Mama Had An Eventful Week

I had a long, rather fragmented conversation with my crazy mama this morning. From what I can gleen, she has spent the last week with “Kenny” a resident of the Doy Mobile Home Park (a respectable and exclusive neighborhood, I’m sure).

“At least this one’s gotta job. Been at it 25 years.”

“That’s certainly an improvement.”

“He’s a real gentleman. Couldn’t ask for more. He drinks though, heavy on the weekends. But he invited me over and next thing I knew we’s coming out here to get me some clothes and I stayed a whole damn week. I think he fell in love.”

“We went over to a friend a his’s house to fix a hot water tank and I pissed his friend off cause I knew more ’bout plumbing than he did. He said something about “that woman” and I said “Listen here, I gotta name buddy, and if you call me ‘that woman’ again I’ll knock all six feet three inches of you on your ass!” I ain’t gonna be disrespected.”

“Anyway I cooked and cleaned and played Susie Homemaker for the week. We didn’t have no threesome though. Hell, we didn’t even have a twosome.”

“Say what?”

“No, he was a real gentleman.”

Suddenly, the phone call I got a few days ago made sense. See, several years ago Mama called complaining about her luck with men. I jokingly suggested maybe she should just try a woman. So mom called the other night and said, “Was you serious when you said I ought to try a woman?”

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“I figger a woman knows what a woman wants.”

“Probably so.”

“I cain’t say it’s been a fantasy of mine or nothing, but I am curious.”

“Is there something you’re trying to tell me?”

“No, not yet.”

I can only piece together that she and Kenny were toying with the idea of inviting another Klassy Lassy over to the Doy Park for an evening of enchantment. But I digress…

“I got me a new cell phone. Its a Kee-uh-sarah. You gotta pen, I’ll give ya my new number. If you know of any silver haired single men lookin’ fer a good woman, you can give it to ‘em. Hell, give it to your boss if he ain’t happy. How old is he?”

“About your age. But, aside from his being married, I don’t see that being a match.”

“Well, he’s probably going through a midlife crisis if he’s my age. I don’t want nunna that.”

“Um yeah.”

“I don’t pay a thing for this plan. It’s through Virgin Mobile. I get 250 free minutes a month and they roll over if I don’t use ‘em.”

“What do you mean you don’t pay anything?”

“I get it for free cause I’m poor.”

“What?”

“It’s a new program. You oughtta spread the word.”

“I will not. That’s ridiculous.”  (and it is, I’m all for helping the less fortunate. I don’t begrudge them a mobile phone for emergencies, but a free phone and 250 free minutes a month for NOTHING? Come on now.)

“Why?”

“It just is.”

“What you want for Christmas?”

“I can’t think of a thing.”

“You ever wear that purple shirt?”

“What purple shirt?”

“That one I give you.”

“Oh, yes.” I lied. Last Christmas, she gave me a purple microfiber shirt with black buttons. It smelled like hot asphalt even after two washes. I donated it to the Goodwill.

“I want us to have our picture made. That’s what I want for Christmas. We can wear matching purple outfits in memory of your sister.”

“Well, I’ll see what I can do when I’m home for Christmas.”

“I gotta get this place cleaned up. But I need some help.”

“I’ll help you, but I’ll do it my way.”

“I don’t want you throwing away all my fleece pajamas.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. But there’s plenty of stuff I WILL throw away. You don’t need 40 bottles of shampoo.”

“I finally got a towel bar up in that bathroom. A guy put it up for me. But the shower still ain’t fixed right, they’s a panel needs put up.”

“What does that involve?”

“Two screws.”

“Well why haven’t you done it then?” (This semi-repaired shower has been a topic of conversation for months.)

“I’m tard.”

“Well, what’s your excuse for the months it’s been that way? If you could muster the energy to cook and clean for Kenny all week, you can put in two screws and have a shower that’s fixed.”

“Maybe I’ll feel like it after I take me a nap. I ain’t got a bit of energy.”

“Then go take a nap. But when you get up, fix your damn shower.”

“All right baby, mama loves ya.”

New TSA Bumper Stickers

Please note: no political statement was made nor opinion expressed in the creation of this post.

A Thanksgiving Recap

Last Wednesday, Darling and I loaded up my little brown bus and headed to West Virginia for the Thanksgiving holiday. We got into town just in time to have  a great dinner with my parents. The following day, Dad, Darling and I took a tour of one of my projects back home before heading to the big Thanksgiving get together.

The big feast was held at my uncle’s new house in what can best be described as a neighborhood in the process of gentrification. It’s a cool house, completely redone inside, surrounded by charming houses that were no doubt showplaces when they were new. But the past 100 years have seen the neighborhood go from largely Jewish to largely despondent. It was the theatre of the living sitting on the front porch. I don’t mean to suggest the neighborhood felt unsafe, that wasn’t the case, but there were a lot of grown folks riding bicycles, one neighbor appeared to be running some sort of nursing home out of her parlor, and various “unusual” looking characters walking around.

