Friday 55 & Da Count-Leaving an Impressions

FRIDAY 55

It's true you weren't my first.

I had others before you.

One was long and sleek,

gliding effortlessly.

Another was thick and heavy
resting in my hand.

Some were useless,
leaving nothing but a mess.
Some were stolen away
by those who would use them
and lose them.
Keep your hands off my favorite pen.

Just a bit of fluff this week.  Everyone at work seems to have a favorite pen and we all seem to have our own hiding places for them.  I may have control of the front desk but I share it with another girl and at some point during the day everyone comes to the desk...and many times my pen goes missing.

DA COUNT

In something completely unrelated to writing implements I'm counting my mom this week.  I've counted her before but I'm counting her again because her mama radar went off and she showed up unannounced at my house when I was at my wit's end...ready and willing to do whatever might need doing to try to ease some of the strain around here the last couple of weeks.  I'm a lucky daughter.

Slices of Limelets-An Easter Tradition

When the Limelets were mere tots one of their grandmothers used to buy them new Easter clothes every year. Her one stipulation was that we'd send a picture of the children all bedecked in their holiday finery. I was often scolded for making faces at the camera as a child and told I'd grow up to regret ruining pictures. I never regretted it. in fact, I encouraged the same bad behavior in my kids. So we'd take the requisite "nice picture for Grandma" and the blow the roll of film making faces for the rest. Now in the digital age we can be unlimited in our silliness. I won't bore you with the 30 or so crazy mug shots I got to take with Boom-boom. Here are just a few I enjoyed.

Ok, everybody pretend you're trying to lay an Easter egg.

Diana's typical response to encroachment upon her personal space.

A sisterly response to a younger brother's attempt at cultivating a suave air.

I think we just found that last missing egg from last year.

Ok, quick, everybody behave for Grandma!

Mad Bunnies*

Late last week I had a chance to play with my camera Boom-boom again. This time it was during a track meet Isaac was competing in as a high jumper.  I figured out how to do continuous shooting (a capacity I never had before) so I could get a series of shots in rapid order.  It came in handy at a the meet so I could get Isaac in action.  I took absurd numbers of shots, pretty much of each of his jumps.  Yeah, I'm his mom AND I have a new toy.  What more reason did I need?  Some of the shots were rotten because I didn't do so well, some because folks walked in front of me, others because I couldn't really get a good angle.  The three I am posting are of his final, first-place winning jump when he cleared 6 feet.  Since I couldn't get very close and I don't have a sufficient zoom lens I did some serious cropping of the image.  Considering how hard I cropped I'm still reasonably pleased with the resolution for the sake of posting it.

Isaac, being the perfectionist he is, was pouring over the hundred or so pictures so he could analyze his form so all my snapping had some use other than just getting acquainted with Boom-boom and being an annoying mother.



*Mad Bunnies: apparently this is some sort of descriptor a competitor's feet for when a high jumper does well.  ex: That boy cleared 6 feet.  He has some mad bunnies!

I know about the Fosbury Flop but I guess I need to work on my high jumping lingo.

The Day After Easter

Ya know, Lord....

If you have no use for this I wouldn't mind a nice quiet place to take a nap for a few days.

Don't go rolling the stone back to close it or anything.

I'm just reeeeeally tired is all.

Just sayin'....

Good Friday 55

*This first one is new this year but I am including the 55s from previous years as well.
 


The Governor

I found no fault
in the one brought before me.
My wife warned me.
Herod returned him to me.
I offered to release him
but the crowd demanded the murderer instead.
Lacking strength of conviction,
I yielded to the mob.
Water washed my hands
but could not cleanse my conscience
of an innocent man's blood.

The Disciple

I left my business and my home to follow him.
I sat at his feet,
swore my allegiance,
said I'd die with him.
drew my weapon in his defense.
When my test came
I cowered in the darkness,
denied we ever met,
and knew my love was nothing
as his poured out for faithless me.



The Cyrene

I came to Jerusalem for the Passover.
I heard the commotion,
saw the condemned paraded in the street.
One was barely alive.
I turned away until...
the Roman yanked me from the crowd,
laid the beam on my shoulders.
Only when I met the bloodied man's eyes
did I realize he endures the judgment
I deserve.



