Unvarnished Conversation

I'm pretty sure most people do not wake up humming The Godfather theme music, yet today it was I. Either I dreamed of Michael, the early years, or I was going to have a "sleep with the fish" kind of day. Never a dull moment being me! So I proceeded with my day of lists, and picking off things that I did not feel urgent in my book. I started two loads of laundry, that will remain there awhile, and walked the dog. Had unvarnished conversation with myself, and explained to the worker men, that I was not talking to them!

It was too hard to explain that talking to myself is normal, so I said I had some form of Tourettes. Of course these nice men do not speak English, so I hope that in their native language Tourettes does not mean," Yes I will show you my breasts!!!" They are still painting, but now I think the young one is looking at me strangely??

Anyhow the day marches on, so I decide to deposit my first retirement check. I think I may be the only person that goes to the bank anymore, and I like to go to the real tellers. My children roll their eyes, when I ask if they would like to go with me, which fascinates me. Why don't they think this may be an adventure? Well, they are grown and not home, but I remember those eye rolling days, and what all they missed!! So I load up Lucy, the lab, and head to the bank. I have my deposit slip and check ready to go. Friendly hellos are exchanged, and my teller comes on the microphone and says, " Mrs. Baron you need to redo the deposit slip, you cannot write in pencil." I laugh out loud, and reply, " Honey that is not pencil, that is dove gray fine point sharpie!" She keeps looking at it, and asks, "Are you trying to trick me?" Hmmmm, "No, as I hold up my pen.........Fifty Shades, I smile." She looks confused, (I thought all women had read the books, clearly she is not one of them) " Do you want fifties?" continues the lady behind the glass. Now I'm about to wet my pants, and I scream, " You have no idea lady, but tens and twenties will be fine!"

I return to home, still humming Godfather music, and ask Lucy if she had a good time. She barks, happy and rolls in the grass, eats her snack and naps with no cares in the world. I look at her closely while she is sleeping because I see a faint smile, and I think she is having my Al Pachino dream!!!! No one ever said Life was fair, but unvarnished it is!!!!

A Gentle Nudge....

  It is a glorious fall day in Atlanta Georgia, still packing some heat. Temps are hovering in the high 80's, and the painters remain a constant!
 When Bob Newhart, aka my hubby, speaks, "Bonnie, it has been ten days since you have blogged, what is wrong?"
" Painters being at my house for months on end, cause chaos in my brain!" I yelled in a ladylike fashion!
" I have many blogs in my head, but they are stuck. September has me under her thumb! flattened! ugh!"

So here I am, after I moved all the clothes off the table, that need to go upstairs! " How am I suppose to be creative and write, in a mess?" Guess that is what I get for writing in the kitchen, oh well , let me put pen to paper!!!

I have been diagnosed with ADD for many years, I think most people have it. For years I took medication, until I figured out that the meds helped my scatted brain, but took away my Bonnie-ness, so I just told my family and the world to enjoy my ADD, its who I am.
That is where my sense of humor comes from, and without that, no dice.
Last week was a perfect example of crazy fun in my brain.
While getting dressed for the day, I decided I was going to wear high heels like my Aunt Daisy. This thought just popped into my brain, while the lipstick was effortlessly applied. The stories of Aunt Daisy frying chicken in hooker heels for the people staying at her home. It was common years ago, that families opened their homes like a boarding house, to make extra money. Aunt Daisy was one of these angels. Living in Elba Alabama, in Satan's humidity, frying chicken in pumps. She did not waiver, whatever she was wearing, those heels were on her feet, even on her second job. Yes, after feeding the multitude, she worked in retail all damn day long, only to walk home at lunch, not a sandwich, a big mother cooter lunch!! Then when her feet were past going,  she would start dinner, remember there was no air conditioner!!!  Food from scratch, and her laughing like a school girl, happy as a meadow lark, in her high heels. My other aunties would tell stories of her clacking on the linoleum, cooking like a crazy lady. People adored her, and I knew her only from the endless stories. This one morning, I was going to wear heels outside in the yard, cooking supper, going shopping, sitting in a chair reading, I was going to prance like my Aunt Daisy, surely she must have known the shoes had secret powers, and I was not even cutting up a chicken!!! So I put on some beige six inch heels, and tried to walk down the stairs, holding on for dear life. They did sound good on the hardwood floors, should I talk to the painters in shorts, a tee shirt and my pumps? Absolutely, walk the dog?? Lord have mercy, make a cake? I already had to crank down the AC, and my calf muscles were beginning to scream, so I took them off and looked at the jewels, through out the day. I think they were on my feet less then an hour, but that hour was Awesome!!! How did she do it, my Aunt Daisy? I salute her style, and strength in hard times. I also wish I had a piece of her fried chicken, right now. I would even put on my big girl shoes to eat it, in her memory!!
Now let me go remind my partner for thirty two years, that I will do better and write each day, so as to entertain him!!!!