And, of course, our family had to add to the spectacle. The hosting uncle has a cool antique wheelchair–the story of how he acquired it is unknown to me. But at any rate, after the beer kicked in, he was giving several of the younger kids rides down the street in the thing. After crashing one kid into a car with it it was decided it would be safer if he were the passenger. So, if you happened to be driving through the ghetto Thanksgiving evening and saw a drunk white man cruising around the street in a wheelchair, well, you should have stopped to say hello.

Naturally, I whipped out the camera phone:

Such are the things that memories are made of. The food was great, everyone ate too much, and we enjoyed each other’s company. (Darling and I lost our toll money to the younger cousins at a game of cards, but I’m not bitter.) And a final thing I’m thankful for: my youngest brother, who gave up his comfortable bed and his choice parking space at the parents house. This turned out to be a particularly big sacrifice when every bird in the northern hemisphere decided to stop over for the night in the trees that overhang the street parking area at home. Poor kid’s car looked like someone had paintballed it with bird shit. (If you’re reading, I owe you a car wash!)

Why Did This Have to Happen in West Virginia??

As if West Virginia doesn’t get a bad enough rap, now we have THIS story. Where to begin with this one? Apparently, Melissa Williams, an enchanting beauty:

knocked on her estranged husband’s door. (Naturally, they live just a few rooms down from one another at a motel). Her hubby and his friend were inside, knocking back a few drinks, and the stunning Missus Williams asked the gentlemen if they would like to perform oral sex on her. While her husband declined, his friend took her up on the offer until he went downtown and realized that she must have been out of Summer’s Eve. Because he was overwhelmed with odor, the friend refused to make Melissa’s kitty purr, and that’s when things got ugly. Bitch whipped out a knife and told the men “ “Somebody is going to eat my pussy or I’m going to cut your fucking throat.”  Missus Williams is Klassy with a “k”, friends. I really hope, once she serves her time, that she will move to Connecticut or some other state that can handle this sort of headline.

Thankful For Thanksgiving

Today I’m thankful that tomorrow I will be loading up the bus and heading up to see my friends and family in West Virginia. I’m thankful for the dozens, literally, of cousins I only get to see a few times a year, for all the good food we will be eating, and for the bottles of wine we will no doubt consume. I’ll be extra thankful if I beat all of the aforementioned cousins at cards and can win enough money to pay the tolls.

Thankful I Can Focus!

Today I am thankful that my boss is spending the week at his beach house. Not because it means I can goof off the few short days I am here but because I can actually be at work and focus on my to-do list. Rather than facing the constant barrage of distractions that seem to happen when he is here.

Thankful The Decorating is Done

Well…almost. We still have to decorate the outside of the house. But today we got both Christmas trees up and all of the inside of the house done. My back aches. Everything we own is now covered in glitter. But it’s done and it looks great! Ready for a great holiday season!!

Thankful for my Blog Buddies

Today I’m thankful for my blog buddies. When I started this blog about three years ago, I could not have imagined finding the sort of comradery that exists in the blog world. Thanks to all of you who have stuck around, and for some reason still enjoy reading what I have to say!

Thankful for Darling

Today I am thankful for my Darling. For making me laugh, for making “home” more than just a place where all my stuff is, and for slowly learning all of my flaws (not that I have any) and loving me anyway

How, Exactly?

I got my usual call from my crazy mama this morning on the way into work.

“I just got back from a blind date that lasted four days!”

“Must have been a good one.”

“He was a real gentleman.” She said with some disappointment in her voice. (For some reason I felt like quoting Steel Magnolias “I bet he takes the dishes outta the sink ‘fore he pees in it.”, but I didn’t)

“Well that’s great.”

“His name is Al. Short for Alan. And he kinda looks like Alan Jackson.” I have some vague knowledge that she is speaking about a country singer, but without Google, I could not get a visual.

“Sounds very handsome.”

“Well, I just wanted to call and say hi. I’m gonna eat my cereal and go back to bed. This time change has me all screwed up.” Yeah, couldn’t be because you were on a four-day long date. And, how exactly, does the time change have her screwed up? I generally have a few days after a daylight savings switch in which I wake up earlier than I want, or don’t feel sleepy when the clock says I should. But this would not be a factor if I didn’t HAVE to be up at a certain hour–a concept she has never known.

“I got my days and my  nights all screwed up cause of it!” Really? Cause we are talking about AN HOUR change that happened two weeks ago. Besides, when you don’t have a job, children, or any responsibilities at all, does it really matter if you sleep an hour later? This whole concept confuses me.