Procrastinate

I love words. Love, love, love words. I love their roots, their meanings, derivatives of words and mostly their potential for creating images filled with emotion.

Today, I accomplished a job that I have been putting off for 2 weeks.  I procrastinated! I am a procrastinator...in fact, I am a PROcrastinator.

Yeah, there is a little shame involved but, let's be honest! I am an accomplished procrastinator. You wouldn't believe how many extraordinary things I have churned out in a frenzied last minute.

Does that make me the Consummate PROcrastinator? Should I make a sweatshirt announcing my propensity for last minute pushes! Will anyone believe it is not laziness but pure anxiety that the final product won't be perfection?

Flipping the pages of my etymology dictionary to the P's, we find that 'procrastinate' was introduced to polite society circa 1540 from the French root "procrastine".  History tells us that around  1580 the speakers of latin begin using "procrastinatus" which is an active present tense verb of defering, delaying.  Evolving into the past participle "Procrastinare" meaning one has already  "deferred, delayed, put off till tomorrow."

It is amusing that procrastinatus is defined as an active verb of defering and delaying, almost as if the procrastinator is a goalie in a soccer game defending the goal of being reached rather than sitting in the garden, peeling grapes while reading about Jason and the Argonauts latest adventure!

If man has been on earth for thousands of years, was there a sudden surge of laziness in the 1500's?  Was the human race sufficiently efficient until the Little Ice Age of the Middle Ages? Did the cold inspire Middles Agers to sit by the fire instead of harvest, or plant or bake the bread?

The noun defining "one who defers, delays and puts off," is (momentary hesitation to build suspense) Procrastinator! That word did not rise until 1600. Sixty years from verb to noun! Now that is some heavy duty delaying and deferring!

My little exercise of deferring the project at hand for two weeks is nothing in comparison!

(Hanging my head in shame!) Damn, I am not the Consummate Procrastinator.

I can only repeat the wise words of Horace, "Vitanda est improba siren desidia!" One must avoid that wicked temptress, Laziness!

Our friend, Horace, might have had some impulse control issues, for another saying he is famous for is "Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero" more or less directly translated means "Seize the day, putting little or no trust in tomorrow!" My personal take on that is "Drink your wine today because there might not be a tomorrow!"



 Carpe Diem is my anthem! I may at any time be deferring the completion of a project but it doesn't mean that I am sitting in a dark corner sucking on my thumb. I am dancing! I am swimming. I am seizing the day and living like I mean it.

As for the delayed projects; they are brewing in the Nec Temere, Nec Timide file. "Not rashly, not  timidly!" If it's good enough for the Royal Danish Naval Academy, it is good enough for me!

The Realm of Infinite Possibilities

 "Go beyond the impossible and kick reason to the curb!"

Bill is one of the characters that makes up my personality! His part of me is exceedingly irreverant! Not out of disrespect or disdain. It's just that life, real life, reminds him/me of movies, books, plays or even "real life" events. 

You see, not only am I highly intuitive but I have the gift/curse of being empathic and suffer from PTSD. We use Bill's  quotes to lesson the blows we often feel when in the midst of sharing someone's pain or distress. We use the quotes to distill another's anger or hate. Bill is our safe-guard from being swept away with emotions, our own and not our own, it is often hard to distinguish the difference.

I have a flyer to create today. The flyer is a single side of an 8 x 11 sheet of paper. The aim is to edit a 7 page proposal, not counting the bibliography, down to a single sheet, without losing the message.  We will be offering a class of contemplation, a class designed to help people see the divine in the mundane, to witness the holy in every day events.

The flyer consumed every moment of this morning. Sitting with my feet in the pool, sipping tea, the crew and I discussed what to cut, what to include.  Chopping up the veggies and fruit for our juice, we discussed chopping 'this' paragraph or 'that' sentence.  Even while showering, we saw meaningful sections trailing away, down the drain, anonymous runoff to be lost in some murky water, somewhere.

Group Consensus: Creating the flyer is going to be an unreasonable and impossible task.

Sitting at my desk, I fired up the computer. Opened Word. Opened the original proposal document! Clicked on File drop down menu, then a click on 'New'; 'Blank Document'; 'Create'.

