Under the Weather

One day last week I wasn't feeling my best.  Kinda under the weather.

Ok, so maybe "under the weather" isn't the best description of how I truly felt.

Since I consider it my job to tell it like it is, here goes:

It was more like "the room won't stop spinning and if somebody doesn't stop this merry-go-round-on-crack felling I'm feeling, I'm gonna hurl the contents of my stomach on anything in a block radius."  Yea, that's more like how I felt.  Oh, with a dash of saltine crackers and a few flushes of a commode.

And today isn't much better, either, so I'll save a longer post for another day.

We'll talk about things like weekends in Mayberry when you have a full tank of gas and nowhere to be but the Mexican Restaurant.


In the meantime, I hope this view of the river will hold you over.

This is one of the many reasons I will always live less than 20 minutes from a body of water.

Klutzy

It's a busy day today, so I'll be brief.

First things first:  I'm a clumsy person, very clumsy.  I've been known to trip over imaginary lines, walk into walls and fall out of jacked up trucks.  While I'm not very graceful, I can still laugh at myself anytime my hand-eye coordination doesn't work out quite like I'd hope. 

Anyway, Mayberry's little festival that I told y'all about last week is in full swing and I'm helping out some family members with a booth, hence my running around like a chicken with my head cut off.  Well, as you can imagine,  I've found things to trip over and ways to hurt myself the past couple of days. 

This is my left index finger.  Yes, that is a cut.  Normally I wouldn't complain of such a minor injury, but when I'm dealing with fresh cut lemons in the booth I'm helping out in, it makes for a less than pleasant experience.

I'm not sure what I did to cut myself, but I'm blaming the metal clasps on the bags of ice.  Perhaps today I need to steer clear of anything potentially dangerous and dress in bubble wrap. 

Or I could just be careful, but where's the fun in that?

Jackie.

This is my dog.

We call her Jackie, but she answers to just about anything, especially if there is bacon around. So why am I telling you this?

Because she's funny.

And she barks.

And she just doesn't really like me much.


She's 9 years old now (at least I think) but at the time this picture was taken we hadn't had her very long and she was probably about 4 or 5. Her brown coloring has grown lighter as she's gotten gray hair/fur and she's not nearly as pleasant as she used to be.

What does she do exactly?

She weighs 19 pounds but thinks she's 190. If you knock at the door, she will come full speed barking and carrying on like the mob is trying to kill everybody and take off with the loot. And if you're sitting down with her or if she's laying in bed with you and you move a way she doesn't like, a low growl will come followed by a mean, mean bark and another "grrrrrrrrrr..." She means business. And you can forget letting her around other dogs or small children. My brother's dog and her are longtime foes. Actually, I was afraid Jackie killed Lulu once. But in all her "bad girl" persona, if she gets scared enough she will use the bathroom like it's her job. Such a pansy.

But in all this, her temper, her hatred of any other four legged creatures and her need to be the queen, she's still my puppy, and I tend to spoil her on rare occasions.

For instance when I look at her and say "truck" she runs to the door, ready to go outside, knowing what she's about to experience.



And for a few brief moments she loves me again. Then when I'm not paying any attention or stopped somewhere she eats my entire pack of Orbit gum I keep in the cup holder and we're back at square one.

"I Think We're Alone Now"

That song will always been special to me. I remember singing Tommy James & The Shondells ever since I was a kid and it was that song that my dad would turn up and sing to my mom.

Today would have been thier 35th wedding anniversary.


Besides the fact that Dad hated smiling for pictures, you get the idea. Sadly however, Daddy passed away just over a year ago. For their 34th anniversary we were all still in shock. People were still bringing by dinners and checking up on us, making this day last year ok. Not great, but a little more bearable.

Now here we are a year later.

If prayer is part of your life (and I hope it is), would you please say one for my mother? She is perhaps one of the 2 strongest women I know and today is sure to be rough for her. Thanks guys!

-Rach

Parade Scenes. Circa 2007.

It's September! In Mayberry this month revolves around one word: CORN! We're harvesting it, eating it, shucking it, freezing it, canning it, creaming it and frying it. Heck, we even have a festival devoted to it every third weekend of September. This year's Corn Festival is coming up next weekend and I'm excited. I'll be in the lemon shake-up booth while everyone else enjoys the various events, but it'll be fun just the same.

I know you're brimming with anticipation to hear about how it goes so to tie you over, here are a few scenes from the parade a few years ago...

Mom and my sisters love seeing the different floats in the parade.


Like the high school wrestling team, who seems to go to State every year. Actually, I believe that the year this was taken they won state.


