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Showing posts from June, 2013

Brave: An Independent woman's tale

Dear Pixar: As always, I am behind on watching movies. Ever since my son hit puberty we aren't as prone to racing to the theater to see your movies. He's into fart humor flicks and action/adventures. So, this morning I was flipping through the 100s of channels offered up and stumbled upon your film BRAVE .  Since I had not seen it and nothing else piqued my interest, I opted to view. First off, let me applaud the design of the wild haired Merida. It's clear in the very beginning she is not the usual 'live in a shiny castle upon the hill' sort of princess. Secondly, it was refreshing that none of the first born males of the other clans were strapping, handsome warrior sorts with the heart of gold. You almost always throw some stud in the mix that the wild eyed princess fawns over completely losing sight of her identity. Again, thank you. Thirdly, encouragement from the father to remain independent reminds me a lot of my own relationship with my dad. My mom,

Get moving

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Blah blah blah a couple years ago I lost 40 pounds. Injury to the left knee incapacitated me beyond doing more than standing and walking. Then, the icky wound on the left leg. That is all it took for this food addicted, exercise loathing girl to revert back to the habits that would put all that weight back on. Yes, I am pissed at myself, but that mindset isn't going to help me one bit. All that can be done now is to pass 'get out of jail' and move on. I feel like shit and have accepted it. Now, let's get this big ol' ass on the road to recovery. In this instance I compare it to someone falling off the wagon with alcohol or heroin. Checking into rehab isn't feasible. So, that means I am my clinician and therapist along with the help of friends who've successfully lost weight. What's ironic is that a couple of those friends were inspired by my weight loss commitment to do the same for themselves ... and here we are. I thought the quickly approachi

Suddenly, Last Summer

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If you've been stalk following me for more than a year, then you know I had some issues with my left leg. Wait, did I blog about that horrible experience or did I manage to keep it to myself? I keep very little about my life to myself. What I mean is that I may have only reported the ugliness on Facebook. OK. In March of 2012 a funky bump appeared on my lower left leg. I, being stupid, picked at it. Despite bandaging, treating it with triple antibiotic cream etc... the damned thing would not heal. After 2 months of that nonsense I sought out WebMd. (You thought I was going to say medical treatment, didn't you?) There was a myriad of possibilities and I treated the wound accordingly. From soaking it with apple cider vinegar to coating it with hydrogen peroxide, it only got worse. Surprise! Hey, I wanted a homeopathic remedy. In the long run it was foolish. Don't you dare wag your finger at me. When our vacation to California was quickly approaching, I made haste, fina

You can lead a duck to water ...

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Sunday, Father's Day, Mancub and I were returning home in the late afternoon. When making the turn for our block, I noticed a lone duckling quickly waddling from the church parking area making its way to the street. STOP! Look! A duckie! I put the car in park and grabbed the phone to take this photo. See the little feathered friend in the gravel? Mancub hopped out of the car -- no one was coming from either direction -- because the duck vanished and we feared he'd gone under the car. Alas, he'd diverted to the front. Poor thing had to be bewildered. Mancub safely escorted the duck across the street to prevent an oncoming car from hitting it. At that point I had exited the car to take another photo. Why did the duckling cross the road? He's center just within the shaded area. Shortly after the above photo was taken the duckling took cover in the bushes at the neighbor's house. Mancub dashed in the house to use the bathroom while I kept watch. Oh, I h

Pops, dad, papa, daddio

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The approach of Father's Day always gets me thinking. For one, it makes me miss my own father very much (he died in '99). That was the same year I went through my divorce. We were 800 miles away from the nearest family and I had to go through it without my rock, my father. You can tell me he was and always has been with me in spirit but those are just empty words when all one truly needs is to have the presence in human form of the embodiment of unconditional love. He wasn't a man of many words despite his articles in The Kankakee Journal's Voice of the People and other various publications. When it came to his kids, his thoughts were many, but his words profound and few. Our relationship hadn't always been ideal. As a little girl, I was undoubtedly his baby. The last born of the brood he had with my mother, he seemed determined to do right by me. We had a special bond. Then, when my mother passed away in '81, it was quickly severed and we hit years of rough

Gray matter

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It's on my head. The gray matter. Not surprising to some of you who know me. No, not my brain or manner of thinking. Although, there are days I wonder how I manage to get my underpants on without falling over. Anywho ... In July of 2012 I decided that coloring my hair every four weeks to hide the silver roots sprouting forth was far too much. Hated it! Loathed the cost even more and that was with box color. L'Oreal 'cos I'm worth it and all that jazz. My dearest friend had taken me to a Chicago salon for color correction because box color and my lack of knowledge really botched up the roots. Those bright red roots were not intentional During the voodoo this adorable young man had to perform to bring me to a more natural state, he insisted that I never do box color again! I promised. The salon maintenance does not agree with my meager pay. What's a poor single mama to do? Go natural. After months of explaining that I wasn't failing in touching up my roo

Weather or not

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No, that is not me misspelling a word in the title. It's a play on the phrase. Sheesh. The weather has been less than agreeable given that it is late Spring. Today, it was a brisk 53 〫 at a local arts festival. Celebrate strawberries and jazz. At least it is referred to as the Strawberry Jazz Festival. In rebellion against the weather as it was, I wore what would normally be appropriate for this time of year when the temperatures are usually in the upper 80s and sunshine would be baking my shoulders: A sundress and flip flops. My fingers and toes went numb, but damn it! I proved a point to Mother Nature while looking like a fool in comparison to those dressed for the cloudy, chilly weather. Bah. Who cares. I don't embrace fitting in anyway. There were many art and food vendors. We went specifically for the live entertainment. I should mention this is the first outing the boy has made since graduating. Oy. Even with the cloud cover I hope we got a good dose of Vitamin D.