Ta Da! A barren blank white page.

"This is impossible!" I thought. The impossibility of the task echoed in my head, each member of the crew agreed. Each aspect of my personality saw the futility of accomplishing the goal and getting it to Fr. Jonathan by the end of the day.

When the echoes subsided, Bill's voice rang strong and clear.  "Go beyond the impossible and kick reason to the curb!"

Who knew Bill even knew what Anime was, let alone to quote Kamina!

"Go beyond the impossible...." Instantly we are transported to a small dark room. Sinuous drapes of gossamer silk seperate, revealing a cavernous room of possibilities.  Reason stands guard, hands on hips, legs apart, feet planted solidly in our path.

BabaMara threatens in a rich, loving voice, "Mr. Reason, How would you like to be a  pink centipede with 50 pairs of teensy-weensy roller skates on your teensy-weensy feet?"

Reason swiftly turns and runs to the curb! BabaMara has a real kick to her!

We glide into the realm of  infinite possibilities, a space just beyond the silken curtains of the impossible.

We can do this. This flyer is going to rock. Thank you, Bill, you are our hero!

"Great heroes need great sorrows and burdens, or half their greatness goes unnoticed. It is all part of the fairy tale!"

Yes, The Last Unicorn is one of Bill's favorites.

"The secret of being a hero lies in knowing the order of things. The swineherd cannot already be wed to the princess when he embarks on his adventures, nor can the boy knock on the witch's door when she is already away on vacation. The wicked uncle cannot be found our and foiled before he does something wicked...."

Okay, Bill, we get it!

"...Things must happen when it is time for them to happen. Quests may not simply be abandoned; prophecies may not be left to rot like unpicked fruit...."

Bill, we need to get to work!

"...unicorns may go unrescued for a very long time, but not forever. The happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story."

Bill, heroes fit in jelly jars, too, you know! I love the BabaMara part of me!

Bill nods, "Never run from anything immortal! It attracts their attention!"

Hippie Thoughts

When I was 16 my father drove two of my friends who were visiting from Colorado and me to San Francisco.

We made stops at the Golden Gate Bridge, Fisherman's Wharf, Ghiardelli Square, and China Town.

We ate at an awesome steakhouse where historical pictures of old San Francisco adorned the walls.

I remember very little of any of that. What has embedded itself into my memories in minute detail is our drive through Haight-Ashbury and the Golden Gate Park.

The Haight was alive with energy, color and street musicians. Women were wearing gypsy skirts, bright peasant blouses, obviously bra-free! Shocking in the mid-60's. Many men sported tie-dyed shirts.

A debate raged in our car about some of the clothing. We girls thought some of the guys were dressed like Robin Hood; my dad insisted they more closely resembled Peter Pan!

One young guy in tights and long tunic with fringe down the sleeves passed very close to the car on the driver's side! He reached into his rainbow satchel and sprinkled glitter on our car, yelling "Love Dust! Make Love, Not War!"

We giggled in the backseat. Dad told us to roll up the windows!

The streets were full of chaos, people headed in every direction. A big part of me wanted to jump out of the car and join them; another part of me was relieved that I was sitting in the middle of the back seat!

The Haight was in it's full glory.  Young people tired of wars, tired of  bigotry and exploitation gathered from all over the world. Drug dealers and pimps inundated the district, taking advantage of the naive and innocent; using the passive philosophy against itself.  For years it became a place to avoid at all cost. To go in was to take the chance of disappearing, sometimes forever!

We have an expression, "I got stoned and I missed it!"

I often wonder, if the passionate activists had stayed "on task"; had kept focused on the message, what kind of world would we live in today?

Mandalas

My Mandala Blog

My summer can only be described as "crazy!"

I know, coming from me, that doesn't mean a whole lot, does it?  Attempting time management has been insane. We have had births and weddings which means showers and parties. Several road trips, company, babysitting for two gorgeous 150 pound blue-nose pit bull pups, proposals to be written and presented, elbow deep in clay, a couple of commissioned pieces, building the stock of wall rosaries and now I have been asked to paint a friend's pool house using tromp l'oiel. 

