Tuesday, December 29, 2009

The Plunge

A receptacle of necessity.
Dumped on.
And in.
Stagnate and Dingy.
Stained.
A container of waste.
It.
Me.
{One in the same.}
Clogged and compacted.
Full of poison.
It overflows.
So do I.
Plumbing problems are always internal.
And sometimes you just have to sit in your own stink.
Sit and Smell.
Cold and contaminated.
Then with a quick repetitious suck.swirl.flush...
You are clear.
{A few sprays and swipe downs later.}
Fresh.
Disinfected.
Sterile.
An alabaster white vessel.
Vacant.

I can't quite tell you why the toilet has been on my mind today. Perhaps it is because I live with 3 boys. Yes, let's blame it on that. Constantly preaching for a steady aim and clean no-drip finish, I do. Results don't always end up that way though.

And isn't that life?

There are so many facets of my life that I strive for that steady aim and clean no-drip finish. But alas, the stench lingers. Potent and pungent is the aroma of my shortcomings and mistakes.


How I long for a life as crisply breathtaking and inspiring as what you see here.

Manicured.
Perfection
Vivid colors saturated and complimentary.
Yet, no.

And why is it that we all seem to think that life, in fact, should be that way? And that if and when it is not, we are the ones loosing it, cooky, or just not up to par.

Progress.
Change.
Dedication.
Desire.
Pattern sculpting.
The heart of the matter.

That's what life is really about. And least I am leaning towards this mental mantra right now.
I am adamant that my toilets will not reek of urine. No sir. Not in THIS house.

But, I go at it all wrong. And this just occurred to me today. You see, I stock up on cleaning supplies with all the best advertisements and guarantees. Then multiple times a week I spray all 3 toilets from top to bottom with these magic chemicals.

And then...
I let them soak in.
I do.

The spray turns into sticky residue and then a cloudy dried film on my johns.
Why?
Because my intentions aren't matched with my actions.
I over plan and under-achieve.
And before you know it, I have waisted countless 1/2 bottles of disinfectant and still have only dirty potties.

Does that sound like life to you?
I'm gonna attempt to stop that right here and right now.
I am plunging.
Can you see me?
My plungers:
  1. This book and this book. I will read and take notes. I will let the words soften my heart and speak to my spirit.
  2. This book. I will make changes to brighten and bring order to the world where I create.
  3. I will run. With music loud and air drums jamming.
  4. I will fill my belly with goodness for me.
  5. I will rest.
  6. I will listen to Kenny's dreams and wish for them to come true.
  7. I will drink more water, damnit.
  8. I will wipe down my toilets everyday.
  9. I will paint my fingernails more. It's something I like to do.
  10. I will call my favorite peeps more. I need to hear their voices and just maybe they need to hear mine.
  11. I will romance my husband more.
  12. I will write on just exactly what my heart needs to say.
  13. And most of all, I will pray and thank God more.

Yes, I will strive to live for the transitions and gain from their place in my life instead of aiming for the perfection of a bathroom that doesn't exist.

Because there is no such thing as a clean no-drip finish.

.mac :)

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Loopty-Loo

You have a presence about you. You do. A catchy charisma bred into you like a long line of Kentucky Derby Champions has their strong, swift legs. When I was little I was enthralled with each and every visit you paid us. I would study your thick reddish orange hair taking special note of any subtle changes that might have occurred since our last encounter. I can still remember exactly the way your shampoo smells. With a head full of cowlicks, my green & golden sunburst eyes studied you. I noticed not whether your hair was fixed or fresh washed out-of-the-shower dried. Your hair, to me, was just another expression of your overwhelming personality. Flowing full or dripping doused; it moved with flair.

The details of life have been a constant for me. Details in my memory. Feelings completely hitched to these observances of mine; I do not forget. And these feelings? These feelings were ones of "I want to be like that" and "She is so cool".

Your necklaces were always tiny and delicate and short. Usually a 14" chain length I would guess. An intricate patterned design I remember. Yellow gold never silver. And just like peanut butter and jelly, your necklaces were paired with a dainty charm dangling. A sand dollar I can recollect. But my favorite was the bear. The little golden bear. 4 paws out and little eyes. I think even the belly was a bit convex so to give a 3D effectiveness to it. Parts were shiny polished and parts were matte finished. I see this necklace on you now. The way that sweet chain would catch and lie just a bit lopsided on your smooth faintly freckled neckline would allow this golden bear a loopty-loo this way and then that for a bit.

