All Good Thongs Must Come To An End

Thank you R.M. for the above blog title, its a good one!

This is either a blog about flip-flops or my son's upcoming nuptials, you decide.

Maybe I can marry the two ideas?

  Soon my baby boy, is going to be married. In New Orleans, in June! ( pause and gasp, thinking about the humidity!) ( I know)
 My DIL to be Nicole, asked me what kind of shoes I will be wearing for the outdoor, June, hoopla? I told her flip-flops, and was serious. I bought some silver ones, so don't judge me yet! She responded with a " To the WEDDING?"
 "It is in a park, my dress is long, no one will see my feet, I do not want to fall! and it is June in New Orleans!" oh sweet almost bride to my favorite child.
" I thought you were wearing the teal little slid on heels?" Nicole continuing the confab!
" Oh, I forgot about those, OK, I will put them on for the pictures, and carry my flip-flops.", said I, the adoring MIL. ( Now I have to find a bigger purse to carry my gear!)

 Compromise, is a new thing for both of us, but its working. ( I will take a picture of my cute shoes, both pair!) ( soon to come)

Some people call them thongs, I think I have always called them flip-flops, and my panic button is rearing up to anticipate winter waiting for me! and Its just going to be June! How long do I have to be free of foot claustrophobia, socks, boots........I want year round foot freedom......Key West is calling me.....maybe no shoes is the answer.....So I will wear my flops at the wedding and rehearsal dinner and to the pool for as long as I have. Yes I have some black cute slid on sandals for the rehearsal dinner, flops will be in my bag! that someone will be carrying! ( thank goodness for my brothers and having all these boys! and Bill!!!) ( trying to let Bill enjoy the wedding, as much as possible!) ( BUT wife and momma come first, all my girls learn this lesson early on!)
  As for my thirty year old baby boy, whom I nursed until you told me, THEY were empty! Love your wife, like dad has loved me. Be sweet most of the time, and if you feel mean, go run or clean up the garage. Help your wife, clean and cook, it takes a village ! not one person. You have been the best baby , toddler, teenager, grown-up human ever, keep it going. Being married is work, period. Have fun and laugh everyday, hard! Laugh Hard! Listen to all kinds of music, and fill your house with love. Plus do some service projects for others, its good to take all direction of of yourself and help others, I think that is why we are here. Love the God that makes you happy, whomever that is. If you vote Republican ever, which I know you wont, but if that happens, lets talk! The apron strings are now cut, but there are threads that will always be wrapped around my heart. Nicole, he chose you, that is a wonderful thing. Love each other, and laugh, promise me, you will laugh. Take care of what was mine, ( OK he is still mine, he is on loan!) ( OK, he is yours, baby steps) Seriously, you are both so lucky and blessed.
 See you soon, at the park, in June, wearing......many kinds of shoes....in New Orleans with the chicken voodoo people, spreading love and joy!! Lord have mercy, I can smell the gumbo and hear the music, its a Baron/Charbonnet wedding, and people will have a blast. ( would say something in French, but that would require me looking it up and that is not happening, so Grab A Beignet! Bon Temps? Geux be happy?

My May Muse

   David Sedaris is my muse on so many occasions. So when he recommends a book, I snap at it.
   And....he never disappoints...god bless him...an unusual character quality in a human! ( plus, if you know him, he picks up trash all over the place, every day on his daily walks!!) ( love him)

  I thought since I have not mentioned reading to my readers, that I should do so today.

 We are on countdown to The Wedding, mixed in with spring, summer, kidney stones, and concrete!
 My reading has dwindled to a couple of books a month, maybe three if I try hard, so much is going on.  Planting tomatoes, and flowers, photography and painting consume my time. If the sun is shinning, I will be near it, lathered in sunscreen, and happy as a clam! Reading will still find a way, and what a delight to have two good books to tell you about.

  The Undertaker's Daughter by Kate Mayfield and The Splendid Things We Planned: A Family Portrait by Blake Bailey

The first, I read in honor of the Cox Family. I respect anyone whose family is in the undertaker business.
I knew before I opened the Kindle!, that this was going to be a jewel.

Here are some quotes;
     * the obituaries, which my mother proofread with a  magnifying glass like Sherlock Holmes! ( Mary B)
     *My mother, intolerant of noise at any time, was perfectly suited to this line of work. ( I think I may have missed my calling)
     * He addressed most people by their first and middle names, as if to remind them of their whole selves. ( The south is forever doing this!)
     * She could beat a horse down to its knees with one of her prayers! ( Amen)
     *She has never lost her melancholy charm. ( We love melancholy in the south, dripping with sweat!!)
     * Somewhere along the line of development Evelyn made a sharp turn and never looked back!)
     * But when it comes to death, all bets are off, they come flying out of the corners, unleashing emotions that have been pent up, decorum out the window!)
     * they either combust or they are buried deep in the grave ( secrets)
      * there is nothing calm about her
      * we had an awful lot of God in our town
      * I'd felt more air circulate inside a mausoleum than in a school classroom!
I highlighted something on every page of this book, it is rich and yummy.

