Monday, April 21, 2008
Grandson, Chandler, playing one of his many favorite games.
My Parent's Bed Minus One of My Parents
It will soon be occupied by them both as my mom will, once again, be released from rehab and sent back home. My dad refuses, once again, to choose to move to Assisted Living. I respect his wishes, but still grieve that there is no easy answer for them. It is hard learning to let one's children make their own choices, and it is just as hard sometimes to accept one's parents' choices.
Hey, by the way, mom would be very upset that I took a picture of her bed unmade. If she was at home this would never have occurred.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Thought I would show you a little of the sweet pleasures in my life. I have a very difficult time with my work. I do not like it at all. Yeah, right! I get to create gifts each month for corporate thank you deliveries. This is one of the things I created for May. A pot of jumbo lollipops , that are just delicious, growing in a glass vase wrapped in an old fashioned bun napkin. The tag reads Spring Has Sprung. The napkin is embroidered with little pink flowers and is edged in lace. I found these while on an antique buying trip in Round Top, TX. If you like antiques, google Round Top, TX. and go to the Round Top or Warrenton market. You will see more sweets for the antique and junk lover's eyes. Oh how very sweet it is. Am thinking I will start posting some of my creations on Etsy. Mike Putman, I want to take your class at Mystic Paper on the 24th, but am not sure we will be home from Pinetop. I will be signing up, if at all possible. My Favorite Presentation
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Now, if I could have only eaten the plate!
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
No photos allowed!
I had never done this type of thing before. Well, at least not with a woman. I had experienced it many times with a man. After all, I am 60 years old,widowed once, so I have been around the block a few times. I was a bit nervous when I made the arrangements, on the phone. I was using a different service and just did not know about the reliability. In fact, after the first time I called, I ended up cancelling all together. Got nervous. Decided it was silly to be nervous. I needed to do this for myself. It was important to my well being. Emotionally I needed a little kick! Called back and rescheduled. Felt like being a little bold and different. Should have known not to cancel the first time. Wish I had not chickened out. Now I would be told I would have to wait a month to experience this with a woman. Guess women with women are more popular than I thought. Oh boy, I'm excited now. What will she look like? Will she be kind? Has she much experience with this type of thing? Well, that's a silly question. I am having to wait over a month to be with her. "CeCe, put it out of your mind. Wait till it is nearer time to start thinking about this", I tell myself. I do put it out of my mind until the day arrives for the fun. I told myself it would be fun. Women are strange creatures sometimes. They try to trick themselves. Yesterday, April 14, 2008, finally arrived. It will go down in my memory. I wasn't sure where the location was. As I said earlier, I had never been there before. Found it relatively easily but I was nervous. Hum, debit cards accepted. This industry has come a long way. Did I mention I was nervous? As it turned out I could not even use my debit card to pay because I tried five different pins so the machine refused to let me try anymore. The service did not take American Express so I could not put it on my husband's credit card. Guess, come to think of it, only fair I pay for my own entertainment. Alright, put it on my credit card. Wait some more. More nerves. Shown into room. Alright, not exactly the most comfortable, inviting of surroundings. I could definitely design a more appealing environment for this type of entertainment. Decidedly too sterile- needs a lot more femininity. Just as I am pondering what in the world I am doing this for she comes in. Attractive, young, very stylish. She is wearing pointed black heels. Very pointed black heels. Sexy. I ask her if her shoes hurt. She smiles a lovely smile. She tells me actually they are very comfortable . Then she reveals it is the first time she has worn them and she kicks them off and smiles again. Small talk begins. After all I have thirty minutes scheduled with her. She tries to make me comfortable before she approaches. She has done a pretty good job of this. My nervousness has lightened. She begins with my breasts. Things are going well. I manage to even make a joke. She smiles again. Then without further ado it happens. This is NOT what I had envisioned by being with a woman. I almost fly up in the air from pain. She tells me to relax. I try. It happens again. Am I really paying $160. for this? Why? The third time I am ready to get dressed and leave. She tells me she is going to get another woman for me. "What?, Is something wrong?" I ask. I tell her I have never had this pain happen before. She mumbles something like she does not want to say there is something wrong. She just wants me to try it with someone else. "Someone else? Hey, anybody else or not at all, thank you