Of coarse they're natural bone, I got them from the devil himself

 

Happy Halloween everyone, moons nearly full and remember; life's too short to wear cheap beads.

Bliss Under Glass

Monday I got a surprise package in the mail. It was a scrunchy little brown box about 4 inches by 4 inches, squished on the corners like it was made from a bigger box. I love it…it took time to craft and I appreciate that. I spent a long time with it before I before takin the next step. It must have had nine different stamps…and I studied the outside just wonder’n what in the world would be comm’in to me like that. I didn’t recognize the post mark or the print, but it was rounded and small…so I thought for sure it was from a chubby short lady with a sense of adventure (cause of all the stamps)
Given I’m not paranoid…I finally stopped toying with it and cut the tape that held the corners together. It didn’t take a minute to recognize the headlines of my hometown newspaper wrapped around and poked in the sides of the box. Under that, the single layer of bubble wrap distorted a second set of round letters that I recognized in a minute as Blackberry Jam – Summer 2009.
Well, my heart did a flip-flop and I started salivat’n right there at the kitchen counter. Fresh blackberry jam..pure gold. Lord, the hours that go into that. A gift from the Gods…conjured up by a little round lady that used to live next-door to my Momma and remembered it was my birthday. Her note was short…”she knew I had a lot on my plate…and she hoped this would make it all taste better. X’s and O’s and a smiley face. Now that's a gift!

I know I often go on and on about watermelons…and I do love’um…the queen of the summer fruits, are made for shar’in and I love to share…but I’ve got a secret side…and it’s a little greedy. It comes out long about July when I see the tiny white blossoms I’ve been watchin’ since June give way to red; and long about the end of July, turn deep and sweet indigo, the color of temptation.

I say temptation cause they grow in places that usually have a “no trespassin” sign not too far away; they're usually across the road, on hills and hard to get to places. Places that are protected by a host of natures border guards; chiggers and poison ivy, thorns and knats. Even though I know I’m gonna get eaten, bitten and stabbed I go…cause they don’t last long.

So after I fight off the bees and swat at the mockin’ birds who treat me like the thief that I am, I eat’um right there, washed by the rain or coated in summer pollen, doesn’t matter, Kiss’um up to God and thank Miss Universe cause on New Year’s day I always share…it’s Deep Dish Love at our house…as traditional as black-eyed peas and greens. It’s my offerin’ for the gift for another year and another summer.

Soul Sellin' Part II

I hate clothes....I hate shopping for them, buying them, trying them on, changing them, ironing them...... Of all the Two-Bit Teenas....I am an anomaly. Lurlene can tell you the clothes she was wearing the day she met you. OraLee knows her fashions inside out. MerriLee, well she has an outfit for every holiday in the year....need some jewelry for Groundhog Day?? Dollars to doughnuts MerriLee has some. Each of the Teenas plans in advance for every event. They look for just the right color and design. Me...I start thinking about it five minutes before I am supposed to leave the house...and then wonder why I can't find anything appropriate to wear. I wish that someone would just come to my house, pull everything out of the closet, and then attach those Grr-animals tags so that I would know what to wear with what.

Once the Teenas all went on a cruise around some Greek Islands. On the night of the Captains Dinner, all the other Teenas had, of course, packed a special outfit. Not me...I figured black pants and a white cotton shirt with my dirty old sandals would take me anywhere. I was bunking with Lurlene who, after getting the strange lady out of the bathroom, was appalled at my outfit. She opened up her suitcase pulled out a dress and made me wear it to dinner. Pretty scary stuff.

Me and Lurlene goes a ways back and usually she puts up with me....but when she was getting married she was determined that I was going to dress appropriately. She even bought me a dress....it was flirty and cute and looked nothing like me. I went shopping and kept bringing home dresses which she promptly said made me look like an old maid. Finally she gave up and let me wear one of them....old maid and all. Lurlene is like that....she figured she rather have me calm down than keep winding me up. So....when you see the pictures, the other Teenas are bright and sparkly and I am the one in black.

At the wedding, each guest was given a small token as they left....a delicious treat made by MerriLee, a charm, and a fortune. My fortune read "Beware of all events requiring new clothes." My point exactly.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest-house
Every morning a new arrival
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house,
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyone.

Say I Am You: Poetry Interspersed with Stories of Rumi and Shams,
Translated by John Moyne and Coleman Barks, Maypop, 1994

Settin the Table

I got a new set of dishes the other day when Vera Lee and I were out "Junkin for Jeasus". It was a hard call because I must have at least twenty sets of dishes. I say dishes because they are not all created equal. Some are indeed fine China; like Momma’s wedding china, she said she gave it to me because she always hated it, I mean what does that say about the woman who parts with nothing…but this china. But be that as it may…
I got my first set of dishes when I was a teenager. Liberty Blue was “A Piece a Week” with every $10.00 purchase from the A&P. Now, I didn’t buy groceries, but my momma and my grandmomma, and my boyfriends momma and aunt Mae Lee would buy them for me and save them up for my birthday or Christmas and then spring’um on me in a “place settin” I have 10 place settins and kept them in my hope chest. But I stopped hop’n and gave them to my cousin…and then twenty years later had to buy’um back cause I was feel'n nostalgic.

