Even Hurricanes Get Dull If You Suffer Through Enough Of Them.

I have come to the conclusion, that suffering is not needed. I don't need another lesson, on how to be thankful, I get it!! ( I have had many talks with God and the Universe about this problem)
    The loss of a child, took me to my knees and I am done!! I remain on my knees, to this day. Same person, just baffled by this need for people to suffer.
    The blog title came to me, while looking at a book review, this book, The Recovering Intoxication and It's Aftermath by Leslie Jamison. People and self suffering, makes my head swirl. I have so many friends that are recovering addicts, and I could not be more proud. Many relatives and friends, that are still in the 'death grip' of hangovers, and combination of bad drugs. ( Are there good drugs?? Sure, I think??) Addiction is horrible, numbing and so wicked. What does that kind of suffering teach you. I think you can learn, that life is so grand without these monkeys on your back. Damn Monkeys !!
   I have had my share of toilet hugging hangovers, and pill popping of my youth. You do remember what the years of my growing up were!! The 60's and 70's, I regret very little, and am so beyond blessed to come out on the other side. I love a good drink, and can enjoy it, I stopped smoking cigs thirty years ago, and I still miss the comfort that came from lighting a match!!! No drugs pass my mouth, not even pain pills after surgery. Tylenol is all I swallow, and you know it doesn't work worth a damn. So maybe the suffering of my youth taught me, that I was happy with out the numbness of alcohol, I don't know.?? I saw many a black lung before I stopped smoking, having babies stopped that habit.
   My addictions are reading, my family, too much on line shopping!! ( OK, I am working on that ) ( it may be the hardest to break!) You can be addicted to good things, color, paints, flowers, music, hearing from people, education. I want to be present.
   As Ram Dass says, In Loving Awareness. I need that, and a good glass of wine.  I want to look at a clock that all the numbers say 'NOW' that is what time it is. Dass says suffering is GRACE, and I pause to think. I know he is probably right. I know Jesus did not want us to suffer, but....do we learn GRACE in the process.
    While getting ready to bathe this Sunday morning, I was talking to my cat, Diana. " D, do you think love is the answer?" I waited for her reply. OK a look, me nodding my head, " I know, me either, Love is a bonus, but you have to do the work!!"
     Every single second in each day, help others who are suffering, help those who are strong.
    Just be aware, of your breath!! and don't get stuck in the land of addiction. There is so much help available and love to aid you in your search. Maybe this blog finds no one who has any problems, and that would make me feel great. You know I don't think you need to suffer, it can get Dull!! like a hurricane that is just a tropical storm in your life.
    Art washes away from the soul the dust of life-Picasso
   ( watched a documentary on this crazed man this week, and have been watching the National Geographic series on him)( plus doing my research for Barcelona in the fall) ( addicted to research and knowledge!!)( and there are no calories!!)
   Let us dust off our problems, address them, and walk each other home. ( Dass gave me the home part!!)
      Oh and Diana, the cat, ( who is mental) just gave me the look of love, I think it is the answer!
   Love, Love, Love, Love comes to you through my words, and out into the world.
     Thank you to all the men and women who helped protect our country, and did not come home. We honor your life, and speak of you today and always.

"Just Sit Down and Purrrrrrr..."

Tomasina, aka Tom, was one of my many cats, in my earthly life. She was long haired, orange/blond, of Persian persuasion. I had Tiger, Tom, Poppy ( Susan's Cat and I think mine?) ( we had another one, but I cant remember the name), Precious, a Kroger box cat, only liked Emma, Laney, Ward's one legged cat, and Diana, who still reigns to this day.
      Tom lived in six different apartments, and once at the farm, ending her time on earth with BA. and Carol. They took care of her, way before medical marijuana was legal to use. She had a kidney disease at the end, I think. She had a great adventure of a life, and she would sit on your lap. A lap cat is so nice a treat. She would pat my face when she wanted me to get up and feed her, she was an angel cat. Or at least that is my memory of her, and truly that is what matters.
 I was telling Diana about her this morning. I raised my voice saying, " Just sit down and purr!" She is all over the place, on me, but not in a good way. Nudging me for attention, up in my space. She is very co-dependent, and fluky, irregular, pure odd.

This blog is all over the place, just hang in!!

I begin the morning aggravated about a movie preview. The New Jurassic Park movie. The main character was asking a Velociraptor, " Don't you remember me?" 

I looked over at , Hubs in the chair, " You don't talk to a Velociraptor, they will scarf you down and say you taste like chicken! Then say, "Yes I remember you!"

  Then The Chemist from Princeton spoke, " Well, you talk to animals, and maybe they smelled thier one time caregiver?"

 Me, " You cannot be friends with these creatures!!" ( I am rattled!)

Bill, " Its a Science Fiction movie ." Now I know he is not listening to me, my eyes have almost rolled shut, as I head upstairs. I pounce on my bed, and here comes needy Diana, likes both of her ears pulled at the same time, takes the remote from me, bugs me to death. 

