Rapier's Wit

This was originally written October 24, 2009. It popped up on Facebook's "On This Day" feature.  Today is Saturday and next Saturday is Halloween. I requested the day off. It wasn't really necessary since my son is 15 and no longer dresses up and sets out as a beggar for the night pleading for candy. Those days of knocking on doors and holding out your bag (in my case a pillow case) seem to be dwindling. Because of the lack of porch stomping, costumed children I make certain to buy candy we like. Left overs must be pleasing.  It's a shame that the children of today have to miss out on the random hijinx of days gone by. Maybe I'm off base and the kids from less fortunate areas are taking a charter bus to the affluent neighborhoods. I know we weren't above that. We'd convince someone's parent or, more likely an older sibling who could drive, to take us out where it was rumored that full size candy bars were being handed out. The last yea...

Oh dear me! This week has been a smack in the head emotionally. Mother's Day is often such a struggle for me. On one hand, I am ecstatic to have a son who loves and respects me. He fills me with so much pride. On the other hand, losing my own mother in 1981causes me such emotional turmoil from time to time. Not often, but when it strikes it strikes hard. The other day on Facebook I shared that my final memory of my mother was that in the hospital where she spent her last days. She was ravaged with cancer and in dire pain even with pain medication. Toward the very end I wasn't permitted to visit her. However, the time I was allowed in her room she had pushed me away after I hugged her because I was hurting her. It isn't the memory I want to hold on to, but it is there. As her last child, the youngest of eight, there's no doubt she had her reasons. My siblings have assured me, while it wasn't what I wanted, it is what our mother felt was best for me ... or her. It ...

I grew up in a middle class neighborhood. Pretty much every one in upper Riverview, Kankakee, IL had similar upbringings. Our parents worked hard. We were disciplined ... not just by our own parents, but every parent on the block. In the evenings during the summer, teens would gather on the corner under a street light to just talk, laugh, flirt, etc... A lot of hopes and dreams were revealed under that street light. Most of the families were rooted in the area. Moving wasn't even considered. That being the case, we went to school together from kindergarten through graduating high school. Some friendships were maintained during that time while others were fond acquaintances. I think there was an unspoken bond and protective knee-jerk reaction despite distanced friendship. What always existed was a kinship. After graduation, as we often do, we separate and go about building new lives. It happens. Regardless of what was sworn in our yearbook entries to each other, those promises...

Do you have a scar on your body that you can't recollect how it got there? With all the falls, scrapes, and injuries I've had in my lifetime I am surprised more scars don't exist. On one occasion when it was warm enough this summer to bask in the sunshine to get my dose of Vitamin D, I sat with my leg propped up on my knee. You know, because all the cool kids have imperfect, uneven tan lines. Anywho... While my leg was propped on my knee, I noticed this scar and fully recall how it got there. It's not like that scene from Lethal Weapon 3 where Renee Russo and Mel Gibson compare battle scars: So, this is the battle scar in question It has faded dramatically in the 37 years it has been a part of me. Any guess on how I got it? I bet no one will guess correctly.

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...

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. ...

Well ... he did it. My son graduated from high school. Through every trial and tribulation that the journey threw at him he managed to blaze his trail. No obstacle was too great for him. He persevered with tenacity that would make a lesser man crumble. Unlike his mother, my boy managed to graduate with a 3.5 grade point average. Dear old mom, me, graduated by the skin of her teeth and probably a little bit of pleading for passing grades. What I'm saying to you is that he is a far better student and person than the person who raised him. The experience is all so surreal to me. As the end of the school year approached and I started rifling through photos, certificates of accomplishment and honor, his life passed before my eyes ... my tear filled eyes. I can't recall the last time I shed so many tears. While the awards were laid out before me, I didn't fail to remember how hard he worked to achieve them. Not forgotten were the multiple IEP meetings (Individualized Educ...

