Peapicker's Bay

15 Forrester

2007-06-20T19:47:00.000-07:00

One of my oldest and dearest friends, Lisa, has been one of my closest friends for over 30 years. She is a friend of the deepest and most heartfelt kind. She gets me and I get her, always have. Her parents had their 50th wedding anniversary party at a swanky place in Des Peres this past weekend. I felt kinda uptown, like I always do with her family. In lieu of gifts they asked people to write letters, so here is mine.

15 Forrester

I grew up knowing if I could just get there, she’d take care of the rest.
That’s the way it was with Shirley, she always took care of everything.
Even for the stragglers, like me.
Her living room was filled with long-legged girls with big hair and big plans.
She listened, laughed and shook her head at the chaotic silliness.
They all crammed in the bathroom down the long narrow hall for one last bit of hairspray, I sat in the kitchen with her. She handed me 10 dollars and said,
“Here. Wet Willy’s is a water slide, go, have fun.”
How’d she know I didn’t know what Wet Willy’s was?
How’d she know I didn’t have the money to go?
I don’t know how she knew, but she always did. She was so in tune. Years and years went by and she read my face and took care of things. She never once allowed me to be embarrassed by what I didn’t have or what I didn’t know. She made me feel worthy and valued.

The white dove was the sign I was close.
Glan Tai, Glan Tai, Glan Tai over and over in my head.
If I could just get there, she’d take care of the rest. And she always did.
She is steadfast in her faith, love for her children and compassion for anyone who is lucky enough to be in her path. I am a lucky one.

He was tall and together. He wore sharp suits took his family to church.
Bright summer Sundays, he waited at the front door.
Fussy sleepy girls. C’mon Jeff. He told corny jokes as we piled in his shiny black car.
He shook hands and greeted the church members, I felt proud to walk in with them.

Jerry established a deep sense of tradition in his family. He created great memories for his children and kept the heartstrings and family ties strong and steady for them.
He wore his captain’s hat as we cranked up Steve Miller’s greatest hits.
“Sit up there, Fister, we won’t let ya fall off!” Jerry said as I inched to the front of the boat.
Long boat rides in the Ozark sun.
They say sometimes you get a glimpse of heaven while you’re here on Earth.
That was it for me, right there at 15 Forrester, at the lake house, and on that boat.
Anywhere the Burnett family is, is my glimpse of heaven.

They taught Lisa to be a loving, forgiving and compassionate friend. They taught her the importance of acceptance and letting people be who God intended for them to be.
But most of all they taught her that she has value. That she is loved and is worth loving.

She is a soulful and thoughtful mother to Taylor, Michael and Nick. She celebrates them because they are worth being celebrated. They are at the center of her. The heart of her.
She listens, she laughs and she loves. She is my golden friend.

So, congratulations Jerry and Shirley and thank you for great times, great laughs and great memories. Thank you for 15 Forrester and all that it means to me.
But, mostly, thank you for Lisa.

I got the job.

2007-05-24T19:12:00.000-07:00

I got a job today. I'm super happy about it. It's a Canadian company. My first day is Tuesday. The job requires a passport, so it sounds like a tid bit of travel is forthcoming. Yay me.

Not another day.

2007-05-14T10:03:00.000-07:00

No more medicine. Sick of it.

Can't think straight. Fuzzy all the time. Inability to finish a simple task. Can't remember shit.

Not another day.

Going to the bike trail with my iPod. I'm gonna walk this shit out.

A few lessons from Santa Cruz.

2007-05-11T18:01:00.000-07:00

A few years ago I made a trip out to California to visit some friends and so-called family. The first part of the week was with a group of girls and I had the time of my life. The second half was sheer hell. I won't go into the details, but, I can tell you that I did take some very valuable things from the hell days.

One day was spent in Santa Cruz. I went shopping and ran across a book called, "How To Be Happy, Dammit: Cynic's Guide to Spiritual Happiness" I put a pic of the cover up top.

Here a little part of that book that struck a cord with me regarding grief, for some reason this made sense to me (which doesn't happen often.)

....You feel this Arty guy's got it pretty right. Whe he says reminds you of a tip your gardner friend told you. Some plants are only meant to last for a certain season or a certain time. (said your gardner friend). If you try to make them live longer, you will be a bad gardner...

And yet another gem:

...You are reminded of yet another wise thing your gardner friend told you--this time about a dying purple plant you once had in your home. You had been keeping this plant in direct sunlight, feeding it plenty of water, spoiling it silly. However, rather than blossom at your touch, it was perishing. When you asked your gardner friend about it, he chuckled and explained: "This breed of plant thrives best in darkness--with very little water." You are surprised. You had thought that all plants craved lots of water and lots of sunlight. Now you know: some need less to live on, same crave being left alone. And the same goes for people.

