Honey, I Think There's a Cat...

My mother, God love her, is a wondeful source of love and compassion and hugs. She is also a wonderful source of amusement and entertainment, even when she doesn't want to be. She lives in Central Florida and I do not. I live where the air isn't full of moisture droplets and people of normal height and weight can breathe without feeling like a fish in drydock.

My Mom comes to visit about once a year, and I love it when I get to spend some time with just her and I. Even if we are doing nothing at all, it is perfect. Always perfect. She makes me smile, and likes my spaghetti sauce, and keeps me in constant stitches, with absolutely no effort.

This was one of those occasions. Mom asked if it would be alright to take a shower. No problem, but I wanted to pick up the bath toys first. My then eight year old still likes to take baths and plays in there until her feet prune up and she resembles a 90 yro grape. Mom didn't see a problem with picking up the toys herself, and frankly..the couch felt good...so I let her have at it. "Clean towels and washclothes under the sink, Mom, and lots of shower gel choices on the windowsill."

About twenty minutes later, a very bewildered Mother presents herself to me in the living room. "Honey, I think there's a sick cat in the tree outside the bathroom! I heard it moaning and wailing the entire time I was taking a shower." Okay... I've never seen a cat around here, as neither I nor the closeby neighbors have animals. I go outside to take a look anyway. Perhaps a stray got lost and found my tree a source of refuge. No cat. "Honey, I KNOW I heard it. Repeatedly! It almost sounded..well, not sick, but...you know...like there was more than one and they were busy!"

"Okay Mom, but I'm not going outside to find out if they are done!" We settle down to eat spaghetti and the cat caterwalling conversation is dropped. For now.

I'm preparing to retire for the evening (getting fancy here, lmbo) and prepare for my shower. I turn on the water to test the temperatures, and then hit the shower spray button.

"MUUU-WAAAAH"

Huh?

"MUUU-WAAAAH" Dang if that cat wasn't back in the tree! I get in the shower and I'm trying to peer out the window but it is one of those real tiny way-up-high-thingies and I just can't manage to stretch my 5 ft 2 in body tall enough. I reach to catch the shampoo bottle that starts to topple and instead catch one of Liz's plastic toys the kids get in those smileyface meals from the land of 50 million served. 'MUUU-WAAAAH." A bright orange with black stripes fish looks back up at me and again proudly calls out "MUUU-WAAAAH." Nemo, From Finding Nemo, lays there in the palm of my hand. It's one of those floating toys that make noise when you use it in the tub, and the spray from the shower apparently was setting it off!

I am dying laughing here. I get dried off, dressed and go out to my mother, who is still worrying over this poor sick (or possibly very lucky) cat wandering somewhere outside the vicinity of my bathroom window.

"Mom, is this your cat???" and I make that orange toy produce it's gawd-awful noise. "Yes!," my Mother hollers... and then realizes I am holding a fish. A FISH. A plastic fish. This is her caterwalling cat. This is her "gee, couldn't they pick a better place for THAT feline pair." A plastic fish that makes a noise similar to a sick foghorn. My Mother, champion of plastic fish, cats in motion, and even the occasional paper bag by the side of the road ("But honey, I thought it was a puppy!"). I think I'll keep her. :)

You know You're Getting Old When....

I am not a fast driver. I don't LIKE to drive fast. I like a nice leisurely pace. You know, the kind where the cyclists on the Parkway pass you with their wonderful hand gestures? I don't do a LOT under the speed limit! I mean, I can hit 44 in a 45 mph zone, for Polly's sake... I just choose to not do that, lol. I do 43 1/2. I stay on the right unless there is no right, and I don't hug the bumper of the ones in front of me (mainly because I can't catch them). I thought I was a safe driver! A good driver! A cautious driver!

My mother came to visit last year. She rented this beautiful little furnished apartment for an entire month, and I was thrilled to have her close enough to give an actual hug. Cyberhugging and ecards are great, but they just cannot replace a Mommy hug!

