our family room. The poor jumpy horse had received an army style crew cut, and was never the same after that, the poor thing.
Of course, my girlfriend was right! I did look back and laugh.
And if you are wondering, I did have the occasion to take her up on that offer. Several years later, I did get my chance to laugh at her child’s silly antics.
Sometimes, our kids say the darndest things. Yes, I know that phrase has been widely used, but I am still going to use it though. If we think about it, the blatant truth of all the things our kids say, would be a catastrophe if we grown ups said them out loud. I guess this memory is the closest example I can give to prove my point.
Out of the mouths of our tiny human replicas, come some of the most jarring, yet accurate truths! While it can sometimes be embarrassing and/or even upsetting, we cannot fault the little truth detectors. As they have no clue regarding protocol or appropriateness of word usage, they are innocent of any malice. Just unadulterated truths that we grown ups learned how to keep zipped up.
Our small protégé are also emulating many of our own beliefs and attitudes, whether we wish to admit this or not. Monkey see monkey do, and our kids often reflect our behavior. But they often reflect to a greater extent, when they blurt out things we have said in the past. We were unaware they were mentally recording us. Childhood also does not come with a full understanding of what, or why grown-ups say and do the things they do.
While talking with my brother-in-law the other day, I was reminded of a funny situation back when his girls were little ones. When my husband and I were first together, he took me to visit his brother and family. It was wonderful to spend time with them, and I instantly fell in love with their daughters. These two girls were so sweet, and very bright for their young age, so I was enthralled.
On one of the mornings of our stay, we all sat around the breakfast table visiting and talking about this and that. When my husband mentioned that I was a photographer, the girls got all excited and asked to see my pictures. I pulled out my laptop and loaded up a file of my recent pictures, taken along our journey across the states to visit them. Somehow, I had a picture in the file of a woman I had done some work with recently. The girls were watching me scroll through the file, and when the picture of the woman appeared, the oldest of the two girls made two consecutive statements, one right after the other… without even a moment’s hesitation.
The first comment could possibly be classed as a reaction verses a statement… she exclaimed, “Oh My!”… and right on the heels of that, she declared, “She’s Hideous”!
I am not sure what was funnier… watching the girls mom turn three shades of red, and immediately try to correct the child, or my brother-in-law almost choking on his food, while laughing hysterically. I wish to point out some very important things to note here. One thing to note here, is that the woman did indeed have a unique look about her, and another note was that the child looked at her parents with some confusion… the tiny truthteller had simply called it like she saw it. She was not being mean, but rather, trying to describe what she saw on the screen. It did not help that my husband was laughing just as hard as his brother, and I was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my face.
Those girls were probably so confused by the grown-ups, they had no idea what to even say sorry about, or if it was ok to laugh with us or not. At the time, I sucked it up and sided with their mom, as I understood the ramifications if the outburst was not squelched then and there. They could have ended up getting kicked out of daycare for being cheeky. On the other hand, they were not my responsibility in the morality and respect departments, that job belonged to the parents. I found it absolutely Haylarious!
I will end this memory with two observations. One of which, is the fact that the child new without a doubt, what hideous meant and she used it properly. When I was small, my older sister blurted out in the grocery store check out, “John, you are so illegitimate”! He was trying to read the cover of the magazine on the rack, and she thought to say illiterate. The second observation I have made all these years later, looking fondly upon those two girls all grown up. Not only did they turn out to be very bright and beautiful woman, both have their mothers sensibilities as well as their fathers sense of humor… guess which parent they heard the word Hideous from… I wonder.
While I can make a pretty mean chili, salsa that can melt the paint off a house, homemade soup bowls to fill with dreams, and a good many other dishes I picked up along the way… baking is my passion!
Not just baking, but desserts mainly… and not just desserts… I LOVE COOKIIIIEEEESSSSS!
I am well versed in baking most types of cookies, but my most highly prized handheld delight would by my secret recipe of ………………..
Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies
These are not just anybody’s cookies, but my own twisted version. While I won’t tell you the exact recipe, I will say that it mostly has to do with HOW I bake them, more so than all my secret stuff I throw in before baking the dreamy mouthfuls.
Let me just say that I have perfected the art of perfect oven temperature, yummy ingredients, and a sore back from standing bent over in front of the oven, and watching for the perfect moment to pull em…
They come out golden brown and crispy on the surface, but when you break them open they are perfectly ooey gooey on the inside… A tall glass of milk is a must for these, as I forgot to mention that I make them about the size of an open hand, not a child’s hand, no no no, but a grown up people size hand…
They were Huge!
When my girls were small, we spent a great amount of time involved in church. Every spring the church would do bake sales to raise funds for our Children’s Ministries. I would make a triple batch of my cookies, wrap them individually in colored cellophane and ribbon, set up a spot on the church bake sale table, and watch the cookies disappear within less than a half hour. That’s a lot of cookies people, A LOT!
When I refused time and again to give up my recipe to some of the moms, I seriously worried for my safety a few times… lol… just kidding!
I did often jokingly say that my recipe was a Government Secret and if I told them the recipe, I would have to make them disappear… that always got some laughs.