You--and those you've befriended/worked with/slept with--each of you--just like plants--comes with your unique feeding manual. You each have your own needs and speeds for growth. You must read each person's instruction manual carefully--then proceed with caution.

Those are just a few of the bits of gold in this book. I have read this book hundreds of times, I don't know why this happened to reach me like it did, but it did and I'm glad.

Here's the other thing I cherish from that day in Santa Cruz, it is a short poem on a print that I read over and over and over and it goes like this:

Friendship

I'm never sad - I never moan

because I find myself alone

For my sky there hangs a star

A wild bird warbles from afar

A rose is nodding on it's stalk

A breeze sighs to me as I walk

And in my heart - oh blest and true

There sings a memory of you

I'm not a literary person, so I have no idea where this poem came from. There's no signature on the print. Might be a famous poem, might not be, I have no idea. But, it's true and it speaks to me.

So, while the last few days of my trip to California totally sucked, I did bring back a few things that reached me. Through all the muck and suck, these things have helped me throughout the past few years. Not sure or care how or why, just glad they did.

Maybe you can see the goodness in them too.

If I ever make it back to Santa Cruz, I won't think of the hell part. I'll just remember the good I found there. I'm glad for that.

Speaking of hair.

2007-05-07T18:36:00.000-07:00

I drank a bottle of wine and pulled a Britney yesterday. Yep, you guessed it. I got all my hair cut at a cheap salon.

I think my regular sweet little fru fru hair stylist is back on herione. Last week I asked for hightlights, which usually turn me me into Mary Tyler Moore throwing up my hat, but what I got was more like an inmate of Cell Block H when I realized that she completely fried my hair. But, bless her heart, she was so thrilled to see me I guess she got carried away. So I thought. The longer I stayed, the more I realized I was in the midst of a hair stylist jumping the shark.

So for a week, I dealt with fried, dead, overprocessed ruined hair.

Not good.

I went to lunch with my friend, Jennifer, today and she said she loved it. But, she's been gone for a week and I think she was just missed me and she was on cold medicine.

Poppy is a closer friend, you know how I know for sure? Because she said, "Well, it doesn't really look like "your" hair." Not really saying it looks bad, just not to the caliber she is use to seeing.

In the world of Lisa, I really could and should be in orbit right about now. And if I thought that would make my hair grow faster, I'd already be there.

But, it won't.

And Paula is gone and I can pretty much bet she had little or no hair last Friday when she drew her last breath.

So, what am I whining about? This is the kind of shit that really makes me wonder about myself.

Life storm.

2007-05-06T20:29:00.000-07:00

I'm in the middle of a terrible storm and I can't seem to find my way to anything that looks familiar. There is so much debris flying around it is impossible to make my way out.

Everything I know is so scattered and broken. Glass everywhere, I'm afraid to step in any direction for fear of further damage. What do people do when they are in the midst of a life storm? I'm in a metaphoric trailer with thin walls, cheap foundation, duct taped windows, water damage, a few flowers in coffee cans. If you'd drive by, you'd never in a million years guess.

All the goodness that I was so sure I held inside, is seeping out. I'm reminded of the irrationality of my ideas and thoughts. I'm a little perplexed as to what happened to my self worth, that leak was so slow I didn't even notice.

I would like to come out of the corner that I've been pushed into. I would like a few options. I would like for one single idea to be embraced. One single day to be met with something other than reprehension. Just one single day.

Just let me catch my breath so I can find my way out of this storm to safe and calm winds.

Poor Guy.

2007-04-26T19:59:00.000-07:00

My little one was fresh out of the bath tonight when he climbed up in my lap and tucked his head in my neck. He's still little enough to where I can faintly smell the baby. Or maybe I just want to so badly that I think I can.

He said, "Mommy, kids at school said you are fat."

He wouldn't look at me, he just kept his face buried flat against my skin. As he twirled my hair he told me that Nicole told him that Jeremiah and Hunter told her that "Baylor's mom is fat."

I asked him what he thought about that.

He said, "I don't know. I don't want to talk about it." But, I knew he did.

I said, "Did that make you sad?"

He said, "Yes."

I said, "Sweetie, it's ok to tell me how you feel. I know you don't want to hurt my feelings."

He said, "Well, I'm sorry, but kids at school say that you are fat."

I said, "Are you embarassed?

He said, "Kind of."

I said, "What should we do?"

He said, "I love you, but, I was wondering if you could drop some weight."

I said, "I'll try. Thank you for telling me and I love you too."