I had gone to meet her at her rental apartment and she was going to follow me back to my little place. She wanted to come see my garden, my tons of tomatoes I complain about (see other story) and just chill on the couch with us at MY place for an evening. NO problem, Mom! I'm a slow safe driver, so following me won't be any problem at all.

We are cruising along, me doing my usual 43 or 44 (okay it was 42 but I didn't want to lose her!). My cell phone rings. I hate using a cell phone while driving. If I were that coordinated, God would have given me three arms and an ear extension from birth. I glance down quickly (one eye on road and one eye on the phone..I'm talented!) It's my Mom calling me. She must want to stop somewhere, or she has a question about dinner, or I am going too fast. Me? No way! It must be dinner.

Me: Hi Mom - I'm waving at you! What's up?
Mom: Honey? Can you do me a small favor? Please?
Me: Sure! Anything... (slowing down because I just can't talk and drive at the same time)
Mom: Well... could you kind of pick it up just a LITTLE bit? There was this little old lady on a three wheeler that just passed us on the right, and she didn't look too happy!
Me: Huh? Fine!

The cell phone quit working or she turned it off. She wouldn't admit it later when I asked, but I could SEE her laughing when I glanced back to her car. I swear she wiped away tears.

You know you're getting old when your MOTHER calls you on the cell phone from the car behind you begging that you go just a LITTLE faster than the speed of snails.

I'm getting a moped.

Going Up!

It has been one heck of a day. Not a happy blog, but I feel the need to put this all down, and this seems like as good a place as any, lol.

Dear Lord, I just ask that you take care of my Mom while she is in the hospital. Chest pains hurt, and please, if it be your will, let her be okay and come to us instead of going home to you. You already have my Dad and I know it's selfish, but I want my Mom just a little longer. I know that we here on your Earth don't always understand why things occur as they do, and I know it is not my place to question your wisdom, but I could use a little guidance right now. Please keep her safe, and take away her pain.

While I'm on it, can you also watch out for my Grandpa please. He's without power right now due to Hurricane Katrina and, while he is a very tough one, I can tell he was a little worried. The winds won't be too bad (mild hurricane) but lots of rain, and he lives in an area that is easily flooded. Just wrap your love around him and keep him safe please.

I know I'm asking a lot, but there is nothing you can not do. Liz, my youngest, has a small hairline fracture in her right foot and toe..and it can be pretty painful. A little touch from your hand to ease the pain would go a long way, along with lots of Mommy hugs from me. Hold your child that you loaned to me to raise, and help her to feel better please.

Heavenly father, I was angry at you for so long after Dad died. While I never wavered in the fact that you existed, I did waiver in my faith and devotion to you. Instead of seeing that you took Dad so that he would not be in pain or seeing that you spared him not being *all there, you took him home to be with you. I almost hated you for that, but you were patient. You never stopped loving me, even when I denied you. You kept nagging at me, and showing me your love, even when I didn't want to see it. Thank you for not giving up on me. I have found such joy and peace in the past few weeks. You tell us to lay down our burdens to the Lord and let Him take care of things, even if we don't understand. I did that. I will continue to do that. I will no longer question, but be thankful for all that you have given me.

Thank you for dying for me, and for loving me, and for showing me that you are always there, even when life seems at its darkest. I give my life over to you, Lord.

Amen.

The Guess WhoDunit

This story occurred about three years ago, and still cracks ME up!

I am at the school, picking up my youngest daughter Liz, after school lets out. Oldie Goldies blasting away on the radio, as usual. Liz hops in and at that very moment, one of my favorite songs comes on. No Sugar Tonight In My Coffee, by... you guessed it. The Guess Who. The following conversation nearly had us both killed.

Me: Oh, man..my favorite song! Be-bopping my head and looking like an idiot.
Liz: Who is it?
Me: The Guess Who
Liz: I don't know. Who is it?
Me: Guess Who! It hasn't dawned on me that she is really trying to guess, lol.
Liz: I don't know... the Beatles?
Me: No hon, it's The Guess Who. I can barely contain myself by now.
Liz: The BeeGees?
Me: No, Liz..the name of the band IS The Guess Who! Hysterical laughter hurts!
Liz: Mom, it's not the Beach Boys! Who is it?
Me: Honey, listen...the name of the band IS THE GUESS WHO. That IS their
name. That's it! I have tears streaming down my face from laughing so hard. Laugher causes tears. Tears causes temporary blindness. Temporary blindness, while driving, causes car accidents! Who put that guardrail there?? We JUST missed it!
Liz: Oh. It hits her. The Brain Train has pulled in to the station. OH! Well, THAT'S confusing!


