Goodnight Sweet Prince

      I have been thinking long and hard about what to say about this wisp of a man. This Prince of music.
      This Purple reign of his. The master of privacy, and a tightrope walker between male and female, magic.
      Yes, that is what I know for sure, he is magic.
       Decades of music, that speaks to the masses.
       Lyrics, that I hope you look at again, tell stories like the poet that he is.
  
       Little Red Corvette is not about a car at all!
       Entertaining, fascinating, watching us watch him.

      His small frame of passion, preaching Jesus and Sex, and all the drama between.

      My heart is so heavy, and thankful we had him, and will continue to have him, for generations to come.
      Maybe the next group will have a Prince, I sure hope so.
      They come around , not so often.
      And they leave early, with us wanting more.

      He is Magic, and I will forever take a cup of that! Fill me up, you Purple giant.
      Enjoy the journey, taking with you so much love.
      

I Can See Clearly, At Least Out of One Eye.

        The cardiologist that I saw last week, for a surgery pre-op, told me that the reason I had cataracts so early ( I already liked him!) were probably due to working in Radiology and Cardiovascular lab for nearly ten years. All the radiation of my youth, had come back to cloud my vision. I explained to him, I would not change a thing, having loved all my early working years at a teaching hospital. AND I added, there were many interns and residence doctors in our halls of medicine.
       So on Tuesday I had my first operation to see clearly. A very simple operation, with a big outcome. I just had a very giant problem with the process of preparing. I could not wear any makeup for four days!! I had full makeup on in labor, how was this going to happen. I expressed my concerns, to which HE (eye doctor) did not have a clue to my problem. I asked if I could even wear lipstick, and again he looked at me funny. I have worn makeup since I was twelve. Its a part of my life, in a big way. My routine, is all about getting fixed up!! So on the day of surgery, I took a bath, washed my hair, and stood in the bathroom. NOW WHAT?? I could not even wear perfume or hairspray, no lotion, no jewelry, I may have started to shake.
   However I survived and asked the nurse in recovery room to go get my purse from my husband, ( another thing I like to have near) so I can at least put on some lipstick!! She poo-poo'd my request." It makes me feel better, and that should be part of your job, " I was thinking that, but the Michael Jackson juice was still flowing through me a tad, I surrendered  to the autopsy look of paleness and regret.
    The next day I had to go to the followup appointment, I had makeup on one side of my face, and a little blush on the paper tape holding the big hunker of an eye patch. My other eye doctor, SHE ( just saying) hollered and thought I was brilliant, and shinning! Even if it were not true, I felt so much better. Is that vain, or just being a girly girl. I don't care, I like to look nice, and it requires a hefty American Express bill.
   I still cannot wear eye makeup this week, because the other eye is coming up soon, and I don't want to mess up the doctors brilliant work, so I follow the rules.. Lucky for me I wear glasses, so it is not so clear, but I know. My eye lashes don't bat the same way!! I feel naked, never do I need to feel the freedom of no cosmetics.
   I can see clearly, out of one eye, that I may have a serious addiction problem. ( addiction of all kinds runs in my family) I now have several eye drops, and I wanted to put them in a cute bag, so I went upstairs to my many makeup bags, and began to empty one out. Forty tubes of lipstick rolled all over the sink counter, I laughed so hard, and then thought, this is serious. One, I was so excited to find all of this lipstick, I had forgot about this bag. Second, I rounded up the tubes so fast, you would have thought it was crack cocaine! Not everyone needs to know all of my secrets!! ( then why do you have a blog Bonnie? computer is talking to me)
   My tools of beauty may be on a long time out, but I know they are near.
   I can see Clearly, and sometimes that is an EYE OPENER!

Angst And A Green Bean

      Very few, if any, will understand the amazing title of this blog.

      It is not important for us to understand everything.
      You can imagine all kinds of meanings, you are free to think out loud.

      If you are like me, and have the best friends in the world, no explanation is needed.

      It was a moment in time, and the title just spoke volumes.

      I will let you know this about me, I am not a thin person. I have been curvy all my life.
      It is my glorious body, and I have never had just one green bean.

      Enough, its just a wonderful title, enjoy it!

      Now for a few Sunday thoughts, I love Bonnie Raitt.
      My hubs, Dr. B., thinks that it is warm outside and I am freezing. I agree that it is sunny, but my bones are cold! I need it to be 80 degrees in the morning. Surely by now, after so many years, he knows this.
      AND I need to clean the back porch from all the pollen, but I have been waiting for warm weather!!
      Today may be the day, may be?