very much!" I am lying on this bed wondering if something is terribly wrong with my body. I know I have gained some weight, my knees now sag, my toenails need doing and a few other imperfections are available, but goodness, I do not deserve this kind of treatment or humiliation. Just as I am about ready to dress and run new woman appears with first woman. Well, well, another attractive one. Older than the first but this can have advantages. Older women are more experienced than younger ones---well, sometimes. I am hoping that is the case here. Now I have two women in the room. Maybe I will stick around to see what conspires. Introductions are made. New older woman is now giving original woman directions and show and tell is going on. Show and Tell? Show and Tell? What am I doing here? Why did I think being with a woman would be better than being with a man? Why? Why? Why? Surely my thirty minutes is almost up? Then, it is over in a flash. No pain. It is just as I remembered when with former men. My lesson is learned. I will not just go to any unknown person for my annual pap smear ever again, regardless of how stylish their shoes might be. Sometimes modesty and wanting to be with a woman is not the best decision. Sometimes experience is the most important consideration, not gender.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
As a little child:
The worst thing I ever did was steal a packaged set of four glass baby doll bottles from the dime store. I knew it was wrong. I wanted them. I searched for hours looking for just the right picture to post so you could see just how cute and special these bottles were. They were packaged in cellophane. I think there was cellophane that many years ago! I never found the picture that matches the one in my mind. I can still see them so clearly. I can remember paying for something. As I recall, I did not have enough money to purchase them along with what ever else it was for which I paid. I don’t remember the other item I bought. I just remember the bottles. I shoplifted. That is what it is called. I did not do it for the thrill of shop lifting. I did it because I wanted those bottles. The little lines on the glass showing the amount of formula, the little blue and pink plastic rims, the rubber nipples. They were perfect. My baby needed to drink out of cute bottles. I wanted to feed my baby out of cute bottles. I don’t remember asking my mother for more money to buy them. I would guess I did not want to risk her saying no. You see, if she said no and then I took them she would later see them and I would be in big trouble. Never did I realize I would be in big trouble ( at least the kind of big trouble a little child knows ) for all my life, simply because of my decision. Is that not the way it often is? Every time I see a picture of a celebrity ,or anyone for that matter, on television news, caught for shop lifting, my mind plays back my shop lifting experience and I feel grateful. Grateful that I was a child, grateful that I was not on the news and grateful my dime store shop lifting day ended a very long time ago.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Thursday, April 3, 2008
I did not write the following. I wish I was this wise.
In my life, I have referred to this anonymous writing many times. Funny, I met someone new this week and I knew she needed to read this. I captured it from my files for her. Before passing it along, I read it again myself. I instantly realized it was my blessing to have thought she would benefit. You see, from thinking I was helping another, I was truly helping myself.
To Let Go does not mean to stop caring.
It means I can't do it for someone else.
To Let Go is not to cut myself off.
It's the realization that I can't control another.
To Let Go is not to enable, but to allow learning
from natural consequences.
To Let Go is to admit powerlessness.,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To Let Go is not to try to change or blame another,
It's to make the most of myself.
To Let Go is not to care for, but to care about.
To Let Go is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To Let Go is not to judge, but to allow another
to be a human being.
To Let Go is not to be right in the middle arranging all the outcomes
but to allow others to effect their destinies.
To Let Go is not to be protective, but to permit
another to face reality.
To Let Go is not to deny, but to accept.
To Let Go is not to nag, scold or argue, but instead to search out my own
short comings and correct them.
To Let Go. is not to adjust everything to my own desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish myself to it.
To Let Go is not to criticize and regulate anybody,
but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To Let Go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.
To Let Go is to fear less, and to love more.
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
It's A Heartache, Nothing But A Heartache
Eighty two year old mother unhappy most of the time.
Eighty seven or eighty eight year old father unhappy most of the time.
Eighty two year old mother wearing my father out.
Eighty seven or eighty eight year old father wearing my mother out.
Eighty two year old mother and eighty seven or eighty eight year old father wearing my heart out.