I fell in love with another set I saw while pass'n time in Miller & Roads on my lunch hour. They were pricy…for back in the day…but I managed to pick up pieces and drop enough hints that I ended up with enough to host about eight folk…and, (this is big) serve stuff on actual match'n platters and servin bowls…not from pans on the stove. I didn’t give those away, I jes keep’um in the “mahogany china press-radiator cover that Buck built for me as a surprise. (They’ve got a gold rim and I’m too lazy to wash’um by hand)

Not to be forgotten are the sets Wilton Armetale (stolen from Steak and Ale by an ole room-mate cause they only paid her minimum wage after a year) that my friends still think are gonna poison them even though I tell them that it is made up of 17 safe base metals none of which will deposit led in their systems…now the food I serve is often more lethal than my Armetale! (I mean the cholesterol alone will take you out before the lead)

Let me tell you…every set of china tells a story in my house….if my plates could talk! I love to set the table. I do; nothing makes me happier than to see all those dishes laid out…just expectin folks to pull up a chair and share a feast…be it store bought fried chicken or New Years pork roast…the table for me is the center of the universe. ..a personal alter if you will from which all great joys will be shared. I may have fixed some bad food in my day, but I hope and pray that those around my table have never had a bad meal.

Now Vera Lee…tell’um about the Friendly Village
(PS, this table is actually at Dennis and Jude's Farm...I don't seem to have a picture of my table...hummm....there are lots of the kitchen though!)

Strike a Pose

Nobody poses like MeMe. She was just in Germany, France, Switzerland, and earlier in Egypt and Japan. MeMe gets herself around. She said she was "workin" but those new Coach Bags and "Spingolly" sunglasses tell me she was probably doin some flirtn' too. But be that as it may, VeraLee and I decided that we were gonna ask her for a "Posin" Lesson,(No, not Poison...although there are rumors about her and some very sick "Ex's").
We visited MeMe's Facebook page and it reads like a travelog...but best of all, every picture of her is just perfect. She does a Teena proud. She's laughin' and talkin' and shopin'and well, you can just tell, where ever she is there is lots of fun to be had. MeMe's like that! She learned a long time ago that a Happy Face hides...well....A Happy Face is what it takes to make the world a better place. She's our blond! So if you're readin MeMe...could you put us on your calendar? xxo, VL and TL.

Vera Lee Inpires Me

About Face

I was lookin’ at some new pictures the other day. Not good. I’ve crossed the line.
These were summer pictures and to be honest…this has been a hard season. Oh I still grin and pose, but I’m startin’ to wear a little of what I’ve been goin’ through on my face.

Its not “put up wet” wear…but you can see it in the eyes, they’re tired…not like that “lazy-eyed” tired you see in school pictures and on your driver’s license. This is more like “double-shift tired.”

At first I thought it was just that one batch, but it’s in all of them. Damn, I’m gonna have to practice a new pose in the mirror because the Teena’s love to take pictures. Oh, and I’m vain. I usually hide pictures that “don’t’ do me justice” and that pile seems to be growin. Soon I will have to say…ooops no pictures were taken this year..and everyone will know it’s a lie…cause I’m not even doin’ that as good as I used to.

Soul Sellin

Yeah... that Vera Lee is deep....deep in the mud....in over her head......While I have been stuck in the depths of the Frog Pond that white-haired weasel Lurlene has gone and issued me a throw down. Now...that is just plain mean.... Each day she sends me some countdown email with a big ole ticking clock.... She thinks I am ignoring her but I have been busy. You know it takes a lot of energy to sell your soul to the devil one day and try to buy it back with a lie the next. It is a long story and it has to do with my love for making a mess and playing with food and it really ain't worth telling but just let me ask you.....would you rather write a long, boring story or play with some pretzels and chocolate frosting?

Country Seasons

"Are not spices"

Mr. Claude and I headed to the "Farmacy" this weekend where we learned that this was the beginning on "Huntin' Season", and from Keith, who comes to fix the tractor each and every time we call (which is usually spring and about now) I learned that it was "chain saw" sharpn' season, and wood cutt'n season, and hay bail'n season, and time to sharpen the tines on the tiller, because you can plant one more patch of greens season.

I also learned it was midget football season, cause Keith couldn't come right away, he had to take his boy over to play a game "next county over". We're always glad to see Keith, in the country, you have to be prepared to sit a spell and catch up on what happened since the last time you called. He's right on time, but an hour later we're still talking about the season's and the reasons things happen the way they do.

My neighbor saw Keith's truck and knew right away that I'd soon be mopin' about the yard with not much to do, and before I knew it, he was ridin across the field; my knight on a "loaner". (Note, folks in the country don't often loan you their tractors) Mowin' just clears my head and drowns out the worry I'm startin to wear. I forget it all when I mow...Bobby knows that, he feels the same way, so I was grateful for his offer.

It's not "leaf" season yet...but it's startin. Mr. Claude and I fired up the grill, put on our sweaters and ate dinner on the porch. The moon rose round and full as a spotlight. (and you know Teena's love a spotlight) We opened a second bottle of wine and moved inside to light the fire I laid back in March, gettin ready for October and sofa sitt'n season.

Later on, with the mowin' done, I was faced with pull'n the weeds out of the "Man-scapin." God I hate that mound of red dirt. But I gave it my best for two years before I just said, I cann't do it! I walked away from it when the deer ate everyone of the day lillies. Gave it up for brush, when my Maples passed. Last year I had 21 watermellons from the vines I planted, this year, I couldn't bring myself to plant not even a cucumber.

But today the sun is bright and there's a west wind...a changin wind and I softened up a bit and headed out with my tools and thoughts of makin a clearn for what might be next year. That's when I found them, two little water melons. Must have been volunteers from last years crop. Still full of life...ready to grow. All I would have had to do was to pull the weeds back...but I didn't do it...and they never had a chance...choked out by the grass and pokeberry bushes. It made me think about how garden'in is a spiritual practice, you have to keep it up...or the weeds get in...and even the best seeds...can be lost. Everything needs "tendin." So I brushed those babies off, apologized to Miss Universe for neglecting her bounty and made a commitment to do better next year.

Watermellon days are gone for this year; like the hummers and the blackberrys. But that's okay...cause its time to come inside....time to weed out that what's chok'n my spirit and make way for the next season.