Deja Blue

So, fall is here.  Kind of.  I mean, technically we're in the 'fall season', but it's still 85 degrees in the afternoon here.  I'm wearing sweaters, leggings, and boots because that's what you wear in the fall.  But about 2:30ish every day, I nearly die of a heat stroke, usually give in and change to shorts and a tank top.  It smells like fall.  But, that could just be all the pumpkin, cinnamon, and 'harvest' candles I've lit around my house in efforts to trick my mind into believing the cozy, Autumn season has arrived.  The AC is also on.  Sort of puts a damper on my tactics . . .


October is a weird month.  My grandmother died at such a young age on October 30th a lot of years ago.  Trick-or-treating wasn't fun that year.  I didn't really get what was going on.  I knew my sweet Grandmama was dying.  Cancer is mean.  Her last words were to her grandchildren.  I'm the oldest, so I suppose I remember it more than the others. She woke up a bit from her in-and-out coma and our parents gathered us around her bed.  She smiled and mustered up the strength to utter a few kind words to us before fading off again.  It wasn't much longer before her soul left her body and moved from this earth to Heaven.  The adults were sad and us kids didn't quite understand it all.  We were shuffled out and a neighbor took us, dressed up, door to door asking for candy from strangers - which I still think is a bit of an odd idea.  Shortly thereafter, her body was taken to Bonaventure cemetery in Savannah where she was laid to rest.

I just got back from Savannah a few days ago.  I've been making that four hour drive since I was a tiny little girl. So many, many times.  It's a favorite of mine.  All of it.  The beach, the Marsh House, the squares, the shops, the memories . . . This past trip, though, was different.  It was the last time I would be in that city with any relatives there.  My grandfather's alzheimers' is progressing.  His stability isn't very much so.  It's time to bring him home.  To our home - in Peachtree City.  Saying goodbye to Savannah wasn't difficult for him, as he really had no clue he was leaving or where he was going.  However, for all his friends, lady friends, acquaintances, neighbors, his regular restaurant attendants, etc. it was a sad time.  There were hugs, tears, awkward moments and lumps in throats of those 'staying strong'.  Saying goodbye is never easy.  Even for me, saying goodbye to Savannah as I drove home was different this trip.  Bittersweet.  I now have my grandfather here and that makes me happy, but that marvelous, memory filled city will never quite be the same for me.

My grandfather, Jack Logan, at his house on cobblestone Jones Street, Savannah.

Last fall was a difficult one for a lot of reasons.  I'm glad a new one is here.  A year has passed and I'm in a better, healthier, happier place now.  However, I'm ready for October to be over.  Let's go ahead and move on to November, shall we?  November 1st will be a new beginning.  A beginning of the holidays.  A beginning of a happily settled in Grandfather in his new home.  A beginning of a month that's not filled with memories of death, confusion, regret, and sad feelings.  November brings birthdays - my dad's and my Nicholas will be a decade old!  November brings Thanksgiving - and oh, how much I have to be thankful for.  November brings cooler temperatures!  November brings new beginnings.




The next time my Granddad goes to Savannah, his body will be resting beside his wife's ~ my beautiful Grandmother, Stella Louise.  And, although it will be a time of sadness and grieving, it will also be a time of rejoicing in the fact that, although his body lay in the ground, his soul has gone to Heaven where my Grandmother's waits for him.  I sort of hope it's not in October, though . . . This month has already stolen its share of unpleasant memories.


For now, though, life goes on.  And I'm so very thankful for life.  Mine, my childrens', my family, my dear friends'.  I'm surrounded with such amazing people, as cliche' as it sounds, it's true.  As I grow older, I'm realizing more and more how fragile life really is.  I don't take mine or my loved ones' for granted.  At all.

And now I'm going to fix up a little plate of dessert for my Grandfather, head over to his new place of dwelling and enjoy time doing nothing with him.  While I count down the days to November . . .

Super!

I just realized I'm following my own blog.  Awesome.  How did that happen.  And why.  That's just real special, if you ask me . . .

Really? Really.

I don't get it.  Things are weird.  Life is odd.  People are strange.  Where's my 'Life Manual'?  Can't find it. Must've misplaced it, along with my mind, dignity, and favorite pair of black heels that I've been on the quest to find for quite some time now.

At least I have these three to keep me grounded.  Although, I'm not sure, but they MAY have contributed to a few of those lost brain cells I don't think I'll ever recover.  Just a hunch.  However, they do keep my heart happy!  And I'll gladly exchange a bit of a smaller brain for a much larger heart.