Several people have asked me for mandalas. I so want to create them, but a meaningful mandala means interviewing the person, doing the numerology, then the making of it. It takes a a lot of time to get it right.

If I could break up the crew and send them out to do the interviewing, it would really help! Or would it?

One of the friends who wants a mandala is an artist who creates wonderful pottery Goddesses and Fairies and Dragons.  Could I send Carrie-Anne to interview her? Would she ask the artist about her dreams and goals, her preferences for starry, starry nights or misty dawns? Or would Carrie-Anne fill the time inquiring about glazing techniques and kiln temperatures?

If I send BabaMara, would she just share her own stories of the Goddesses, Dragons and Fairies she has known and often traveled with.

An acquaintance who is jonesing for her own mandala is a tri-athlete. Interviews have to be conducted during stretches because that is the only time she is in one place long enough to talk. I can't conduct an interview while swimming or biking. I absolutely don't run. The only one of us who might be able to keep up with her physically is Bill (maybe). I'm not sure he wouldn't spend most of his time quoting Neil Armstrong, "I believe that every human has a finite amount of heartbeats. I don't intend to waste any of mine running around doing exercises!" or Nora Roberts, "squats are a form of torture designed by people who don't need to do squats in the first place."

Mrs. Richardson would be of no good, she would only balance their checkbooks or do their taxes. Ms. Machado is still reading Exodus Lost and is refusing to budge until the last page has been turned.
Beatrice is napping, still, and frankly, the longer she naps, the better off the world is!

I have a dilemma and the only way I know to solve it is to take a nap. Someone wake me at 10!

Swimming

Monday morning and it is already hot. I'm trying to convince the team ( I use the word loosely) to go for a morning swim.

Sinthya and BabaMara are all in, Carrie-Anne is jonesing to get back to the studio and clay, Mrs. Richardson is demanding that Monday's are for getting things accomplished, Ms. Machado is reading Exodus Lost and is absolutely refusing to be disturbed.

Bill is not interested in sitting in the heat while we enjoy the water. He doesn't get in because moisture is not good for his Marlboro hardback. He keeps it rolled up in his t-shirt sleeve and refuses to be seen without it...his image, you know! He says since the new neighbors cut all their trees down, destroying the privacy of our backyard, swimming is no longer fun! I believe he is referring to the wearing of swimsuits is required now, before we just stripped at poolside and dove in.

Have I told you that we don't like the new neighbors?  Chopped down the trees, mangled our hedge and massacred theirs and now, hammering starts at 6 or 6:30 every morning, especially Saturday and Sunday and continues until 10:300 p.m. They can stand in their windows (split level floorplan) and see everything in our pool.

I'm considering swimming in the nude just to scare the crap out of them!

Beatrice is still sleeping, which, to be honest is always a good thing. This morning, though, I am thinking that a grand cannon ball off the diving board would do her some good!

Sorry, Ms. Machado and Bill, the votes are in and swimming it is!

Google That!

Do you ever have days when your eyes are brimming with tears, your shoulders are hunched with an unknown weight and your knuckles drag on the hard ground wherever you dare to walk?

That's the day I am having. The crew has abandoned me with Beatrice and she has commented several times this morning, what a downer I am being.

Did you ever see You've Got Mail with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks? Meg Ryan plays a woman who, for a short period in the movie, is with a man who brings out the worst in her.  She can't help herself but be mean when she is with him, even though her character is a sweet, contemplative woman. Not that she doesn't have reason for being hurt or angry.

It's hard being in the company of someone you love and you are your very worst in their company. When someone inspires your deepest darkest self to reveal itself, what do you do? Like Meg Ryan in the movie, we have the right to be hurt or angry, but we don't have the right to pull others into the muck with us.

I am contemplating a trip. A long trip. Maybe I can house-sit for someone in the mountains, maybe I can take my tent and sleeping bag and stay under the stars for a little while...at least until I get nice again.

Crew come back...Beatrice is out of control!

Happily Ever After

Elbows deep in clay today. Lots of the mud under my fingernails! I love, love, love playing in dirt!

