Happy List

Since it's been such a freakin gorgeous morning and our son is napping after running around the beach from 8:30 am until 11...I'm thinking of things that make me happy and one of them is sharing...

1. good dogs
2. the Panhandle of Florida
3. Grandparents and their histories
4. Ironstone California Symphony (white wine) & any Pinot Noir
5. people that have an awesome sense of humour
6. friends who are succeeding because they tried hard and I watched them make it...
7. seashells and sea creatures
8. Tennessee -- always nice to remember vacations in Gatlinburg and Knoxville
9. old college friends who knew you after high school
10. friends who are still like family
11. medium rare t-bones
12. fried oyster po-boys with tartar sauce and a cold Corona with lime
13. clean kitchens after dinner
14. un-asked for help with kids from someone besides your husband
15. opinions that make you think
16. smart people that I can admire and learn from
17 . good live music venues like the old Cajun Place or Hawk's Nest in PC (or all those cool joints in Nashville)
18. boats- any kind that floats
19. fishing
20. tent camping on cold nights
21. outdoor fire pits
22. writing
23. a good manicure
24. fresh strawberries
25. homemade smoothies
26. Chik-fil-A
27. the smell of Play-dough (salty!)
28. long days of summer
29. short days of winter (good for card playing, snacks, martinis and Scrabble- in that order).
30. Retired neighbors who always wave at you
31. The movie "Swingers"

a little help for your friends

I don't usually post alot here about charities and green information simply because we are inundated with that type of info all day on the net, news and in general. However, out of the goodness of my heart here are a few cool things to send your junk when your family (like ours) piles up in the garage with nowhere to send it.

sportsgift.org- nonprofit that gives sports gear to 40,000 underprivileged kids worldwide every year. This also accept larger donations from schools and professional organizations for uniforms and coaching equipment. This would be a great thing for your child's sports team to do together after a softball or soccer season. Send soccer balls, basketballs, volleyballs, baseballs, running shoes, shin guards, cleats, etc. call 949-388-2359.

rebounces.com- restores the ball's bonce then sells them at a deep discount for use at practice. this cuts down on landfills full of tennis balls. Also, balls beyond repair are cut up and used as scratch and noice preventers on the bottoms of school and hospital chairs and desks- practical!

joniandfriends.org & cbmus.org- send orthotics like crutches, wheelchairs, canes, knee braces for disabled adults and children in over 100 countries for disabilities and war injuries.

(Thanks to Oprah Magazine for this information)

It always give us such satisfaction when we give (anonymously) to our chosen charities each year...but I am always burdened with that nagging acknowledgement that it never feels like enough. I guess every bit does help, though.

tata for now kiddos...

Some 'maters are betters than others

During a little party we had last night with a mixture of family and friends from Phillip's work, my Mamaw sat down with two plates in front of her- one orange, one blue- both with a small but bright red tomato sitting on each plate. One had a napkin around it like a dress, and little embellishments around it to bling it up a little. The other, sat solitary and confident in it's simplicity and strength of character. Mamaw sized each one up, asked for a knife, cut them into pieces and proceeded to pinch the pieces to check for ripeness and sponginess. Next, she slowly chewed a piece of each, taking her time and ignoring our offers of palate cleansers like water or smelling coffee beans to make it a truly fair comparison.
Finally, she put the slow agonizing wait to an end and announced, "I think this one would taste best with mayonaise."
In the end, Mamaw picked Phil Roger's tomato over our Uncle Moe's tomato in a serious family competition that has sprung up between the two brother -in-laws who grow their own garden vegetables. Thus began the Memorial Day celebrations at our house last night, and though they ended surprisingly early (around 10) we did have a ball and are always proud of those family traditions we get to witness on certain occasions.
Maybe a little platinum chain on the 'mater wouldn't hurt next year. A little bling makes all the difference to my Mamaw...or was it really the flavor?

If you ever forget your parent's old phone number, they're probably under Nick's butt.

Let me explain: most of you who came by my folks house in King Point during our high school years may remember my art desk- a little wooden desk, previously my mother's, that was covered with signatures, random quotes, silly musings, song lyrics, and various items- all drawn with a colored marker of some color over a nice white paint job. My mom was probably never happy about that. It was a tradition over the years for my friends to stop in and write something on my desk, and I would also use it as a bulletin board of sorts to jot down phone numbers, important dates, and any other item a young girl finds important. My white phone sat nearby, ready for those important life-line phone calls, before cell phones came around, we would call our friends every day after school, then go meet to drive along Thomas Drive, or make plans for Friday after a football game.
I have been blessed to keep this desk with me since those days, and it is currently being used as the diaper changing table. I use the drawers for baby stuff, as my own pens, oils and address books and stationary are better suited high and dry from little hands. For the past two years, our Nick has laid his baby bottom on the changing pad strapped to the top of the that desk, much to my amusement. We never did buy a big nursery furniture set- why bother since soon we'll have little men, not babies in that room. So, we painted white shelves for toys, books, cd player for classical naptime music, and put together a room that looks pretty well "put together" and done in a blue ocean motif.
Except for that art desk. I checked it out this morning, laughing at the random musings from old friends. Here are some of the various items that have lasted since at least 1990:

• "Class of 92 rules"-- this is written by my girlfriends all over, many people who were so darn proud of being from that class. Were we not having the time of our lives- most of the time?
• "Cheerleaders suck"- this was probably me, not really recognizing the writing and I was generally an anti-cheerleading type who ironically had lots of best friends who were cheerleaders. Go figure.
• "Jane says...I'm done with Sergio"- my cousin wrote this while visiting from Clearwater one year, she also being a Jane's Addiction fan.
• " ATO rules"- this being from a boy I dated long distance (when were they not? It always made things much simpler and romantic) who LOVED his fraternity. He was a nice kid, and left me autographs all over my desk to remember him by.
• "AGAJ- this was a very obnoxious but cute name four of us gave ourselves in case anyone really cared. You know who you are. We were responsible for toilet papering many boy's homes in the Cove and King's point in retaliation of course.
• Signatures from KT G (miss Gillard), Darryl White, Ashley Hartsfield, Katie Ekman, Jalon, Amy Wilkes (my mom has a good friend with same name- not the same person), Christy Bourne, Amy Litt, Adria, and many others who are now famous in their own time.
• Ever so important phone numbers that I remember jotting down as soon as I came home from school- from memory or from a piece of paper someone had passed me in a hallway. One of them written only once, slightly faded, but at the time was a truly big deal- started in 234 and the boy lived on the beach. Hmm...could be one of many students who had a 234 number who lived on the beach, right?? Only I know whose number that was, and as it fades in time, will have that girlish memory of those long lost phone calls.

As this little desk holds up under my son's behind, I am contemplating rescuing it from our second son and putting in my art room near the keyboard, guitar and canvases to once again hold my collection of letters, mail, and random household items. I have thought about repainting it to pass down to my own children like my mother did.

but then I think... no. It's got way too much fun history on it that can never be collected on one spot again. Besides, how else are my sons going to learn about their mother's history in high school- it's all there in writing and so much more amusing than pictures.

a day of remembrance

While my child scoops out oatmeal for dinner with his hands like a caveman, spoon thrown on the floor, I am saddened to report that today I had to get out maternity clothes and wear one of them- shorts. Yuck. Only weeks now and counting till I can burn them all in a modern day altar to the end of my pregnancy days forever. Belly bands are so uncool, in my own opinion of course, I don't care how one spins it. This is what one must do in order to give birth, I suppose- you have to actually get pregnant and stay that way for nine months and just deal with it.
Hooray.
If you see a bright glow in the sky and ashes floating around like lightning bugs, that's me burning our clothes in our copper fire ring out back in a few months. You can smile and know that somewhere, out there, Jennifer Lynn is celebrating her new son and also- her old body.

excerpt for the day

I found this while revisiting one of my Best American Short Story compilations I've gotten every year since "91. This one, form 2005 edited by Michael Chabon, was written by Tom Bissell and is named "Death Defier". It is a short fiction about a war journalist in Afghanistan, including a misadventure with some newly elected "generals" in the remote parts of Central Asia, and his growing emotional withdrawal from all that he reports. I loved this excerpt:

" 'There really were, Donk thought, and thought again now, 'two kinds of people in the world; Chaos People and Order People. '
For Donk this was not a bit of cynical, Kiplingish-wisdom to be doled out among fellow journalists in barren intercontinental barrooms. It was not meant in a condescending way....Chaos People, Order People. Anyone who doubted this had never tried to wait in line, board a place, or get off a bus among Chaos People. The next necessary division of the world's people took place along the lines of whether they actually knew what they were. The Japanese were Order People and knew it. Americans and English were Chaos People who thought they were Order People. The French were the worst thing to be: Order People who thought they were Chaos People. But Afghans, like Africans and Russians and the Irish, were Chaos People who knew they were Chaos People, and while this lent the people themselves a good amount of charm, it made their countries go berserk, insane. Countries did indeed go insane. Sometimes they went insane and stayed insane. Chaos People's countries tended to stay insane.
Donk miserably pulled off his do-rag, the bloody glue that held the fabric to his skin tearing from his ruined eyebrow ....
'So tell me, Ahktar. What are we supposed to do here?'"

Thank you, Mr. Bissell, for your little nugget of great fiction writing from one journalism student to a real-life war journalist who actually went to Central Asia and reported first hand his own experiences in Men's Journal.

So I'm not the only one who feels this way

"We really are living in the age of the idiot, aren't we? Most people are so comfortable with their ignorance that common wisdom is no longer wise. My new rule? Whatever course of action everyone else agrees on, do the opposite."

AMEN.

This quoted from Michael Bienes, one of Bernie Madoff's early partners, during a Frontline interview while trying offer explanations of how Madoff could pull the wool over so many people's eyes. Bienes is not under investigation for any wrong doing (so far).