The Thief

Merciless sun blisters my skin as the crowd's unrelenting curses assault my ears.
The weight of my own guilt,
the pain of dislocated joints and bound limbs bear down so heavily
I can barely breathe.
I dangle between present agony and hopeless eternity until He tells me,
"Today you will be in Paradise with Me."



The Guard

I'm glad to follow my orders well.
It's like taking out the trash to rid the earth of the scum we execute here.
Today is different.
One never begged for mercy, never fought us.
He spoke mercy on us all.
For the first time I feel guilt.
I fall to my knees, confess His deity.



The Mother

We had to travel when my time was so near.
When the king was killing the little boys we had to flee for our lives.
I was panicked when we lost him in the city.
But nothing has pierced my heart
like watching the spikes enter his flesh
and the sword plunge into his side.

Da Count-2-D But Showing Great Depth

Some of you know I came to the blog world after spending a few years in Yahoo! Trivia chat rooms.  Once upon a time those rooms were full of witty people who loved to quiz each other. It was an intelligent and civil place where friendships were formed over knowledge of arcane facts.  The first person I got to know there is Susie.  We hit it off pretty quickly.  When the trivia rooms were overrun by bots and skeevy trolls which made the game impossible several of us defected to the blog world and started our own blogs and a joint blog.  Although Susie, Logo, and I are the only ones who still blog from that original crew of eight I'm still glad for the time we spent in the trivia rooms and for the continuing contact.  I figure I've known Susie for close to nine years now.  I could go on at length for the various joys and trials we have known each other through.

I could do the same for several of you who I've known for a long time even if only in a virtual sense.  There is a true friendship and a sense of community that arises when it is cultivated.  My family finds these friendships somewhat hard to understand.  I try to explain it as being akin to a life long pen  pal relationship.  I recall my grandmother having a British pen pal for decades and they were there for each other through early marriage, child-rearing, grandmothering, etc.  No one thought that odd.  But I digress a bit...

I've been blogging five and a half years and have made some truly wonderful friends among you.  I am continually amazed at the friendships that form and the care that people show each other.   I've been so grateful for the care and support that has been shown me in times of trouble over the years and I hope I've been a good friend in return.  Nonetheless, this week I've been completely astonished by a particular outpouring of support that has been given on behalf of Calypso and me with regard to a specific concern.  Folks responded to an effort Susie felt strongly burdened to undertake and it has left me speechless.  It's not something I ever would have asked for or expected in any way and yet here it is.

To those who have cared enough to leave encouraging comments on any of the blog posts where I was pouring my heart out, sent emails expressing concern and best wishes, to those who have prayed or held good thoughts for us, to those who have responded to Susie's request, to Susie for organizing something practical, to each and every one of you who have demonstrated friendship in one of these ways I am truly and deeply grateful.  I count each of you and each act of friendship.  Thank you.

A Note to My Children

Dear Calypso and Isaac,

I love you more than life itself.  I will go to great lengths to insure your well-being.  I think I have demonstrated this consistently over the course of your lives what with the breastfeeding, the making sure you had clothes and shoes and food before I did, the time and money spent on various lessons, the taxi driving, the times swabbing up the various noxious emissions you can produce during illness or even the potty training stage, the getting you to doctors and then nursing you in illness or post-surgically, cooking your favorite meals, listening to your heartaches, need I go on?  I could but I think the evidence is heavy enough.

That said, your mother has her limits.  I am tired.  And though I am more than happy to do for you that which you are unable to do when you are in genuine need you need to recognize that at the ages of 15 and 17 there is a lot you can do for yourselves.  Chief among these things is getting your own carcasses on the school bus in the morning and not forgetting your glasses, books, lunches, athletic equipment.  Have I mentioned I am tired?  Allow me to reiterate. I.AM.TIRED!

Now that we have established my love for you, your theoretical ability to be independent in certain areas, and my fatigue allow me to say one more thing.  If either of you bangs on my door tomorrow morning and wakes me up before my alarm, which I set in order to independently get myself out of bed and prepare for MY daily responsibilities, you had better either be bleeding profusely, on fire, or being chased by an axe murderer because, so help me God, you may wish for one of those options in the aftermath otherwise.