As I was rolling out a slab of clay, I thought about the princesses and fairy tales I grew up with.

Most  of the princesses were in pretty miserable states at the time of the rescues. Miraculously, some cowboy in tights trots in with sword swinging and carries the distressed damsel away.  

The blissful couples trot down a trail to happily ever after with heart shaped clouds and cheesy smiles on their horses' faces. The End. Roll Credits!

But,

Snow White had a pretty charmed life. Pretty dress,, birds and animals following her every command, room with a view.  When some other woman messes it  up for her she relocates to the forest where she meets seven delightful souls. She fixes them up with a little assistance from the forest animals. The nasty old woman stalks her and screws it up again. Obviously, Snow's mother and father never taught her that taking food from unlicensed street vendors was a bad idea!  If it hadn't been for the old biddy and her apple, Snow White really wouldn't have any need for Prince Charming.  She was doing a pretty good job of it herself. Seven men, animals to do the housework and a cottage in a forest. Hell, I should be so lucky!

Nice view, some good friends! Looks happy to me.

Briar Rose lived in a forest with 3 nanny-fairies, talked to animals, picked organic fruit off the trees and probably ingested a mushroom or two. I mean, who dances with birds and bunnies in cape and boots?  Some "prick" comes along and messes it all up and totally trashes the landscaping. Those dang spinning wheels! She had been pretty happy in the forest dancing with the wildlife until the King and Queen called her back to marry Phillip. 

Now this is what I call HAPPY!

Cinderella? Now her life was messed up! Her step-mom and step-sisters sucked big time.  She spent her days scrubbing chimneys and her bedroom was infested with rodents. She had a fairy-godmother who comes by and gives her a nice dress, slippers and a cool set of wheels. Why didn't she wish for a little cottage on the beach or a ticket to Cabo?  Talk about messed up, that fairy-godmother had some  priority issues!  Along comes some Prince with a foot fetish. He likes her tiny little feet and off they go to Happily-Ever-After-Land!

Hello!  Call your Godmother and ask her to turn evil step-mom into a toad!

In spite of all the tales of chicks who supposedly wait around to be rescued for Happyville, I think most of the women I know/knew don't/didn't spend a lot of time queuing up behind the "Happy Starts Here: Please Wait Behind The Line" sign.

I asked the crew if they ever waited around for someone to make them happy.

All but Beatrice said happiness starts with the self, everything else is just topping!

Beatrice's response? "Define Happy?"

The Freedom To Speak Your Mind

A short 4 years ago, my friend commented about my birthday. Actually, it was my next birthday she was talking about.

"Just think! You are going to be 60 next year!"

Bam! Talk about slamming into a brick wall! Me? Sixty? Never! How could it be?

I loved turning 40. The 40's were incredibly freeing in so many ways.

Fifties came and I celebrated the whole decade! After all, as Oprah says, "50 is the new 40!"

It honestly never occurred to me that 60 came after the 50's.  Couldn't I just be Fifty-ten,  then 50-11? You have to admit,  50-12 has a certain ring to it!

The last six months of my 59th year made me feel like I was on combat mission, belly on the ground, soldier crawling towards enemy lines. Pausing to dig a fox hole now and then, trying to stop time, but that big 60 kept pulling me.

What an incredible waste of 6 months! Sixties are better than the 40's and the 50's (except for the knee pain which was probably caused by creeping around on my elbows and belly for half a year).

There are so many glorious benefits to being 60-ish.

My favorite benefit of all is the freedom to speak my mind!  Not that I make comments like, "That is the most ignorant thing I've ever heard!" or "You're a special kind of stupid, aren't you?"

I do have filters, but having retired, I don't have to agree with an abusive boss! I don't have to write letters and memos that make her look kind or thoughtful. I don't have to agree with everyone sitting around the table at dinner. My heart isn't crushed if someone walks away from me when I've spoken my truth.

The next favorite benefit is that I can make a stand! If I stand alone, that's okay because I am standing up for what I believe. I can live in my own integrity!