So there you have it folks, hot off the press… we can bake cookies pretty good!
**The original cookies had mold all over them, so, as per my commitment to quality… These are fresh!
When I opened my eyes this morning, I found Tilly staring back at me, from across the pillow. She held something that looked like a letter, and I couldn’t see who it was from, but the look on her face was answer enough. Young Henry had written to Tilly, that much was quite clear!
But, why the long stare fest? What was in the note? At first, I honestly thought Tilly looked more frightened than happy. For a moment, I feared something unpleasant may have occurred. Only after taking the letter she offered me, did I come to understand her conflicted emotions…
The words of the letter were few, but very heartfelt, as young Henry wrote down his words of love for our young Tilly.
My Tilly I love you I hope you love me Meet me at our spot by the river, if you can I want to ask you something.
Henry
No wonder Tilly has such a strange look on her face… She is truly in love. The rush of emotions, fear of the unknown, and excitement for what’s to come, all bouncing around inside… yep! I’ve seen it before, and even though I’m seeing the backside of my fifties, I too, remember the butterflies, giddy laughter, and rush of emotions at every smile or touch… yeah, I remember them like it was yesterday.
So, it has now become my joy and honor to walk this journey with our young Tilly. Whatever she needs, we’ll be there to help and guide her along the way… that’s what family does.
Once Tilly saw how excited I was, her face relaxed into a more dreamy and confused state. She just kept twirling into things, as she wandered about looking for what to wear. I picked out several of her favorite dresses, in an effort to speed things up a little. For the next hour and a half I watched Tilly get dressed in one outfit, leave for the river, and then return to change into a different dress…
Finally, she made up her mind…
I do really love that sweater she’s wearing. Young Henry’s mother made it for Tilly while we were out to sea, presenting it to her upon their first visit, once we’d returned to the Barnyard. Tilly absolutely loves that sweater, as I think it bears a great deal of love, woven throughout the garment.
So anyways, I watched from the front porch as Tilly scampered across the grass, and down the path toward the river… I stayed there to watch til long after she’d disappeared into the trees. I could only guess as to what would come………………….
…she’s late…
… maybe she won’t come…
I think she loves me…
… what if I’m wrong, and she says no?
Well, God told me to ask her, and I did read that verse saying, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart”. I think it was Psalm 37:4…
Here, she comes…
I can do this, I can do this…
Ok…
Ahhhemmm…
Miss Tilly…
I love you with all of my heart. In fact, I’ve loved you from the moment we met. I offer you all that I have in this world. Please say that you’ll be my wife…
……… give em their moment…………………………….
(10 minutes later)
I am getting married… I am getting married! He asked… he really, really asked me to marry him…
…………………………………………………………………………………………
… she said yes… she actually said yes, God…
What am I standing here waiting for… I gotta go tell mamma! We’ve got things to do…
…………………………………………………………………………………………
… What am I doing dancing around in the woods? I can’t wait to get back to the barn and tell Ma.. Mee… oh for heavens sake, I’m callin her my Mamma cause it suits her, and she’s always been there for me…
… and I’m gonna need her now, more than ever! I hope she knows what we’re supposed to do. I don’t know the first thing about getting married…
Doesn’t Fall always give birth to nostalgia, or am I the only one who thinks this way? Every year, just as the weather begins cooling, I find myself digging through the archives, and pulling out some of my old articles to read. Though I realize this site has an archive page, but many readers don’t have hours of free time to go digging through all that stuff.
That’s why you’ll occasionally see them re-posted, because the more recent readers might not have read them, yet.
From now on, if you see (20__) on an article, those will all be called Tuesday Thoughts and Things, like this one. I will be pulling up some of my favorite goodies from the archives, going all the way back to when Journey With Me began, in 2016. Yes, you get to see all my typos, commas,,,,,,,,,,,, and poor sentence structure, but hey, I’m still learning. If nothing else, we can all see how my writing skills, and style, have changed over the years.
So let’s do this!
This came from October 24, 2023…
I was going to post a picture of my plant today, but found this while searching my photo files… I figure that the plant can wait a few days. Have you ever been in a place where you see something you yourself have done, written or said… but it seemed as if someone else did the writing or saying, though you know it was you?
I guess I write so much, I occasionally find myself surprised at things I myself wrote. It is not a disappointment, nor something to be proud of necessarily, but it makes me happy inside for some reason. Perhaps I am able to see my true reflection in the words written for others…
I think all too often in life, we do and say mostly what the world will accept of us, or what we perceive the world might accept from us.
I think I like the way I write better, when I don’t care what the world thinks, but more so what I think or even better yet, what God thinks… in my opinion.
Maybe reading old writings of my work, encourages me, because it reflects a spirit of healing, growth and faith, which had not been there for so much of my life. Our human propensity to overcome, rise above and walk on, always amazes me… that comes from God folks, not us, but the one whom we were designed after. We are all made in His image, and therefore by design, are fully capable of tapping into this part of our spirit.
It comes down to Freedom… freedom of choice! God has given us all we need to get this life done, we need only accept the tools given and get it done! Will it be easy? Is it ever? Life interruptus happens for everyone.