     About my friends.....If I look back over the 8 years of this blog....I would be willing to bet that there are many times I have used the word friends. I love them.
     Last night we celebrated a big birthday of one of our own.
     We all have shared so much, heartache and happiness. Laughing all the way.
      All of my life, I have held tight to my friends, and they are people that I hope you know.
      Childhood friends, school friends, work friends, neighborhood friends, church friends, far away friends and up close friends. I have a village that has molded me, honored me, and cried with me. Jane, Susan,Allison, Maria, Natty, Laura, Gemma, Kathi, Karen, Lynne, Malia, BA, Kaye, Vicki, Harriett, Dianne, and that is just a sprinkling. I could not mention them all, and their significant others, sometimes they travel in twos, or a herd.  We are connected by "It" this cord that remains long and stretching for years, months or days with or without seeing each other.  We are a crew, of stories true and embellished. Photos, in the vault and some the world has seen. ( thank you P for Papi last night) What a wonderful feeling to know you have so many that you can call, to help and to say, " I Love You."
    So on this Sunday, I say " Happy Birthday Lenny Purwin" we love you to the moon and back, and maybe to Pluto!! A good time was had by all, and if I saw one more fork, I was going to scream!! So much food, it was fit for a king! You, my friend.
     David B, sorry we had to talk about "summer grooming" but you were sitting among the girls. Your wife, explained to us in French, something about Hay and A Gate, I think I will steal that for my next blog title!!!
    Sunday is a day of thanks, and M,T,W, Th,F and Saturday too!!
    I count myself blessed, No Angst and a Green Bean for this gal.

Whatever Lola Wants.....

     This time, last weekend, I was anticipating the musical Kinky Boots! 

     Whatever the day is in this windy April morn, I still have the urge to put on a pair of thigh high red boots and sing.
      It matters not, day, time, or style of music, I will be singing.

     Recently there was a thread on Facebook about what twelve albums you would always travel with, and it stirred up my angina. 
     Well let me think about this? I took a stroll to my album pile, and looked through a few, that have been with me, for forty or fifty years. Would these be on my list? I guess so, I still have them, and my Hart has a few. ( I think he has my original Beatles first album, and maybe a few more.)
     
    It is always hard to decide what to carry with you. 
    So here is a list and trust me, I could go on and on....

     Eat A Peach by Almond Brothers, gosh even typing this brings back so many memories, and I smell pot!
     Abby Road by The Beatles, I think of Susan and Paula
     Crosby, Stills, Nash 1969 sitting on that couch cover, I still love all these songs( huge crush on Graham Nash)
     Tea For The Tillerman by Cat Stevens, just the first notes of these songs, I have to grab my chest.( I also have his music as a Muslim Man, he is anointed with a gift, I think he is now called Yusuf and I love him)
     Sweet Baby James by James Taylor, cried so hard when I saw him in concert, thought Jesus was going to take me up, right then!! I think that is how angels must sound!
    Captain Fantastic by Elton John, a great album, and Reginald is my Captain!
    Piano Man, by Billy Joel, I saw him on stage at JU, ( Jacksonville University) I swear, I feel like it was the gym, he was a baby and so was I. I looked at my friend and said, " Remember this night, it is historic!!"
   Experience by Jimi Hendrix, oh my goodness, he burned up a guitar, how lucky we were to have him for such a short period of time.
  
  I cannot choose, what about all my Motown?
    Little Anthony and The Imperials
    The Supremes
    Smokey Robinson, I wanted to marry!
    Temptations
     
     Another time...
     Leslie Gore
     Ricky Nelson
     Bobby Darrin
     Connie Frances
     Bobby Vinton

  Mom and Dad's music
     RoseMary Clooney
     Patti Page
     Perry Como
     Dean Martin
     Andy Williams

Folk Music, Gospel Music, New Music
    The original cast albums of Hair and Jesus Christ Superstar are in my album pile, I guess they stated my love of musicals, who knows?
    Jackson Brown, Janis Joplin, Joni Mitchell, Paul Simon, Barbra and Bette,.
    Country music has always been in my wheel house, from Little Jimmy Dickens, The Carter Family, and Loretta to Carrie and Keith Urban.
    Pop music, Boy bands, Prince!!

I cannot choose what to take, I choose all. 
I choose to sing Christmas carols twelve months of the year, and woke up this morning to children's songs, that Mrs.Nail taught me.
   Music heals me, breaks my heart, sets my feet to tapping and often shakes my booty! I have no shame, I will sing and dance at the drop of a hat, or the turn of the record.
   Whatever Lola wants, I am with her?him? oh heck, who cares, just put on the red boots and belt it out!!
  