Still . . . Why?  Why hurt? Why Alzheimer's?  Why confusion?  Why tears?  Why misunderstandings?  Why negativity?  Why death?  Why grace . . . Ah, grace.  Even in the midst of floundering, confusion and pain -- We're granted and given mercy and grace.  Sweet and undeserving, precious mercy and grace.  

Thank you, Father.  Thank you, friends.  Thank you, family.

Sounds all cliche' and stuff, but it's true ~ Without the grace, forgiveness, patience and mercy of these folks, I'd be a goner . . .

Hmm ... What if I stomped on these a bunch and then let them rot in a barrel?

Well, well . . . Apparently, sandy clay loam and black volcanic obsidian soils, combined with a unique diurnal temperature pattern, and extremely hot days, tempered by very cool nights, slows the ripening process and enhances the flavor and complexity of the grapes that go into making my vino of choice tonight ~ Francis Coppola Diamond Cabernet Sauvignon 2006.  Who knew?!  So, it's just a $20 bottle of wine.  It's good.  Enough.  And apparently goes well with beef (steak, but not filet mignon - don't ask, because I have no idea.  However,  let's not get that mixed up, though - things could get dicey) . . . Also, lamb and goose.  None of the above, I eat. 


As a side note, though, I'd like to add that my beverage this evening 'starts with a very berry flavor and melts into a smooth, velvety finish'.  Impressive!  Whatever that seriously means. I enjoy it and all, but let's be honest - I don't really experience a lot of the 'smooth melting and velvety finish' it promises as I sip.  Either way, seems to be the perfect accompaniment to the Special K Meal Replacement Bar I'm enjoying (er, really just shoving down while I simultaneously do two thousand other things.  Hey - It's healthier than Mickey D's drive-thru, right?!).  Point being, the two REALLY do complement each other . . . Pretty sure it's the berries.  Berry flavors in the wine.  'Strawberries' in my protein bar.  It's just a great big fruit party in my mouth.

Who says you have to follow all the rules, all the time?!  Seems like the perfect combo for moi tonight.

Cheers!

Re-Cap

So, yesterday I returned from a long weekend (Thursday through Monday) from Savannah, spending time with my ailing grandfather and my sweet aunt.  Alzheimer's is a mean disease.  I don't like it.  One bit.  However, as he's regressing, my granddad is happy for the most part.  He sings, he still has a bit of his quirky wit about him and he's sweet to me.  I've never had a 'real' relationship with him until these last few months.  And, although I'm 32 now, in the end, I'll be happy to say I did indeed have a relationship with him ~ a sweet one, at that.  He gets confused.  Doesn't know who I am, or who most other people are, a lot of the time.  He isn't sure where he is or where he's going.  Waves of paranoia come and go with him.  But, for the most part, he's trusting.  Of me, and the others looking after him.  He doesn't put up a fight and is quite compliant and mostly pleasant.

The days I spent there were bitter-sweet.  Sweet to be with him and watch him sing along with his Il Divo CD, clap his hands, fade off to a sleepy afternoon nap, talk about long gone relatives he thinks are still around, sit outside with him after dinner in the breezy evening air.  Bitter, because he's fading.  And with this disease, obviously, there's no going back.  So, it's time to enjoy what we do have with Mr. Jack Logan, my granddad.  The only one I've ever had, the only one I ever will.

Aunt Mae and Granddad 

I flew home in time Monday morning to meet my sister at the Atlanta airport atrium.  I got to spend about half an hour with her before she walked through security and off to Phoenix she went.  Man, that was tough.  Is tough.  I'm still not accepting that she's gone yet.  It hits me now and again that I won't have anymore weekend nights out with her.  No more weekday morning talks over coffee this fall.  No more late night 'slumber parties' at my mom and dad's house.  I don't want to go to the places we went to together anymore.  And I really liked those places.  But, for now, at least, it's too sad.  My best friend has gone away and I'm lonely without her.

I woke up this morning to find Nicholas' hermit crab dead.  Fantastic.  Being amazingly under-dramatic and calm, like he is, it was no big deal.  And by 'no big deal', I mean he cried all morning and we had a funeral this afternoon for the crab before we buried him.  Hearts were heavy . . . (Well, the kids' were, at least - must admit, it's one LESS thing for me to keep up with around here!)

Happier times ~ Obviously, before his passing . . . .