Another favorite perk is rising out of bed at 4 a.m. to read or write or simply sip a cup of green tea and ginger.  The stripping out of my clothes and jumping back into bed around 9 or 10. Other mornings I head to the shower, brush my teeth and get out my softest, most comfy pajamas and spend the day in them.  If someone knocks at the door, I greet them completely guilt free. No shame! They can judge me all they want. I know that deep down in their souls, they wish they were in their jammies, too!

Let's see!  (tapping my make-up free chin while in deep contemplation) There are so many special boons, it is hard to choose the next favorites.

There is the make-up thing. I can get around with absolutely no make-up, if I choose. There is a natural aliveness about aging skin, the lines around the eyes that shout, "I have laughed and I have lived!"   Without foundation one can see the scar on my left temple from the spoon that stuck in my head when my brother shot sweet peas at me when we were kids. (I can write really long, run-on sentences like the previous one and people just accept it " 'cuz, bless her heart, she's old!")  Without makup I can't disguise the bump in my not-so-perfect nose. I am really proud of it; reminds me of playing street football with the boys (I was always first picked for teams. Yes, I was that good!)

Benefit Boon Blessing of being in my sixties; I can have sex as much as I want without the fear of pregnancy! (Beat that all you 30-somethings in your 5 inch spiked heels!) I can have sex where ever I want because if caught I can blame it on dementia!

Let's not forget clothing!  In your 60's you can wear whatever you want! I can wear white to weddings because I are not going to upstage the bride. I can wear skirts to work in the garden and jeans to church. I can dress to the nines to go to the drive-thru at In and Out! I can sport torn jeans and my Doobie Brothers sweatshirt to Outback.

Being in your sixties and a little bit silly appeals to all your nieces and nephews. Your nieces think you're cute and your nephews will refill your gin and tonic without any prompts!  They put extra green olives and gin in them too!

If the sixties are this good, what secrets and whimsical treats must the 70's be hiding? Seven more years and I get to unwrap that package. I won't be holding my breath though, because there are so many delicious discoveries about being in my sixties still to be made.

Discussion At Dawn

Art courtesy of diviantart.com

A writer's club I belong to did a little exercise a couple of years ago. We were to imagine being able to go back in time to visit our self at age 20. It seemed pretty straightforward and easy-peasy but after a little contemplation, I really thought hard about what I would tell myself at 10, 16 and 20.  I've also wondered what the 20-years-older-than-me would say to me today if she showed up at the front door.

Sitting by the pool early this morning, my feet in the water and a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, I wondered what the members of the crew would say to their past selves. It occurred to me that a couple of them might not have been around when I was 20, so I asked them!

1. Would your 20 year old self recognize you when you first meet?

BabaMara:  "Of course I would, Honey. I am as old as the wind and the wind always recognizes itself. "

Mrs. Richardson: "You can be sure I would be too busy doing something constructive rather than sitting around looking for irresponsible adults from the future! Can we at least go to the laundry room so that I can organize the shelves while you conduct this nonsense!"

Bill: "Yes'm, old friends is always best, 'less you can catch a new one that's fit to make an old one out of." (Sarah Orn Jewet)

Ms. Machado: "Yes."

Beatrice: "Keep the ruckus down. Some of us are trying to sleep here!"

Carlie-Anne: "This sunrise reflecting on the water would be so wonderful to paint. Look at that sky! It is glorious, simply glorious.....What?.....Oh, uh, would my younger self recognize me? Yeah, maybe, probably."

Sinthya: "I will tell only if we drop the blanket and let us slip into the water for a morning swim. That's it, now toss off this silly t-shirt!  Feel the water caress your shoulders?"

We lost Sinthya in the sensuousness of warm water in the coolness of dawn.


2. Would your younger self be surprised to discover what type of work you are doing or did?

BabaMara:  "Magic is magic, my dear. I surprise myself everyday at what I am doing or can do but that I am magic does not surprise me nor would it surprise a younger me."

Mrs. Richardson: "Of course not! I have always been and will always be efficient. She would just be shocked that I teamed up with such an irresponsible, disorganized bunch of misfits! Where would you all be if it wasn't for me?"

