A Best Friend

I had a best friend as a child. His name was Bo. This was his nickname which I loved and frankly, I still do. What a wonderful southern nickname with such character. Bo was an adorable and clever boy whose impish mischievousness identically matched mine and whose mother beat him so badly with a belt that his legs would be covered with black and blue. We did all those things you read about in the cute little clips about, “I grew up in the age of no helmets, drinking water out of the hose”, etc. We also played really fun games like pretending my baby doll was dead and we were having a funeral. We especially loved humming a funeral dirge as loudly as we could while running up and down the street with my doll which really did look dead after having been dragged around the neighborhood for god knows how long. We had her on a makeshift stretcher. It seemed like a perfectly good game to play and we loved it.

In our time adult neighbors were allowed to interact with kids, including to tell them they would “jerk a knot” in them if they did such and such again, our parents did the same so we did not question authority. We had a neighbor who lived a couple of streets over and we would go knock on her door periodically to ask if she might just have any candy. I remember feeling like we  hit the mother lode when she gave us each a tootsie pop. What could have been better. Even though she had been kind and given us the candy and we smiled and thanked her grandly we hunkered together to whisper and giggle that her last name sounded like witch.

Peanut butter and jelly was a fine lunch to be made by us and dragged into the woods WITHOUT washing our hands or using hand sanitizer which hadn’t even been invented. I don’t think we got any sicker than kids today, in fact if I hadn’t grown up with two smoking parents which caused me endless allergies and ear aches, I don’t think I would have gotten sick at all. Picnics were adventures in the woods where our imaginations truly ran wild. We ran around like feral children with no adults to supervise us other than to call us in for dinner at night. We got filthy on a regular basis and when we skinned our knees we would just stay out if it wasn’t too bad. Going home might mean being asked to fold laundry or for Bo much worse.

We grew up just after Beatlemania but we were crazy about The Monkees and Herman’s Hermits, of “Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughtah” fame. Bo and I would regularly do fake British accents which must have sounded pretty bad combined with the intense Tennessee twang we had mixed in but we would giggle and I am still surprised to this day that there were some folks, adults included, who actually believed we were British. Pretend was our best playtime and Bo would don his cub scout uniform and I would come up with some get up and Bo’s older sister would play the wedding march on the little plastic organ they got for Christmas one year. We felt rather solemn about this and I was  afraid that maybe this was a little too serious, in the end it only added to the excitement of the event.

Bo had a G.I. Joe and I had a Barbie. Needless to say we joined the two and what fun we would have. I loved all the cool accessories G.I. Joe had as much as the Barbie stuff and anyway I really only had a Barbie with NO accessories. Let’s face it, G.I. Joe was a real man compared to Ken so off Barbie would happily go in the US Army Jeep. I was occasionally jealous of my other friends who had all the extras, like the houses, pink cars, clothes and the Kens but none of them had a friend like Bo with all the cool boy stuff so I was content.

When I was eleven Bo’s family moved away and I was heartbroken. There was no Internet then, no Facebook, long distance phone calls were expensive and I wasn’t much of a letter writer, though we did try really hard to stay in touch. I finally lost contact with him by about age 13. I did have the chance to reconnect finally after after almost 40 years and have had the opportunity to hear how lonely and difficult his life has been. Bo’s mother drank herself to death when he was a young teenager and his father put him out for things many parents of teens routinely deal with. Being the gifted young man he was he did get to college to study Spanish and Art but his life has been a lonely one, disconnected to his family who I don’t think really ever could connect with his free and yes unusual spirit. Fortunately he has a better memory than I do and any story I can recall he can add to with colorful details. It is wonderful to have a best friend as a child.

In the photo I am the one with the cool sailor hat with inset sunglasses, I did love that hat, and Bo is the boy in the middle next to me with his lovely impish grin, and yes we were probably drinking out of the hose!

Illegals

Are the people we share our borders with our neighbors?  Who is my neighbor? When Jesus was asked this question he told the parable of The Good Samaritan. A guy gets beat up and robbed and thrown for dead, instead of his own peeps coming to help him, his worst enemy stops by to help in the most tender and loving way. In other words your neighbor is actually the person you love to hate, you know who that is. Wait a minute though, Jesus didn’t stop there with the simple love your neighbor. He said, anyone can love their neighbor but the real man, or woman will love their enemy.

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ ⁴⁴ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ⁴⁵ that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. ⁴⁶ If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? ⁴⁷ And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? ⁴⁸ Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. Matthew 5:43-48

I absolutely can not understand for the life of me how people who call themselves Christians can have such disdain for people who risk their lives to cross the Rio Grande to look for a better life. I actually think about this a lot because I spent several months over a period of time in Central America years ago and befriended some of the most amazing, kind, hard working, loving and horrifically poor people I have ever met in my life. I have heard my own friends say things like, “those people”, “they are out to get us”, “they are taking over”, and “the Mexicans”.