Took the kids to school this morning, went and picked up the two bags of groceries and my change I'd left at the grocery store last night (with all three kids in tow - shocking how one could be so distracted to leave bags *plural* bags of groceries) and decided to go wash my car.  Where I promptly dropped three out of four quarters needed to vacuum.  So, I'm on my stomach reaching (and I have a fairly long reach) for these quarters.  Awesome.  They're directly under the center of my Expedition.  So, I hop in and move the thing to rescue the stupid quarters.  Afterwards, it needs a wash.  Water/money runs out half way through rinsing tons of foamy soap.  Perfect.  Go change a $5 into 20 MORE quarters and finish rinsing the car.  Still have time left, so I decide to 'Protect My Vehicle With A Tri-Color Protectant Foam'.  It's not coming out.  So, I do the brilliant thing and look directly into the nozzle, when the 'protectant foam' kicks in and blows a cuss-ton of tri-color foam all over my face.  Pretty sure my left contact is permanently seared to my eyeball.  Haven't really been able to see very well since that killer experience.

Finish up.  Drive home.  (Oh, spilled my Starbucks on the way, as well.  Par for the course . . . ) Trying not to burst into tears - just because, at this point.  Walk in the door and discover a dead mouse we've been trying to capture for a month or two in the handy-dandy mouse trap that's supposed to contain ALL of the trapped vermin.  Not so much.  Call me crazy, but at this point, I really didn't feel like disposing of a plastic container with two little mouse feet poking out.  It was just sad.

So, now, I'm gathering my three kiddos inside from playing in the sprinkler.  Yup.  September 7th, 7:20 and they're all in their swimsuits, running through the water - That's GA weather for ya!  And Stella has a pair of panties on her head.  Not sure why, but, that's Stella!  And they're happy.  Happy!  Oh, wonderful 'happy'.  And they're laughing.  And I hear them running carefree and acting silly.  So, I think I'll go join them.

I could use a little carefree and silly tonight . . . 

A picture's worth a trillion-bazillion words

'Cause this is how I feel right about now.  

So, there's your happy for the day.  I'm just a REAL Barrel Of Monkeys, I tell ya.  A complete privilege and a treat to be around, really.  I've got motion sickness like no other from this emotional roller coaster I'm ridin'.  And, PS -- I'm ready to get off . . . Thanks.

Next. Blog. Must. Be. Lighter.

(I get this . . . Really, I do.)

Amo Mia Sorella

So, it's here.  The day I dreaded, but knew would eventually come.  My sister, my best friend, my soul mate, my go-to, my rock -- is moving away.  Fah, fah away.  Phoenix, to be exact.  And that's not within driving distance from me when I'm having a nervy-break-d, when she is, when we both just need a day/night out to laugh, cry or just blow off steam.  It's, in fact, a whole airplane ride and four hours away.  And this makes me sad.  For me.  For her, I'm so happy . . . She's starting fresh, new, whole again!  She's a little nomad and needs/deserves this exciting next chapter of life.

As I write, my mind is bouncing with memories of the past five years I've had her here with me.  Trips to Rosemary, Savannah, the mountains.  Tattoos together and how she so well survived the experience it was for her!  Me, curled up on her couch crying, while she made me dinner and tucked me in.  So many nights out with fabulously silly good memories and then some we've just erased from our memory and pretend never happened.  Fellini's, Raging Burrito, Pastries A Go Go, Zesto's, Pizole, Tin Lizzy's.  Locked keys in cars, lost shoe (yes, shoe - singular), trips down icy stairs (in my case - shocker, I know), the delicious encounter with Lenny's bathroom floor, boy troubles.  Boiled 'P-Nuts' (that's what the sign said!), To Kill A Mocking Bird with Tom Key, Halloween parties - Jessica as Jem and I as Amy Winehouse - Yup, we rocked it, late night sleep-over at Mom and Dad's house - just like the old days, The Varsity and Step Up 3 (a fantastic combo!),  park play dates with my kiddos and Aunt Jess, summer afternoons swimming, Fab Fridays @ Heliotrope, Stars and Strikes (HARPO, Jessica!).  I could honestly go on and on.  And on.  The good times really never stop when we're together -- for the most part . . . The keys in the locked car, pouring rain and a SUPER helpful security guard wasn't the BEST time we've ever had together, but once in the car again, we laughed and laughed and laughed.  And laughed some more.  As per usual . . .

She begins her new journey on Monday when she'll fly out to Arizona.  My heart will hurt, it already does.  I'll cry.  She will.  Goodbyes are never fun when you're saying it to someone you love so dearly.  But, I take heart in the fact that she has a wonderful boy there waiting to take care of her.  And she'll be in a place where the sun always shines - a major plus!  And, although she won't be here with me physically, she'll be right here in my heart where she always is and always will be.  I'm so lucky to have her there.

Katherine Mansfield says it best ~ 

Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart - oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape - of your sister. 

I love you, sweet Jessica.  You're my favorite and the best there will ever be.