Lovingly,
Your Mother

What Big Girls Are Made Of

It has been a very bad few weeks for Calypso health-wise.  She's also taken a big emotional hit, which is harder to absorb when your body is in revolt.   Isaac has an unusually high pain tolerance and he's a 15 year old football player being surrounded by macho athletes, trainers, and coaches (don't get me started).  Though he is typically a compassionate sort, sisters are considered a different creature sometimes.  Someone recently inquired about Calypso when Isaac and I were out and about and his sister was absent.  I let them know she was having a string of bad days at which Isaac added, "Yeah, and she's not exactly the tough type."  The person asking was a woman who likely weighs less than my left leg but who has a 5th degree back belt.  She knows a bit about tough.  The person intending to answer was me...I like to think I know at least a little about toughness.  We both corrected my over 6 foot tall defensive end of a son letting him know that the level of perseverance his sister has demonstrated in the last 10 months speaks to a considerable level of mental toughness and that toughness isn't measured merely by one's ability to take down a big guy in pads or ignore physical pain.  Here then is the toughness his sister is made of...


-She ended one school year and commenced the next with hospitalizations yet she worked full time in between.  


-She went to school half-time for the first half of the year and managed to keep up her grades in spite of being absent so much.

-She's kept on top of what her assignments were and finding people to borrow notes from.  On days when she had borrowed notes from classmates and she was too sick to go to school she took responsibility and made sure I had the materials to return to the school office so classmates kind enough to share wouldn't lack their own notes when preparing for tests.

-She has missed out on the overwhelming majority of social activities a girl in her last year of high school could expect to enjoy and was either forgotten or nastily dropped by a number of "friends."  In spite of a lot of tears shed over it has held her head up and found solace in the few true ones left.

-She has continued to offer her ear and her shoulder to friends when they are hurting. 


-She has been called down for a talking to by the school nurse who thinks she needs to stop faking and just gut it out and has had to endure the repeated rolling of eyes every time she makes an appearance in the nurse's office.

-Although she fought us for a long time she finally saw the value in going through some major nutritional shifts for a significant period of time.  She kept to it even when her father and brother brought foods forbidden to her, which she craved intensely, into her presence and enjoyed them in front of her.

-She has advocated for herself before teachers, school administrators, doctors, and when she felt necessary....her parents.

-She has bought running shoes in the faith that she's going to be able to get back to running even though a brisk walk wears her out on a good day. 

-She has found a way to smile and laugh and persevere (admittedly interspersed with some dark days) for months even though she has said she doesn't remember what it's like to feel well.



My son, she may cry more often and complain about feeling awful but when the tears are wiped up she picks herself up and keeps moving forward as best she can in spite of still not having answers and not knowing when or if she will ever feel better.  It may not be taking a hit from a 220 lb. senior on the opposing football team but that's the tough your sister is made of.  Respect it.

National Poetry Month-Generation to Generation

Today I give you a poem from Antoine de Saint-Exupery.  I adore his book The Little Prince.  That book and the Bible are the only two books I have owned in three different languages.  In both his book and this poem Saint-Exupery speaks of the importance of rituals, not for ritual's sake, but in "taming" a person to friendship and in transmitting meaning to our children.  I thought it would be a nice choice this week since Passover and Holy Week have begun, both times of meaningful ritual if one observes and takes time to consider why they engage in certain activities.  If you are not observant of either tradition I'm sure you may have some other meaningful rituals you observe in life as you go along your way.  Please take a moment to read and then share with me what it is you do to pass along to the next generation the things that make life rich or build connections and community.  If you can't think of any I challenge you to consider what peaceful rituals you may establish to accomplish connections and community.