   I proceed to tell her, about Tom and how calm and sweet she was, that too fell on deaf ears.

     My mornings are always interesting, Bill and I solve most of the worlds problems, in just a few minutes. This morning was not one of those moments. He will not remember this conversation, if I bring it up again, or more like it, he pretends to tune out and not discuss these big things in life!!!!

Which I understand, we have been married a long time, and he knows I will just talk to the animals, and they listen and agree with me!!! I have a charmed life, I will just sit down and purr......

Alternate Spelling

   Looking in the dictionary, this hot Saturday, in Georgia, I discovered that meander has an alternate spelling, Maeander. I just thought, gosh I bet many words, thoughts have alternate spelling and meaning!!! The English language fascinates me, and being from the south, we have out own language!!
   A couple of days ago, I came down stairs and poured my coffee. I thought, if I get stuck on a desert island, coffee is coming with me. Hot or cold, I love it. I could be a coffee-holic, is that a word??
I also came to the realization that I meander anymore. Move very slowing and absorbing my surroundings. I skipped over being like my mother, and went straight to 'One Nanny', ( I had two), or Grandmother which we called her later on. I open doors to look outside, to see how my plants have grown, smell the dirt after the rain, grab a granola bar, listen to the birds, looking around my kitchen, as if I am seeing it for the first time!! I am my grandmother, it took her over an hour to make a piece of toast, and place it before me. She drank her coffee at her sink, just looking around. Her ice water jug in the fridge, would be pulled out, unscrewed and poured into a little glass, like a ballet. I never in my life saw her move fast, or hurry. She carried a big purse, and put on hose and a girdle like a surgeon. When she would bathe me, when I was little, she cleaned in between each of my toes, ever so slowly.
       Now my coffee is cold. I talk to the cat, "There You are", telling her that the birds are saying "You can't get me!" go look.
      It was a cool morning, but I knew the heat was coming, so even the crisp air was my friend.
I draw up Diana, the cats, diabetes shot, and  slowly rub my hand over the granite where Wyatt had sat, the day before.
     Finally, still shuffling my slippers, the hubs says, " What are you doing?"
 Well.."Iam thinking about my grandmother, ( only one Bill knows) her purse, her skin, they way she puffed a cigarette and did not inhale!!!" " She moved so slow, and I think with a purpose."
     I am you Mary Alice!!! I carry my big purse, I stroll. I see your pecan trees and back porch stairs, and that scary garage as I type. Your ear bobs, your lipstick, your love of church, your chair, shaped to your body, sweet memories come to me.
  Relaxed and deliberate, you lived a life filled with love. Your daughters, sisters and brother, your grandchildren, nieces and nephews, neighbors, church friends, work friends, took care of you forever, and we reaped the rewards.
     Happy Mothers Day Gran, Happy Mothers Day Mom, Happy Mothers Day aunties that I adore, Happy Mothers Day Friends and Family that have this job of raising babies!!
     Strong women, surround me, and lift me up!!
     Happy Every Day to all women, who mother kids all over the world.
    And take care of yourself, that is how you become the good mother. You first, is not selfish, it is the most important job you have!
     To My Ward, you remain my child, you are in my body, my feet, my hands, we walk together, forever, ( Thank you Harriet for that poem/story this morning) Sharing is caring.
     Love wins, a mothers heart wins, Happy Mothers Day All.

Cornbread and Recollection

   I have decided on this day in May, to write down some of my notes from the college courses I have been a part of.
    Such as the title of this blog, southern people, we are born storytellers. We fled the nets of family, religion and politics, and then tell all about it.
    We have a braided history of the south, race, class and gender.
    An oral tradition of sermons, camp meetings, auctioneers, grandparents, teachers, neighbors, blues singers, sharing the words of their lives.
    Living libraries, every moment we are awake, we are talking about something.
    Faulkner said, " In the South the past is never dead. It's not even Past!"
   The south lingers in your ear, even when you wish it would go away.
The sentences that you just read, are all from my notes.
     The course I just finished, Plagues, Witches and War, The World of Historical Fiction, is what you will read next. I adore Historical fiction, and this course was great. ( few audio problems, but I have the text on also)
      Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities, The President's Daughter, Coopers Leatherstocking, House of Velvet and Glass, Caleb's Crossing, Years of Wonder, Fever, The Ghost Bride, so many more.
    Some describe it like furniture in your brain, that you rearrange. Fiction, History, research and imagination. Historical Fiction writers are always looking over their shoulder, which they should. The writers have to also have much empathy and knowledge for the time period, Medical journals, maps, many letters and diaries, newspapers, personal stories, researched base stories. AND if they happen to be written about the south, a little freedom to embellish!! We ( southerns writers) can only describe moss and humidity like none other. The search for people's voices, what a divine journey that is, and can be. Hemingway said historical fiction writers, often write about something they over hear, or pieces of the wreck of their entire life, creep in. Along with a lifetime, of research.
    There was one author talking about the Bubonic Plague , they had many facts to help them tell the story, but how do you describe the sound of someone keening for a dead child. That takes a writer to reach far and deep, and how? How do you write about emotion, put yourself in someones shoes, without having to walk in them. Fascinating genre, at least to me.
    So much to learn .
  I have signed up for two more courses, Dr. Baron is taking a break, he is teaching summer classes.
  1. Introduction to Who Wrote Shakespeare, University of London.
  2. Aboriginal Worldviews and Education, University of Toronto
    I think both of these are Coursera, hope you join me.Give it a whirl, get those brain cells clicking.
      Now, I need to go do some yard work, pick up some photos, that I had printed, enlarge them, so I can paint from them,. ( I need them large to see everything!!) I should think about, what we are eating for supper, but I am not. Need to call mom, text Emma, and enjoy this weather. Honestly, sunshine is the cure to all, soak it up. Take notes, you are a born storyteller, I promise.