There are many things in my life I have done wrong...totally screwed up and lived and learned from the mistake. However, the best thing I have ever done and continue to do is being a mom to Mancub. This month he graduates from high school. Fourteen years ago it seemed it would be the longest road. The most tumultuous, rigorous, painstaking journey has paid off. His tenacity has brought him to a major milestone. Ask me about my perfect boy and I'll go on for days telling you how amazing he is

"The Wedding Singer" presented by our community theater ( kvta.org ) came and went without so much as a blog post from me. Why? Well, I was preoccupied with work, rehearsals, social-life. Wait, what? Did you just read social-life? Indeed you did. Now, don't get too excited thinking I found me a may-un. No, no. What resulted from being in a musical production of the movie by the same name is friendships. Say that one more time. Friendship. Local. Easily accessible. Let's back up a little bit because the performances of "The Wedding Singer" deserve some attention. I had the best time performing on a stage where my high school days were spent. Additionally, my son and niece were also in the show. Our little winter production even received a review from the newspaper. That hasn't happened in a long time. See, this presentation didn't come without some controversy. The Daily Journal called us "racy but worthwhile." Yep. For this theater gr...

As the years have gone by as a single mother, my friends and family have assured me that my son will one day recognize that it is I who've provided for him.  You see, in the past Mancub, when given a writing project at school, would wax poetic about his father ... his absentee father.  Deep down it always hurt me.  I'd do my best to disguise my envy and encouraged him to be open about his feelings. On December 15, 2010 I came home after working a grueling 12 hour day.  The 15th also happened to be the day of my first safety and quality inspection with my BIG boss and her boss. Stress so intense you could slice it with a Ginsu.  In the end, that visit turned out to be amazing, but the day still seemed forever long and never ending.  All I wanted to do after that roller coaster was chillax with my son and put my feet up. It wasn't long after arriving home and shortly after hanging up my coat that Mancub handed me a folded piece of paper.  I asked, " ...

Sixteen years ago today I began experiencing contractions.  Since I wasn't due for another two weeks, I just assumed they were part of pregnancy.  With only one car in our possession, I drove my then husband to work at 6 AM. Unusual to all of my other doctor's appointments, that day was an afternoon visit. Having one car definitely created a crimp in our flexibility, but you do what you have to when financial constraints dictate your lifestyle. While waiting for the gate at my (ex) husband's employer, my breath was taken from me. Never had I experienced such a thing before. Oh, I had hiccup like contractions, but not one that lasted any significant period of time. Nor had my breathing been interrupted as a result.  Throughout the day I'd experienced a few more contractions. Nothing consistent. So, I didn't fret since I'd be seeing my ob/gyn later in the day.  It's likely I called upon my sister Maureen for advice.  Memories are kind of foggy.  Each time a...

Our household was always filled with music.  Whether it be records being played, Mom's lovely voice trickling from the kitchen or Dad blowing the harmonica or strumming his ukulele.  Song was a huge part of my childhood. Today is Father's Day and I am missing my Dad no less than I did when he passed away in 1999.  Harold Lester Rapier left behind a legacy with his ten children.  I am his youngest daughter.  We had a very special relationship. Of course my other siblings might argue that they were his favorite, but I know deep down I was the one held dearest *snort*.  He always made time to make me feel special amongst the fiery brood of children in the house.  He'd take me to his barbershop on Sundays to help him clean.  Most often I dilly dallied with a broom while he wrote to the Daily Journal's Voice of the People column.  When he had a motorcycle I'd willfully tag along no matter where he went.  He told me I was the perfect riding ...

I get geeked out on some unexpected things.  Some people get razzle dazzled over new tech devices. Others do a dance of joy over the crossword in the New York Times.  I, on the other hand, get a badoozled and dillywomped over eggnog.  Eggnoggity goodness of any variety: Ice cream, cheesecake, McDonald's Shakes.  That's what brought all of this on today.  I stopped by McDonald's to get Mancub a burger (icky, I know) and a chocolate shake.  It's a big dealio for me to get him this. So, don't call the Department of Children and Family Services on me just yet.  When I saw the words "EGG NOG SHAKES NOW AVAILABLE" I nearly piddled on my heated leather seats.  I practiced restraint and only got a small. mmmmm noggy.  I was full from my late lunch (3:30 PM) and had no desire to eat anything at 5:00 PM, but good giggly goo! I could easily sip the frosty beverage.  I was wet from the pouring rain and chilled to the bone, but with the heat cranked ...