I think I'll mess with her head next week and put on the old Abbot and Costello routine Who's On First.

How To Grow A Tomato

I swear, I didn't set out to be a Martha Stewart wannabe. I only wanted to try my hand at a few vegetables and maybe an herb or three. I had received moderate success last year when I grew tomatoes. First time I had ever grown a thing, other than children, and I didn't even water THEM on time! They turned out okay anyway. It all started in West Palm...


I am known as the Botanical Butcher of South Florida. I made short work of a spider plant and a cactus. I even took the life of a gorgeous philodendron that ticked me off, and it was SILK! Plants and I don't do well together. If I wanted all that greenery, I'd go buy some Benjamin Moore and airbrush something.

That all changed when I moved to Asheville. Maybe it was all that fresh air clogging my lungs, or the high altitude (nose bleed jumping off the porch) at which my little trailer sits. Perhaps it was the fact that there is so much color here. Green, brown, gold, yellow, orange, red, pink... it's enough to make one take leave of their senses. So I did.

I searched on the internet and at the library, and bugged the helpers at Home Depot so much they used their walkie talkies to warn each other when they saw me coming. Unfair advantage. I don't walk fast, and sometimes I can't walk very well at all, and it is not a pretty sight to see an overweight and overbearing lady hanging on to a shopping cart, chasing an orange vest around the light fixtures and down through the plumbing aisle. Chickens.

I am given some wonderful advice. Buy really good potting soil, and don't overwater whatever you put in it. Hey, I can do that! I purchase two healthy looking tomato plants. An Early Girl, guaranteed to give you wonderful sweet ripe fruit within sixty days, and a Better Boy. I wanted a Best Boy but they were all out. Better Boy seemed to be ahead of Okay Boy and Doing Fairly Boy, so Better Boy it was. I get them home, only to be informed by my neighbor that I cannot plant yet. It is late April and the ground may still experience a hard freeze. So? Get it a coat, for Polly's sake. I bring my two plants in to my home. I offer up food and shelter, and the occasional use of the CD player. They reward me with drooping leaves and bugs. I told you plants and I don't do well.

Act One, Scene 2. Got more plants. Waited until the proper time, rechecked the soil and planted those little suckers. Watered only when they screamed of thirst, and gave them the occasional sprinkle of coffee grounds and crushed egg shells. I don't know why. I think I heard someone once say they were good for plants, and it beat having them leak to the bottom of the garbage bag!

Within approximately 60-75 days, I had tomatoes! Lots of tomatoes. Beautiful tomatoes all turning red at the same time. I made sauce. I made chili. I made chopped tomatoes. I made crochet balls by freezing tomatoes (man, that hurts if dropped). I gave away tomatoes. I took tomatoes to the local food bank. I threatened total strangers that they HAD to take my tomatoes.

Finally, tomato season was over and I could safely throw away those pesky plants whose fruit of their loins took up all my time and space. I was so out of the tomato growing business.

Until this year. :) This year I added herbs, sweet peppers, cucumbers and zucchini. I was supposed to get small compact zucchini. Great for everyday use (as if everyday usage included zucchini). Again, I followed all the instructions. I swear I didn't ignore a one. I really tried! What I got were monsters. The zucchini above (yep, that IS a zucchini)is not the smallest, nor the biggest, but it was the first ripe one so I had a friend take a picture for posterity.

The other vegetables in the garden, not to be outdone by the zucchini, grew just as big. Some bigger. There's a cucumber I've threatened my neighbors with that would make a baseball bat look puny. I'm going to bring it to the next lawn game we have here in the park. I think I've still got some crochet balls in the freezer. :)