Generation to Generation

In a house which becomes a home,
one hands down and another takes up
the heritage of mind and heart,
laughter and tears, musings and deeds.
Love, like a carefully loaded ship,
crosses the gulf between the generations.
Therefore, we do not neglect the ceremonies
of our passage: when we wed, when we die,
and when we are blessed with a child;
When we depart and when we return;
When we plant and when we harvest.
Let us bring up our children. It is not
the place of some official to hand to them
their heritage.
If others impart to our children our knowledge
and ideals, they will lose all of us that is
wordless and full of wonder.
Let us build memories in our children,
lest they drag out joyless lives,
lest they allow treasures to be lost because
they have not been given the keys.
We live, not by things, but by the meanings
of things. It is needful to transmit the passwords
from generation to generation.

~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Update, Thanks, and a New Chapter

Still no answers for Calypso but a set of new tests.  The jury is out on this new doctor.  I have mixed feelings about her.  Calypso has turned a corner though and is finally improving for which I am greatly relieved and thankful.  Thank you all for your prayers, good thoughts, and well wishes.  It was a scary week.  I'm pretty worn out but I wanted to let those of you know who took the time to express your care and concern. 

My friends out in central PA have been a godsend too.  We've known each other for 23 years and have seen each other through so many different trials.  Our friendship began because of one in their lives.  I posted about that 4 years ago and thought it was worthy of sharing again since a lot of you weren't reading me back them.  For those of you who were, well I hope you don't mind that my weariness is preventing originality. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My friend and I haven't seen each other nearly as often as we'd like over the last many years. Every time we get together though it's like no time has passed. She's quite the story teller and loves to tell the story of how we met around 20 years ago.

As she tells it...(just imagine a very giggly an animated reading and you'll have it right)

Well, Paulie and I wanted to make babies and we tried to make babies for a long time and didn't get anywhere with that even though we'd been holding hands for like six years and everything. I mean we didn't even wear gloves or anything! Then my belly grew huge like there really was a baby in there, only problem was, it was a tumor and not a baby. And so I just saw the doctor and he told me, "We're gonna take out yer tumor and a bunch of yer insides and the bits you need to make babies, oh, and yer probably still gonna die anyway." And so I was kinda a little traumatized by all this, and my belly hurt and I couldn't walk. but we were supposed to have dinner with the Smith's and I sorta wanted to not think about having half my insides pulled out and not making babies and maybe dying anyway, so I made dessert and we went to the Smiths.

So we pulled up to their house and no lights are on and the door is locked and we knocked anyway and they come down in bathrobes and said, "Why are you here?" "Well, we brought dessert for dinner, like we agreed." the Smith's said, "Nooooooo, that is next week." So we said goodbye and got in the car with our blueberry buckle and asked ourselves who would like dessert? Oh, we know! College students! Mr. Lime likes dessert! We know him and we know he can eat. We hope his fiancee likes dessert and doesn't mind unannounced visitors. So we drove to their apartment and Paulie walked up the three flights of stairs with dessert in hand and I waited in the car in case they said no, because my belly hurt and I was kinda in shock and all and didn't really want to walk up there until I knew they wanted dessert. They said dessert sounded good, come on in.

So Paulie came back down and helped me up 3 flights of stairs with my huge hurty belly that had tumors in it instead of babies and the guys went and did whatever guys do and I sat in the kitchen while Michelle was cooking dinner...because they were college students and they ate late and they were only now getting around to cooking. And Michelle said, do you like pork chops and I nodded blankly so she pulled more of them out to cook and she made pork chops while I sat in her kitchen and cried my eyes out
....IwannamakebabiesbutnowIhavetumorsandtheirgonnagutme
likeadeerbythesideoftheroad andtheysaidI'mgonnadieanyway... WAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! and Michelle who never ever met me before let me bawl like a baby in my kitchen and she fed me and brought me tissues and she gave me some hugs and she let me rant and rave and bawl some more and she didn't even act like I was some sort of crazy woman escaped from the asylum. She just listened quietly. 

(Here is where I break in and remind the listener during the telling of the story that I had no idea what to do, that there was no great wisdom in me, that I was just aching for this poor lady in my kitchen who I never met who but who was obviously needing to unload a great burden. I just figured if she was in such shock she'd tell all that to a stranger then it was just my job to listen until she was done and just be there, oh and feed her since she'd had no dinner. Well, and I kinda had no answers for this lady crying in my kitchen so why even try to fake it, just listen. Better to be silent and thought stupid than to open my mouth and remove all doubt kinda thinking.)