AMEN

I take the term, "Pray without ceasing" to heart.

So when it comes to nighttime prayers, they are short! " Thank you God for my bed, and electricity."

However, this week, there was one evening that required a "Thank you Jesus, my sheets smelled like Gator-Bone lake!" The lake of my childhood, so I pulled the sheets up to my chin, and sniffed away. Well they did not smell like the lake! they smelled like the sheets on the beds at the lake!!! with a dash of Noxzema!

Of course Bill said, " What are you doing?" and I preceded to tell him about the sheet smell. It was a beautiful thing, to instantly be returned to a time and place, of laughter, sunshine, cousins and clean, probably cheap! sheets. There were many bunk beds, housing all of us. There were no blankets, just you and the sheet, carefully spread across sunburned bodies of very tired children. There was no TV, no video games, only the rule to play outside until the adults call you.

The lake held us all day, and tucked us in at night.

And some forty years later, my sheets, took me back.

So on this one special night, before I closed my eyes, my prayer was, "Thank you God for my bed, and electricity and most of all for my Kate Spade expensive sheets, that smell like the lake!"(Do you think it has something to do with the thread count??)

Amen

Not On My Dime

 Seldom do I run errands to the post office. I, like others, order things on-line, and use e-mail way tooooo much! However I love the post office, beautiful stamps, weighing my little parcels, people watching, yes it is a fascinating place. I prefer them to have an old wooden floor, and a similar smell of the library, but that has long gone. So a few days ago( it could have been a month, I'm on retirement time, and that means no clocks, or calendars!) ( I love to clarify, when it doesn't matter!) continuing on, I had two big envelopes to mail to my grandchildren. Back to school treats were headed their way, and a chance to buy the newest stamp, a fun mini trip I had planned. OF COURSE, there has to be a kink in my chain.

I arrive with a skip in my step, mail in hand, looking at the stamps through the glass shadow box, when I heard an elderly (probably 50!!!) man ask for the manager, boss of the mail room. Damn it, not on my dime, are we going to have a bad confrontation, especially when I am next in line!!! I refuse to let somebody that is having a bad day take us all out!!! So I start looking to see if he has a gun, nothing. He seems to be leaning into this postman's space, and talking in a whisper, LORD!!! I begin to look in my purse for a weapon, I had a metal fingernail file, that would have to do. At that time, two other post-people come out from the back, and I hear the man say something to the effect that his mailbox lid is never shut properly. For the love of Jesus, people have way too much time on their hands, how bad could this be?? So he was ranting and one post-person said maybe he could put a magnet on the lid, when they opened another lane, NEXT, which was me. How am I suppose to look at stamps, and pick the perfect ones, with this Cra-Cra man still going on, and my post-person was acting a little snippy!!! I leaned over, and loud enough!! said, " Looks like you all may be having a bad day, but I wasn't until I walked in here, and I'm holding a finger nail file, so be nice!" He handed me my Finding Nemo stamps, and some with trees on them, plus mailed my gifts.

Yes the man was still in conversation about how to open and close a mailbox, and my nails were filed to perfection!!!