Bill:  "I know you can get the job, but can you do the job?" (Joe vs The Volcano)

Ms. Machado:  "I was born to teach! I will always teach. What good is knowledge if it isn't shared?"

"Exactly what I think about magic!" interjected BabaMara!

Beatrice:  Loud snoring from her corner! She must have stayed under the blanket when we slipped into the pool.

Carlie-Anne: I think I would be surprised that I picked up my paints and brushes again, in fact, I am still surprised today. We still remember the critical censure of our little house with the picket fence and yellow curtains.

"What about you Sinthya? Would your younger self be surprised about what kind of work you did?

Sinthya: "Si."  Doing the backstroke!

"Would you like to elaborate?"

Sinthya: "No!"


3. What piece of fashion advice would you give your younger self?

BabaMara: "Keep it loose and flowing. We look good in blues and purples.  Large pockets; always have large pockets;  one never knows when one might find something magical that wants to come home with you. Skirts should be full for elves and brownies might need to travel with you through crowded places."

Mrs. Richardson: "Hand wash silk blouses. Never wash a linen skirt; dry clean only. Do not purchase anything that is 100% cotton, you will spend more time ironing the garment than wearing it. Always keep safety pins in your purse for the days the elastic in your panties gives out. Never wear white shoes, even after Easter, they make your feet look big...."

Bill:  "Marlboro Hardpack. Softpacks crumble...not cool!"

Ms. Machado: "Invest in pencil skirts and sweater sets, they never go out of style. Never more than a 2" heel. Keep make-up light and natural. Always have emergency feminine products in your purse."

Beatrice:  zzzZZZzzzZZZzzzZZZ

Carrie~Anne: "Wash out the paint  in your clothes before it sets. Shoes, bras and panties are optional."

Sinthya: "I shall take her shopping! Fashion is not to talk about but to experience!"


4.  What do you think your younger self is going to want to know?
 
BabaMara: "Always have a couple of large pickle jars sitting on the shelf.. Bullies will fit in jelly jars but there needs to be space for their nastiness. Remember to put holes in the lids for air but make sure the holes are tiny so the nasty doesn't leak. When you meet the man with the tall black boots, white open shirt and bronze tan, go to the forest with him. He will teach you many things. Plant the orchard. Don't plant the herbs low where the dog can pee on them. Listen to your dreams."

photo courtesy of www.inspiredgiftgiving.com

Mrs. Richardson: "When the big blue bus full of misfits stops on the corner of Morse Street and Newhall, DO NOT BOARD IT! Wait for the Downtown bus!  Always carry an eraser, a pencil and a pen and an extra battery for your watch. Check under your car and the back seat before getting in.  Don't ever, ever, ever let Carrie-Anne drive."


Bill:  "When an argument is over, you will always think of more clever shit to say."

 Ms. Machado: "Read everything you get your hands on. If it's good, read it again and again. Never lose your patience with someone who is trying. To be true to yourself you will have to get used to not being liked by some and that's okay."

Beatrice: zzzZZZZzzzzZZZZzzzZZZ

Carrie-Anne:  "You CAN BE your own boss. You CAN BE your own boss. You CAN BE your own boss. You CAN BE your own boss."

Sinthya:  "Feel! Smell! See! Dance! Sing! Make love! Dance some more! Taste! Listen! Live like you mean it!"


5. What is something that you wouldn't tell your younger self? 

BabaMara:  "There is nothing I wouldn't tell my younger self if she asks, though I might leave bits and pieces of it to find out on her own!"

Mrs. Richardson: "Honesty is the best policy."

Bill: "Hey, Mrs. R,  I was going to say that! No, I wasn't, I lied!  Ask away, Young Bill, let's find out what I wouldn't tell you!"

Ms. Machado:  "I wouldn't tell her 2 + 2 = 5! I wouldn't tell her always i before e. I wouldn't tell her that using correct grammar is unimportant. I wouldn't ever tell her that the movie will be better than the book!"

Beatrice: "Jesus!, Really, people? Could you be any louder?"

Carrie-Anne:  "Can I do that? Can I choose not to tell her something?"

