Bottle This UP

     Gloomy weather outside, the color of rain and dampness.
      I just changed shirts in the laundry room, had on short sleeves, and grabbed a clean long sleeve tee out of the dryer!! There is a chill in the air.
     So I decided to blog and get my mind onto something good. Emma and I are headed to see RENT this evening, one of my favorite plays. I love it....how many minutes in a day? I hear you singing, what a soundtrack of love. Maybe we could bottle up the feel of anticipation for seeing a good play, for wonderful music. Just the feeling of knowing the words to all the songs, is a gift!! Put this is a spray bottle of joy juice, this country needs it!!
     So I was thinking if I did have a magic pill, or could bottle up something for people to sip from, it would be picking our grandson Wyatt up from daycare.
      I like to tip-toe in, and call his name, softly. He now holds his hands up in the air, screaming, laughing, falls to the floor and crawls quickly to me. I thought, goodness, if everyone could feel this, at least once a day. Bottle up this innocent baby hug bug. We could cure so many ills of the world.
 Then he looks around for Grandpa, who stays in the doorway, and bellows again. We kiss his neck, and both wrap our arms around this precious boy and off we go. We try to get him once a week, and see him on the weekends. We are lucky, I sit in the back seat with baby boo, and talk about his day, until the we arrive home. Then Mr. Wyatt is on the look out for Lucy, our lab!! then his toys. We have a little routine of playtime, a couple of hours of ALL WYATT!! It is a romp of amusement, he is on the move now, and that is a game changer. I laugh so hard at him, and then he laughs at me. He is spoiled, as it should be, you never get a chance at this age ever again. This curious ball of activity is growing so fast. I just want for all people to feel this, take a whiff of this magic.
    A baby laying their head on your shoulder, knowing its safe place and feels familiar,  bottle that up!!! A baby smell, and sounds, close your eyes, it moves thought each cell of my being. It is like warm sunshine, a puppy's wiggle, fresh orange juice, close your eyes, we forget what this is like.
   We need to remember.
    Even when Wyatt cries, I pretend to cry with him, he then stops and he laughs!! We can change each other, by caring. You don't have to be a child to see this, or have a G-kiddo, to feel it. We have to do it, we have to be the change.
   Another thing this week, that touched me, and always does, are birds singing. Where have they been all winter? ( In cold hell with me!) I can listen to them for hours, the new babies, and anxious parents and the loud geese, crows and blue jays!!! Oh my goodness, you don't even need to bottle it up, open the windows, for pity's sake. You have a symphony in the spring, and too often, you don't hear it.
   So I leave you with several feelings, that you can embrace, share, experience. The world can be so ugly, and all its inhabitants, you can make a difference. Write your own story, change the world.
    And if my Wyatt were here, he would tell you the same thing, and maybe wave to you backwards!! Throw away the bottles, this stuff is all around you!! Go get it!

May It Last

   Often, I enjoy my blog titles more than the blog. Or at least the process, of not knowing where I shall be going with this. Just the phrase, May It Last, could mean so many things to people.
    The entire title began as, May It Last: A Portrait of the Avett Brothers-HBO documentary.
I wanted you to see this program, if you had an hour or so.
Maybe I just wanted to share my joy, and in its contagiousness you would take a look-see.
    I love folk music, I love old country music, southern boys at their best, is probably how or why, I tuned into this program. I think I may have heard of them, these Avett Boys, but could not put my finger on them, so I had to research.
   One, they are out of North Carolina, raised in the south, usually is a good sign, or not!!
   I went in blind, and had a ball. They do not have the greatest of voices, so I had to give them a few minutes not to annoy me. They never became that perfect pitch, they just were. There was the magic, original writing, singing, and certain transforming me into another space. Wikipedia describes them, a little Buddy Holly, tuneful jangle of( love that) of the Beatles, raw energy of The Ramones. Very different kind of duo, group of musicians. I did not read the all the things written about them, I think they have been around a long time, and I may be a day late to the game, but I made it.
    Very interesting, pure lyrics, and music, and love, they just want it all to last, hence my title.
I guess we all do, at least the good parts.
    I have a friend whose child is in the last stages of horrible cancer, and I know in their hearts, every cell in their bodies, want this child's life to last. Yet they so want all the pain, to go away. It weighs heavy on my heart. Another friend has lung cancer, what a despicable disease, may it not last. I can do nothing but send love, and I believe love is powerful. The journey we do not ever understand, but  love has to comfort all of these journeys. Pain and agony is not in any of our plans.
   Also in the past couple of weeks, I had to talk to Satan, oh yes he is all around!! I told him, " I know you, the devil that you are!!" You see I have enjoyed about two weeks in the 60's and 70's , gray as it is, the air is warm. I want to work in the yard, wear summer clothes, think I have made it through winter, BUT I know Satan, he likes to test my sanity!! He tricks me, and I have his number!!! Every year, just when I relax, a freak winter storm will come blow my house down!!! or make me crumble!!
  I started to clean the back deck off, maybe even sit outside for a few minutes, and I felt a chill!! Damn you Satan, get the hell out of Georgia, I need sunshine and some miracles!!
     May It Last, this semi warm weather, chances are slim, but I am going to enjoy each second. May all the good stuff last, for all of you. If indeed it doesn't somehow learn to navigate the bad, believe in your strength, keep a diary, learn and love.
     OH and my two new courses with the hubs are going good, World literature is hard, and I love it. The History of Cathedrals, not so much fun, professor kind of flat, but I like history of the buildings. They tell a story, every inch of each cathedral,fascinating information. Even about how the light shines through each stain glass window, it all tells a story.
      May It Last, all of our stories.
 