    




     

Who Controls The Narrative?

    I enjoy sitting down at the typewriter, or as we may call it, our personal computer!
    Especially when I have so much to say, and truly very little.
      In the morning hours, I was scanning my notes, random and reckless, to piece together a blog. ( I love this choppy sentence!! It amuses me!!)
    I firmly believe in jotting down thoughts.
    My family would tell you first hand, if paper and pen are not near me, there could be a problem.
    Who controls the narrative? In my story, Me!
    More importantly what I choose to share, is in my limited control. The universe has hold of the reins, and God, if you believe. ( She and I are still in talks, after you lose a child, your questions are bigger) ( Yes I believe that God has to be female, a man could never multi task that well)
 
     So today, I found this saying, Who Controls The Narrative, and I think Pat Conroy said it in one of his books. It was written right next to, Cage Fighting vs Global Warming and the vets phone number, and of course Pat Conroy's name is in the corner of that page. Also in big letters, Love, Loves, Loving, Loved, wonder what that is about???

   So many things, we as a people, need to write down and think about. I have lists on top of lists, of books to download, Movies to watch, tickets to order, doctors and dentists appointments, that should be transferred onto the calendar! My notebooks are a treasure trove of my narrative.

   This week, our Patti Duke died, our Valley of the Dolls girl, minus her headband. Memories flood the gates, when our past is truly passed.
    I had a visit for a physical, to have cataracts removed, and the Doctor said I need to see a cardiologist!
   " Well, of course I do, seeing all these doctors has caused my EKG to look wonky!" I huffed.
   Nothing to worry about, yet, so lets leave that part out!! My narrative.
One of our cats, Diana has diabetes, and corralling her to the vet, ( another reason for EKG abnormal report) is life altering!! This week has been all about her, two shots into her, and I will need to sell a kidney to pay for this animal, AND that would be another doctor!!!

   I just realized its only Wednesday, my life is large, hectic and full of laughter.
   I sit here, with a mask on in my house, because the pollen count is so high and I love having the doors and windows open!! The weather is beautiful, I want to feel it, even with a coat of yellow! ( God bless my cleaning people, who have been with me for almost twenty years!) It takes a village!

  There were two other things that recently spoke to me, maybe three.
           1. My parents still make me laugh, its nice
           2. Patti Duke died from the same thing my father had in October, Sepsis from a rip in your intestines. He survived, and he thinks it is pretty neat to now be associated with a Hollywood person! via a medical problem. ( my family! makes me laugh)
           3. I received an invitation to a rehearsal dinner and it was addressed with our names in lower case letters!! I was so happy, it looked beautiful and we don't always have to use upper case letters!!
( I cut our names out and put it on the fridge, seriously beautiful!)
           OK maybe four things......
          4. Humans of New York had wonderful Easter Parade pictures last week. One made me loudly laugh, about "Just Go With Howard" go online and look it up. I think I saw it on Facebook. I am going to steal that line and use it in my life. It is just perfect, " Just Go With Howard!" has so many meanings.

      And to think, I did not even think I had enough to write about.
      You control your narrative, its liberating! Make it special!!
       Thank you for trying to follow this hodge podge of delight.
 **The above picture is from the story of Just Go With Howard, the story did not print. So look it up! Humans of New York Easter Parade Stories, I found it!! It takes some time, but then you get to see so much more!!

For Goodness Sake

   The above title of this blog, is a saying I heard in my youth. It has nothing to do with the blog to come! I just like it. I was fortunate enough to hear Justin Bieber say these precious words in a song this week. ( Yes I like his music, and I am really a 16 year old girl inside this bod) Give his new CD a twirl, its awesome, for goodness sake!

       Now, that I have explained so little, I will continue.

    I graduated from PT school this week, after five weeks, twice a week, hours of agony.
    My little girl therapist, said, " Bonnie, can you come back and visit us, we are like family!" To which I smiled and said, " We are not like family, we are still in like with each other and I will return shortly due to my bird bones, love you, good-bye." She was very sweet and a beast, sort of like Namaste and I may cut you!!
   Now onto my cataract surgery, in April and May. I feel like I may be on the hamster wheel of body repairs in my 63rd year on this planet. My motto, is to keep moving forward, and practice the art of finding happiness in all situations, try is the key word here. Pain and doctors appointments have a tendency to make me cranky, lucky for me, I am always a work in progress.