I think if we call ourselves Christians we should live a Christ like existence, even if we usually fall short while trying. I do realize that people of all religions live or don’t live their beliefs in a variety of ways from extreme fundamentalism to extreme liberalism. However, I would hope that in the end all religious people would at least live a compassionate life, one of kindness and generosity. This is naive and I realize that but I will remain hopeful to the end. I understand for problems involving large countries there are no easy solutions but I also realize that as a Christian I am called to love, even to love my enemy, and I will do my best to do that and teach my children so.

Resolutions for a New Year and Teddy

I decided to speak less this year and listen more. I am making a real effort to open myself to what the universe has to say with me, through the people I meet, the animals I come in contact with and the nature I visit. I had an epiphany moment recently when I watched a short video my kids took of me visiting the neighborhood fire station. It was embarrassing, not just because I hated the way I sounded but also because I blabbered on at length. Even though I am often bursting with enthusiasm, I’m going to try and share myself by listening to others. I had a great opportunity on New Years Day to practice this new resolution when I met someone who actually speaks a lot more than I do. I just sat back listened, smiled and enjoyed what she had to say and it was fascinating really. I poked in appropriate questions to show I was really listening and interested too so we had a lovely time together. I guess time will tell if I am successful at my goal.

My Christmas present is doing well but still not fully house trained. My dog Teddy is pure love. I am so in love with this furry little dog, despite his need for much training. There is just so much to learn from our dogs. Each day is like a gift to them and they live so beautifully in the present. When Teddy wakes up and I let him out of his crate, it is Christmas, Easter and his birthday all rolled up in one. He is positively joyful, every single day. He is so happy to see me that despite his voracious appetite he will leave his food to have me pet him. He is the cuddliest animal I have ever known and his fur is luscious, beautiful blue meryl, soft and silky. When I go to pet him he first leans against me and then sort of melts on to my foot and then just gives it all up and rolls right over to his back ready for a belly rub.

Though Teddy has learned much since he came to live with us three weeks ago, he still has a way to go. He needs to learn that we are all friendly and will not hurt him, so he needn’t pee submissively. He needs to learn that when we go to pet him we are going to do just that and not strike him. How anyone could possibly throw this gorgeous animal away is beyond me but people do worse to their own children. Teddy was found tossed away in the woods with his puppy siblings, and a blind beagle. One of the pups was run over by a train and is now buried at the rescue where we adopted Teddy. Who knows what kind of treatment Teddy received before he was rescued? He was starved and covered in fleas and ticks and he is still catching up on his weight. Teddy is a work in progress but so are the rest of us and I’m going to be patient and in the meantime I’ve taken the rugs up.

Good luck to the rest of you in your goals for 2011.

 

Happy 53rd!

Dear Tony,

This is a photo tribute for your 53rd birthday. Words of love seem cheap and yet I have always appreciated that you have told me so many times with your words that you love me. I’m sorry if I haven’t said I love you enough but I do love you more than words can describe. If there is such a thing as a soul mate, you are definitely mine. You are my best friend in the world.

One of my greatest blessings is knowing that you love me exactly as I am, not as I should be. You even appreciate my quirkiness and embrace it. Thank you for that.  You have been an amazing lover, husband, father and friend to me for over twenty years and I am truly looking forward to the next 20. Here are just a few photos I picked out not in any particular order or importance, from the last five or so years. Happy Birthday!!

always serious

helping Anna set up her room

enduring the biting flies but did manage that cup of tea

Who is having more fun?

great parents make great kids

much practiced at holding babies

A Picture Worth A Thousand Words

Tonight I was searching around for the perfect photo to put as a header on my blog. I like to make seasonal changes and I like to use my own photos. It was challenging because it has to be able to fit in a very narrow frame. As I was meandering through the last 40 years in photos, and I am NOT making this up, I was struck with how blessed I am. It was sort of like watching my life go before me, only I wasn’t scared I was going to die. With the birth of each of my children I experienced a surge of love that goes beyond explaining.  Here is one of my favorite photos. For me, it captures a very special time in my life when my children were all still little and needed me. It was one of the few where I could manage to get them to wear matching outfits without them rolling their eyes. In fact, this photo was entirely before anyone had rolled theirs eyes in this house and that is exactly my point.

Gobsmacked by Susan Boyles

I can not stop thinking about this whole thing with Susan Boyles.

Have we learned anything from her? I hope so. What if Susan couldn’t sing though? What if she was just Susan Boyles same person without her special and amazing talent? Would we adore her?  We should. Why? Because she is Susan Boyles. My point and as Ellen DeGeneres says, “I do have one”, is that each and every person on this planet is unique and yes special and even wonderful.

What if Susan had a mediorcre voice, or worse, a horrible voice. She would NOT have made such a sensation. She would have been laughed off the stage or worse booed at and made fun of. When did we get so obsessed with physical characteristics, money, prestige and yes talent? When did we get so darn mean!? Don’t get me wrong, Susan’s voice brought tears to my eyes. I can’t wait to her more of her singing. I honestly can say though that if I met Susan in Scotland when I was traveling near her hometown just over two years ago, I’m sure I would have liked her, even if I had never heard her sing,  because well, she just seems like the kind of person I would enjoy sitting and chatting with over a cup of tea.