And your fingers. Like Lady Slippers in the most manicured of gardens. The way your hands ebbed and flowed as you spoke was melodious and sweet to my little child mind. Fingers so long and tapered. Your nail beds would edge out at the last possible second before the tips of your finger pads leaving your nail length a mystical illusion of long and sometimes longer.

Revlon Red.
Sandstone Sable.

Complete oxymoron's of one another. These were your rotating hues. I loved this. My innocence as a child could hardly handle the anticipation of which was in lead rotation before your arrival. And like the juxtaposition of sandy brown soft and a loud pop of red, so is your personality. Calm and gentle your hazelnut brown eyes would share with me sweet reports of my cousins afar and then quick witted and tempered, at times, your stories would be grandiose and full of vigor. A storyteller you are.

Revlon Red and Sandstone Sable.

Legs. Legs for days. Picking you up from the airport I can remember your pumps. You were a fan of slingbacks. I walked behind you on the way to luggage claims taking note of the graceful flex of your perfectly shaped calves with heels bare. Tapered, like your fingers, from slender ankles to muscles full. You are a hard worker. You deserve legs of this design. For in a time when women in the corporate world were only found behind a desk taking memos and answering phone calls, you and your legs pushed past this mark. A single working mother of 3, you carved out your success. Exceeding limitations and slowly making your presence known. Yes, legs like this you deserve.

Conversations with you were full and at times so empty. Full of laughter and juicy details like your hairdresser "Jobear" and tales of your cocktail parties and wardrobe selections. You never neglected to be specific when it came to colors of the choice of heels to match suits. Each adjective you used be it "peacock green" or "brazen yellow", I remember them all. When conversations to turned a softer venue of "I love you" or "goodbye", your words became antsy and removed. Oftentimes skipped over just to find solace in an end.

I anticipated you. Your zest wooed me. I adored your femininity and knack for moving a room each time that you entered.

As years passed by and time moved its sneaky little way, you have been a backdrop prop to my life's painting. I can't help but find tiny snippets in me that were stellar WOWS of you. And that is by no accident.

I honor you as my own. A lady who has helped sculpt me into my now. Although you were not my everyday, you were my every heart. Your hand prints have manipulated and molded this feeling organ of mine in ways you will never know.

You and your "peacock greens" and Revlon Reds. Your slingbacks and hair with a life of its own. Your story telling fingers are the most delicate ballet on the stage of my mind. Your love of the water and the beach. Your caring nature and quick tempered soul.

And so, I love you too. As the details you have given me are the 3 little words I needed most. For life happens so much faster than one realizes. Faster still if you don't stay connected with the little things around you.

And you, Gramma, are so much more than a little thing.

Thank you for your strength, your pizzazz, your heart, and your style. It is on this Christmas Day that I give you this cross to remind you that God's glory and love is alive and so-very-present in your life then and your life now. He has woven together a grandmother and granddaughter through His wonderful design. And what is yours is now a little mine. And for that, I am so very grateful.

Yes, connected.

My snippets are but shadows in the beautiful woman you are, but woven in God's full beauty, we are the same. Sisters by His hand. So, I too, will have this same cross in my home to remind me of the pieces He has woven between us, His sacrifices for our salvation, and His intricate handiwork in making us grandmother and granddaughter.
Thank you so very much for the brushstrokes you have given my life. Like the little golden bear, my 4 paws loopty-loo around your heart.

Your granddaughter,
Meghan Alicia

Friday, December 18, 2009

Making a List

You see these toes?

These are OPI's Cajun Shrimp toes.
My all-time favorite nail polish color.
Just look at them. All flirty-flirt with the waves as they cascade ashore.
I bet those toes even bounce up and down as the white caps crash at their tips.
{Splashin and makin a regular rowdy saltwater ruckus.}

And those thighs just above the knee?
Sportin' the opaque sand skirt.

Who me?
Do you think that's just what I've been up to lately?
Forgetting all about this ole blog?
Neglecting to even keep up with my suber-fab favorite blogs that I LOVE reading.
Leaving this space naked of any December posts.
Almost all of November too for that matter.

