Wednesday, December 26, 2007


Raising teenagers is a lot like drowning...not a bad way to go once you quit struggling!

And so This Was Christmas

The best part is always Cookiefest
a tradition started when the kids were tiny.
we all got together and made cookies with them.
We kinda made them continue it for a while,
during those early difficult teen years
now they seem pretty  happy to be part of it again.

My friends and I are magic together.
So are our children.
They are bound together in ways too difficult to explain to outsiders.
The best gift we ever gave them was each other.

The family part went okay, too.
My mom and Mariah only went off on each other once and Terry and I were too busy trying to program my Ipod to pay much attention to them.
Mariah and Terry got Tom a Martin Backpacker guitar. It looks like a lute and comes in a backpack, made for camping . It's the most innovative thing I've known about in a long time and such a thoughtful gift.
things were relaxed and low-key. Mom didn't get too confused or cranky with me and I didn't join in or interfere in her and Mariah's dust-up, so that was good.
Caitlin liked her gifts. I got her the same Ipod Mariah and Terry got me, isn't that funny?
I got Mariah a gift certificate to a spa for a massage.She was very pleased.
Both of the girls were most thrilled with plastic Disney bubble bath like I got for them when whey were two. Who'd a thunk it?
Caitlin followed my old tradition of putting clues to the gifts on the tags, which I thought was cute.
I was blessed by a Christmas miracle. I let go of all my expectations of the day and it was fine.

Christmas night is always at Tom's Mom's ...
My nephew Kelley, the pagan policeman musician played his bagpipes,
Eileen and I wept over the death of her 20 year old cat,
my nieces Maddie and Sydney showed off their jewelry
Judy and I sneaked off for a quick review of the recent happenings with our kids.

I had a mini epiphany at church.
The pastor talked about that
when you can forgive
 you change from being a victim
 to being a hero
 in your life story.
I like that thought.
I wish allmy heroes forgiveness,

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Thanks for the music

I feel like I lost a part of my past.
"The leader of the band is tired"......

Part of the Plan:
I have these moments
All steady and strong
I’m feeling so holy and humble
The next thing I know
I’m all worried and weak
And I feel myself
Starting to crumble.

The meanings get lost
And the teachings get tossed
And you don’t know what you’re
Going to do next.
You wait for the sun
But it never quite comes
Some kind of message comes
Through to you.
Some kind of message comes through.

And it says to you...

Love when you can
Cry when you have to...
Be who you must
That’s a part of the plan
Await your arrival
With simple survival
And one day we’ll all understand...

I had a woman
Who gave me her soul
But I wasn’t ready to
Take it.
Her heart was so fragile
And heavy to hold
And I was afraid I might
Break it.

Your conscience awakes
And you see your mistakes
And you wish someone
Would buy your confessions.
The days miss their mark
And the night gets so dark
And some kind of message
Comes through to you
Some kind of message
Shoots through --


There is no eden or
Heavenly gates
That you’re gonna make it to
One day
But all of the answers you seek
Can be found
In the dreams that you dream
On the way

Sweet dreams,Dan.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Damn Yankees

There are people who still persist in thinking we here in the southland are

crazy from the heat

married to our cousins

have no front teeth

and carry chewing tobaccy in our back pockets.

We never tell them its not true

because then they will all want to move here...

so when a guy from New York admired my yoga symbol necklace, saying"I didn't know you knew about Yoga down here"

I said,

"Whut? Yall aint never heared of Sweet Ohm Alabama?"

Monday, December 10, 2007

Topuwops syndrome

People say menopause is hell.

Not so

Not me

A few little hot flashes compared to pregnancy and periods?


People say menopausal woman have mood swings.

not so

not me

I never have mood swings.

 I occasionally have topuwops....

Tired of Putting Up With Other People's Shit.

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Christmas Lights

Marti looked out the window and sighed. She turned around to see if her husband Tom had noticed, but his eyes were still on his book. She sighed again. By the time she seemed in danger of hyperventalation, he looked up.

"what's the matter?" he  asked his pregnant wife. He really didn't want to hear the answer. He loved her and loved the unformed idea of the child they had created together, but sometimes these days she went away inside herself to a place he couldn't follow.

"I know I'm being silly", she began, the eyes of a petulant 4 year old in her face,"but I just really wish we could go to the Fair."

They had jumped into adulthood all at once, these two.Within a month, she had graduated from college, gotten her first"real job',while he had started back to grad school. Then , a welcome surprise, they were pregnant.

Oh, they weren't children in age, 25 and 29, but they were adventurers. They had lived in a tent, climbed mountains, traveled all over the west, earning just enough money to get them to the next town.

This adventure was a little scarier than most for him.Marti was the one who flung their dreams against the sky and urged him on to follow. Now, she was often moody and frightened, depending on him to hold her heart safe.

"I know I'm being silly, but I jsut dont' know how to get out of this funk. I don't know how to feel better." she sniffled.

"I know", he said.

He got out the Christmas lights.

"In October?" she asked.

But she was laughing.

"You can't be depressed with Christmas lights up!" he laughed back at her.

Soon they were cuddled on the floor in the glow.

And everythng was fine.

They didn't need unseasonal Christmas lights very often.

She was cheery by nature and he was kind and patient.

The kids got bigger.

Life went on.

They always laughed togther like the adventurers they were, even though now their adventures were watching dance recitals and softball games.

Then there was just the two of them in the house again.

They cuddled on the floor once more and laughed when they were stiff getting up.


But there was the arguement.

Who knows what caused it.

They even forgot.

But the anger took on a life of its own and sat with them at dinner for days.

Until she drove up one evening and there, in May, was a blaze of lights in front of her house.Sheran out of the car into his arms.

The neighbors wondered, but didnt' ask.

Christmas lights work miracles.

Wishng you light,



Tuesday, December 4, 2007

Another Year

We got our tree!

We listened to John Denver and the Muppets.

We discussed the merits of hanging garbage on the tree (Mariah says "garbage" , I say treasured recycled angels  made from cans and snowmen from light bulbs)

We wore our hats and got the bemused dude at the tree farm to take our picture.

Just like every year....

Weird Random Confession I Just Have to Get Off My Chest

My name is Marti and I feel more religious when I hear "Free bird" than "Amazing Grace."


Sunday, December 2, 2007

Retraction ,Satisfaction,Restitution, Prostitution

I got up at 7 and went to Yoga.... maybe I am over-meditated.

LOL, I like that one....

The exercise has really helped me and I am back to my annoyingly chipper self.

I walked a mile ,  went and grocery shopped for my mom, took her to the Consignment Shop (yes, I brought her back, too)

I bought the girls' Big Things for Christmas.

I can't tell what it is, because they sometimes read me too.

Victoria, my little child I babysat, moved and I got laid off my tutoring job untill they get more business. I was wondering how we were going to make it, when , will wonders never cease, teachers got a raise!

So...once again the fat is pulled out of the fire, so to speak!

Are you folks from outside the Southern Limits familiar with Hoe Cakes? They are made with cornmeal fried really crispy in a pattie. They are so named because farmers in the feild used to cook them over a fire on the flat side of a hoe.

Tom makes them as a special treat every once in a while.

"Daaaaddy, " Caitlin pleads, (the longer the word, the more sincere the request), "Make me another one of those Slut Biscuits, will you?"