Monthly Archives: October 2013

I needed to kill some time the other day.  So, I wandered into a consignment store.  I found a beautiful black suede jacket originally from a high-end boutique with the chi-chi store’s tags still hanging from the sleeve.  The consignment maven was asking less than $15.00.  Did I buy that baby?  Absolutely!  I slid out my debit card quicker than you can say “bargain.”

I began my love affair with consignment stores my last year in high school.  That year my father’s company, a small defense contractor, was swallowed up by a bigger company – picture Pac-Man.  My family had been through this dance before; so, we knew what was  coming.  My father was now an executive, for all intents and purposes, at a subjugated country and so had instantly become extraneous and expendable.  In short order, his position was sent to the guillotine – the second time in less than 5 years.  He was devastated as were the family finances, and our entire family dealt with the fallout. Continue reading →

When we were children my sister, L, named her feet.  She called the left one Stinky and the right one John, or maybe I have that reversed.  I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter which one had the derogatory name because as an adult woman L treats both with equal care – bi-weekly pedis, hot stone massages, the whole girly thing.  Also, I’ve never seen evidence of a rebellious crisis: tattoos or any sneaking out of the shoe boxes at midnight to go party.  So, no long-term emotional scarring; it’s all good.

L has always marched to the beat of her own drum.  While I wore cute, frilly dresses with hand-smocking, nylon ankle socks with lace around the edges, and black patent-leather Mary Jane’s, L lived in neon sweaters over black and white striped leggings and red Reebok high-tops.  She was and continues to be her own person. Continue reading →

I was driving – read that as speeding – down a back road the other day, late – if you know me this will not come as a surprise – for a meeting with a friend. Speeding down Shenandoah County back roads is not an easy (or necessarily wise) thing to do; many of them are simply paved over cow paths. I am not kidding. So, there I was speeding down the windy, curvy, dangerous road and up ahead of me (cue dramatic music) Brake Lights! NOOOOO! Continue reading →

The best looking guy I know has auburn hair, bright blue eyes fringed in long dark lashes, and a killer smile.  He dresses well but smells like paste, and is only about three feet tall . Also, he is 4-years old.  This dapper gent who stole my heart the moment I laid eyes on him is named Max.

Max’s mom, M,  is one of my closest friends, and she’s an only child.  So, Max has lots of “Aunties” of which I am proud to be one.  As an auntie, I occasionally am offered the privilege of Max-sitting.  Now, I am not a novice at child care.  I’d attach a CV, but I can just summarize:  I babysat when I was a teen; I worked at a day care during my college summers; during college I worked at the Disney Store in the children’s department (Bet you didn’t know they had departments.);  I was a family practice/pediatric nurse/school nurse, etc.;  I have a niece and nephews; I volunteer with kids.  All this to say: I know how to babysit a toddler – no, really, I do.  Keep reading through to the end if at some point you become appalled and want to picket for my removal at anything that remotely has to do with kids. Continue reading →

Autumn in Virginia brings red and gold leaves, apple butter, and college homecomings.  I look forward to two of these.  Brilliant, vibrant colors smoothed across the Blue Ridge like a rippling quilt make my soul sing.  Apples cooked down with cinnamon scenting the air like fresh baked apple pie, and in the end you have a jar of deliciousness – what’s there not to like?  No, it’s that big “h” that leaves me trembling a-washed with anxiety.

I’m not philosophically opposed to Homecoming; returning to my “roots,” to the nest from which I learned to fly strums my heartstrings of nostalgia.  I love the honeyed notion of reconnecting with friends (and, let’s face it, fiends) I knew long ago.  I’ve changed – my goodness, how I’ve changed.   I’m sure they’ve changed.   Fear of reconnection is not the problem.  So, what’s the deal? Continue reading →

“I used up all my good at school.”  My nephew, Auz, was 4-years old when he delivered this, one of my favorite quotes.  Let me set the scene: my sister-in-law, J, and I relaxed over coffee and girl talk in their Texas kitchen at the end of the day while we waited for my brother, M, to arrive home (hopefully) with Auz in tow.

Suddenly the front door flew open and a pint-sized blond Tasmanian Devil  spun into the foyer and across the house.  He came to rest at his mother’s feet, enormous green eyes glowing up at her.  His little jaw was set determinedly – think Leonidas facing the arriving crazed mass of Persians, though now that I say that it occurs to me that episode didn’t end well.  But I digress.  Back to the kitchen in Texas. Continue reading →

I run because it keeps me sane.  Some people eat ice cream; some people drink vodka; some people scrapbook; I run.  I limit myself to an hour or an hour and a half, and I am SLOOOWWW.  So, I might run 5 or 6 miles, but darn it, I’m running every one of those miles.