  I found this poem, this week, and it spoke to me. I think it will touch you also, and if it doesn't that's OK too. I can not find your happiness also!!
       Lord, my burdens are huge, it takes work, you are on your own. I just think this may jump your joy meter.
                      Dazzle of Day
                      by Pablo Neruda

                      Enough now of the wet eyes of winter.
                      Not one single tear.
                      Hour by hour, green is beginning,
                      the essential season, leaf by leaf,
                      until, by spring's name, we are summoned
                      to take part in its joy.

                      How wonderful, its eternal openness,
                      clean air, the promise of flower,
                      the full moon leaving
                      its calling card in the foliage,
                      men and women trailing from the beach
                      with a wet basket of shifting silver.

                      Like love, like a medal,
                      I welcome it,
                      I take it all in,
                      from south, from north, from violins,
                      from dogs,
                      lemons, clay,
                      from newly liberated air,
                      machines smelling of mystery,
                      storm-colored shopping,
                      everything I need:
                      orange blossoms, string,
                      grapes like topazes,
                      the whiff of waves.
                      I gather it up
                      endlessly,
                      effortlessly,
                      I breathe.

                      I dry my shirt in the wind,
                      and my opened heart.
                      The sky falls
                      and falls.
                      From my glass,
                      I drink
                      pure joy.

    Saturday, the bug man may have just sprayed my feet, finds me semi-well and happy.
    For goodness sake.


                      
                     

  

The Beads Are Tight

   

   Today finds me a little unstrung.
       My beads(Mala) are wrapped tight around my wrist, and will be used repeatedly through this day.
       Much like Rosary Beads used for prayer, these are used by Buddhists, and anyone who wants to use them. They help me pray all day. There is no Jesus hanging from them, or rote prayer, just many beads for all prayer requests! My list is huge!!
       This weekend, I have been weepy, and that is not my usual self.
       Beautiful weather makes me so thankful, and I wish my Ward could see it, then I think he does.
       Pat Conroy died, and my heart just sank, so grateful and yet a tad angry he had to leave.
       Saw the play, Sound of Music, and it was so touching, all the familiar songs and fantastic stage design.( Yes I may have mouthed the words to every song, and yes I missed Christopher Plummer!) My eyes were full, and my heart on my sleeve.
      Bill and I drove home, the same route we always take, going by Ward's college SCAD, and we remembered all the dorm moving, and art projects and love. We wished that he had more time with us, to figure out things and discover his his worth. He was so creative, and loved college. Bill reminded me that Ward never missed a day of classes in college, I smiled. The tears gently fell.
   
     I blame the South!! We are a very different breed. You can love us or hate us, but you pine to be near us. We love with a fault, and carry hate around like it is your best friend. We sit our crazy on the front porch, with a glass of tea, and show it off! We have a story to tell, and hopefully you get a chance to hear it.
 
    Southern writers, sip from the fountain of humidity, and fill my soul.
   Pat Conroy's death, reminded me of how much I love the south, and loathe it, at the same time.
   AND my weepy weekend began with missing him, and turning pages.
        For me, the South was carry on baggage I could not shed no matter how many borders you crossed-PC
         The South's got a lot wrong with it, but its permanent press and it doesn't wash out-PC
         The camellias were always in bloom, it was the South that existed without sting or thorns, or heartache-PC
          Every conversation with him had the possibility of turning wrong in an instant-PC
         " English Leather," I said. " The smell of pain." -PC ( my grandfather wore English Leather, no more needs to be said-BB)
          Columns are often the metaphorical bars of the Southern prison from which there is no parole or escape-PC

These are snippets from ,Beach Music. My favorite book of Pat's is Prince of Tides. I think I will download to my kindle all of his books, and have a love fest.
       To be from the deep South is exhausting, overstimulating and maddening. It is also fills up a room, the entire room, with the best.
       I want to fix the south, and not destroy it, I think it can be done. I will not be flying a Confederate flag, but it can certainly hang in a museum to remind us of how not to be. We cannot forget the past, but we can change the future. Oh how the moss hangs, and reminds us of the sorrow and pain, that which has built our character of hope and kindness.
       Read some Southern writers, they will tell you of our faults and our promises. They will let you weep for awhile and cause you to pick yourself up, and continue to cherish our roots.

       ( Did I tell you that it was the end of Downton Abbey also, I was a hot mess by nightfall!)
  I will clutch my beads, and end this little epistle, and carry my southern self out into this great big world.
      Its a beautiful day, even when you weep.