So she made good pork chops and she said I made good Blueberry Buckle for dessert and a few weeks later they gutted me like a deer and they said I was gonna live after all and many weeks after that I went to Michelle's wedding and wore pantyhose on my hurty belly or the first time just for her wedding because she fed me pork chops and let me bawl in her kitchen. And we've been good friends ever since. The end. (Always punctuated by her throwing her head back and laughing like a loon and giving me a hug)

Epilogue by Lime:
I'm so glad she took a risk on crying in my kitchen. I'm so glad she lived. We've shared so many laughs and tears since that first time. We endured together as they went through two very complicated adoptions and rejoiced over a third that was easy.  We shared a roof for three months when Mr. Lime and I came back from Trinidad. We've seen each other through suicides of family members, illnesses, and trouble with kids. When one could only cry the other cried along and then mopped up and cracked a joke.  And lordy yes, have we had disagreements.  When I tell my Calypso, who has seen the fair weather friends desert her this year, that in the end of all this she will KNOW that those who stuck with her are tried and true, I have 2 decades of experience with a friend who is tested and found to be a shining example.

I've Lost Count of Emergencies but I'm Determined to Give Da Count

Calypso has had a very rough 2 weeks.  She's been very ill.  We still don't know what's going on.  I have lost confidence in and respect for our local doctor after the way the most recent episode and requests related to it have been handled.  Calypso continued to deteriorate.  I very much want to avoid having her admitted to the local hospital yet again for a variety of reasons but it seemed we were headed that way.  With the help of an old friend a couple hours away I found a specialist.  Thanks to the same friend, who also happens to be a nurse I was able to bring Calypso to his family's house so that if an ER trip and resulting admission became necessary we were in striking distance of the hospital where the specialist practices.

Today was pretty bad and I thought for sure we'd be heading to the hospital.  Thank God for my friends.  They were able to get fluids and some medication into my poor girl and for the first time in days she is sleeping.  The nurse half of the couple has also graciously agreed to come along to the specialist's appointment to be an extra set of ears for me.  I need that because quite honestly, I am worn down and this is too important an appointment for me to miss something because I am not at the top of my game.  Calypso may yet wind up being hospitalized but at least if it's after the appointment we will be doing so not in a state of panic but because it's part of an overall plan.

I am profoundly grateful for the advocacy, comfort, know-how, encouragement, and love of these friends and counting it all.

I'm also deeply grateful for any prayers given or good thoughts held for gaining an accurate diagnosis and effective treatment so we can, once and for all, get our girl back on her feet.

Why I'm Here-With Apologies to Jacqueline Berger

I read Ms. Berger's poem Why I'm Here here and was struck by it.  A long time ago a meme went around with a different poem related to family history and I did two versions of that here and here.  Today, for another National Poetry Month entry, I give my take on Why I'm Here.


Because my mother was comfortable with his family
in a way she wasn't at home.
And because, years earlier,
my father's much older brother married
mom's youngest aunt.
In the blended family gatherings
they found themselves
thrust together,
two quiet people overshadowed
by the ones larger than life.
I'm here because my mother couldn't conceive.
She'd read parenting books since she was a dreamy teenager,
rather than those silly fan magazines
And because my father was willing to adopt,
said he wanted to be a good dad.
I'm here because some social worker decided
this couple would be fit parents in their
little third floor apartment
overlooking a cemetery.


I'm here because a college student
lost her boyfriend,
took comfort in the arms of a married man who
pretended to not recognize her when
her belly swelled with me.
Because there was a lawyer
in her Quaker meeting house
who had a colleague whose brother's wife
couldn't conceive.


The rest of the reasons are long gone.


One decides to dress, and go on
with the shopping, and cooking, and cleaning.
One decides to go to work at the lab,
juggle test tubes and powders
to press into cakes so someone else can sell them.
One decides to dance away her sadness
so her dance floor gyrations
pulse along the floor,
shimmy up the pants leg,
and tickle the fancy of a man
bored with
his wife and kids.
And he decides to alleviate his boredom with a shapely redhead.