I have received numerous additions to my photo play list. It's going to be phenomenal. I knew y'all wouldn't fail me. Some songs I have heard, but there are several that didn't ring a bell. When early in my life my dad advised me to surround myself with people who are fountains of information and more talented than I am, he was right! I've been listening to the unheard songs as they stream in either here or on Facebook. Some are catchy while others are heartbreaking. Those fit, too. Our lifetimes are filled with joy, as well as, sadness or memories of happier times. Last night friend and fellow blogger Angie Bailey recommended a song ( These Photographs ) by Joshua Radin . I was immediately hooked on his music. To be honest, whenever I saw that guy's name, I thought he was a former American Idol contestant booted early in one of the 8 seasons. Oops. There's no denying he's the prince of shmoopy and judging by the comments on his videos on you...

I've been communicating with a very dear person over the last three weeks or so. Time has slipped by quickly as we correspond. Because it has been so long since we've seen each other, and really talked, it's only natural to exchange photos. Surely it has been over 20 years. Recent photos are mostly shared because of the ease of digital cameras. Though there are a deeper lines on our faces, change in hair style (or color) and additional weight (me), one thing is remains the same. The smile and expressions that we developed early on in our lives remain evident despite the trials and tribulations we've encountered along the way. I do have to say he's even more handsome now than he was back then. I think maturity and life experiences add character to a person. Some of us don't wear our age well at all. My friend does. Though I do seem to be doing more of the sharing, I hold out hope to some day have a mailbox filled with photos of him with the kids, pets, ...

Leo (7/23-8/22) You wrote the book on loyalty -- and that applies to anyone you care about, whether they're family, friends, or someone you met on the bus who asked for your advice. You may need to exhibit that quality on the spur of the moment today, and you'll rise to the occasion beautifully. Does this mean that you'll get overly involved? Maybe, but isn't that just how you do business? All or nothing, right ? Though I typically dismiss horoscopes as frivolous bru-ha-ha, I do find this to be quite true. It's a general statement about who I am. Is every Leo this way? I don't have a clue. The other day my horoscope overview was " Reminiscing about the past is a great way to determine where to go in your future. " And I have been doing a lot of that. It's such a glorious thing to be able to share the past with someone who was there. On Sunday I went in search of one photo and ended up finding several I had all but forgotten. I've ta...

It's a rare occasion when I find myself wordless. Speechless and awe stricken? Most definitely. There are times when I find it's best to just let someone else do the talking. Or in this case, singing. One of my favorite songs by Queen. Words and music by queen Sometimes I get to feeling I was back in the old days - long ago When we were kids when we were young Thing seemed so perfect - you know The days were endless we were crazy we were young The sun was always shining - we just lived for fun Sometimes it seems like lately - I just don't know The rest of my life's been just a show Those were the days of our lives The bad things in life were so few Those days are all gone now but one thing is true When I look and I find I still love you You cant turn back the clock you cant turn back the tide Ain't that a shame I'd like to go back one time on a roller coaster ride When life was just a game No use in sitting and thinking on what you did When you can lay back and...

I've been in a mental time warp lately. It's amazing how neatly tucked away emotions bubble to the surface when a most unexpected person makes a re-entry into the present. Sure, it's only via this magical land of the Internet. For this gal, it doesn't matter. I'm delighted to have made this connection. Hopefully, current events will slip into the place of the past. I should mention that I have made an addition to the right margin list of goodies. You can now email ( wildhair65@gmail.com ) me if you're not comfortable leaving comments in the open. The blog items that I write are also fed to Facebook. So, if you're on FB you can drop me a note there, too. Consider it a one-stop shop! My present and past have managed to intermingle, as of late. With Mancub starting high school (which is where my mind has been stuck in reply), I have been trying to consider how I felt as I embarked upon a new chapter in my young life. He doesn't seem bothered or nervo...

This song has been in my head the last few days. I decided it was time to share.

Last night when I got home from work and settled in, I checked my email. Amongst the newsletters and impersonal advertisements was notification of a comment left on my blog for a post I wrote on May 1. "Sometimes I wonder... " was a primer on how I became musically involved at school. The comment I speak of was left by my one and only date from high school. He took me to the Junior Prom. I wore a pink, tea-length gown fashioned after Princess Diana's wedding dress. My sister Maureen made it for me. My date wore white tails. I wish I had a photo to share, but alas those are tucked away in a box at my sister's house. As I was saying, in the comment (you can click the post link above and see for yourself) he said he Googled me for the ... of it. And in doing so he found my blog. I have to say I was flabbergasted and flattered that he thought of me and was curious enough about me to turn to Google. I've heard through the 25th reunion grapevine that he...