So It's True

Life is a bell curve. And it's obvious that I've peaked and am on the downhill side. As a child, I was encouraged to use good table manners. My children and nieces and nephews will attest to the fact that I appreciate good manners and want to see that tradition continued. However, I have apparently reverted to my childhood. I had to be reminded to keep my voice down at the dinner table (for good reason). On top of that I picked food off of more than one person's plate (without asking). And before we even sat down, I orchestrated my seatmates (that's adult-speak for "calling" whom I was to sit by). My grandmother's probably having a hissy-fit up in heaven right now.

We Are the Nerds

Just leaving Chuck's. 9 p.m. Say our goodbyes. Sharon says, We could cross the street and go to Catch22. [Sounds of night. Crickets chirping. No comments.] The gauntlet has been thrown. The 5 remaining in the group must decide: A) to cowboy up--sure, let's go!; B) whine and plead old age, work, and other assorted and ready excuses; or C) play chicken--wait it out and see who will cave first. Lucky for me, Karan threw in the towel first (pretty much on Mark's behalf) since they had to drive back to B'ham. Whew. Dodged that bullet. Chose Option (C).

Oh, but wait. The Nerd Brigade marches on. Waiting for the light to change, Libba says, So, Ty Murray outlasted Chuck Wicks. Sharon: Probably got the sympathy vote since Len thought he should be gone. Mark: What? Karan: Dancing with the Stars. You know the show I call during every week. Joey: Yeah (sigh), Julianne....(code for Chuck who?)

T.G.I.W.

I think that we should declare this week officially over. Monday was so long and grueling that by the time it was over I was sure it was Wednesday. So, now that it is Wednesday I'm done. There. By official decree, I now pronounce it the weekend. Aaaah. I feel better already.

3 Things

...Barnes & Noble
...Skinny Cafe Au Lait with Sugar Free Vanilla
...New Nora Roberts book

Mother's Day

As Mother's Day approaches, it's not my role as mother that I think about. It's my mother. I often think about the things she's done for me, but I don't tell her. I think about her every day, but I don't tell her that I think about her every day. I had that opportunity recently. I told her how much I appreciate that she raised me to know right from wrong, to know what is proper, to use good manners, to use good grammar, to appreciate fine things--especially antiques, to love travel of all kinds, to have a deep appreciation for history and the United States of America, and to be brought up in a loving Christian home.

On top of the wonderful mother I grew up with, I have another mother--a birth mother--with whom I share a wonderful relationship. She gave me up in love to another to be raised then found me and reconnected. We share lots of things--so much that it makes you wonder about nature vs nurture. We don't see each other or talk often, but there's a deep and lasting connection there that is special.

I never, ever remember a time that I didn't know I was adopted. I always knew and always felt I was special. It's been an interesting life. I hope there's lots of time left. I've got lots of plans and lots to do.

People watching

I think you could say that I/we--my close circle--have taken people watching to a new level, an art form if you will. Think of standing in front of the Mona Lisa microanalyzing every brush stroke made by the artist, second-guessing the color of her eyes, her hair, her dress (?). Then think of Wayne and me sitting in Sam's--on some very comfy outdoor furniture, I might add--on a Friday afternoon watching humanity parade by.

We were there on legitimate business. Not a date. We had ordered 22 rotisserie chickens to feed Jackson's baseball team. They were to be ready at 4:00 p.m. but weren't. So, what's a true-blooded Southern gal to do? I had already done my shopping for the weekend. Well, for me it's watch the people go by and comment on what they're wearing--or not--how old the girl is, how wide her hips are, why the kids are barefoot, how many tattoos can one person actually have and how much do they cost?

Wayne was the first to spot an ex of a good friend of ours with a really poor excuse for a date? Girlfriend? Who knows? All I know is that I was tempted to call her and say "Bless your heart and good riddance!" Man! They circled us more than once, and I nearly caught a crick in my neck trying to get a good look so I could report to my "close circle" what I'd seen.

Then he spotted "Mrs. Wiggins"--you know, from the Carol Burnett Show. She was wearing a large houndstooth print dress with high heels. She was fairly attractive but had an enormously wide derriere and walked like something hurt.

Well, as you can see, Wayne saw and pointed out some interesting things in our time in Sam's. Maybe we should visit the art museum.....Nah, we'll just try parking lot of the BP next Friday.

Ok, you win!

I'll take the shirts to the cleaners so they'll be nicely starched and pressed. I'll pick the shirts up from the cleaners and hang them in the closet. And, when I can't stand it any longer, I'll take off the plastic wrap, the rubber bands, and the dry cleaning tickets. I really hate the rubber bands....