Then there's the football team, who wasn't doing so hot that year. But this year's team is ranked in the top 10 in the state right now for their class. Woo!


Popcorn, anyone?


My kid sister loves the parade. And she loves the candy various floats toss to the crowd.

I love the parade, too.

Pitter Patterage

I believe in love.

Kind of.

I believe that "till death do us part" actually means something to some people. Take my grandparents, for instance. They've been married for 64 years and love each other more today than the day they said "I do."



While long marriages are good and great, I also believe that some people will never find someone to share their piece of forever with. But that's not what I'm gonna talk about today, that's another episode on the soapbox entirely.

Today is all about what comes before the 64 years of wedded bliss.

Before forever can cross your mind or the L-word pass through your lips, there is something else, right? Something you can't define or put your finger on but you know it's there. It's like an electricity going through you when your Beloved comes into view. It's a look, it's a feeling - one I've only been given by 2 people in my entire life. (This feeling isn't love by any means, so don't think I am or have ever been in love with those two lucky men, because neither of them will ever hear those words from my mouth.)

Continuing, I call this feeling "pitter patterage" but you can call it what you want. This excitement is the look I described back in May when I was overcome by the heart flutters in a local establishment in downtown Mayberry. And the source of that look still gives me the pitter patters, although it's really getting old and by "old" I mean I like it, relish it and frankly I enjoy it, but it can stop at anytime because my poor heart just can't take it.

That is the source of today's post.

I'm all for someone making my heart go wild every time I see them, but only if the feeling is mutual. Dual pitter patterage is the best pitter patterage. However, in my current situation it is one-sided with no hopes of ever being more. Now the tricky question: Since I know nothing will ever come of this feeling, why is it still there? Why does this person still have that affect on me every time we speak? How does one text message that just says "hey what have you been up to" make me lose my train of thought and forget my name for a few seconds? What was I talking about again?

See what I mean about being annoying? It's aggravating and I'm starting to think it's overrated, too. Who needs their heart to palpitate uncontrollably, anyway? I make a fool enough out of myself without an erratic heartbeat to further prove my weirdness to the world.

Maybe pitter patterage is all in my imagination and there's really no such thing. Maybe I've hyped it all up to mean more than it does. I probably just have an undiagnosed heart condition. Whatever it is, this feeling is getting on my nerves and I can't figure out how to shake it. Maybe dual pitter patterage is in my future. Maybe it isn't. Regardless, I just wish this one sided pitter patterage I have now would go away and take it's false hope with it.

"Send me away with the words of a love song..."

You ever had a crazy dream? You know the kind when you wake up and look around to see where you are and if you have any battle scars? Those dreams just seem SO real and you can't quite differentiate between what really happened and what you thought happened.

I had one of those dreams last night.

A gunshot (in my dream) woke me up in a cold sweat and I looked around my dark bedroom in sheer horror, wondering what on God's green earth just happened. I couldn't figure out why I dreamed up that certain scenario in my head and, while sparing you the details, I had no idea as to why the people involved were there in the first place and how the setting we were in came about.

My brain must be fried. Perhaps I shouldn't go to bed on a full stomach anymore. Or maybe it was that NCIS episode I watched as I drifted off to sleep? Yea, definitely no more of that. But Gibbs and Abby make me laugh. Oh well, I'll get over it.

_______________

On another completely unrelated note, I have a song stuck in my head today. While this is nothing out of the ordinary, I find it humorous due to the song's title. I first heard "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry while I was driving down a back road a couple months ago late at night. My windows were down and I was on a narrow road with tall rows of corn on both sides and a warm breeze slowly blowing through the cab of my truck. Then that song came on and the eeriness of my surroundings were multiplied.




As I listened to the lyric, I couldn't help but fall in love. Death has always fascinated me and I even began planning my own funeral at age 18, certain I would die before I hit 30. My family blamed it on the stage 4 cancer discovered in my dad and never really said too much about it. Then after going to the only funeral home Mayberry has one afternoon to look at caskets, my dad had enough. I've known the Funeral Director my entire life, as he and Dad were good friends, and as soon as I got home I was told to drop it because "you're not dying anytime soon." Now I plan in silence. There's a playlist on my iPod of songs I want played and a Microsoft Word document of what to do once I kick the bucket. I'm such an optimist like that.

Anyway, back to this song.

"If I die young bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song"

Wow! For the next three minutes and forty eight seconds I had goosebumps.

"And I’ll be wearing white when I come into Your kingdom
I’m as green as the ring on my little cold finger
I’ve never known the lovin' of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holding me hand
There’s a boy here in town says he’ll love my forever
Who would have thought forever could be severed by
The sharp knife of a short life, well
I’ve had just enough time"

Man I love this song! One of my best friends and I were riding around a couple of weeks ago and she asked if I'd heard of it. When I said yes she said "Oh my gosh, I thought it sounded like something you'd write!" I couldn't help but chuckle. If you haven't heard it, go buy it on iTunes right now!