I do not listen to music while I’m running.  In a former life (I use that metaphorically not metaphysically.) I was an Air Force officer, and when I ran on base headphones were against regs (You civilians out there, that means they were BAD.).  That’s really smart if you think about it; 120lb person sharing relatively small blacktop with a 2000lb car traveling at speeds of ≥ 45 mph.  Now, I believe I have mentioned before that math was not my forte.  So, I have no idea what the algebraic equation would be if you wanted to know what would happen regarding force and speed; simplified, I’d get squished.  Kinda makes you look at earbuds in a whole new horrible, bloody light, doesn’t it? So, needless to say, I’ve never reverted to the life-threatening earbuds.  Instead, as a way of keeping my mind occupied I pray – is that weird?  Continue reading →

The night sky over Flagstaff, Arizona, shines brightly with a myriad of stars.  It shimmers as if someone with a palm full of glitter blew a gentle dusting of the shiny stuff over the heavens.  Even the city’s street lights know not to interfere with the stars;  the city is designated as an International Dark Sky Community.  That didn’t happen until 2001, but even when I was a child – we won’t discuss how long ago that was – the night skies were beautifully dark.

I was 9 years old the first time I saw those skies.  We had moved to Arizona from Florida in the middle of summer, and none of us were happy.  It was HOT in Phoenix, hot like I had never imagined possible, like none of us had imagined.  So, every weekend we packed up and hit the trail – in this case the I-17N – to Flagstaff.  If you’re unfamiliar with Arizona you may not realize that in addition to dry desert hell, Arizona also provides gorgeous 7,000 – 9,000 feet pine mountains.  These cool mountain majesties are where you would drop your pin for Flagstaff, and this is where we hauled our pop-up weekend after weekend.  Continue reading →

I don’t have children, not because I don’t want them, but because that’s simply how it’s worked out.  So, now that the boys, my nephews, live less than 2 hours away, I spend as much time as I can with them.  It won’t be too long before it’s just not cool to hang with their aunt.

They were with me for four days, and it was the first time they’d come by themselves sans parents.  The first night and day flowed like melted chocolate; I couldn’t have asked for a sweeter or easier time – it was a set-up.  I awoke the second morning to what I imagine the first stirrings of the War of the Roses sounded like only over something much less glamorous than  crown and country.

Z and Auz were fighting over a DS, and as they each have their own, their argument made no sense whatsoever.  Therefore, using my highly honed powers of deduction: they were fighting merely for the sake of fighting.  Lovely.  Gotta adore the simple aggression of boy-ness.

Now, I’m new at this parenting thing, but I figured they needed an outlet for their aggression, sort of like a pressure cooker.  So,  I took them to a trampoline park where we all played dodgeball.  Together.  All of us.  Yes, I threw balls at them, too.  (Disclaimer: The balls were no harder than fluffs of lint, I swear it.) Is it  wrong that I enjoyed it so much?  After two hours I was exhausted, but they were not – nope, not even a little.  I’m hoping it’s just an age thing.  And, you know, they were still fighting.

I took them to lunch at a deli (to which I will never return – keep reading).  Z had a meltdown because the sandwich came without the crust cut off.  I very calmly remedied the situation (with the tiniest plastic knife I have ever seen provided by the surliest teenager) while explaining that there was nothing to cry about.  He dialed it back.  Then my lunch came, and it was also totally wrong.  I watched the boys watch me, closely, for my reaction.

Honestly, I, too, felt like throwing a tantrum.  I’d been with two grumpy fighting boys all day, dealt with major temper tantrums – some even from the boys, and all I wanted was my freaking sandwich to come the right way.  But there were two little faces staring at me expectantly who would notice every bit of how I responded to the girl who delivered my not-correct-lunch.  So, I smiled, and told the gum-cracking teenager (Yes, she of the teeny, tiny knife.) that the sandwich was not what I ordered and asked for the correct one to be brought.

I was very proud of my very mature behavior while the teenager rolled her eyes and walked away.  She did, however, bring me a new sandwich.  I did not even check to see if she had – uhm, defiled – my lunch in anyway.  I just ate it. Continue reading →