What about the average Joes and Janes though that fill this planet? I have a good feeling that if any of us took the time to hear their stories and really listen we would find a world of Susan Boyles or at least of people equally as wonderful and surprisingly talented in an amazing variety of ways. I’m really hoping my kids will take note and listen to my rambling lectures on the value of each human being on this small blue ball we call home. God bless you Susan Boyles and all the Susan Boyles who have yet to be discovered.

Michelle Obama Hugs the Queen

More on Michelle Obama… not only is she stylish, and boy it seems every time I see her on the news she is ever more stylish, but now she’s off hugging the queen. Hug away girl! This is the kind of woman we need more of. (photo from the BBC news 24)

This is not the only hugging this woman has been doing she’s been busy hugging people all over the world. More power to her. I say we all could use more hugging. In fact, hugging is downright good for us. I was looking for a link to a good article on this even though I know of the positive affects from my own scientific experiments here at home. There are just too many out there so I decided to just go right on ahead and put a link to the google search itself. In a nutshell, hugging helps release oxytosin which is a bonding hormone that helps us to feel secure and loved. It actually reduces blood pressure which can reduce the risk of heart disease. I think Michelle is on to something here. I know I don’t hug my kids nearly enough. (Save your allowance girls, you’ll need it for therapy one day!) But seriously, I wonder if Michelle was the president if she would still hug people? Do female presidents hug people, how about male presidents, they only seem to hug babies at election time. This whole hugging thing is no small matter and just another reason I’m liking her as a first lady.(photo news.sky.com)

I hate to be so shallow but isn’t that outfit striking. If I only had one once of her style… I am so amazed at how this woman puts on color. Most women run screaming from color this woman embraces it, no pun here of course. She does wear a fair amount of black also but it seems to be at the more formal events.

(photo chicago tribune)

(photo the huffingtonpost.com)

(photo www.zimbio.com)

True Love?

How do I love thee, let me count the ways?

Yesterday I had three fourths of a rant written down and it just poofed into outer space. I took that as a sign that I probably said some things I shouldn’t have. Every now and again I get annoyed at the popular culture. I had spent some quality time with a gossip magazine at the gym and was reading about the love lives of the stars and came home scratching my head and, yes, ranting to my poor family.

The line that really got me was said by Anne Heche’s spokesperson, “They’re determined to be together with as little  disruption to their families as possible.” It makes it all sound so sanitary and neat when in reality it leaves behind a trail of broken hearts, hurt and anger. I just happened to read in the Sunday paper today that people get over the death of a spouse sooner than they do a divorce?? I’m not sure about that but I’m disgusted with the trashing of real love in the world today.  Has it always been this way? I don’t think so.

Call me old fashioned, a prude, or whatever you want but I still believe in good old for better or worse. What the heck is real love anyway? It sure  isn’t just a warm fuzzy feeling, I know that. Certainly there are those incredible moments of bliss, I’ve had them too but they don’t make a long term relationship work. I believe for the most part we’ve been sold a bill of goods. How many times have you heard the old, “we’re just not in love anymore”, and this isn’t just the stars either? Who ever told these folks that they were supposed to feel “in love” for the rest of their lives?  Don’t get me wrong, I adore my husband, he is my best friend, a great lover and many other things but believe me we’ve gone through hell to get where we are and it was absolutely worth it and I would do it all over again and again.

I am so disgusted at the fawning over the beautiful people who can’t even bother to get married, who in their selfish pursuit of self fulfillment leave behind a wake of hurt.  I happened to read yesterday that Brad and Angelina posed nude for a painting to show their commitment to one another. Puleeze, how can they even talk about commitment?, what a mockery of love! I realize this is not my business but we are forced into their lives every time we check out at the grocery store. You bet my kids who have never seen them in one movie know who they are. They are models for the better or the worse. I felt sick when while being interviewed on Larry King Angelina just laughed when Larry asked her if she was going to marry Brad. I realize there are far worse people in the world and they are doing good too but it’s the disregard for love that bothers me, real love, not the feel good stuff.

I remember not long ago reading a People Magazine on the sexiest man alive. I was not impressed. All had the required six pack abs and were beautiful to look at but I just don’t find them interesting. Sexy is the man I wake up next to each day,balding, bad breath, b.o. and all. Sexy does the dishes almost every night, hugs his daughters every day and has us all as his number one priority. That is so sexy to me! There ain’t no six packs in this house except the occasional one in the fridge but there’s loads of love. Love that will be here today and tomorrow and the next day and the next.

I can not say what an amazing feeling it is to know that I am loved. No matter what I look like, baggy left over baby tummy, left over stretch marks and all. Sexy still says I’m a babe which to him I am, he really means it. I don’t have to worry about a boob job or toilet bowl teeth. This is real love. I’m so sorry for the lost souls all over looking to be just one bit more perfect and beautiful or for the ones whose “true love” left them for the newest flavor of the month. How unfortunate, how sad!

In the meantime I think I’ll stick with National Geographic. I’ll be far less likely to be inclined to go on a rant.