I'm here because German Protestants
were persecuted and left home
for a place where a Quaker founder
sympathized and promised refuge.
Because some Greek family decided
they were better off in America
than among whatever ruins they left.




It's good to treasure the gift, but good
to see that it wasn't really meant for you.
The feeling that it couldn't have been otherwise
is just a feeling. My family
gathers around long tables at Thanksgiving,
Christmas, Easter.
I've taken over making the baked pineapple
and chocolate nut cookies my grandmothers used to make.
I wish I could ask them how much butter,
how hot the oven
though I know how much, how hot.

We've been sitting at these same tables for years
so I believe we will go on forever.
It's right to give thanks for the random,
the unlikely probability that each of us should be here,
if not the meaning, the feeling, the changing air
and light
as seasons pass,
that Spring, when it comes,
arrives gently.




I invite you to tell me either in comments or your own post, why are you here?

Boom Boom'sTest Drive

Saturday was a gorgeous day.  A lone warm sunny day, only the second, since the Spring Equinox.  It's been a horridly cold and dreary Spring around here. But I took advantage of the lovely sunshine before we returned to cold rain on Sunday.  A friend and I went for a long walk and when I got back I broke out my new camera (Yes, I think I may take Suldog's suggestion and name the camera Boom Boom.  Now Suldog, will you please come back to blogland?)) to start getting acquainted with it.  Here are some of the results from around my yard.

I think labeled this an azalea even though it's a rhododendron...but maybe it;s an azalea.  Listen, I have sero sill where making green things grow is concerned.  In any event there's an itty bitty bud trying to get ready to do its thing.  At least the leaves have uncurled themselves from the cigar roll formations they go into during the winter.  Spring must be on its way, right? Right??

 These are odd little berries that grow in the yard as part of some creeping wild ground cover.  I have no idea what they are but they always intrigue me.

Someone once told me the shrub that produces these flowers is called bridal wreath.  I giggle about that because they grow around Mr. Lime's Manland shack.

We have a rail fence that's about ready to fall over.  It looks so artistic instead of redneck when you take a macro shot of the decaying rails though, doesn't it? 

Like I said, Spring seems greatly delayed in these parts but hey, the snow covering the rock wall out back is melted so you can see the lichen again.

Mr. Lime has threatened to cut down the Pussy Willow several times because the base of it is split and it doesn't look like it should be healthy but it blooms every year and I like it, so it's staying.  He gets a little too crazed with his chainsaw.

This is one of my flubs.  I had it on auto focus and thought it was focus but I either jiggled the camera or I see the world blurry.  Pity because I like the colors and the composition.  Oh well, part of learning.

Did I mention Spring is late and very little is blooming yet?  Yeah, I thought so.  That being the case I had to go looking for things to shoot.  We have a bunch of stumps around.  This one had kind of a groovy eroded curved spot in it.

Well, there you have it.  A little bit of playing with my camera.  I am frustrated with a lack of Spring but I am really excited to finally have a camera again after over a year without one...and looking forward to the next chance I get to play around with it.

Friday 55 & Da Count-National Poetry Month

 FRIDAY 55

There she stands,

amidst the chaos of family,

soothing a crying girl.

There she sits

 paying bills 

 planning to feed a family

on what remains.

There she stands

behind her work desk,

 greeting people in pain,

 sending them along.

There she sits

 at rest

letting words

ebb and flow

to wash

and clarify

her days.

DA COUNT

April is National Poetry Month.  It's a meager offering of a 55 but it sums up what blogging, literature, poetry do for me.  Since it's poetry month I'll just keep it to that for the purpose of Da Count.  It satisfies my spirit come across a poem that either brings me a new perspective on something simple that I previously took for granted, or to find one that perfectly expresses a particular thought, feeling, or experience for me.  I've dabbled in writing my own poetry on and off for years.