Bring A Broom Instead Of A Bible

     Having just returned from Jacksonville, visiting the Fam! My father, Homer, so kindly, gave me this blog title.
         There is a photo of The Blackman family at church, and I am holding a broom. Daddy then proceeded to tell me, I bought a broom to church and not a bible!! My brother said, I may have rode in on it, but I was all of five!!

Brothers!!

        We lived at church, like so many in the south, and I always liked props, accessories, dolls, books! Sundays were long, and  there was not a children's room.You sat in the big church, with your parents or cousins, and later with friends. I remember grandmother putting her hand on my knee to keep me from swinging my legs. I made all kinds of things out of the money offering envelopes. The broom, I feel sure was under the pew, until I was allowed to sweep myself out of there!! I loved church, for about ten minutes, but I had to learn to be still, and sing loud. I still like to carry things to do with me at all times, I was and remain, a girl with a big purse, and maybe not a bible!! ( I collect Bibles, and have read the entire Bible several times) ( but that little girl in the photo, was going to sweep) 

     My trip home, was fun, Baby Wyatt, newest gran, met the great grandparents. 

     Took a tour with Uma, (thats me) around my home town, streets, bridges, old boyfriends houses.

Kenmore Street, 26th Street, 68 Street, High School, Elementary School, Main Street, Pearl Street. Wyatt was asleep in the back of the car, but he heard my vivid description of my youth. Susan lived there on Lucky Drive, Grandmothers big tree, I use to climb in that tree! There is my house, on Kenmore Street,  a house filled with love. Pop Pop use to work at a grocery store next to Doc Browns soda fountain place, when he was a boy!! The river runs through every cell in my body, and leads to the ocean. My history, I pass on, good, bad and now it looks so ugly. But my picture of the past, it all looks so beautiful. The Tutt's camellia  bushes, The Lowen's azalea bushes, its funny how I remember the flowers everywhere. Sounds, smells, the taste of a Polar Bear icecream cone, and a broom at church. 

     It is my story, and even if the city looks worn out, it will stay beautiful in my drive by commentary.

     I loved growing up in Jacksonville, and it will always hold a sweet spot in my heart. ( I just wish that, like in Riverside, someone would restore Northside) Maybe it was meant to remain, like something from the 1950's, but like my son said, " Mom, the homes look sturdy and have good bones!" Well, I think that is true, it just needs tons of money, and some love. Maybe I could just bring my broom, and sweep up the mess.OR I could have learned more in church, and pray for a miracle!!

     All I know for sure, is you cannot go home again, if it is not even there.

     In my mind, it will forever be Northside at its finest. 

The Sweet Smell Of Victory, or Victory Smells

       Saturday Afternoon, while watching Florida play Alabama in basketball, I had a wave come over me. Not like a wave of grief, that often washes over me, at the strangest times. This was a wave of odor!!
       I could smell the basketball game. The court, the players, the gym.
       I, of course, had to share my experience, with the hubs. I exclaimed, " I love the smell of Basketball games!" and proceeded with my thoughts, out loud. The HE in the room, just lets me ramble, and sort of smiles. He now knows how powerful my senses are, and they take me places.
       I continued, the sound of the crowd, the closeness of sitting practically on top of your neighbor, the hum of the basketball bouncing!! Its a very intimate setting, mixed with a lot of body odors, and strong wax smells of the court. ( the good Dr. asked me, if I got all of this from the TV set!!) ( why yes I did, my memories are strong, and triggered!! by God knows what, at anytime!!)
      This started me thinking about the Super Bowl, which is today, the Olympics coming up. They all smell, victory and defeat smell. It smells of hard work, sweat on top of sweat, dedication, pain, happiness, joy, they all smell!!!!
      Odors are etched in my nostril memory forever. Middle School children smell, bakeries should smell sweet, ( I can still smell the sugar cookies, we got going to the beach on Sundays, mixed with ocean and daddy, angst!) my perfume from Paris, fresh snow, the dirt after a rain storm, a baby's neck, funeral homes, an old book, your house you grew up in, Edward's old car, foods from around the world, war smells ( my dad told me that) so many things, bring back memories.
    Today it was high school basketball games, Juicy Fruit gum, youth in its glory, a night full of promise and disappointment, all this while watching a college football game.
    I sat for a long time, after the game was over, and I had written some notes. What a sweet, strong smelling memory, came to me, and I am thankful for it.
   Often we just have to be present, to receive gifts.
   How we are nourished, is important, good memories are so delightful. ( bad memories, I hope you have few, are for teaching us something, learn from them.) ( or block them out!! that you also have to do sometimes!) Your senses are underused, concentrate on each one of them, there is a smell of satisfaction with a little Jagger thrown in!!!
  Victory is yours, and it smells!! SWEET