The second book, which I am still reading, is turning out just so darn good, below I will leave you with some pearls.....
       *cuss out his best bird dog, then pet him as he would a child.
       *The disinclination was mutual
       *who looked as though she excreted marshmallows!! ( a great line, no girl ever Poops!)
       * Weeds don't Die ( a great blog title that I will steal in the future)
       *her frantic smile dissembling some pretty complicated emotional weather
I love emotional weather in people, that is where the stories are. The south, to me, produces the best.
These are two books, that cause you to take a breath and wish that you had said it! wrote it! thought it!

Yes its summer, and so much to do, you can still bring a friend. A good book or three!

   

Throw It Into Reverse, Not Finished!

     I found another Jimi Hendrix movie/documentary on Netflix. Yes that is right, I have gone crazy about my Jimi, research continues.
     Jimi Hendrix-My Train a Commin-and our boy plays himself! This is a true story, very much like the fiction one I watched earlier in the week, but this one had music, lots of music. Its all original footage, and its wicked good.
    When you go back and look at this, you are transported in time. Then at the end when this 27 year old genius has died, you have to take pause. Mother of Jesus, 27 is young, but he lived seventy years in those few. I think he was done, I have to believe this. What he left behind, is still amazing.
   One man, a yes man, who worked for Rolling Stone said, " When Jimi Hendrix came to be, the stars were aligned. Where were those stars on that day in 1970, when he did not wake up?"

                             "The Wind Cries Mary"
                         After all the Jacks are in their boxes,
                         and the clowns have all gone to bed,
               you can hear happiness staggering on down the street,
                         footprints dress in red.

                         And the wind whispers Mary.

                         A broom is drearily sweeping
               up broken pieces of yesterday's life.
                          Somewhere a Queen is weeping,
                          somewhere a King has no wife.

                        And the wind it cries Mary.

               The traffic lights they turn blue tomorrow
               and shine their emptiness down on my bed,
                      The tiny island sags downstream
                      'Cos the life that they lived is dead.

                      And the wind screams Mary.

                      Will the wind remember
               The names it has blown in the past,
               And with this crutch, its old age and its wisdom
               It whispers, " No, this will be the last."

                      And The Wind Cries Mary.

He was a sexual toothpick of a boy, oozing magic. A poet and a charmer, who touched the guitar and it sang.
He sang to thousands and to one.
The one, being me.

                      

Purple Haze, Little Red Corvette, Lucille, and Kurt.

 The above title to this blog may baffle you, but if you are a music lover, probably not.
  Starting last week, I began a look-see into several musicians.
  Some by chance, and some by fate.
  Again, my ride, is a wild one!

  My number four son, and favorite child told me that I should watch the Kurt Cobain documentary. So when my best friend Susan was here, and she loves music like I, we started to watch. Note we watched whenever we took a breath from talking. After a few minutes, we stopped, and shook our heads at the sadness we had seen. Later in the week, I watched it again. Horror filled my heart, and wonder at his gift, left me with a strange sense of "why". I hate too many "whys", they consume me. One documentary is not enough, then I have to read three books, to help me see the big picture, and the big picture is never there. Drugs, alcohol, surrounding yourself with loser people, will never help you crawl out of the whole, yet....there is his music. Amazing.

As the week continued, I heard early in the morning, that the beloved B.B. King died. He lived a long life, so I was not sad, I was so happy that I had seen him live, and he had lived in my lifetime. His Blues could lift you up or take you down in a minute. My guitar gently weeps, as George would say.

Then I got to thinking about all the guitar genius people that I love, and on top of the list is always and forever, Jimi Hendrix. I combed Netflex and found a new film about him, so my research began. It was an enjoyable movie, in showing his shy self, however it never showed his prowess on the guitar. It was his early years, and his playing was always better then the best, I just wanted to hear the songs of my heart.
His sexual being, played by Andre Benjamin, was nice. I think Jimi's sexual tension, was probably palpable, and for sure electric! and people that was without the guitar plugged in. Jesus, he was a master, and drugs were his master. So happy to live in his lifetime, and have his music. My heart is full of Joy!

I finally. I think its Saturday, settle down and turn on the telly and, PRINCE is on , in Purple Rain!

I look around the room, to see if anyone can figure out, why I am having these wonderful experiences with all these greats. From acoustic with Kurt, Blues with B.B. and Lucille, Jimi at Monterey, then Prince! Holla at your girl, this has been a week of guitar playing giants, pioneer singers with their own style, and they are mine!! Well, they have been with me all week, it has been lovely and I am purely drained.
 You can only handle so much great music, said who?
  I am going to crank out some as soon, as I purge my love on my blog.
  Music heals me, thrills me, consumes me, music is me! My soul sings, and this week has been filled UP!
 