It's a little ironic that those of you who read me regularly know more about that side of me than the folks I interact with face to face.  I just don't share that part too much with the people around me for a number of reasons.  Honestly, I didn't expect to share much of that here when I began blogging.  I have no delusions of great skill. I write poetry for myself but it's been nice to occasionally put something out there and have positive feedback.  I thank you for that.

Whether it's poetry from a famous poet, from some of you who share yours, or my own I'm counting it for the power it has to speak to my heart and my mind.

Slice of Lime & Da Count-A Shoulder to Lean On

I haven't had the time I've wanted to play with my new camera due to extra work hours and various crises around here.  This weekend I am determined though!  Anyway, today is an old picture but it's where I'm at.  I originally took it for a post telling some pals they had my shoulder when they needed it.  Lately, I've been providing a lot of shoulder for Calypso as her saga continues.  It's been easy to get down.  I've been really fortunate to have some folks offer me a shoulder either when I've asked for it or when I didn't even have the words to ask.  I've strayed away from doing Da Count on a regular basis but I think I need to get back to that discipline.  This week I combine it with Slice of Lime in gratitude for the shoulders I've been offered, both virtual and 3D.  Thanks...truly.




And an oldie but a goodie to go along with it.

There's a Reason I Shop Alone

For many years it was not the norm.  I'd schlep along all three of the limelets to the grocery store to get the job done.  They were under strict orders to keep one hand on the cart at all times.  I did not tolerate kids running up and down the aisles of the supermarket and causing mayhem.  Once they all entered school I did my trips solo....with an ordered list.  I do not especially enjoy shopping so I am in and out with as little fuss as possible.

This week there was a deviation when I had to pick up Mr. Lime from an engagement he had and then do a shopping trip at the local bulk warehouse store.  I offered to drop him at home first since he hates shopping even more than I do.  He said it was silly to make the extra trip since the store was on the way home so he'd come with me.

Here then is how the trip went.

(Walking from the parking lot, grabbing a cart and heading to the door. Once through the door, Mr. Lime offers to push the cart.  I walk quickly toward my destination and turn around to find Mr. Lime still barely past the entrance and sauntering along.)

Me: (waving) Uh!  over here.

Mr. Lime: (catching my eye and still moseying)  Yeah, I see you.  There's a lot to see here. (picking an item off a display) Look a giant pack of batteries!

Me: Yes, that's what they hope you notice so you'll buy more stuff.  Moving on....(I stop for a can of stuffed grape leaves)


Mr. Lime: Those are disgusting.  I don't like them.  They look like cigars and don't taste much better.


Me: (placing them in the cart) More for Calypso and me then.


Mr. Lime: Can I get cigars for Isaac and me then?

Me:  Clearly you've been smoking something else already if you think I'd consent to actual cigars.


(The trip continues in starts and fits as I rush ahead for what I want and know is there then wait for Mr. Lime to catch up to me.)

Me: (standing in the middle of frozen foods looking down the aisle as Mr. Lime bounces on something)  What are you doing?

Mr. Lime: (excitedly) We gotta get one of these!

Me: (giving up and walking back toward him and the cart with an armload of frozen berries) What is it?

Mr. Lime: (bouncing happily)  It's a squishy mat.  It feels good!  You could have one at the sink.  I could get one for work.

Me: (taking a turn bouncing)  It's a chef's mat.  How much are they?  (looking) $39.95!  We'll pass.

Mr. Lime: (slightly whiny) But it feels good on my feet.

Me: Yeah, and you see all these bulk sized boxes of cereal and things?  The boy is going to scarf through them in no time flat.  $39.95 is about a week's worth of cereal, milk, and bananas for this kid.

Mr. Lime:  (shocked into reality)  Crap, you're right.  Ok, when we have the money.

Me: Ok, so maybe in about 10 years when he graduates college...wait, no...then we'll be eating ketchup sandwiches while we finish paying off parent loans to get him through college.

Mr.Lime: (picking up a pack of frozen fish to read)  China!  It's from China!  I knew it!

Me: (grabbing some flounder) Very good, Kreskin.  Where's the flounder from?

Mr. Lime: (waving the frozen fish in disgust) Chinese Tilapia!  It's ruining the American Catfish industry!

