Welcome to my world!

My life's been crazy since my Daddy moved in with me immediately after my mother's death in October 2010. My one and only kiddo headed to college at Carolina at the end of August. So...I lived on my own, for the first time in my life, for a total of a blissful six weeks. Then, I started the parenting gig with my dad. He's a combination of a grouchy old man, a surly teenager and a temperamental toddler. Needless to say, I get very close to the brink of insanity sometimes. I get through life by finding the humor in difficult circumstances. And for some reason, I wind up in the weirdest situations. I couldn't make this stuff up. So I wind up having lots and lots crazy adventures which make great stories to share with my friends. Writing about my life is so therapeutic. My ramblings range from funny to sad to angry (full of cuss words) to sweet. While my focus is dealing with the trials and tribulations of being a parent to my Daddy, I have lots of random, totally unrelated posts. Whatever's on my mind. I love to make people laugh, and I'm happy to think my readers will get my strange sense of humor. And maybe, people who are in my situation will be encouraged. That's all I can hope for...

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Post Vacation Blues...

...I've got 'em. But since I'm trying to embrace this "Live in the Moment" thing, I'll just take a few minutes to list some of the things I want to come back to. In the meantime, I have to figure out how relishing pleasant memories figures into my new philosophy.

So here are some things that come to mind about my three amazing days in Florida. Boiled peanuts. That gray-green color of the ocean, and the smell and the sound of it. Palmettos. Oysters. Sandboils. Blazing heat. Cool water. Pink tan lines. Crazy loud rap music blaring next door at 1:00 in the morning. Remembering and repeating crazy stupid rap lyrics all weekend long. Laughing about the look on face the ne'er-do-well loser (who no doubt borrowed the house for the weekend) when Mr. Man walked over and shone the flashlight in his eyes and told him to turn it down. Joe Cocker. Holding hands and walking on the beach. Long, meandering talks. Companionable silence. Listening to Led Zeppelin on the car stereo. Riding with the top down. Getting lost on the way back to the airport and almost wishing I'd miss my plane. Best omelet of my life. Tomatoes sliced and prepared Polish style. Walking to the end of the boat dock and watching the storm in the distance. Bay leaves. Abalone earrings. Iron mermaid bottle opener. Japanese glass fishing floats. Juicy oranges and dark, sweet cherries. Strong, strong coffee. Gathering pieces of bark and twigs covered with lichen. Lying on the floor, looking up through the wall of windows and sketching the branches of the pine trees with all their weird twists and angles. Being guided up the steps to the house the first time in the dark. Walking in and smelling that rustic, wood lodge scent.Being told "Don't hurt yourself." More than once. And saying it. Both in the literal and figurative (funny) senses. Testing each other's vocabularies. Farther v. further. Worm in hot ashes. Waking up from a very long nap with chenille imprinted on my legs. Blue Moon beer with orange slices. Laughing so hard that a poot slipped out. Blaming the poot on the Blue Moon beer. Arranging our food in suggestive positions. Dude poking his finger in my mouth every time I yawned. Trying not to yawn. Making new friends. My beautiful pottery coffee mug. The beautiful soul who gave it to me just because I admired it. Helping her roll up miles of visqueen plastic left on a sandy hill - no doubt an abandoned redneck slip & slide. Getting so hot and dirty doing it but feeling good about getting rid of the ugly plastic. Getting in the cool water at the sandboil to clean off. Daring dude to get in, too, even though he didn't have a swimsuit. Knowing he'd take my dare to drop trou. And that his friends wouldn't bat an eye. Really good homemade gumbo.

I could go on and on, but I'll close now with an image so beautiful, it brings tears to my eyes. The sweet manatee who swam right up to our boat. So close that we could see the propeller scars on her back. It took my breathe away. Still does.

1 comment:

  1. The past is only useful if it inspires us toward right thoughts, right words, and right action in the present. Relishing pleasant moments certainly does; dwelling on negatives from the past usually doesn't. Ergo, oportet rectum ego secundum.