In The Hood!

  Yes, I count my self in the Motherhood group of people.
   It is the only occupation that never lets you go,. Motherhood is a life sentence, in many ways. Good,bad, happy, sad and all other emotions known to man.
                                Motherhood: All love
                                begins and ends there.
                                               Robert Browning

 It is a roller coaster ride, with funnel cakes and vomit!!
 A hurricane and a cool breeze.
 Magic and mayhem.
 Mother's Day is ours, and I love it.

My life as a mother, is very wacky. You see I have been so lucky to be so many kinds of mothers.
A stepmother to Brian and Keith, a birth mom to Ward and Hart and an adoption momma to Queen Emma.
Five bright, cute, odd, loving humans, I have had the privilege of molding! Loving them, fighting with them, watching them grow, hoping they took all my good parts, and trashed any bad. They are wonderful adult people, who call me Bonnie and Mom and two little ones that I mother, call me Uma!

I also am a mom of grief. We lost our Ward, almost 8 years ago. At the age of 25, his time on earth was over. He lived his full life, and I do not understand his departure. His love remains with me, and I still mother him. I mother his memory, and speak his name daily. So as happy as Mothers Day is, it is also, broken in places that will not heal.

I choose to live my life in a place of Joy, even through unspeakable pain, it is joy that I search for and find.

I remember when I was first pregnant and felt a flutter, I laid on the floor for hours, hoping to feel it again.
Bill came home from work, and asked me what was I doing.
I just laid there, quiet and pointed to my abdomen. He came over, knelled, put his hand where I was pointing, and smiled. I yelled, " Do you feel it! Its like fairy wings!" ( note we, had not been married very long! maybe four months!!!!!) My new husband said, " Please don't tell me you believe in fairies!" ( here comes the chemist talking!)
I stay quiet, " OK, maybe angel wings!!!!)
Who is this stranger talking, " Angels?"
"Yes I believe in all these things, Tinker Bell and Angels We Have Heard On High!" move over Princeton grad, there is a new MOM in town, and I feel a flutter!!! and its the best thing that has ever happened to me, so it has to be Holy and Magic, Jesus and Disney!
Then I became sick......
I craved tuna fish sandwiches with sliced apples on it!
I had August babies, so my feet looked, well if you are a mom, you know!!
Adopting a child, the feeling is just as intense, but my feet looked nice!
Being a Stepmom is not as quick, the love, but when it comes....it is as if you birthed these children.
and again my feet remained cute, big plus!!

Its the best, nothing can prepare you for that kind of love.
And never in a million lifetimes, is a mom ever at peace with the loss of a child.
I would do it all again, Keith, Brian, Ward, Hart and Emma, you are my joy.
You gave me Mothers Day, forever.
 

Life Is A Series Of Fat Tuesdays And Ash Wednesdays!

      Last weekend we were in, the mosquito incubator, of the world. Florida also may hole the title, its that Satan's humidity that they love. AND..since we are talking about Satan....I love the humidity also! Mosquitoes don't bite me, or my father, I think our skin is so tough, they go to the next person! Oh, I forgot to tell you, we were in New Orleans, for a Bridal Shower. ( If you read my blogs, which you should, you could connect the dots) We roamed the square, and the air had a little chill in it, but the sweat began to pour.
    I'm convinced that is why people drink so much in these places. One to stay hydrated, ( I think alcohol is not a hydrating beverage! Just go with my story!) and the other to survive.

   I love the people in New Orleans, they are creative ( again could be alcohol?), I love the buildings, and the food is over the top delicious. They eat crayfish, which I think is like a minnow, it needs to be thrown back, However if you catch enough, they can make a yummy dish, when added to tons of other things.
 Along with hooch, hot sauce runs through their veins. Another of my favorite things. When you think about it, why eat hot things, in a hot place? Only answer, alcohol!

   Seafood is abundant, as it should be, Louisiana is like a drainpipe for the States, water flows down, and the state is below sea level, way below! Lordy do they have seafood, their front and back yards is under water!
  I think I forgot to mention music, my heavens, they have music that wails. The Blues, the horns, the soul of the city of New Orleans, is music. Street music, bar music, Jazz festivals, it blares from the open windows of the French Quarter. Mystery, Music and Pleasure walk the streets, and a party is had by all.
  The art work is rural, and extreme, honest and alive. I saw a wooden sign that said, "Life is a series of Fat Tuesdays and Ash Wednesdays!" and that about wraps it all up nicely.
  Voodoo, and Jesus, live hand and hand. I like my voodoo dolls, wearing a cross, sitting next to Mary and the baby, I feel protected from chickens and Satan!

   It is a melting pot, of history and the pains of mother nature.
   I hope you get to see it, and feel it, and should her some love.
   You will come away changed, not always for the better ( choices!) but changed.
   The city is alive, and owns a piece of my heart.