🎇🎆2022 July FROM MY PERSPECTIVE

 

                🎆 2022 July FROM MY PERSPECTIVE 🎇

 “Hurry up.  You’re so slow.  Move it, slowpoke.  We’ll never get this made if you don’t hurry up,” came the harsh words from the father to his son as they sat at a table putting a puzzle together.  The son tried to keep up, but the little fingers were not as dexterous as the father’s.  It about broke my heart listening as they sat a few tables away from Aint Daisy and me.  She and I were researching some of her family’s historical ancestry at the library.  “Oh Aint Daisy, his tone and demands are just about making me want to get up and go tell him to hush.”  She sat watching them not saying a word.  Her eyebrows were knitted together and her jaw was set.  “I know exactly how you feel, chile.  It would be best if I went over and told him to hush, not you.”  And with that she rose, straightened her back and walked over to them.  She stood looking at the father, who looked up at her.  “Excuse me for a minute, please,” she said sweetly.  “Are you aware how old he is compared to how old you are?” she questioned.  The man said he was.  “Then, do you suppose the skill of doing something such as what you’re doing is comparable?” she questioned.  The man started to get a bit sheepish in his posture and voice tone.  “No, I don’t suppose it is,” he responded.  “That’s a nice puzzle you’re putting together and will look real nice when it is done.  Plus, think of all the quality time you’re spending with your child with no interruptions,” she cooed.  The man started to hang his head.  “Please remember:  ‘Anything worthwhile and of good value takes time and diligence.’  I’m sure this time with your son will be moments neither of you will forget.  Enjoy your special time together.”  With that, she returned to our table.  The father’s posture was more relaxed and the little boy’s face changed to a grin.  Aint Daisy winked at me; I'd had another lesson of wisdom from The Lady of the Holler.

In my mother’s kitchen was a drawer full of twister ties from various bread wrappers and other things.  There must have been hundreds.  I asked her if I could clean it out and leave some.  She told me she may need to use them, so I was to leave them right where she had them.  Of course, I thought it was rather silly to have so many, but abided by her statement (o.k. command).  In March of 2001, my siblings and I had to go to the house and start cleaning it out; Mother had drawn her last breath and went to be with Daddy in Heaven.  My sister and I knew some things just had to be tossed, and I decided the “hell drawer” with all the twist ties would be first on my list.  Gleefully I threw almost all of them away.  A few days later, it was found twist ties were needed to secure some bags of trash.  I went to the drawer---NOTHING was there, not even one.  My sister was standing beside me with a smirk on her face.  “It looks like we were too hasty to toss some things,” she cooed with sarcasm.  “Oh, zip it, Colleen,” was the only thing I could think to say.  Guess who has more than 25 twisty ties in a kitchen drawer in her kitchen; just take a wild guess.

THOUGHTS:  “It’s hard to make a comeback when you haven’t been anywhere.”  “Make love not war; Criminies, do both, get married.”  “If pro is opposite of con, then what is the opposite of progress---CONGRESS?”  In a barroom men’s restroom:  “Beauty is only a light switch away.”  “No matter how good she looks, some other guy is sick and tired of putting up with her garbage.” I think they could be in a ladies’ room, too.    “A person forced against their will is of the same opinion, still.”           

Years ago, I asked my Beloved if he’d remembered to do something I’d requested him to do.  His said incredulously, “Of course I did; my mind is like a steel trap.”  I just looked at him remembering the times he’d forgotten my requests.  My baited response was, “And sometimes the trap is empty or the spring’s already been sprung.”  He told me he wasn’t alone with that one.  I have no idea what he was talking about.  

A few days ago, I was cold for some reason.  It was over 80 out, but I was chilly.  I mentioned it to my sweet Tara.  She smiled and said, “Well, Mom, you know when you get old you get chilly faster than young people.”  I smiled and said, “I guess so.”  This person is all of 26!

I was at a hardware store and saw a line of wheel barrows all chained together.  The name of the wheel barrow was SHERLOCK.  I do believe they were not meant to move manure.

Memories are like Ferris wheels, they come around, they have their highs and lows, and they come around again.  It might be triggered by a sight, a sound, a smell, or a sensation.  They’ll bring you a smile, or a tear…maybe both.  No one can take away a memory, and sometimes that’s all we have left.  There’s that smile and a glisten on our cheek.

Brenduhh arrived at the kitchen door with her waist-length hair all teased as high as it could go.  “Come on in.  I’m making some cookies,” I called out.  She came in all excited.  “Hi!  How do you like my hair?  I got it teased up so much,” she proudly announced.  “You sure do.  My, my you have a lot of hair to tease up like that,” I said.  “Oh yes I do.  I had it all tease because it makes my hips look smaller,” she cooed.   “How about some warm cookies and tea, kiddo?” I asked.  During our conversation over warm cookies, she mentioned ice cream and how it would taste so good with the cookies.  “Yesterday I cleared out some space in the freezer,” she proudly announced.  “Oh that must have been quite a job,” I said.  “Nope.  It just sounds so much more productive than, ‘I just polished off another pint of ice cream’.”

Allen Walker Read (1906-2002), a Winnebago, MN sleuth of linguistic oddities, attempted to explain ‘O.K.’, which is probably the world’s most universally understood term.  “He explained that this widely adopted term of agreement did not come from the Choctaw word OKE, from the French idiom AU QUAI, or from the spelling error by Andrew Jackson.  Instead, he showed that because of the linguistic fad popular about 1839, O.K., was coined from the intentional misspelling “oll correct,” for all correct, popularized by U.S. president Martin Van Buren.” Now, in our electronic messaging world, ‘K’ seems to be accepted as a “word” of agreement.  My daughter sent the letter/word of agreement to me.  I volleyed with, “L,M,N,O.”

Weaver’s-talk:  A system of communication by hand-signals and by the silent motions of the mouth and lips, used by the girls in weaving sheds when looms are/were working, the noise being too great to hear ordinary speech.   Sort of like, when you’re in the church pew and your mother is in the choir loft and she sees you being a squirrel.  She slyly signals to you, drawing a line across her throat with her index finger that “death to Smoochie” will happen if you don’t cage yourself.

I was talking with my 26 year old daughter about standing up for herself.  She was learning to do it, but sometimes her tactics were misunderstood.  I gave her a good visual in which to refer.  I stated, “It is fine to stand up for yourself, another, or for a cause; however, for it to be effective, you need to do it like an elephant in charge, not a charging elephant.”

“TRUTH does not mind being questioned; A LIE does not like being challenged.”  Have you ever noticed when someone is lying to you and you question what they said, they have a tendency to get a little defensive or stammer.  And, if you ask them to tell you, again, what they said, it usually has diversity to what was previously said.

Living and working with two autistic spectrum people has been very interesting, to say the least.  We were deep in a conversation about fond happenings of the past.  “Mom, remember when I was just a kid about 8 years old, and you caught me with all those cookies in my pockets?” he said with fondness.  “And, when was that, sweetie?” I asked.  “Oh I think it was last week,” he calculated.  “But you’re 28, buddy.  So, was it really last week?” I inquired.  “Well, it seems like it was,” he reminisced.  The concept of time is not on his side.

Your tiny toe is called a minimus.  Well, that is unless you find the edge of a piece of solid furniture in the dark of night.  Then, it’s called a MAXIMUS.  I know, thanks for the memories, Trudy.   

 In the end of life, it’s been said, “What you’ve accumulated can’t be taken with you.”  Oh yes it can!!  You take all the love given and that you gave, your memories----the good, bad, and ugly----the friendships, and your smile.

Peace, hugs, and smiles to you until August----------Trudy