Un-winding and Winding Up

Thanksgiving is over.

I'm stuffed.


More stuffed than any turkey I've seen lately. Folks don't stuff their turkey's anymore. Fear of sominella or some kind of food poisoning that the "press" has soaked into everyone's brains.

C'mon people. Wakeup and smell the turkey! Stuff the ass and cook till done.


People have survived it since the 1600's! Besides, I miss that stuffing. Even though I know where it's been... I still love it.

I'm unwinding. From a wonderful holiday based upon celebrating this great country we live in and enjoying food and family.


I'm winding. Winding up for ...ugh...Christmas. Decorating, gifts, toy commercials up the wazoo and shopping. The DREADDED shopping.


I've already decorated my mom's house (three weeks ago) and my friends place. It's so much work. I am thinking that maybe, just maybe, I'll take care of my own place tomorrow. But, it just isn't something I look forward to anymore.


When my kids were babes I really enjoyed pumping up Christmas. That's because it was magic in my children's eyes. The Christmas tree, ornaments, Rudolph, Frosty and most of all...Santa.


Now they are a bunch of grown up Scrooge's and Grinch's like me. And, its not as fun.

So, tell me. What is the magic of Christmas without a child?

Wake Up and Smell the Turkey!

Thanksgiving.

Is it the forgotten holiday?

It seems like it's becoming so to me. Halloween comes and everyone carves a pumpkin, buys candy, dresses up, and parties on. The next day I hop in the car, tune in and shaaaaaazaaaaaam! Christmas Music!

Too MUCH too SOON!

What about Thanksgiving? It's a great Holiday and a CHEAP holiday which makes it even GREATER! No stressin' about what to buy who, no stressin' looking at your checking account, no stressin' about pulling out and putting up all kinds of decorations, no stressin about baking the best cookie.

Thanksgiving. It's a no stress holiday. Wake up, tune into the Macy's Thanksgiving parade, watch a little football, chow down and pass out.
Even those of us who do the cooking and slave in the kitchen still love Thanksgiving. It's great to whip-up our own "traditional stuffing" and turkey for the ones we love. Who doesn't love the feel of cranberries being pushed out of the can and slicing it with the lid so they have that "ridged" effect. C'mon! What's not to love? Pumpkin pie. Pecan pie. Sweet potatoes with marshmallows on top.....Yum, Yum, Yum!

Thanksgiving! It's become the most under-estimated holiday of the year.

Wake up people! Wake up and smell the Turkey!


I Give THANKS!

T ampons! What woman doesn't appreciate tampons? Walkin' around with a 10x3 wet pad between my legs was no fun! Hail to the tampon!

H am. Not to dis the Turkey at this time of the year, but anyone who REALLY knows me, knows I can't really appreciate my scrambled eggs without diced ham!

A merican Idol! An hour of pure entertainment and cheering for the underdog. For the past three years I've had friends and/or family over for "American Idol" nite. Fun, food and pure emotion! Gotta luv it.

N ite time radio. Couldn't fall asleep without it.

K isses. His are the best.

S trength. I am a phenomenal woman. I am mentally and physically strong.

Halloween!

Autumn is here! The leaves are turning from one shade of deep green to a celebration of colors...reds, oranges, yellows and golds. On an early morning walk , I take deep breaths of the crisp fall air. I feel alive and invigorated. Quietly, I can hear the swish of dried summer leaves float between my feet. Sweet music to my ears.

I love the smell of the inside of a freshly-carved pumpkin. I put my nose in and take a deep breath. Digging inside and pulling out all of the seeds, gettin' my hands all goopy with pumpkin sludge. Cleaning and scraping away at the inside flesh until its smooth as silk. Scooping out a little cradle where the candle will sit comfortably. Lights out!

When my kids were little I sewed the majority of their costumes!

Witch.
Devil. Ghost
Dracula. Power Ranger.
Indians.
Snow White. Minnie Mouse. And many, many, more!

Last year I made my college-aged son Oscar the Grouch and he won 2nd prize! Gotta love it!

Butter, salt, 450 degrees for about 25 minutes. It ain't Halloween without
pumpkin seeds!

Who's Gonna?

At work, pounding away on the key-board, answering emails, taking calls, learning new shit everyday. I call it "shit" but really, it's not. I just call it shit. Good shit. Shit that keeps me busy, challenged and absorbed in...well...shit.

Anyway, I'm doing my "shit".

Looking up every thirty seconds to look at a photo of my Cim a.k.a Cimbo a.k.a Simmy-simmy a.k.a Tiny Bubbles a.k.a Bitch (in the kindest, most endearing term). I just look at her.