Choices, choices, choices… what we do with what we have is what makes us who we are… Period!
When I look back over the things I have written over time, I clearly have seen the good, the bad, and the ugly of my choices, as well as the lasting scars of the choices made by my predecessors. I have also witnessed a resilience within myself, that has apparently always been there, but had been obscured by my attempts to just survive!
Perhaps I have simply arrived finally, at the cross roads of Too Damn Tired and Suck It Up Buttercup! Whatever it is, I like it! When someone came up with the phrase, “What don’t kill you makes you stronger”, I now have a full understanding of what they meant.
When I read that poem I wrote a ways back, it resonated with me, as if a stranger had written it for me to read, and not the other way around.
That folks, is growth! As I heal and grow in my walk with God, the words that begin flowing onto the page are actually quite beautiful, and I can say that without pride, as I think they fully come from God… maybe not for you, but rather, for me…
The woman behind the counter smiled gently at me, as she cleaned her ear piercing tools. My heart was in my throat, it seemed. Getting my ears pierced was the most grown up thing I had ever done by my own choice.
My Nana had bought me a pair of earrings in the shape of bright red apples, but this time the jewelry wasn’t clip on… they were the real thing in the eyes of a 6 year old. My mother told me that I could get my ears done if I chose on my own… no hand holding or cajoling would be forthcoming.
I lay in bed awake the entire night before we embarked on this grown up lady stuff I wanted to take part in. I was terrified, of what I am not sure… but if they could poke me with a vaccination needle whenever they felt like it, and trade me a stupid sucker for my time, then I must be grown up enough to take the needle for a pair of gloriously beautiful red apple earrings. My mind was made up on the matter, so I just lay there and waited for the sun to come up.
I was so terrified of backing down and not being able to wear my new gift… it was in truth, the only thing that kept me on that swinging stool, there in that Bon Marche Department Store. I tucked my feet behind the bar beneath the seat, grabbed the sides of the stool with both hands in a military vice grip and tried to find my happy place.
I apparently had nothing to worry about, because it was over before it had begun! That fast… bang bang… All Done! They were kind enough to do both ears at the same moment, probably in case I backed out half way through the deal. I was so happy and proud of myself that I burst into tears, making the grown ups think I was in pain or shock. Not so!
I WAS A LADY!
So now I will explain the hilarious fall out from my Grown Up Anxiety Filled Sleepless Night… the reality of how most adults handle stress.
As exhausted as I was from no sleep and worry, over my piercing adventure, I never had a moment to catch some zzzzzz’s until that night after we got home. I was so tired that I could barely touch my dinner, and vaguely remember my mom walking me down the hallway to my bedroom……..
…. The rain fell steadily in the darkness, only illuminated by the distant street lamps, flickering occasionally. I was sitting in the passenger seat of our station wagon, while my parents were in a Parent/Teacher Conference up the street. As I waited for them to return, I saw movement not too far down the block, barely visible through the sheets of rain falling across the hood of the car.
I heard her before I saw her… this scary Witch that looked suspiciously like the lady off of the Wizard of Oz, if I am being completely honest. I could hear her laughing wickedly as she slowly materialized out of the darkness. Yup! It had to be that horrible woman who took Toto away from Dorothy. Don’t judge… I have a bucket list of different childhood memories that are triggered by different movies I had in my tiny mind.
Anyway, as the witch steadily approached my car, I frantically checked all the door locks and glanced up at the entrance of the School, hoping I would see my parents walking down the steps toward our car. Nope! As Jack Sparrow says, I was “all by me onesies”!
I crawled down under the dash where I could be hidden from view for the most part, except my feet could still be seen from the passenger door. I heard her approach the car, walk all the way around it dragging her super long witchy fingernails across the metal doors… witches always have super long curvy red nails if you needed a visual.
Then the witch stopped directly in front of the passenger side door where I was crouched down on the floor. All I could see was the tip of her hat, but I could hear what she was doing… she was picking the lock on my door with those awful fingernails. I watched in horror as the little metal door lock popped!
The next thing I knew, I was strapped onto a torture table, in the parking lot underneath the Sprouse Ritz Department Store, and that witch began to tickle me with those long fingernails…
It was torture! I began to laugh and could not stop! I fought to get away, but was strapped down so there was no escape for me… no way out! Except to wake up, but I had been so tired from the night before that it was like crawling through thick Jello to do anything. Never fear though, laughter is here… I laughed so hard that I rolled myself out of the top of our bunkbed and landed with a thump on the floor below. That did the trick!
Isn’t it funny the way we handle stress… often bottling our fears, stuffing them down and hiding them away from judging eyes. I realize that I was just a child and that the dream was probably just a way to release the tension I had been holding for several days over a perceived painful event. There was no real danger or trauma involved in ear piercing, but to a child trying to be a grown up, it most assuredly seemed like there might.
My take away from the whole affair was this… I would for sure think long and hard the next time I wanted to be a grown up!
From then to now, I still often find myself thinking long and hard every time I have to do grown up stuff… I know I should be fine with getting tickled all night in a parking lot, but this girl would rather leave the Witch back at Sprouse Reitz…
Journey With Me! 