DEEP IN my purse!!!

     My title of this blog, DEEP IN my purse, is written how I said it! You would have had to be there, and experience the day, to feel my DEEP IN reply.
     After eight hours in the ER with my mother, pulled into the Walgreens pharmacy window, I told her, " It would be nice to see, the sun is so bright." She weakly spoke, "Where are your sunglasses?"
and that is where this blog title came from!! I had no strength left to go digging in my purse to find my glasses. We both burst out laughing, understanding the metaphor. DEEP IN my purse, could mean so many things. We had a rough day, and were hysterical. That is when we saw BIG DADDY pull up beside us to get his pills, we lost it again. Screaming laughing, the pharmacist, has been at the window for some time, I could not speak. Finally I explained our situation, hoping that mom's meds could be quick to get. He knew we may be nuts, so told us they would be ready in 15 minutes. We hollered, Thank You Jesus, and laughed some more. I truly did not think I could take mom home, and come back to get the drugs, without buying drugs off the street for myself. We were spent, and reckless!! Thank God my girl, Emma was with us, at every juncture.
        Now to clarify things????
Fish Camps, Dixie Motels, Drive Through liquor stores, and draped moss drooping from every tree, I must have been home.
    Each year our high school, has a luncheon, and I had never been. Mom went to my high school also, Andrew Jackson High School, until they change the name some day!!. so I was going to bring us both, and maybe Emma, I like to show her off!! and really she likes to supervise us!! So bossy!!
   When that Saturday morning rolled around, and mom needed to go to the Emergency Room, for diverticulitis. We were there to assist. The luncheon was put on hold. We were sad, but I told her, at least we have cute clothes for next year. Little did we know, how long Saturday would drag on at the hospital. We were sweet for a spell, and anxious for a few. I had many texts going on, from my brothers and dad. Many times Emma would remind me to be quiet, we were in a hospital. I am convinced, my Blackman family, are the funniest people in the world. AND... we laugh through chaos of any kind. I sent photos, and blow by blow details, of everything going on, sharing is caring!!! They were just happy I was down from Atlanta, to take over for a few. I can not even explain how long and loud we laughed, while mom had her Fentanyl ( I did have a lengthy conversation with nurse, about Prince, and was this the drug that took him out!) ( he explained in depth the micro something, something and they knew what they were doing, blah blah!) When I explained to my brother, mom was cured in less then 60 seconds, with Prince Drugs, he sang Purple Rain!!! This is what makes me love him!! Also I had gone around the hospital taking pictures, lovely new hospital, wonderful artwork, and the bathroom was to die for!! I was telling Benjie, and he hollered, he was there recently and took a photo of the bathroom also. We are funny people!! We pay attention to details, and there is a story behind every corner. If not, we will make one up!!
   Mom had her cat scan, and weekend staff was a little lacking, but having worked in a hospital, I forgive quickly. The blood pressure cuff was off 45 minutes, and I finally had to ask them, at the desk, if they were aware that my mom was not hooked up to any monitor for a long time?? By then I had unhooked the entire system and she had flat lined for over 30 minutes. I just needed a tad of attention, we wanted to go home. ( This is not a trauma ER, they were not busy) Then the sweet nurse came in to hang a bag of antibiotics, and decided to tell us her life story for another hour. I thanked her when she left, for sharing her entire life. Mom and I again began to laugh hysterically, she needed us to listen!!! We attract people to talk MOM!! God Bless this young nurse with two children under two, and a husband that is never home!! God Bless her, geez!!!!
    All that matters is mom is OK, we were there to take care of her and I have endless stories to tell. ( I left out the one about wanting to take a photo of her little tiny breast!!) ( she put her foot down!) ( My brothers needed to see this little raisin)( she is so cute) ( she is so proper)
    We made it home, Emma and I left after seeing them on Sunday. Mom and Dad are really very good, for their age. I feel so lucky to have them here, and so lucky they are my parents. They have always let us kids, be able to say anything to them, and be ourselves.
     And for teaching us that laughter will help you get through the hard stuff, and to write it all down.
  Even hopped up on Prince Juice, Mom would say, " This could be a blog Bonnie, write it down!!"
  I did, mom.