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{Friday, June 20, 2003}

Mammy, How I Love Ya...

Let's get one thing straight: I love my mother. She is smart, beautiful, thoughtful, experienced, and kind to old people, animals and her family. Whenever I have a dilemma about right and wrong, I use the old vacation Bible school mantra, "What would Jesus do?" only I think "What would Mamma do?" and everytime I get the right answer. She is one of my heroines.

That said, she has this little thing that drives me absolutely nuts. (Yes, I know some of my things drive her nuts, too, but this is my blog; she can get her own.) The best way to explain this, I think, is to give an example. Last night we were talking, and I thanked her for a toy car she'd sent for G's fleet. Here's what she could have said:

IMAGINARY MOM: Oh! I forgot to tell you, I had supper with a couple I'm friends with, and they gave me that car to send G. You should write them a little thank-you note. Here's their address.

IMAGINARY ME: Okay, I'll do that. (Next subject.)

Let it be noted that I do not know these friends of hers. Never met them, never even passed them on the street.

ACTUAL MOM: Oh, I forgot to tell you, I had supper with Mavis and Boris Tittle last night----well, I'd stopped by with some corn on the cob I got on sale at the grocery...they were having a sale, and I just couldn't pass up that fresh corn, but it was way too much for me to eat all by myself, so I thought, "I should just run on by Mavis and Boris', and take them some of this corn, they sure do like it--- so I did, and when I got there, I could see that Mavis was just worn out...and who wouldn't be, that poor woman is just about down to a shadow from taking care of Boris since he had his by-pass surgery...thank goodness they're moving into managed care until he gets better, maybe she'll finally get some rest. I keep telling her she's no good to anyone if she gets sick too---or injured! She has to help him move everywhere, and if he were to fall, well, it would really be a mess for both of them. So she and I were talking about the corn, and Boris hollered from the other room, so I went in to chat for a minute, and he just seemed real weak to me, and I didn't like his color. He says he feels fine, but I'm not sure he does, he has so many ups and downs since that surgery. So between Mavis being so tired, and Boris looking so peaked, I just thought to myself, "Now the last thing they need is to have to worry about supper," so I said, "I'll tell y'all what, I'm just going to run on home and roast this corn up. I have a pork shoulder that's been cooking all day, and it should be right ready to pull and add some barbeque sauce to, and I think I have some buns...well, if I don't, I'll just zip down to the grocery and pick up a package...and I have those butter beans Edna Mae gave me a big bag of, so I'll cook those, and fix some slaw ...and maybe pack up the rest of that good sour cream potato salad Joyce brought over yesterday, and I'll bring it back over, and we'll have supper. How does that sound?" Well, they thought it sounded pretty good, and Boris said he thought he might be able to eat a little and Mavis allowed that it sure would be nice not to have to cook, well, it was so hot that day, and I already had all that food more or less ready, so that's what we did. And while we were eating, Mavis remembered she'd found this little car (I'd told her G really liked cars, and was starting to get some, and that you didn't want her to only have stuffed animals and dolls, just because she's a girl.) so she jumped up and went in the den, and came back with just the sportiest little car and gave it to me to send to you. I have their address, you should write them a little thank you note, it'd just really perk up their day, I take them all the pictures you send of G, and they just love looking at them....well, their son isn't married, and he's probably fifty or so, and he could be gay, so there may never be any grandchildren, and lately they've been worried because they think he may be having some problems with drugs......what is that clicking sound? Is that a lighter? Are you smoking? I thought you quit smoking."

Well, you get the picture.
posted by Celia 11:01 AM

{Thursday, June 19, 2003}

Jungle Drip

It is raining like hell outside, has been for two days now. Whatever happened to our famous Florida 20-minute daily showers?

Well, I was going to post another rapier-witted political sneer, but shoot, nobody every reads them anyway. (sigh) It is so hard to get you guys mad! Still, if one or two of you are jonesing for something interesting, here's a link to Mark Steyn's article on his visit to post-war Iraq.

Also, I am repeatedly peeling tape from a DVD cover off my unshaven arms (who knew I'd need to?), as G has decided it's a band-aid and wants to fix me up. (So, home-hint: If you ever run out of tape, that stuff they tape a DVD shut with lasts forever.) This is an improvement over her previous activity: selecting a big bottle of dishwashing liquid from under the sink and walking around licking the spout and saying, "Eeeeeuck!" Then, it goes with saying, doing it again. But the point is, none of this stuff is conducive to serious thinking.

More later, I think it's time for somebody to take a nap. If and when I wake up, and my eyes aren't taped shut, I'll try again later.

posted by Celia 7:07 PM


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