Do you think I just threw another notch back in my sand covered chase lounger and twirled the tropical toned umbrella in my fruity concoction when I received almost 50 emails concerning my whereabouts in blog land?

Do you think I just looked the other way in my Jackie.O. shades as my very own mother-in-law interrupted me in mid-sentence when discussing my business with her to say, "Do you know the last time you posted on your blog was November 4th. November 4th to be exact."

NO.

No to all of the above.

The truth.

You want the truth do you? Hmm. Okay, I'll give you the truth.

  1. My toes (I have 10) only have polish on 3 of them as pointed out by my 2 year old to me yesterday. He then went on to express that they were also "Really, really long, mama."
  2. In the last month, I have fallen asleep at night not once but 3 times IN MY CLOTHES. 2 of those times my shoes were even on. Each time I woke around 3 or 4 in the morning to discover that I had been asleep!
  3. My home is a Christmas winter wonderland. Really it is. Complete with the newest addition of wreaths on the outside of every window. (Wreaths I paid a whopping 20 cents each for including the bow at last year's after Christmas sale) Yet my back porch is still all decked out with my fall lights of orange and yellow. Yep, it's true. I shutter that I just admitted this. Truth hurts.
  4. Since my last post (11.04.09. Thanks for the reminder, Carlene) I have mopped my kitchen floor once.
  5. I had all of my Christmas shopping done by December 1st, but have wrapped nothing.
  6. I have left the house not once but 4 times WITHOUT curling my eyelashes. (Angie and Stella Blue, you girls know what curling my eyelashes does to my moral and overall beauty mantra. Yeah, 4.)
  7. The dish washing liquid container in my dishwasher is broken and will not stay closed. As a result of this faulty device, my dishes come out cloudy once washed. And what do I do? Just squirt more liquid in this faulty device and re-wash the dishes. {Like do I really think they are going to turn out crystal clear a 2nd, 3rd, or 4th time? Really, Meg.}
  8. In my downstairs closet, I house an arsenal of my craft supplies, homeschool gear, and some of the boys' larger toys. Over the course of just 2 weeks, I have managed to topple almost every basket over in several mad dashes to grab something. What did I do? Grumble ugly things under my breath each time and just shut the door. Kenny was in for a real treat the other night when he opened this closet door to get the cat food out. Marriage really is for better or worse.
  9. I have had my Christmas cards printed out and ready for mailing since December 5th. I mailed them just 2 days ago.
  10. I have eaten 2 bags of Hostess Sweet Sixteen Chocolate Donuts that I bought for my boys and Kenny for a breakfast treat on the weekends. These would be the big 13 oz. bags. Just hoarded them away so that no Cobble man or boy could even see that we had them in stock.
  11. I have had a wonderful response this year to my Sunshine for the Soul Home Goods Line. I have gone through over a 100 pounds of soy wax making candles this Christmas season. 100 pounds of wax and I make each candle in quantities of 4 at a time. That there, my friend, equals a lot of wonderful donations to The Susan G. Komen Foundation and The Special Olympics.
  12. My fingernails do not have dirt under them when you see me in person. That would be paint. Paint from handmade sign orders.
  13. I have gone through 25 needles on my sewing machine. I change needles every 2 designs made. I think my boys think that Christmas music is just supposed to have the humming of a sewing machine in the background.
  14. I made 15 appliqued Christmas t-shirts with names embroidered and doused in ribbon trim in one week. {mollyemade} is gonna be so much fun!
  15. I have enjoyed every minute of un-made bed impromptu snuggling and book reading with my boys. They are growing way too fast.
  16. I ordered $350 worth of fabric for spring bags! Not to mention 12 new embroidery fonts too! And, there are 4 new bag designs in my trusty Steno pad as we speak.
  17. I have piddled around with a new blog header design, added an extra column, and figured out how to increase the size of my posting photos too.
  18. I have 2 bags left to finish and send out tomorrow and my Santa workshop is closed for the next 12 days.
  19. I am overjoyed to be back in posting action! Thank you to all of you checking in on me. It was so kind of each of you. Yes, even you, M-I-L Carlene.
  20. I CANNOT wait to kick back with my feet up and catch up on all of you from the past month and a half. And I will. Just you wait and see!

I got my eye on you. Well, maybe not from here, but a girl can dream can't she?

7 more days...

.mac :)

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