Me: (glancing at the back of another package) How do you feel about Ecuadorian Mahi Mahi? (I am ignored while he mumbles under his breath about Chinese fish.)

Mr. Lime:  (picking up the next object that interests him and puzzling at it)  I don't get it.


Me: (grabbing a bulk pack of cheese and looking over my shoulder) It's a pastry brush with rubber or silicone bristles or something like that.  Not natural bristles.

Mr. Lime: (raising eyebrows suggestively)  I don't really think it's a kitchen gadget.  I think it's a bedroom gadget.

Me: (looking at him like he's crazy) Uh, it's next to barbecue tongs, spatulas, and large knives.  What on earth would make you think it's a sex toy?

Mr. Lime: If I took this thing to school and left it in the faculty lounge every single guy in the place would think that's what it is.

Me: Then every single guy needs to spend some time in home ec. class.  I mean ok, it could be used for your purposes sure, but that wasn't the original design intent, I'm thinking.

Mr. Lime: (grabbing a two-piece hinged spatula) Oh look!  An itty bitty flipper....Oh wait, no, it's two pieces so it's a grabby flipper.

Me: (looking over the rim of my glasses)  You do realize we could have been done and at home already if you didn't need to touch and play with every shiny object, right?  I mean who are you?  You typically hate shopping more than I do.  A trip to the mall makes you break out in hives.

Mr. Lime: (trying to pick up a box with his grabby flipper)  Yeah, but the mall has herds of punks and people squirting you with stuff.

(Eventually we manage to finish the trip.  Mr. Lime helps me unload the heavy stuff onto the conveyor belt.  We pay and he pushes the cart out to the car where we pack the bags.)

Me: (reaching for things from the cart) Hand me a couple boxes, please.

Mr.Lime: (with an air of superiority) You forget I once did this professionally.  Fastest pack in the west.  All the old ladies on senior citizen day headed for my line.

Me: Ok, lay it on me, Mr. Packing Whiz.

(He finishes with a flourish and puts the bags in the car.)

Me: (on the drive home)  Thanks for your help with the cart and the bags.

Mr. Lime: (suddenly breathing a dejected sigh) Well, I figured I may as well be useful since I was being held hostage.

Me:.........

Meme-Up on Aisle #3!

Empress Lime and Queen Mimi are pleased to bring you yet another meme. This time we take a trip to the supermarket.  May I say I can completely empathize with not being able to resist the siren call of chocolate, but you already knew that.

Welcome to The Queen's Meme #77

Seven Royal Questions on Tuesdays

The Grocery Store Meme

The last time I went grocery shopping I came home with way too much chocolate. It wasn't supposed to be that way. I went for mangoes. But the chocolate kept calling my name.

1. Do you make a list when you go grocery shopping?

Yes, and I check it twice to see which canned goods have been naughty and nice.

2. Do you buy more groceries when you're hungry?

No, I just open them and eat them right in the aisles and hide the wrappers.

3. Coupons. Use 'em?

Yes, as an artistic medium.  I have walls covered in them.  I make book covers with them...jewelry....clothing....I call my art "Decouponage."  I'll be opening an Etsy shop soon.

4. Have you ever complained to the manager of your grocery store?

Yes, I told him I was bitterly disappointed by the federal budget crisis and the partisan posturing that cripples our government and blinds the citizenry to real issues and solutions.  I also mentioned my ongoing frustration with the health care system and insurance industries.  Then I expressed my concern about my own impending existential meltdown.  It didn't seem to make much difference.

5. Do you like to buy groceries at huge chain stores like WalMart? 

Or do you shop exclusively at food stores?

My retinas are burning after reading the W-word.  The tics have returned too.  If I shopped exclusively at food stores I'd have to wear a meat dress like Lady Gaga, wouldn't I?

6.  How much time do you spend reading labels in the grocery store?

Oh I've read LOTS.  I think there should be Pulitzer Prizes given for food labeling.  Some of the fiction is astonishing, positively gripping storytelling there.

7. Do you push your own grocery cart to the car and return it?

I have my people do that.

8. What is the one food item you always buy at the grocery store that you can't live without?

Screaming Yellow Zonkers