Damn!

She's gone.

I can't call her tonight to tell her about my daily drama. She's not gonna call me to tell me about her daily drama. We LOVED hearing about each others drama. We loved making each other see the most ridiculous sides of our drama.

Who's gonna make me laugh till I practically pee my pants?
Who's gonna buy me my V.S jammies at Christmas time?
Who's gonna come to my place and sit on my roof and smoke a cig with me?

Who's gonna be my prom King?

Who's gonna tell me to "shut the fuck up"?
Who's got a dimple deeper than the grand canyon?
Who's gonna compare saggy tits with me?
Who's gonna do one of my home-spun face lifts me?

Who's gonna?

Losing Cim

Recently I have lost my very best friend. Friends since we were children and someone I can honestly say I loved almost as much as I love myself.

It's difficult. I miss her. I want her back. I need her and I miss her.

Right now I feel as if I will never laugh again with someone the way I did with her.

My Cim. My heart. My friend. My sister.

Some folks say that time heals all wounds but deep in my heart I don't believe it --when it comes to the sorrow that I am feeling in regards to losing her.

Cim was so outrageously funny. Outrageously serious. Outrageously caring. Outrageously loving. She was an outrageous person in all aspects of her life. And I miss her. And I loved her...outrageously.

UN-Kept

UN-Kept.

I was married at a very young age. 13. That would make me 39. I wish!!

Okay, okay. I was married at 19. I quit school, quit work and raised a family for twenty-somethin' years. I kept a clean house (some may argue), had dinner on the table every night, threw themed birthday parties, read bed-time stories, sewed Halloween costumes, made Christmas magic and provided a warm and loving environment for my family. It was and always will be the hardest job/work of my life. NEVER under-estimate the value of a good wife and mother.

None of my kids are "screwed up" in the traditional sense. All three of them have college degrees. All three still talk to me. I consider that a success.

Fast forward...tick...tick....tick....how time flies!

Divorced after twenty-something years or marriage. I am on my own. Living in an itty-bitty apartment.

Paying my own bills, holding down a good job. It's so liberating to know, for real, that I CAN do it on my own. I am not dependent on anyone but myself.

Oh, I still have guilt and woes and life-crisis but nothing that I know that I can't handle.

I am an un-kept woman. I keep myself. I have come to learn that no-one expects anything more from me than ME!!

PHENOMENAL WOMAN by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies

I'm not cute or built to suit a model's fashion size

But when I start to tell them

They think I'm telling lies.

I say It's in the reach of my arms

The span of my hips

The stride of my steps

The curl of my lips.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally

Phenomenal woman That's me.

I walk into a room

Just as cool as you please

And to a man

The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees

Then they swarm around me

A hive of honey bees.

I say It's the fire in my eyes

And the flash of my teeth

The swing of my waist

And the joy in my feet.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally

Phenomenal woman

That's me.

Men themselves have wondered

What they see in me

They try so much

But they can't touch

My inner mystery.

When I try to show them

They say they still can't see.

I say It's in the arch of my back

The sun of my smile

The ride of my breasts

The grace of my style.

I'm a woman

Phenomenally

Phenomenal woman

That's me.

Now you understand

Just why my head's not bowed

I don't shout or jump about

Or have to talk real loud

When you see me passing

It ought to make you proud.

I say It's in the click of my heels

The bend of my hair

The palm of my hand

The need for my care.

'Cause I'm a woman

Phenomenally

Phenomenal woman

That's me.

Chicken Soup

Peeling carrots, chopping celery , onions, herbs and chicken a-boilin'. A pot of my chicken soup was in the making. Time spent in the kitchen with my youngest, Eddie (23), has become one of my favorite things.

It's hard to squeeze in time with your kids when they grow up. They're busy living their lives, hangin' with friends, searching for jobs, etc. I've discovered that there is an "in" for each one of my kids.

Food and cooking is my "in" when it comes to Eddie. When the phone rings and Eddie's number pops up I know that

1. He's wondering if I have made dinner and/or if I'd like to.
2. He'd like to know if his jeans that I've had for 6 months have a repaired zipper yet.

Usually its number 1. I think he's given up on number 2.

Eddie doesn't expect me to do the cooking but rather he likes cooking with me and that's a wonderful thing. I learn a lot about my son while in the kitchen. I've learned that he's a damn good cook. He's passionate, strong and wise. He's funny, sensitive and responsible. Oh the joy of cooking!

Leaning over a bowl of hot chicken soup we sit across from one another at the table. He's smiling, savoring each delicious slurp. I'm smiling, savoring each delicious moment.