Amo Mia Sorrella . . . For always.  

Spanx for nothin . . .

Dear Spanx,


I must say ~ You let me down a little last night.  No, really . . . You let me DOWN.  As in didn't hold me up/in as I fully expected you to do.  Like, really, I expected more out of the Lycra 'higher power' Bod-A-Bing you so proudly boast you offer for the post-baby-bodies I'm the proud owner of.  Besides the pulling and bunching of the girdle I so comfortable donned, from the side, I STILL was able to see a slight protruding of my mid-section I worked so hard to disguise.  Emphasis on the 'worked' part - as in, it took quite a bit of time, wiggling, heavily sucking in, and elbow grease just to squeeze into this gem of an over-priced piece of a full body Ace bandage.


Anyway, now you've forced me to do something I really don't feel like doing in this heat (other than putting on the underneath 'slimming' sweat-suit) -- Run.  On the one hand, I really don't want to end our relationship, because, at times - you've provided quite the confidence.  On the other,  I actually wouldn't mind just calling it quits with you altogether.  Please don't take it to heart . . . I just feel we need a break from each other . . . for permanent.  It'll be a joyous day indeed when I gather you and your Spanx friends from my drawers (sorry, I've been seeing a few others on the side, as well - just needed a little variety in my life, as did my thighs) and toss you all in the waste bin.  And bid you all good riddance.  Once and for all.


I'm sorry to have tell you this way - publicly - but, it just needed to be said.  And I'm already feeling better about my decision.  Again, don't take it personally . . . It's not you, it's me.  Really.


Off and running,






















A soon to be less jiggly, Eryn

A shopping excursion, NOT for the impatient!

So, here's how it goes.  I'm in the grocery store with all three of my darling offspring - something I try to avoid these days.  Not because I don't enjoy their presence, but a grocery store isn't exactly the optimal place for bonding time between a mother and her children.  It takes me about twice as long to grab the 11 items I went in for because I'm either looking for a misplaced (i.e. 'lost') child, breaking up a fight between the boys, or restocking shelves, like I'm an employee, thanks to the 27+ items that have made their way into my cart, unbeknownst to me.  They're very skillfully and stealthy placed there by six little hands that think I'm actually NOT going to notice the extra eight boxes of gummy candy, Red Bull, every new flavor of Pop Tarts,  Hot Wheels (9 of them), Bubble Tape bubble gum (only to name a few),  speeding down the conveyer belt towards the register.  So, I'm scrambling at the last minute to shove and hide these items in the gum/candy/magazine section before I get in 'trouble' by the 16 year old scanning my groceries because I'm 'making more work for her' by not putting these random cavity inducing 'needs', as my children refer to them, back in their appropriate homes, peppered around the grocery store.  No. I am not retracing all my steps, because there were a LOT of extra and unanticipated ones.  We'd be here for two more hours.  And, frankly, my nerve has had about all it can handle and, honestly Sweetie, you'd REALLY be better off doing it yourself than having us stand in your line, creating any more commotion than we already are.  Trust me.  You're ready for us to bail.  Just like we are.

So, the lady in front of me watching all this craziness ensue, dressed to the nines and clearly childless, looks back and me and says in quite the dry tone, "Boy!  You sure have your hands full, dontcha?!"  My mind goes quickly to places it shouldn't, but I hold my tongue.  And, I reply with a smile . . . "Well, obviously, I do.  However, my heart is even fuller because of these three.  I'm a super lucky Mama." Which I indeed am.  She says nothing more.  And my kids smile at me.  I smile back and rub their little noggins.  Because even when I'm pulling my hair out by the hand full, shaking like a leaf and feel like my head might explode at any minute, I can look at my little guys and still see their precious little spirits that are just having temporary moments of insanity.  Just like their mother, from time to time.  Yes, it's true.  I DO lose my marbles on occasion, as shocking as that may be to hear . . .

We walk out, looking both ways and holding hands, heading to the car.  Yup, it was trying and frustrating, but it was just a short little shopping trip that we all survived.  Small potatoes in the grand scheme of things.  And one day, I'll have all the time in the world to grocery shop by myself . . . And I just might feel a tinge of sadness that I don't have to hide three boxes of Fruit Roll-Ups in the check-out line anymore.  Or I might just buy some for old time's sake.

My Mama says, "Days are long, but years are short".  She's a wise woman.  They'll be all growed up before I know it.  I'm working on relaxing, slowing down and enjoying the craziness that comes along with sweet times as well . . . Got a long way to go, but I'm really trying to stop and smell the roses.  Or the burning popcorn that those kiddos are currently making sans my permission.  Oh, boy - here we go again . . .