Flaming June's Love

Friday night I am hosting my book club.  I have been cooking and prepping for a week.  Firstly because we had snow and cooking has always been the thing to do while it snows.  Then compound with a crew of ladies coming to discuss a book at my house offers up to be a full blown exciting stress fest.  Yet still top notch cool.  This picture is the full container of blueberries for my blueberry buckle for book club.  on my dirty floor. I swept them all up and threw them out with my new broom.  The broom is a Christmas gift from Allie since my previous broom looked like 1972.  It is actually 2010.  which is still pretty old.  I missed two blueberries and apparently stepped on them which has now left a blue stain on the hardwood floor.  Not forever I would assume, but still notable.  The sound of the berries hitting the floor are just as you imagined a sweet plunk. plunk plunk plunk. When I went to Amys Memorial service there were p...

 I had a man in my life at one point that was 13 years older than I was.  He was "worldly" in my very impressionable heart and mind.   He introduced me to Flaming June and gave me a lifelong compliment which actually led to the title of this blog.  He told me that I resembled Flaming June while I slept.  If you're trying to figure out where a when this man was in my life, don't bother.  He was where he shouldn't have been, but was exactly what I needed. Anyway back to sleep topic.  I was able to fall asleep as if turning off a light, with a dimmer.  My Sleep would approach me as an idea, without words.  I could be anywhere and Sleep would snuggle up to me as as a melancholy or an old friend without a name.   Whether I was at work, home, with he kids, with a spouse Sleep was an intimacy who followed me around everywhere I went. Of course once the girls were born Sleep had their children as well.  I had my Sleep and my girls...

 When I was in High School my best friend was Amy.  I don't remember how we met or where, but somehow we just clicked.  I believe it was probably on the patio where in the 1980's you could go outside and smoke cigarettes with your friends on free mods or breaks.  Yep those were the days.   We were in 10th grade which made us 15.  I smoked Parliament light 100's  with the recessed filters (IYKYK) and she smoked Benson and Hedges.  She was a cheerleader that was so far from the "cheerleader" type it would crack us up.  We wrote notes in those days, scraps of paper that we would purge our daily trials onto, fold in some triangular football shape and pass to one another in the hall.  We could fill a note throughout the day and then I would throw it into a box for the ages to find someday.  We were able to talk endlessly about music, people, boyfriends, animals, school, college, parents, divorce, siblings, hours of chat.  We al...

  It has been 75 days. When I went to bed at night I would cry, every night.  My Mom would begin the process of "bedtime" at least 30 minutes before I actually had to go to my room.  She would give me the countdown. "Next commercial break"  "Ten more minutes"  "Go get your last drink of water" Some nights she would begin to doze and I would squeeze another 10 minutes until the dreaded bed time. Then began the process.  We would go to my room, which was only 12 feet from the living room in all actuality, but it was miles in my little girl heart.  Mom would pull down the covers, tuck me in, give me all of my comfort things and then I would cry.  The more she tried to make me comfortable with the thought of sleeping, alone, the harder I would cry.  If she would just say go to bed, it would have been easier. We would say my prayers together, Our Father, Hail Mary and then all of the God Bless's. The God Blesses were my definite way to get her to ...

 Lets talk about graduation parties!  Should I order the chicken scampi or marsala for the chicken dish?  Cakes and cupcakes or cookies?  DJ or photo booth or both? So we decorate the cake with Wyoming Seminary as a graduate or Penn State as his college destination? No, we wont talk about that.  You know, the "drophimoffandleavehimtherepart" or the "Ihaveabsolutelynopurposewithouthiminmydailygrind" lets not forget "Whenyoufoughttoliveforthisboyandnowheisgoingwhylive?" OK OK I'm not going to end my life because Jack is leaving for college, but for christs sake what the fuck is my purpose now?  I am struggling, struggling with so many things right now. I know my struggle on paper is nothing compared to so many other people.  My weight, my hair, my boy, my heart, my future.  I want to just get to the point where I can just take him and drop him off.  Rush through this summer and get it over with, pull off the bandaid quick and start the new chap...

  The little things in life have always been just that... nuances, feelings, fleeting moments that held very little weight.  We have heard forever "It's the little things that count."   SO now I am compelled to notice the little things because I have learned through my own experience that the little things are the most precious.  We forget them, I reminisced a few blogs ago that I have mountains of years that I have forgotten.  The daily grind, the endless breakfasts, the countless laundry loads, the 100's of miles, 1000's probably going up and down Wyoming Avenue.  That is only counting "THIS LIFETIME" with Jack, not even measuring "THE FIRST LIFETIME" with my girls.  Because if you know me they are two separate yet equal lifetimes.  Opposite in their approach, attack, and retreats but equal in the love expended and contributed. Now that my 34 years as a daily mother is soon drawing to a close (frightening) I am soaking up as much as I can....

  I am Retired. That means to me that I don't get up in the morning and head to work anymore. That means I dont fly by the seat of my pants with the windows still covered in ice, and the car defrosters in overdrive... blowing cold. I no longer pull into "my spot" with my students standing on the the ramp to the back door waiting for me to either unlock the door or start my class.  Sometimes both. My memories of arriving at Fortis vary, drastically.  I had 7 different offices.  Some were well put together home away from homes, and others were places I would drop my stuff and put my head down to cry. I arrived at Fortis married to Tim.  I went through a brutal breakup and divorce there, I met Andy and we tussled quite a few times there.  I had a miscarriage in the bathroom there, when I was pregnant with Tim's baby and realized the marriage was now going to be officially over.   I made amazing friends that I thought I would never ever lose touch wit...