Rapier's Wit

Mom at a Barbershop Choir convention My mother is no longer walking amongst in the land of the living.  At age 51, June, 1981 she left us after a battle with cancer. I miss her just as much today as I did then. Probably even more since the anger has departed and now all I have are precious memories of the woman who birthed 8 children and longed for more. However, my birth wasn't the easiest and she made me her caboose.  It's best described as ending with perfection. Smile. Today I wanted to share with you a story of eggnog.  Many people don't care for its texture or flavor. As for me, gimme, gimme, gimme! Let's not trouble ourselves the high fat and calorie content as you walk with me on the path of joyful memories. Please to enjoy, Mama's Christmas Eggnog Ever since I can remember I have loved eggnog. While passing Fannie May Candies I eyed a sign in the window advertising their new item: Cheesecake. Like Homer Simpson spying a donut I muttered, "mmmm...

Technically I'm a few days older than I was the last time I wrote on my blog.  My birthday came and went without incident.  Driver's license was renewed at the facility that time forgot.  I would swear that when the phone rang (a ring not unlike that of the avocado green colored phone that hung in our kitchen back in the '70s), the person answering would be greeted by Ernestine "One ringy dingy" the phone operator.  Lavender and ivory roses were delivered sent to me by my 'dearest'.  Attached was a beautifully written, personal message -- hint: I'm not telling you.  The rest of the day was spent with my Mancub.  His birthday gift from his dad finally arrived via Fed Ex and he was anxious to spend it. I happily obliged. Then we went out for lunch.  That brings me to the next order of business.  My diet has been absolutely dreadful for about three weeks.  Honesty is the best policy when holding oneself accountable.  Since being em...

I haven't kept it a secret that my 45th birthday is approaching.  Yes, I'm still pushing for it to be a national holiday.  Hey! Lofty dreams aren't a crime.  It's a rarity for the scenarios that happen in my noggin to occur in real life. Therefore, I know I won't awaken to find a loin clothed hotty serving me breakfast in bed nor will that be followed with a chauffeured escort to a spa where I'll receive my first ever full body massage -- happy ending optional.  Instead, my day will consist of one known detail: I have to renew my driver's license. It didn't dawn on me until last night that this is the year it expires.  How often do you look at your state ID? The only reason my peepers got a look at mine is because I took it from its hermetically sealed entrapment in my wallet.  Why? Because, now don't laugh too hard, I was going out and thought some silly ass might card me.  Shut! UP! The signs behind the bars always say if you don't look 99 ...

Family and friends gathered to celebrate My son's 16th birthday. After downloading the photos to the pc, it dawned on me that no pictures were taken of me with my son. My sister Maureen was the first to see my 9 pound 2 ounce bundle of love. So, with that in mind it seemed fitting that she'd be next to him as he blew out his candles and made a wish. For the record, I managed to sing "Happy Birthday" without falling apart and becoming a sobbing mess. Hooray for small miracles. Earlier that day we had to head out to his high school to register for his sophomore year. Weird! It conjured up memories of my own 16th birthday. I, too, was registering for school. My junior year. Unlike Mancub, after getting my student ID photo taken, my sister Mary and I drove to the Illinois equivalent of the DMV. We don't call it the DMV here. Anyway, I got my driver's license ON my sweet 16. My son is slotted to take driver's education first semester. EEP! Valium may...

Check in time came August 5, 1994 at Olympia Fields Hospital was supposed to be 6 AM via the emergency room entrance. It seemed no one was alerted to this arrangement. By 7 AM we were filling out the necessary paperwork. Between the grumbling of hunger from having not eaten since the prior evening and the nervousness of what was about to happen, my stomach was a mess. Once checked in and brought to the maternity ward around 8 AM, I was informed that the labor and delivery rooms were occupied.  Coincidentally with women from our Lamaze class. They'd elected to receive epidurals which was making their labor time longer.  I was assured that my grueling time on the thin mattress/gurney like bed wouldn't be all day. This would eventually become a bold face lie.  All the necessary IV hookups were made.  The waiting began.  It didn't take too long for me to see Pitocin aided contractions registering on the monitor.  Nothing major.  I figured this would be...

Every time a birthday approaches -- my own -- I tend to paint a mental picture of how grandiose it will pan out.  As it unfolds, reality doesn't meet the fantasy hopes and dreams. But I manage to turn a year older and deal with the fact that for most people, a birthday is just another day of the year.  Expecting other people to treat my birthday like a national holiday is utter nonsense and it is up to me to make it spectacular even if I am the only one attending the party. What better ensemble to celebrate, not only the anniversary of my birth (I'll be 45 this August), but also the mid transformation of my body than with an exquisite red dress ! I've never owned a red dress other than my junior year, polyester show choir dress.  At least I know red is a color that suits me. When I was younger my modesty stood in the way.  I thought red was an ostentatious hue. As I aged my weight was my excuse. Mislead, I believed such a brilliant tone would make me look bigger. N...

Whether or not you want your birthday acknowledged, it still comes around year after year.  Even after people pass away we tend to celebrate the birth of the loved one.  For me, what it all boils down to is giving thanks that someone I care about was put on this earth and is part of my life.  At work, I buy birthday cards for every employee and pass it around for others to sign.  It's not much, but at least their day isn't overlooked.  One of my co-workers humorously proclaimed herself a BIRTHZILLA.  She celebrates her birthday weeks before and after the actual date.  While I teased her greatly for it, I think to a certain level it is up to us to make sure the world knows we're here another year and the anniversary of our first slap on the ass needs to be glorified.  June 10th marks a very special birth.  The person who will turn 45 has become one of the dearest people in my life.  He's not a newcomer but his re-entry into my realm ha...