I'm going to go add this to my playlist now so people have something to laugh about as they stand in line to express their condolences (or joy, because you never know) to my family.

Hermit

Today was Monday. For the record, I've never really disliked Mondays but every now and then a Monday comes around that makes me realize why everyone else around me can't stand them.

Today was one of those Mondays.

Don't get me wrong, nothing horrendously awful or atrocious happened, but none the less I was off my game.

It started when I was getting ready for work and mixed up my eyeliner pencils when I didn't have my contacts in yet. Then at work I failed to differentiate between "good morning" and "good afternoon" every time the phone rang. And making the day complete were the numerous random blond moments that I have on an everyday basis, but multiplied by 9.

So what caused this? I have a theory.

This weekend I was a hermit. No Friday or Saturday night plans evolved and after church yesterday I came right home. My social skills need some exercise. One thing is for sure, this weekend I have to get out of Mayberry and find my way to a town with more than five stoplights. Or maybe I'll just find my way out on a backroad surrounded by half-harvested corn fields and pastures of cow manure.

No matter where I end up this week, I definitely will have to stop being a hermit and get outta this house. I can barely wait!

Have a great week, everyone!

No ifs, ands, or butts

What is wrong with this picture? Anybody?

How did this cigarette butt make it's way into my floorboard? I don't smoke. I find that habit repulsive. There is no smoking in my vehicle and I most certainly have no idea what to think of this.

I'm sure it probably got stuck to my shoe or something one day, but what a nerve this cigarette butt has. It's a brave little bugger! How dare it!

I hate cigarette butts.

Just thought you should know.

Writer's Block

Ok, so in my last post I ranted a bit, but you know what? It turns out I was right. Now I'm happy to report that no tears were shed, as the perpetrator was stopped before anything bad happened and everybody is happy as a clam here in Mayberry.

I really don't live in Mayberry, but it sounds good, right? Anywho, I don't really know what to write about today. Nothing super interesting has happened lately and I'm suffering from a horrible case of writer's block. I feel like the world's worst blogger since it's almost been a month since I've posted anything.

Surely something fun has happened to me in the last month.... hang on, I'm thinking......

Oh yea, now I remember! I had a blind date (which is nothing new for me I suppose based on the way this summer has panned out) but then it was pointed out that in a six week span I had 3 different first dates. Then at the end of two came one of the dreaded lines "Well, you're really fun and nice, but..." Then it can be any number of excuses, all of which I've heard at least twice: "I'm just not ready for a relationship right now." "You're too much fun to waste your time with a guy like me." "I still have feelings for someone else." "I think of you more as a great friend." "I'm moving overseas tomorrow for five years." "I start a job in Kenya next week to help feed starving children and won't have any contact with the outside world."

Ok, so maybe I went a little overboard on the last two, but I seriously have heard it all. Two of the three dates ended with those lines and while I applaud honesty in matters of the heart, at the same time I wonder why men could take a gal out when they have no romantic feelings for her. I mean, if you're still hung up on an old flame, I understand. I've been there. But if I were in your shoes I'd try and get over it before embarking on another excursion. And what's worse than hearing one of those lines? Not hearing a thing. When the date is over and he's walking you to the door, he says "We need to do this again sometime." Well that's all wonderful, but if you then drop off the face of the Earth, a girl is left wondering what the heck is wrong. Don't act interested if you're not. It's not very chivalrous.

But the date that didn't end in one of those lines actually went well. He actually seems interested. And he actually calls me first. Everyday. But (you knew that was coming), he lives two hours away and neither of us want to be in a long-distance relationship. Then why did we go out in the first place? A favor for friends. We thought if we did then they'd shut up and leave us alone, but now here we are a month later in a situation we really don't know how to handle. So, we do nothing. We're friends, I think. But when we see each other it's like we're a couple, I think. Let's just leave it on cruise control.

Oops. I think I ranted again.

On another note, Mayberry is a farming community and the harvest season has begun! Driving to work this morning I met combines, trucks hauling corn headers and semis filled up on the way to the elevator. Let me tell you, I loved every second of it. Then I got behind a tractor and bush hog on the highway this morning, and while usually I think 55 mph is too slow, driving 35 behind a John Deere doesn't bother me at all. I'm a dork like that. In fact, this dork took a picture. Please excuse the 763 bugs on my windshield.


Have I mentioned that I love living in Mayberry?