I felt sorry for him. I know there are so many ways to dissect this situation. I know there are so many opportunities to teach and learn from this exchange. But, the fact is, he's right, they're right and I'm sorry he's embarassed.

The only redeeming thing was that he really didn't want to hurt my feelings. He's a very sweet boy. I felt sorry that they teased him. I felt sorry I was the reason.

Poor guy.

What would it take?

2007-04-25T06:57:00.000-07:00

What would it take for me get drugs out of my life, once and for all? I've been dealing with drug use all my life, whether it be for recreational use, manufacturing, transporting, sale, purchase, intent to use, intent to manufacture, drug charges, prison sentences, "It's not mine." "It's not that big of a deal."

Well, yes it is. To me, it is.

I don't care what these people intend or don't intend. I don't care what their level of involvement is.

ANY level of involvement is, in my book, wrong and I want it out of my life.

I thought back today about when the first time I remember someone close to me having an involvement with drugs. To the best of my recollection it was around 9 years old. I'll be 44 years old in July.

I'm sick of it.

I want it out.

I want it OUT.

It is wrong. It's illegal. It robs people of their families and dreams.

I want it OUT!!!

Poppy hit me and I'm tellin'

2007-04-23T18:48:00.000-07:00

Ok ok, since Poppy busted me out for not posting on this silly blog and since she hit me with some pretty good questions, I figure I'll go ahead and answer them. Although, she probably already knows the answers, I'll go ahead and humor her and the other 2 people who might happen on this blog.

1. Are you ever gonna update that blog of yours, now that you finally have one?

Yes, I am. I've been meaning to for days, ok, weeks, but like so many other things, I figure it out how to do it then I dump it to the wayside. Then I got to thinking....why don't I update this? Why don't I say what's on my mind? Why don't I just lay it all out? Oh hell, I don't know, maybe because I'm afraid if I start I'll be like Forrest Gump and his running, I'll get started and God knows when I'll stop.

But, I guess the main reason is that I'm funny about who I tell things to. I'm not worried about how I'll come across. I'm not really worried about connecting with an audience. I just don't like to give much of myself away. I'm snobbish, picky, and down right highfalutin when it comes to who is close to me and who gets to know things.

2. What's the single funniest Baylorism you've ever heard?

Well, this is the hardest question you could have possibly asked me and you know why...because little Baylor is a funny, funny kid. So....let's see....the first thing that came to mind is when he asked me when he was born. I said, "June 12, 1999." He said, "OH MY GOD ARE YOU FREAKEN KIDDING ME???!!! I was born on my birthday?"

3. You and I have a weekend in which our children and our men aren't our concerns. Where do we go and what do we do?

Where would we go? Oh that's an easy one. We'd fly to Madgeburg Germany and sit in Dix's kitchen.

What would we do? All I want to do is sit in her kitchen.

4. Does the beer really taste better at my house? And if so, would you be willing to make a statement to the people looking to buy my house?

Yes, the beer is best at Poppy's house. That's a well-known fact. Of course, I'll make a statement. Hell, I've been saying that for years. I do, however, think it's high time you sold your house. I'm ready for you to live on this side of the river. I'm ready for you to be out of that neighborhood.

5. What's the best part about parenting a 17-year-old young man?

Well, that is another loaded question. As hard as this stage is in parenting, I love how close we are. I love that we find the same things funny without having to say a word. This is a very scary and wonderful time in his life and now I am just doing what I can to ensure that he always wants to come home. I hope it works out because he sure has brought a whole lot of joy to my life in the past 17 years. It ain't all been cartwheels, but it's been damn close.

2007-03-29T20:25:00.001-07:00

"Fa gow we"

2007-03-29T08:12:00.000-07:00

Ancient indian tribe best known for getting lost frequently.

When the Fa gow we's went on a hunting trip and became lost, they would send a young brave up a tree to see which direction they should go or to see where they were at.

While he was up there the indians at the base of the tree would yell,"Where the Fa gow we"? This is how they got their name.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Fa+gow+we

"Blew up my spot"

2007-03-28T12:07:00.000-07:00

To try to make someone look stupid by breaking through a facad, lie, exaggeration, or distorted truth. Usually used when a guy or chick is trying to hype themselves up, and someone calls them on it.

"Yo, she knew I didn't have no damn real Juicy bag, she done blew up my spot."

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=blew+up+my+spot&defid=2321947

"Mantastic"

2007-03-27T07:19:00.000-07:00

Feeling fantastic after the successful completion of a particularly [macho] feat.

Following his fifth keg of beer, Vern ripped the horn off of his pet [narwhal], and then nailed his porn-star girlfriend for hours. Subsequently, he felt mantastic.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=mantastic&defid=1744819