Sinthya:   "Ah, I would not ruin for her the week in Barcelona with Alejandro; that she will have to experience on her own."

And with that comment, steam rises from the pool! We are going to have to ask her to tell us about Barcelona!



6. What do you think would surprise your younger self about you?

BabaMara:  "Certainly not dancing sky clad in the moonlight! Let me think...."

Mrs. Richardson:  "Nothing. We do not like surprises!"

Bill: "Well, he would certainly be surprised that I live with 7 women and I play with our breasts in the shower!....What? Is that too much?"

Ms. Machado:  "I haven't been in a Bookmobile in years and years. I lived for Thursdays when the Bookmobile would park under our cherry trees and I could choose from so many books!"

Beatrice:  "To be honest, the younger Beatrice was quiet, gentle, naive! Well, we ain't no more and that's the way we like it!"

Carrie-Anne:  "I can stand up for myself....sometimes!"

Sinthya: "Everything and Nothing! We have always been alive! We have always danced instead of sit. We sing instead of mope. We fly instead of walk."

BabaMara: "After giving it much thought, my younger self would be surprised that I don't turn men that talk to my chest, rather than my face, into toads. I used to do that a lot when I was younger!"

Finally,  #7. When did you join me on this crazy ride called life?

BabaMara: "For the record, I have been with you many life times and will accompany you in many more."

Mrs. Richardson:  "I saw you sitting in the window of a big blue bus and you looked perplexed! Thinking I might be of some assistance, I boarded the bus. Heaven help me. Little did I know that all of you were on board. Of course, that explains the look of confusion on your face as you stared out the window.

Bill: "We met the day Mr. Hall told you how to get your tongue unstuck from the gap in your teeth!  I heard your laugh and knew we were made for each other!"

Ms. Machado: Sixth grade. You were sitting at the second desk next to the window. Floating above your head was a pretty purple sign with a unicorn on it. It read:

Wanted

Life-Long-Learning Companion

 I applied and got the job!"

Beatrice: "I didn't join, I evolved! Believe me, I am not here to stay. You are all bat-shit crazy!"

Carrie-Anne: "Don't you remember? God sent me with your first pack of crayons. Sorry I broke the yellow but it was a tight fit in that little green box."

Sinthya: "Mi querido amiga, tell me please you haven't forgotten! It was amazing. I will find the journal entry.  We will read it together and, ole', you will remember the day we met with all of your heart and soul."


There you have it! Is it any wonder that I am such a hot-mess at times?  Thankfully, they are all integrated into my personality. Typically, the only problem they cause is Bill's irrelevance at inappropriate times and my inability not to respond with a smile. If Mrs. Richardson and Beatrice were in control, we would have much more control. Alas, BabaMara, Ms. Machado, Sinthya and I have way too much power in this little group! As Sinthya says, We "live like we mean it!"

 What about you? What age would you like to visit a younger you? What would you share?

Veni ~ Vidi ~ Voodoo

If you read "It Just Ain't Right" you are aware of the new neighbors attacking our tall, thick hedge between the two yards. We kept the hedge trimmed but thick and high for privacy. We came home to find it pruned back by at least 70 or 80%.

Today I mixed white paint and water 50/50 and coated the newly exposed branches and stems. Also poured a mixture of water and Vit B at their base to help with shock.

While talking to the traumatized bushes I realized that all but two of the cuts were done completely flat! Flat as a corn tortilla! Only two cuts were done on an angle!  Not one cut was done near a branch collar but smack dab in the middle of a long branch.

Ask me how much I like the new people next door? And if I tell you how much I like them, please don't tell Pope Francis!

Each of the cuts will need to be redone to prevent disease and fungus but we'll wait until fall when the plants are dormant to make the necessary cuts.

In the meantime, I am considering taking a quick trip to Barnes and Noble and picking up a Pruning for Idiots guide as a house warming gift!.


Some people should not be allowed to walk around with sharp objects...which is why I will put these hat pins away so no one gets hurt. Oh, look. There are a couple of cloth dolls. That would be a safe place for these dangerous sharp objects.

Hmm, those dolls look familiar!

Bill's quote of the day!